The War for Late Night_ When Leno Went Early and Television Went Crazy - Bill Carter [159]
The week before Christmas Gaspin called Zucker and laid out his plan in detail. He needed approval, but Gaspin had no qualms about claiming paternity. He had clicked the pieces into place like an elaborately designed Lego construction; he intended to see the plan through by personally informing all the players.
“We can do it now or we can wait and let everybody think about it over the holidays,” Gaspin said to Zucker, who gave his nod of approval to the overall restructuring. The advantage of going out with it immediately was that all the parties involved could mull it over during the extended two-week shutdown Hollywood enjoyed every December. Zucker, happy to have his new entertainment boss take the lead, said he would also leave the decision of pre- or post-holidays in Gaspin’s hands.
Gaspin examined the calendar. Christmas was closing in; people were already looking forward to their breaks. There was that to consider. Gaspin had second thoughts; maybe it was better if they dealt with it all in the new year.
Let’s not ruin anybody’s holiday season.
CHAPTER TEN
THE LATE UNPLEASANTNESS
For the first weekend of 2010, the weather at the classic Riviera Country Club in Pacific Palisades, California, was beyond glorious—mid-seventies, sunny, ideal for an unhurried round of golf just before the Hollywood grind, on hold for two holiday weeks, resumed again on Monday morning.
Jeff Ross had taken up the game pretty late in life, in his forties, using the down time from his duties running Late Night to throw himself headlong into lessons, including weeks at intensive golf camps in Florida. By now he had become accomplished enough to score in the mid-eighties on Riviera’s tough layout. He had also formed a number of strong golf friendships: in his New York days with Jeff Zucker, among others, and, once he moved to LA and was admitted as a member at Riviera, with Rick Rosen and Lloyd Braun.
That Sunday morning Ross teed it up with Braun, one of the more active television executives of the previous decade. Braun, trained as an entertainment lawyer, had worked as a talent manager for the big Brillstein-Grey firm, later joining Disney as head of its television production studio Buena Vista, and then as president of entertainment for Disney’s network, ABC. After a wild ride there, Braun had moved on to work a brief stint at Yahoo! before finally starting up his own production company in partnership with Gail Berman, the well-regarded onetime president of entertainment for Fox. Now Berman-Braun had what was known as a first-look deal with NBC.
Braun, lean and athletic, played golf often and well. He had a knack for turning up in the middle of late-night action, having pursued David Letterman for ABC in 2002 and then creating the new ABC entry for Jimmy Kimmel. Naturally enough, as he walked the Riviera course that January morning with Jeff Ross, Lloyd had NBCʹs late-night situation on his mind. When they reached the seventeenth green, Braun finally asked Ross about the latest concerning Conan and the Jay Leno experiment at ten.
Ross told him it was becoming overwhelmingly obvious that Leno was in big trouble.
“I know,” Braun said. “They’ve got to do something about it.”
Ross nodded in agreement, but his generally dour demeanor looked even gloomier than usual. “I sure hope it doesn’t affect us,” he said.
Lloyd put up a hand to stop that line of thinking. “You guys have nothing to worry about,” Braun pronounced. “That would be the dumbest thing ever. It would be the worst PR move ever. It’s not planning for the future.”
“I know,” Ross said, not very convincingly. “They made a commitment to us.”
“If they do something, they’ve got to get rid of Leno,” Braun insisted, trying to reassure his friend.
“Yeah, but it would be a fortune to pay him off,” Ross continued, not at all reassured.
Braun, as was his wont, worked himself up to a level of passionate indignation. “To do something with you guys would be the most ridiculous move