The War for Late Night_ When Leno Went Early and Television Went Crazy - Bill Carter [186]
At about three p.m., with Graboff, Gaspin, and NBC’s West Coast lawyer Andrea Hartman waiting, the Conan team—Rosen, Glaser, Polone, and Brecheen—showed up at NBC. Brecheen started the meeting off by saying, “We believe you’re in material breach of the contract.”
Gaspin responded with complete politeness, saying NBC did not believe that was the case, that it was unfortunate the dispute had gone public in this way, but that the network honestly wanted Conan to agree to its proposal.
Polone challenged that immediately, insisting it was NBC’s bullshit way of pushing Conan out. He spoke with emotion, but without obvious anger, about how this treatment of his client was intolerable, and how he had known Conan for twenty years and never seen such commitment from him.
It still seemed to Graboff that Conan’s agents might not have been totally on board with the manifesto, but he pressed one point. This letter Conan sent out said he was quitting, and NBC needed to know if he was going to perform, because his contract said nothing at all about a time slot.
The lawyers made it clear that Conan would do the show at 12:05; he would come to work and perform as a professional. But, they added, we’re going to sue you. And Polone, who never minded playing the role of bad cop, made it clear that the process would be ugly. They would drag NBC through the mud in every way they could. And they would win.
“We will never back down,” Polone said, matter-of-factly. “I will never allow you guys to do this, because of my relationship with Conan. And, believe me, his wife is 100 percent behind him, too. We will go all the way and we will take you down.”
Rosen added, “We all know how crazy Gavin can be about these things, but you know me. I’m not crazy. I’ve got to tell you, I have known Conan for thirteen years, and he is so resolute and will not give in.”
The NBC group dismissed all of this as total bluster, having been assured by the corporate legal team in New York of its 100 percent confidence that NBC was not in breach of Conan’s contract. Andrea Hartman asserted the network’s position that it was not in breach and asked to be shown where it could be considered to be so.
Patty Glaser said they could have that conversation outside or in a court of law, adding, “We’re very confident of our position.”
As for what Conan might take to resolve this matter, Polone and the others began to toss around figures like $50 million and $100 million. NBC cut the first figure more than in half as a starting point for a settlement.
During a break, Graboff told his NBC colleagues that the promise from Team Conan that he would in fact do a show at 12:05 seemed halfhearted at best. They were not giving NBC the assurances the network was entitled to have, and as such it could be interpreted that he was defaulting on his contract. The network could enforce its exclusivity, keep Conan idle, and pay him nothing.
When they tried out that scenario back in the conference room, it drew a swift response. Graboff read it as: “Fuck you. We’ll see you in court.”
Rick Rosen, who had already concluded that this was the most tumultuous week of his career, had the added pressure of impending duties as one of the leaders of the William Morris Endeavor corporate retreat, which started up that same Tuesday afternoon in Palm Springs.
As he left for the desert, Rick couldn’t help thinking that, back on the Universal lot, with NBC pondering its next move, Conan and Jeff Ross had to go put on a show.
By the time Rosen arrived in Palm Springs, messages had all but clogged his BlackBerry, but among the rules of the retreat was that all phones be turned off. Ari Emanuel was there as well, of course, and Rosen brought him up to speed on the Conan developments—which came down to: We may be in for a long, ugly, litigious ride.
Ari hardly had to be clued in, for though he had not attended the meetings, frequent contact with Rick, Zucker, and others had