Fun While It Lasted: My Rise and Fall in the Land of Fame and Fortune

by Bruce McNall, Michael D'Antonio

Bruce McNall became obsessed with coin collecting at the age of 10. At 16, his collection was worth $60,000. During college, he traveled the world buying coins stolen from ancient sites and tombs. McNall's first major sale was to Sy Weintraub, the head of Panavision, who bought $500,000 worth of coins in one sitting. Soon, McNall branched out into horse racing, movie making ( The Fabulous Baker Boys ), and owning the L.A. Kings hockey team.

Genres: Nonfiction, Sports, Hockey, Biography, Memoir, Business, Finance

304 pages, Hardcover

First published July 1, 2003

Reviews

[Donie Nelson · Rating 5 out of 5]

It was great reading about Sherwood Prods., where I developed TV projects from 1983-1984. Aware of the highlights of McNall's life, now I learned what was behind several of the events that puzzled me at the time. Like, why was my secretary and other clerical help suddenly assigned to work out of McNall's coin biz in Beverly Hills? An inventory? Or a coverup? Read the book like I did. I also vividly recall McNall's 1983 Christmas Party held at his mansion inside the Bel Air Gates, which I attended with my husband. The guests were treated to a sumptuous buffet, all you could drink and a game room complete with the latest games: Mario Bros' Super Mario! and Donkey Kong! I was more fascinated by the clusters of guests, who were clearly defined by their interests: TV & film, horse racing, antiquities, coins, etc. Each group represented one of McNall's investments--as well as the career of his fiance/soon-to-be wife who worked for The Getty. I remember asking, "Who are those fat men in expensive suits?" The Hunt Bros. in town for meetings. I wondered how these right-wing Christians would react to such films as: box office success: "Mister Mom," & box office failure: "Blame It On Rio," etc. My concerns were validated: the Hunts turned off the cash flow to the company. In retrospect I realize that Sherwood's executive ranks included several who were implicated in scandals (before, but mostly after): McNall himself, David Begelman, Michael Nathanson...

[Al Berry · Rating 4 out of 5]

Solid biography on a Businessman’s descent into fraud one small lie at a time, Of course the glamour of Gretzky and Rocket Ismail make it a lot more interesting than if the subject matter were on just some manufacturer for instance.

[A Cesspool · Rating 3 out of 5]

really only interested in McNall's experience producing 1980s Hollywood features, via David "Begelscam"'s Sherwood, then, Gladden Entertainment:

🎦 “Sherwood Productions—the name came from the street Alan Salke (Berry Gordy's former business manager and financial officer) lived on—would be born. Brimstone & Treacle (1982) would be our first film."

🎦 “We'd spent $2.5M .. War Games (1983) grossed $80 million—our profit was $5 million—and Sherwood was suddenly a very successful little production company. It wouldn't be little for long.”

🎦 “When David Begelscam had paid his debt, his lawyer, Frank Rothman, persuaded another of his clients, billionaire Kirk Kerkorian, to hire David to run MGM."

“As much as David had been hurt by his crime, the publicity, and his firing, his reputation inside The Business remained remarkably good."

“That was why, at the urging of Frank Rothman, I hired him to turn Sherwood Productions into a much bigger company.”

“Oddly enough, our other choice for David's job was Larry Gordon. Larry started out as Aaron Spelling's driver. He was a major producer by the time we considered hiring him. In the years after my decision he made so many big hit$ I cannot recount them all, and became president of Twentieth Century Fox.

David didn't act wounded at all when I sent Alan to negotiate his deal. After little more than a hello, David demanded a $300,000-a-year salary, a big expense account, a huge office, several first-class round-trip tickets to New York each year, and the right to bring along his highly paid yes-man, Michael Nathanson. It was brash talk for a disgraced executive who had just been fired and couldn't be certain he would ever work again. But believing he was worth it, we gave him just about everything he asked for.

Besides granting his compensation demands, I gave David a free hand to run Sherwood. As my various business interests grew in so many different directions, it was impossible for me to manage them all day-to-day.”

🎦 “...it was hard to ignore that David was quickly devouring the $2.5M profits we had made on War Games.”

🎦 “I brought Begelman on, over Larry Gordon, based solely on his assurances finding material and setting up funding and distribution for each film.”

"While he failed to get up-front financing, he did manage to get a commitment from Fox to be our distributor.”

🎦 “Aaron Spelling's plan that Mr. Mom (1983) be what's called a "back-door pilot" for a television series. It wasn't uncommon for a network to create a series based on a movie; Thereby generating multiple revenue streams from one intellectual property.”

“Audiences bought $65 million worth of tickets to see Mr. Mom in theaters and eventually paid another $32 million to see it on video.
Despite our good studio distribution deal, almost all of the profit from Mr. Mom went to Fox.”

🎦 “By the time we finished paying off Michael Caine, covering the cost of shooting the movie in Brazil, and handing over the cash required by our distributor, Blame It on Rio (1984) cost us money. Sherwood Entertainment, despite having great success with War Games and Mr. Mom, was barely solvent. That was because David was chewing through more than $300,000 a month for overhead.

The one person who tried to keep an eye on David was Alan Salke. It was not easy. David treated Alan as if he was a competitor, not a colleague, and he never missed the opportunity to assert that he was a legend in the business and Alan was a neophyte. But no matter what David said, Alan was a sharp businessman, and he challenged David's spending. Their tense relationship exploded when he raised questions about the catering company hired to serve the cast and crew of Mr. Mom. The company was owned by David's wife, Gladyce Begelman. David saw nothing wrong with the arrangement, even if it paid Gladyce three times more than other companies were paid for similar services. When he lost that battle, Alan left Sherwood.

Alan's departure, the rapid expansion, even the losses associated with Blame It on Rio, none of these things were enough to frighten our bankers. In fact, they kept upping our financing, making sure our line of credit grew to accommodate David's spending.”

McNall Gets BEGELSCAMMED:

🎦 “I was in that fairly calm state of mind when David called me at my Summa Gallery office on Rodeo Drive. "I'm here with Bert Fields," he said. "There's something urgent we want to discuss with you. Now." Bert was David's personal attorney. He was also perhaps the most powerful entertainment lawyer in the country. I grabbed Craig Tompkins, my corporate counsel, and we drove over to the MGM lot. We passed through the gate, parked, and went straight to David's office. He was there with Bert, and as soon as we were seated he got straight to the point.

"I've formed another company," he announced with the same matter-of-fact tone he might use to explain that he was redecorating the office. "I'm prepared to go fifty/fifty with you, if you bring your personal guarantee for the financing as you did with EAB. Otherwise I'll just be leaving Sherwood."

The company David had created would be called Gladden—after his wife, Gladys—Entertainment. To make sure we understood that he was serious, he went on to describe the sweetheart deals he had worked out to finance and distribute his movies. David had gone to his friend Marvin Davis, who owned Fox, and traded the rights to distribute his films in America for an agreement to supply 25 percent of the cost of making each one. He then went to a foreign distribution company called Thorn-EMI, which agreed to pay 55 percent of the costs in exchange for placing the movies in foreign markets. Finally he had put together a video deal with a company called Vestron, which put up another 25 percent. Do the math: He had actually acquired 105 percent financing for the costs of making each film. To cap it all off, the contracts called for ten projects, of David's choosing. His backers would have nothing to say about the scripts, the directors, the stars, or anything else. They would take what he gave them, and pay the bills.

As good as those deals were, and they were better than anything I had ever heard about, they only covered the cost of producing the films. David would still need cash and a line of credit to operate his company day-to-day. That was where I fit in. Given his felonious past, and his lack of personal wealth, no bank would allow David to sign for a big note. And he didn't have the personal reserves to cover the huge overhead that his operating style would require.

As David laid all of this out, anger began boiling inside of me. Here I had been summoned, like a servant, to an office that I owned, to be stabbed in the back by an employee, someone I had rescued from disgrace. I had financed his success with War Games and Mr. Mom, only to see him go out and make a wonderful distribution deal, not for Sherwood, but for himself. While he should have been loyally securing the future of my company, he made his own deal while talking on the phones I paid for, and dining on an expense account that I covered. It was a gross betrayal, and I was livid.

Before I could say anything, Craig stood up and announced that we were taking a break to talk. He led me outside, where I vented my outrage. "I'm on the hook for $20 million because of this guy," I said. "I've got all these obligations—like the lease and all the employees—which he created. This is fucking extortion!"

David did his best to describe our new arrangement as an opportunity, rather than the palace coup it was—despite the fact that he was raising his own salary from $300,000 to $500,000. The new Gladden would assume all of Sherwood's old liabilities, and David would arrange fresh operating funds to come from the Dutch-based division of a French bank—Credit Lyonnais— that was beginning to build a big presence in Hollywood. Based on the distribution contracts David had arranged, they were willing to give Gladden $35 million. With the two banks, EAB and Credit Lyonnais, we might even create the kind of mini-studio that was David's ultimate ambition.

Credit Lyonnais, EAB absolutely never would have given Begelscam/Gladden $35M without McNall's co-sign/personal finances

🎦 Years later, I would realize that in that confrontation with David Begelman, I had had more options than I recognized. I could have fought David, suing him for bad faith, and for making deals for himself instead of Sherwood. Or I could have called his bluff, refusing to sign for the loans. No bank in the world would have lent to him without a cosigner, and who else would have done it after I told them how Begelman had betrayed me?

🎦 “David Begelman arranged for Gladden to pay the rent—more than $10,000 a month—on a Malibu beach house that Credit Lyonnais' Lending Officer, Frans Afman and his family occupied every summer. Franz was also our frequent guest at the best restaurants in L.A., and on at least one occasion, when we heard his summer vacation fund was running low, we sent him an envelope stuffed with cash.”

“Gladden wasn't the only film company making payments to Franz Afman”

🎦 “In fact, Begelman kept drawing more and more out of Gladden, until his annual pay reached $1 million.”

🎦 “David was irritable and lived for his weekends, which began with the ritual of a high-stakes poker game, held every Friday in a private room at a trendy restaurant in Beverly Hills called Mr. Chow. The games were attended by old-school movie people, including Walter Matthau. I suspected that, while the games provided an escape for David, they weren't helping his financial situation because he, too, seemed to draw more cash out of our businesses with every passing month. ”

🎦 “At Gladden Begelman maintained a huge staff—lawyers, public relations people, and production workers—that could not be supported by the small number of films we made. Arguing with him was useless, even though I was, technically, the boss. He would look at me with an expression that said, "Who are you to question me?" and the discussion would be over. As close as we were, David rarely shared his true feelings. On one of the few occasions when he let down his guard, however, he shocked me by saying that he thought suicide was a reasonable alternative to failure. "You know, life is the difficult part," he said. "Death is easy.”

🎦 “I was furiously defending myself from creditors and scrambling to make more money. I couldn't hope for a hot movie, because David Begelman hadn't gotten a new distribution deal and Gladden was all but shut down. ”

🎦 “Tom Sherak, who was head of Fox distribution, was such a good friend that a year earlier he had bailed me out of a serious problem that was a direct result of David Begelman's arrogance.

The crisis had involved the very last film David made, Mannequin Two (1991). Production had been financed by Credit Lyonnais on the premise that Fox would release and distribute the film. But it turned out that David had already completed his ten-picture run with Fox on Short Time (1990), and they were not obligated to handle Mannequin Two. David had hidden this fact from me, as well as the bank, assuming he could solve the problem. But months after the film was finished there was no sign that it was ever going to be shown anywhere.

When David finally told me the truth, I knew that if Credit Lyonnais found out, they would knock down our doors demanding an end to our financing and immediate repayment. So, I turned to Sherak for a favor. He agreed to distribute the film, if we paid the cost of advertising and prints. We agreed, and we averted a crisis with Credit Lyonnais. Unfortunately, we never had the“cash—$4.7 million—to pay Fox. Now Sherak was calling to ask why.”

🎦 "One afternoon, after many weeks had passed since I last saw him, David appeared at the door to my office. He was broke, he said, truly broke. And though he understood how desperate my situation was, he had nowhere else to turn. He asked if I could spare $100,000. It would be not a loan, or a gift, but an investment. Once his new company was running, I'd have a piece of it.

I didn't doubt that he was tapped out. Begelman's spending always exceeded what he earned, even when it was more than $1 million per year. He had hit me up for $10,000 here and $10,000 there, ever since we met. Another $100,000 wouldn't get him to next month, I guessed. But I didn't have the heart to turn him down. We had set aside some emergency funds, a couple million dollars, in accounts that could be used for this sort of purpose. In one final gesture, maybe for old time's sake, I wrote him a check for the amount he requested, and told him to cash it as soon as possible. As far as I was concerned, that was his seat in the lifeboat.”

[Joe Seliske · Rating 5 out of 5]

Remembering the hoopla over the Wayne Gretzky trade and the purchase of the Toronto Argonauts by the famous triumvirate, I was interested in what Bruce McNall had to say for himself. This seemingly honest narrative in the first person was a great story. We are led through a myriad of business deals that eventually Bruce himself lost track of. A lovely read. He (for a while) found all the adulation that he needed.

[Samuel R. · Rating 5 out of 5]

I really enjoyed this book. I put it on part with Frank Abagnale's 'Catch Me if You Can'. You get to sit and watch as this person, who seems to have it all, travels through a series of successes and failures in what feels like a slow-moving train wreck, then watch as he comes through the storm a changed man.

[Russell R · Rating 5 out of 5]

another tale of greed and someone thinking they could break the rules.

[Adam · Rating 4 out of 5]

Pretty interesting read. There’s a bit of fluff that’s not needed but what a crazy story for a life.

[Dave Cottenie · Rating 4 out of 5]

A candid and interesting recounting of the fast-paced life led by Bruce McNall. A number fun anecdotes and stories about his life in ancient coins, the film industry and National Hockey League. Surprisingly, McNall goes into his life in prison and his challenges, showing contrition and regret. Perhaps a little self-serving, but shocking how banks were willing to give so much credit with nothing to back it.

[Dale Shirt · Rating 4 out of 5]

I'm not a literary critic. It was just a fascinating and honest reflection of a life in the fast lane and some 12 step work that helped him make sense of his motivations and actions. That takes some courage...

[Michãel · Rating 4 out of 5]

Maybe it was actually knowing one of the people mentioned in the book, but I thought this was a good read. The story is told without apology or glossing over the bad decisions.

[Donie Nelson · Rating 5 out of 5]

Wonderful insights--I worked there and now I know what was going on!