Memories of Miramax

I see there is a new book about Harvey Weinstein. I was momentarily tempted to read it, but I quickly decided to pass. His crimes are too sickening.

Harvey Weinstein left a stain on our entire culture. His crimes against women are unforgivable. He hurt a lot of people. Women whose lives were damaged or even destroyed by his abusive ways.

He hurt us in other ways as well.

The '90s were a great decade for movies. My movie obsession was at its peak and I lived and breathed film. I read Film Threat religiously. I watched everything from blockbuster productions to grimy underground opuses. I had two TVs and three VCRs set up in my living room and they were constantly at work.

Independent movies were the rage in the grunge decade. Smart, original, groundbreaking films that challenged the norm and stimulated the brain. Sex, Lies, and Videotape jumpstarted the era. Many more movies followed.

I look back with infinite fondness. I loved the big movies that changed the landscape of cinema: Pulp Fiction, Good Will Hunting, The Crying Game, The Player, Clerks, Sling Blade. I also loved the little pictures. Odd curiosities such as The Young Poisoner's Handbook, Welcome to the Dollhouse, Living in Oblivion, The Reflecting Skin, Mrs. Parker and the Vicious Circle, and The Living End.

Passionate young filmmakers burned to tell stories. Some went on to be successful Hollywood players: Kevin Smith, Matt Damon, Billy Bob Thornton, Steven Soderbergh, David O. Russel, Peter Jackson, and of course Quentin Tarantino. Other talented directors never made the cut. Tom DiCillo, Allison Anders, and Tom Kalin should have had much bigger careers.

Mavericks from the past were embraced by the new indie culture. David Cronenberg, Jim Jarmusch, David Lynch, Woody Allen, John Waters, John Sayles, and Neil Jordon were godfathers of the movement, and they did some of the best work of their careers in the '90s.

There were other distributors of independent film, like FineLine, Sony Pictures Classics, and October Film, but Miramax was the biggest and most influential of them all.

Miramax, named after Weinstein parents Miriam and Max, had humble origins. They distributed small concert films and produced modest little movies. They were responsible for one of the best slasher movies with The Burning.

Distribution was their bread and butter. The lifeblood of Miramax was their post production facility. Harvey had a derisive nickname: "Harvey Scissorhands". He was notorious for re-editing and cutting down films acquired by Miramax. Many filmmakers were incensed by it, but some were philosophical. The Weinsteins knew the market better than most young directors. A shrewd re-edit could make the difference between a million or two dollar profit, or ten, twenty or even more dollars of revenue.

Harvey Weinstein was almost personally responsible for getting foreign and art films into the malls. These type of pictures generally played in big city independent theaters, but the Weinsteins passionately pushed them into the mainstream. Movies like Cinema Paradiso, Il Postino, Chungking Express, and The Crying Game were among the most popular foreign films ever to hit American shores.

Miramax championed the underdogs. Films that challenged and often offended midwest sensibilities. They also brought cultivated art films to the public. The House of the Spirits, The English Patient, Shakespeare in Love. The latter type of films have never been favorites of mine, but I was glad someone was doing them.

Pulp Fiction was the movie that really put Miramax on the map. They had been very successful before it came out, but the Weinsteins's power and reach grew exponentially with Pulp's enormous popularity.

The Weinsteins developed a reputation as ruthless businessmen. Accounts of bullying tactics and shady deals abounded. They were not to be taken lightly. I'm sure there is a lot of truth to the stories. Everyone knows the world of movie making is shark-filled water. Had they not been so merciless they wouldn't have seen so much success. And we would have missed out on a lot of amazing movies.

For a while there, in the mid-'90s, it was a kind of paradise. Great movies coming out all the time, always something new and exciting to go see or to rent. It was like the glory days of 1970s filmmaking again. An era of the director.

As the turn of the century approached, change was in the air. The big studios took notice of the money being made by the indies. They began to assimilate the independent distributors. Hollywood is always looking to reinvent itself through imitation.

At one time name actors like Harvey Keitel and Robin Williams would accept small salaries to be in good films. Budgets grew. Event pictures took priority over smart little productions. Studio pictures and independent movies became indistinguishable. The writing was on the wall when Miramax brought out She's All That, a successful but witless teen comedy, in 1999.

There were no more risky movies like Kids; The Cook, the Thief, His Wife and Her Lover; or Priest. Even the foreign acquisitions were watered-down and tepid. Chocolat, anyone?

Miramax trudged on after that. Making some good movies here and there, but the magic was gone. A new era of independent movie was ushered in by the huge success of The Blair Witch Project. The days of true filmmaking, as opposed to digital production, were numbered.

Of course Harvey Weinstein was accused of dozens of accounts of sexual abuse. He was found guilty of rape and sexual assault. As I write this he continues to attempt to appeal the verdict. He is incarcerated in Twin Towers Correctional Facility, in Los Angeles.

In the early '90s Film Threat Magazine had a running feature called Tales from the Casting Couch, in which people in the movie business gave accounts of sexual intimidation and abuse. They were far ahead of the Me Too movement, but not enough people took it seriously. Sexual discrimination was an open secret in Hollywood (and elsewhere) for too long.

I bet Harvey Weinstein sits in his cell with nothing but regrets. He could have gone down in history along with names like Selznick, Laemmle, and Meyer. He could be a free and wealthy man who continued to take chances with good movies that deserve to be seen. Instead he is one of the most despised human beings in existence.

In addition to his crimes of assault, Weinstein poisoned the memory of two decades of mostly good films, and he tainted the legacy of hard work from thousands of men and women in the movie business.

The era of the director is over. I don't think many know or care who directs a superhero movie. These features have a platoon of producers and a coterie of screenwriters. Hardly an era of auteurs. It's filmmaking by committee. Maybe one day, hopefully soon, there will be another revolution of cinema and music. We desperately need one.

Written by Mark Sieber