Joe Wambaugh, Patty Duke — and the End of NBC’s ‘Features’ Game

1987. The soon-to-be-published Joseph Wambaugh true crime bestseller "Echoes in the Darkness" was "too big" to be a theatrical feature, signaling the chase to get it for TV as a miniseries. Wambaugh came to the William Morris Agency to check me out. 

The former LAPD detective sergeant, unimpressed with the trappings of Hollywood, appeared to like me enough to sign papers and have me get him something he didn't find himself. Which is not what other agents had done. I immediately got him an assignment to adapt someone else's book at ABC. I also brought him to the head of series at CBS where we sold a one hour about laid-back cops he called "Palm Springs Heat."

Joe was appreciative and brought me a script he had written on his own based on his novel "The Secrets of Harry Bright." It was riveting, if a bit dark, and it coincided with NBC's announcement of a theatrical feature division. Since we needed a "non-show business producer" to work with Wambaugh, I also brought the script to producers Bill and Pat Finnegan 

Before NBC had a chance to hire a feature movie chief, Brandon Tartikoff agreed to take submissions. I called him, and he and John Agoglia met with me and Wambaugh. Following the meeting it was advised that, with a major director (not a star as usual) they would greenlight it. Bob Fosse was our first choice, and I accepted the assignment of calling his agent Sam Cohn. 

There were bets in the office that he would never take my call — and not return it, either. That was his M.O. He picked up immediately. "Sam, I represent Joe Wambaugh."

"I know that, Arthur. How can I help you?"

"Well Joe has written a wonderful screenplay based on his New York Times bestseller and he would like Bob Fosse to direct. We have interest from NBC to produce it as a theatrical feature."

"Yes, I know that, too."

"Why don't you send it to me overnight and I will get it to Bob?"

"Actually I have a better idea. Overnight one to me, and here is Bob's address in D.C. and then we can all sing out of the same prayer book."

"Terrific."

And I did as Cohn requested. You may remember the rest. Fosse was walking to the theater with Gwen Vernon in Washington when he suffered the massive heart attack that ended his life.

Joe, the Finnegans and I felt as if we had been hit in the stomach. NBC, as quickly as it went into "features," was soon out.

So I asked Joe if we could do it for TV. He agreed and I called Allen Sabinson at ABC. Allen liked Bill Finnegan who was low key and had come up from the "nuts and bolts" line producing ranks. Because of Bill and Joe Wambaugh, he personally read it overnight. He called first thing the next morning to say that he wanted to make it and was ordering it to picture, subject to closing a license fee. I sent out the glorious memo worldwide. 

Finnegan and his staff begin to make plans; a budget, casting and location scout. A week goes by and Allen calls. "I have an enormous favor to ask. Brandon (Stoddard) read Joe's script and he said 'I have never disliked anything so much in my life. It's relentless, it's a downer. If you still retain any degree of sense and reason you'll find a way to get out of it.' Arthur, I need you to help me get out of the commitment."

"Allen, give me 10 minutes to think."

I hung up and placed my head on my beautiful art deco desk that Merle Sheridan had found for me. Of course, getting into a battle with ABC was not in the cards, I would have to let Allen off the hook. But I didn't want the "three scripts for one movie" kinds of deals they would offer. You keep sending them scripts, they keep passing. I wanted an actual firm two hour with liquidated damages if a movie is not produced within a year. I went back to Allen with that demand.

He was thrilled and promised I wouldn't regret it.

It would soon come back to haunt me.

The next day Gil Cates came in to visit holding a book. It was Patty Duke's biography "Call Me Anna." It had been out for many years and, when first published, I had tried to sell it as a four hour with no interest. I even received a threatening call from an agent named Jerry Zeitman who said he didn't need WMA to help him sell the book.

Really? I asked Gil what deal he made with Duke. Oh, she agrees to appear in it (big deal, at the time she was grabbing any episode in TV she could get) and the ownership would be 50/50. She'd appear in a small scene at the end.

I called Allen at ABC and pitched him the movie. He laughed. "I guess it's the answer to the question 'Do you make a movie about someone you wouldn't cast in a movie?' I've been pitched it over the years, but I only see it as two-hour. If we can do it as a two-hour within your Finnegan commitment, you have a deal."

I put down the phone and asked Gil. "Did you ever get something sold so quickly?" When he understood that some guy named Finnegan was a part of this deal, he was very angry. "Who the f— needs him? This is terrible. I am very angry. But good work."

A veteran TV movie bio adapter John McGreevey, wrote the script. The first draft, believe it or not, was delivered in longhand on lined, yellow legal pad and was terrible. You can only get away with this kind of behavior if you're "in demand." The second, third and fourth drafts were actually typed and significantly better and the fifth or sixth was ordered to production.

I visited the set in Santa Clarita and was thrown into makeup to appear as Arthur Penn in an awkward movie-within-a-movie scene. Gil introduced me to the actors as "Arthur Penn," and they believed it was he. For political reasons I wasn't even nominated for an Emmy.

During my one day acting gig, I hung out with Ari Meyers who played the young Patty Duke at 13 (she was actually 21) and was joined by the real Patty Duke who screamed "So Gil is trying to arrange ashidduch between us …"

I was taken aback that Duke was using Hebrew and correctly, so we laughed and I said "We want you at WMA." Actually there was a group of talent agents who were not crazy about the idea. But we did sign papers and it was there, at Jimmy's restaurant, that I created my very own "jack story."

I always hated when actresses adopted the hyphenated new name of their new husbands and Duke had been working as Patty Duke Astin. Now in love with former soldier Michael Pearce, she had been sending me notes on stationery that read "Anna Pearce." Before moving forward I would have to tell her, in no uncertain terms, that I didn't want to rep Anna Pearce or any variation.

"You know Ford bought Jaguar, I lectured. They're not going to market it under the brand Ford-Jaguar. It's still a Jaguar." She grabbed my hand. "Arthur, you've signed Patty Duke. That's it, end of discussion" I was happy. She did, however, alert me to the fact that "she doesn't fly and would never read (as in audition). I took note.

It was full speed ahead with career-changing moves for Duke. Before Axelman she was grasping for episodic work. On the heels of the biopic at ABC, I immediately booked her into a starring CBS movie and set up another to follow at NBC, followed by a campaign to get her a major ABC movie co starring Maureen Stapleton. She was becoming the new queen of TV movies. Thirty years of smoking had made her look ten years older than she was.

We had a telethon of properties flowing into the WMA-CBS' commitments for Angela Lansbury (20 years older) and dipped into the pile for Duke. But it was producer Michael Gruskoff's call that gave her the opportunity of a lifetime. He was producing the film vertsion of Craig Lucas' Broadway hit "Prelude to a Kiss" starring Meg Ryan and Alec Baldwin. I saw the breakdown and called about Anna for Ryan's mother.

So had a young agent in New York. We both got calls to see if Patty Duke would fly in and read for director Norman Rene and Lucas. Fly and Read? I agreed to talk to her.

Yes, I know all about not flying. "It's not fear, Arthur, I can't be five hours without a cigarette." I then invented the fact that MGM Grand Airlines permits smoking. (Not true.) I asked Gruskoff's office if they would switch Duke's flight to MGM and they agreed. My account of Patty Duke's New York trip and audition found its way into a book "Tales of the Casting Couch" by Terrie Frankel.

One of the more touching scenes was Patty Duke in the elevator with a group of actors heading for the office to read. One of the young auditioners whispers "… it never gets any better, even Patty Duke has to read." Just what she needed to hear. Get the book if you want the rest of the story.

She hadn't made a feature for 26 years and, therefore, did not have a quote. Since Ned Beatty was already booked to play her husband, I asked what he was getting and was told $250,000. That would be her fee as well. She was ecstatic.

I had wisely managed to stay away from actors for the greater part of my 21-year WMA career and here I had a close and deeply successful relationship with an acting client. She was instantly very affectionate, immediately hugging when we shot "Call Me Anna" and kissing and hugging at our signing meeting at Jimmy's.

A lesson for young agents, the more they express their love the deeper the red of the red flag. Beware. She promised loyalty ("if you ever leave, take me with you") and gratitude ("I have never had an agent I cared so much about …") 

When I left she sent me notes, one from Anna Pearce, another from Patty Duke. I responded with a note and a script and found that she had given them to WMA management telling them to demand that I stop contacting her. Other clients at the time had visited me (Frankenheimer sleeping on my couch), encouraged me, offered work, a blank check from a legendary comedian, another took me to lunch, still another brought me new potential properties, but the moment I was no longer with the office, Patty Duke was over and out.

Producer Zev Braun likes to tell the story that when his agent, me, was at the Morris office at Christmas, I would receive 298 Christmas cards more or less. (Not to mention the elaborate gifts from clients and buyers.) We used to string the cards up with red ribbon in the den. The holiday after I left I received 17. He said he always envisioned the image of the card senders with pen-in-hand: "He's not with Morris anymore, cross him off the list!"

It's a cold town.