by Curt Schleier
JERRY OFFSAY IS BUSY working the room.
There he is schmoozing with Marg Helgenberger, lately of China
Beach.
Judd Hirsch, F. Murray Abraham, and author Elmore Leonard all receive
dollops
of the Offsay charm.
It was a bright afternoon earlier this year when the Rainbow
Room
atop the General Electric building in Rockefeller Center became
Hollywood
East. Offsay, president of programming for Showtime Networks, Inc.,
has
come to New York from his base in Los Angeles to announce about six
months
worth of original programming to a roomful of television industry media
people. Parceled out among the reporters are the stars and directors
and
screen writers, who have come to help promote their various projects.
Because he controls a big budget, Offsay is a showbiz
powerhouse.
Though not massive by the standards of a major studio, which can blow
$200
million-plus on one motion picture, he has enough dollars at his
disposal
to finance several original series as well as over 50 films a year.
Some
are kung-fu-fighter-action trash or the late-night R-rated softcore
porn
that made cable famous.
But there are also a surprising number of quality productions:
The
Twilight of the Golds (based on the Jonathan Tolins play about the way
in
which a family copes with the possibility of a gay child being born); In the Presence of Mine Enemies (a re-make of the Rod Serling Playhouse 90
drama set in 1943 Warsaw immediately before the ghetto uprising); and three
two-hour films produced by Barbra Streisand under the generic heading
Rescuers: Stories of Courage (about gentiles who risked their lives
rescuing victims of the Holocaust).
Later, as the room empties, film and TV director Jeremy Kagan
(he
won an Emmy for Chicago Hope and directed the theatrical film The
Chosen),
comes over to say good-bye to Offsay. Seeing an interview in progress,
he
turns to a reporter and says, "Showtime is the only place taking
chances,"
prompting a big and knowing smile from Offsay.
Offsay loves what he's doing. In a meeting with the same
reporter
a few months earlier, he complained about a cold, his heavy travel
schedule, which was starting to wear him down, and his inability to push
through a deal for a major motion picture he wanted to see produced.
Then
he caught himself in mid-kvetch and admitted he's left strict
instructions
with both his assistant and his wife, the gist of which is: if I
complain
about this job, please hit me.
The truth is, what's to complain about? Though it's just a few miles
away, even on a clear day you can't see the Bronx, where he was raised.
On
the one hand, that seems appropriate; the world he inhabits now is light years away from Parkchester development where he was raised.
But the truth is that Offsay has brought his Bronx sensibilities
with him -- to his home in Los Angeles and to his job at Showtime.
Consider
that Offsay, who attended Hebrew school for five years and for
four-and-a-half-of them had an extremely good attendance record at
junior
congregation (30 out of 52 weeks), sends his four children to Hebrew day
school, where they spend seven-and-a-half hours each day--five on
secular
studies; the remainder on Judaica.
"In Hebrew school," he explains, "I got a lot of the historical
and
cultural. What I didn't get was the ethical, and I wanted my children to
get that. I also wanted to get them away from the materialistic bent
some
of the private schools in Los Angeles."
While he laughs at the idea that Jews control Hollywood -- "That's
a
most absurd notion," he contends -- he is extremely candid how his being
Jewish affects the films he makes, the actors he casts and his views of
the
way Jews are portrayed in Tinseltown. Ethics, the need to do the right
thing,
even tikkun olam are expressions that pepper his conversation.
For example, Offsay says he was heavily criticized by some for
the
Showtime movie Critical Choices, which presented both sides of the
abortion
issue, including a sympathetic portrayal of right-to-lifers. "There are
pro-life people," he says, "who are good decent people, get up on a
Saturday morning, but, instead of taking their children to a soccer
field,
set up a card table outside an abortion clinic and quietly try to
proselytize people. They think they're saving people from atrocities akin to gas chambers...
"There are no blacks and whites in real life. That's what I get
from my background. To put myself in somebody else's shoes. To be able
to
see things from their perspective. That informs everything we try to
do."
That is not the only way his Yiddishkeit affects his and
Showtime's
outlook. "I think we try and do day in and day out good, dramatic
storytelling about real people and real-life situations. I don't think
we're Pollyanna when we do our films. The good guy doesn't always win,
because that wouldn't reflect the reality of the world. But especially
when it comes to kid's films, we like to do something that has a strong
moral compass to it, that shows good will triumph and evil will be
punished, that there is a right and a wrong in the world and doing the
right thing counts for something."
His Judaism has come up in other ways as well. There have been
instances where he has been presented scripts in which Jews are
portrayed
negatively where he has chosen to pass on the film. "I didn't want to
make
that sort of negative story about a Jewish person. I can remember that
entering my thought process at the time. It's happened two or three
times,
where I've said if someone is going to take that, let it be somebody
else.
I can't stop it from being made, but I'm not going to be the person who
brings it forth."
In a similar vein, he mentions a Showtime film -- he asks that the
name not be printed -- in which the director was planning to cast an
"identifiably Jewish character" in the patently villainous role. "I
didn't
want a Jewish guy playing such a virulently hateful character," Offsay
admits.
Generally he has no feeling, one way or the other, about the
manner
in which Jews are portrayed in the media. "That's a broad question," he
says. It's all over the lot. Look at Judd Hirsch's character in
Independence Day. There were people who were furious about it, saying he
was just a caricature of the little Jewish man. And then there were
others
who were thrilled that they had the guts in this mainstream commercial
movie to show a little old Jewish man, what he believed in, what he
thought."
Offsay has mixed feelings even towards his own Twilight of the Golds, in which a Jewish family is
conflicted about what to do when genetic testing reveals that the
patriarch's first grandchild, still a fetus, carries genes that indicate
a
propensity to homosexuality. It was an extremely well-drawn drama, and
showed the Golds warts and all.
"When their warts were showing, I said I wish these people were
anything other than Jews. I have reservations, with all the antisemitism in
the
world, showing Jews with warts on them, because people of a certain mindset could say, 'ah, that's the way Jews are,' and draw generalizations. The
flip side of that is that we ought to be able to honestly portray all
people, their pluses and minuses."
Offsay is a fan of Paul Reiser in Mad About You and Jerry
Seinfeld,
both obviously Jewish characters, a side of their personalities they
rarely
if ever deal with. "I can't remember an episode where they did, and
probably they should," he says. "If you're being true-to-life, it comes
up
no matter how you may distance yourself."
In truth, he says, religion of any kind is hardly a factor on
television. Other than Christmas episodes, there's no hint of religion
of
any other people. No one talks that they went to church on Sunday or
Jews
going to temple. It's just not there."
Offsay was the third of four children. His father operated a
small
point-of-purchase display design company and painted on weekends and his
mother was the company bookkeeper. Their son was not only precocious,
but
bright. He attended the prestigious Bronx High School of Science, and,
after college, Columbia Law School. It wasn't until law school that he
showed any interest in films. A summer working at a Los Angeles firm
that
had an entertainment law practice convinced him.
He joined that firm after graduating, and, though made a partner
at
age 28, decided his future lay elsewhere. He worked first at RKO and
then
at ABC productions, the latter an opportunity to do "post-graduate
training
in television... the best four years I could have spent in terms of
understanding the business. I learned what people respond to, the
difference between a good script and a bad script."
He discovered that broadcast networks had largely abandoned the
intelligent two-hour film. "If it was exploitative, if it was a
true-crime
with a somewhat tawdry element, we thought we had a good shot at selling
it
to one of the [broadcast] networks. If it required a little more
thinking,
if it was a little less obvious entertainment, then we knew we weren't
going to be able to sell it to one of the networks.
"We did at ABC Productions the highest-rated of the three Amy
Fisher movies. But the amazing thing is that all three networks bought
the
Amy Fisher story."
So when the opportunity to move to Showtime came up, Offsay saw
it
not only as an opportunity to move from seller to buyer of product, but
a
chance to produce more and better films. At the time, Showtime still
relied almost exclusively on re-runs of theatricals, had only eight
original films on its schedule annually -- hardly the critical mass to
get
people to sign up for the service.
It wasn't just a power trip. "The whole goal of this
programming
exercise is to make people feel they're missing something if they don't
have Showtime. To do that, first they have to know you exist in this
crowded universe that we operate in."
Offsay soon began okaying edgy, theatrical-quality films that
are
beginning to put Showtime in the kind of rarified stratosphere
heretofore
limited to competitor HBO. Moreover, he worked out unique deals with
producers that allows them to release their films theatrically before or
after a Showtime airing.
This is how Jeffrey, a Showtime film, went to movie houses prior
to
its cable airing. Similarly, several movies -- including Kevin Bacon's
widely praised Losing Chase -- were released to theaters after they aired
on
the network.
Steve Hewitt, who worked for Offsay as executive vice president
of
the Showtime Entertainment Group and currently is president of Hallmark
Entertainment Group, calls it a "brilliant strategy. He had an enormous
impact from the moment he came in and took control. He's so fluent in
all
aspects of original programming, it's extraordinary."
His bosses thought enough of him to sign Offsay up for four more
years.
"It is a nerve-wracking business, this network programming." But a
memory of his childhood, "something I've recaptured 25 years later,"
reminded him of where he could find his center:
"I remember the junior congregation being the quietest hour of
the
week. The time you could most reflect on things. I now find that I go
to
services less frequently as I did as a kid, but with my son on the bar
mitzvah
circuit I go about once every three weeks. I find it absolutely
calming,
an oasis in a world of complete turmoil."
Showtime's Jerry Offsay and the art of production
Curt Schleier is a freelance writer and author who also teaches writing
to business executives. As of this issue, he becomes a regular JWR
contributor.