$100 million, bringing the year's total to almost $400 million. Debt had been reduced to well below SI00 million from the more than $220 million that had nearly swamped the company just before the new management took over in 1973. In the late spring of 1977 the banks had increased Columbia's line of credit and lowered the interest rate they were charging.
Alan Hirschfield was delighted but not satisfied. Although Columbia was healthy again, it remained essentially what it had been since the Cohn brothers and Joe Brandt founded it in 1920—one of the smaller of the major entertainment companies. Its revenues were less than half those of Warner Communications Incorporated, parent of the vast Warner Bros, group of movie, television, and record companies, and also less than half those of MCA Incorporated, whose principal subsidiary. Universal Pictures, was supplemented by a diverse cluster of other businesses, including major publishing interests.
With a modest amount of luck, Hirschfield believed, Columbia could double its size. Much depended on Close Encounters of the Third Kind, the most expensive and ambitious film the company had ever made. Hirschfield . David Begelman , and a growing number of other insiders felt that Close Encounters, scheduled to open in November, stood a chance of becoming one of the biggest box-office hits of all time. If it did, Columbia's coffers would be overflowing and the company would be in a position to make another major acquisition or two. Alan Hirschfield had his eye on several companies. They included Mattel Incorporated, the world's largest toy company, which made Barbie dolls and Hot Wheels, owned the Ringling Bros, and Barn um & Bailey Circus, and financed a few movies. (Mattel had co - produccd the award-winning Sounder starring Cicely Tyson and Paul Winfield in 1972.) High on Hirschfield's list as well was EMI Ltd.. the huge London-based entertainment conglomerate which owned Capitol Records and major motion picture and television interests. If Columbia Pictures Industries somehow could get its hands on Mattel, and then the combined corporation could go after EMI, Columbia would ascend to the ranks of Warner and MCA where Hirschfield longed to be. For the time being, however, he was willing to await the results of Close Encounters and bask in the immediate glow of record corporate profits and revenues.
Alan Hirschfield gave several press interviews that summer, having always attracted good press, even before Columbia's new success was certified. Reporters, especially women, enjoyed interviewing him. He was an attractive man—a six-footer of medium build with an athletic bearing, hair that was expertly coiffed even though thinning and graying, and a countenance that revealed his droll, playful personality through twinkling eyes and the trace of a smile. Relaxed and informal, he laughed easily and often, and his speaking voice was the kind of soft,-gentle adult voice that children find comforting.
In 1975, Hirschfield had been the subject of major articles in The Wall Street Journal, Forbes, and Variety. "Imagine!" exclaimed Forbes. "All but broke in 1973, Columbia under Alan Hirschfield suddenly has three hits: Funny Lady (Streisand), Tommy (Elton John), and Shampoo (Julie Christie, Warren Beatty)." In 1976, Business Week had published two articles portraying Hirschfield as a management wizard. Unlike those pieces, however, which were prompted by specific news events, the interviews in the summer of 1977 pointedly reflected Hirschfield's increasing visibility as a personality—a major figure in the entertainment business. Financial columnist Dan Dorfman, after interviewing Hirschfield, wrote in New York and New West ma gazines: "Twentieth Century-Fox, with its Star Wars, may be the hottest play in the stock market, but Columbia Pictures is on its way to stealing center stage." An article in Women's Wear Daily, carrying the headline, alan hirschfield setting a profit motif at
Alan Hirschfield was delighted but not satisfied. Although Columbia was healthy again, it remained essentially what it had been since the Cohn brothers and Joe Brandt founded it in 1920—one of the smaller of the major entertainment companies. Its revenues were less than half those of Warner Communications Incorporated, parent of the vast Warner Bros, group of movie, television, and record companies, and also less than half those of MCA Incorporated, whose principal subsidiary. Universal Pictures, was supplemented by a diverse cluster of other businesses, including major publishing interests.
With a modest amount of luck, Hirschfield believed, Columbia could double its size. Much depended on Close Encounters of the Third Kind, the most expensive and ambitious film the company had ever made. Hirschfield . David Begelman , and a growing number of other insiders felt that Close Encounters, scheduled to open in November, stood a chance of becoming one of the biggest box-office hits of all time. If it did, Columbia's coffers would be overflowing and the company would be in a position to make another major acquisition or two. Alan Hirschfield had his eye on several companies. They included Mattel Incorporated, the world's largest toy company, which made Barbie dolls and Hot Wheels, owned the Ringling Bros, and Barn um & Bailey Circus, and financed a few movies. (Mattel had co - produccd the award-winning Sounder starring Cicely Tyson and Paul Winfield in 1972.) High on Hirschfield's list as well was EMI Ltd.. the huge London-based entertainment conglomerate which owned Capitol Records and major motion picture and television interests. If Columbia Pictures Industries somehow could get its hands on Mattel, and then the combined corporation could go after EMI, Columbia would ascend to the ranks of Warner and MCA where Hirschfield longed to be. For the time being, however, he was willing to await the results of Close Encounters and bask in the immediate glow of record corporate profits and revenues.
Alan Hirschfield gave several press interviews that summer, having always attracted good press, even before Columbia's new success was certified. Reporters, especially women, enjoyed interviewing him. He was an attractive man—a six-footer of medium build with an athletic bearing, hair that was expertly coiffed even though thinning and graying, and a countenance that revealed his droll, playful personality through twinkling eyes and the trace of a smile. Relaxed and informal, he laughed easily and often, and his speaking voice was the kind of soft,-gentle adult voice that children find comforting.
In 1975, Hirschfield had been the subject of major articles in The Wall Street Journal, Forbes, and Variety. "Imagine!" exclaimed Forbes. "All but broke in 1973, Columbia under Alan Hirschfield suddenly has three hits: Funny Lady (Streisand), Tommy (Elton John), and Shampoo (Julie Christie, Warren Beatty)." In 1976, Business Week had published two articles portraying Hirschfield as a management wizard. Unlike those pieces, however, which were prompted by specific news events, the interviews in the summer of 1977 pointedly reflected Hirschfield's increasing visibility as a personality—a major figure in the entertainment business. Financial columnist Dan Dorfman, after interviewing Hirschfield, wrote in New York and New West ma gazines: "Twentieth Century-Fox, with its Star Wars, may be the hottest play in the stock market, but Columbia Pictures is on its way to stealing center stage." An article in Women's Wear Daily, carrying the headline, alan hirschfield setting a profit motif at
Similar Books
