Murder in Kansas — and the Mini-Series That Les Moonves Lost

 

Twenty-five years ago, in the halcyon days of TV movies and miniseries, there was that one story that broke, sometimes on the front page of the Los Angeles Times, sometimes in the magazine section, in a regional magazine, on the pages of a national magazine like the New Yorker and sometimes it was everywhere.

The amazing thing about what was once called "Kansas Gothic" was that, unlike most every other scenario, it did not begin with me. Traditionally, something hit me about a story and I became obsessive about getting it, selling it and seeing it made by one of my clients. Religious hypocrites in Kansas? Couldn't care less.

Otherwise occupied, I never flew anywhere to meet with rights holders or lawyers — the key figures seemed eager to come to me. In fact, I remember a Tuesday staff meeting in which Alan Berger held up the Times to discuss what's going on with this incredible true story … as if to ask "Are we losing out?" Usually I'm the front man, and, yes I had in the past flown all over the country to secure rights to what I believed could be sold, or was already sold to a network or cable company, as long as you brought back the "rights."

What rights? Sometimes even the pros didn't know what rights to get. When asked at USC or UCLA or NYU by would-be producers "What rights do I need?" the best answer was, "Whatever the network, the buyer, says you need. But sometimes even they're not sure. 

What it was was: 

In 1982, Emporia, Kansas, Tom Bird, an ambitious and charismatic Lutheran minister, falls in love with one of his parishioners, Lorna Anderson. Within a short time both Bird's wife and Anderson's husband are dead. The clever staging of the two murders almost foils the authorities but for the suspicions of a highway patrolman.

At least that was the focus of the L.A. Times front page story. At the same time, two unknown writers wrote a treatment, in which they also tell the patrolman's story. They bring it to producer Zev Braun, who calls me and says we should get the rights to patrolman John Rule.

I have no plans to chase the story to Emporia, Kansas, as I learn from the grapevine that Henry Winkler has the rights to the felons (!) and appears to have a deal with ABC, and Dick Clark has made a deal with the Kansas Bureau of Investigation cop and possibly two Kansas journalists who had been covering the story locally. He's in serious talks with NBC.

Early in 1986 there were published accounts everywhere about Tom, Lorna and the deaths of their spouses. Calvin Trillin wrote a detailed account in the New Yorker. The Kansas City Star carried a two-part series in its magazine section. Even with all this exposure, it took Scott Kraft’s Los Angeles Times story to really catch Hollywood’s attention.

Marcy Casey, very rich from half hour network hits, was the first to acquire rights when she optioned Calvin Trillin's New Yorker article. Bob Cooper, a former HBO exec, had an agreement with the cable company to develop a movie based on Scott Kraft Times story but it went away. And Carsey, too busy, never tried to sell her Trillin piece.

A producer and a development exec from Interscope both made the trek to Emporia, but Interscope owner Ted Fields, encouraged them to join forces with Braun to enable the focus to have a single captain — me.

At CBS there were at least two TV movie executives who both wanted the story. John Kander was facilitating production company Lorimar which saw it as four hours. Steve Mills, Kansas-born and a gentleman, the actual boss of CBS movie operations, was unsure it was more than two hours, liked Zev Braun and didn't necessarily believe that Lorimar had the "lock" on the rights as Kander had declared. 

Lorimar, in the person of Les Moonves, flew John Rule to Los Angeles to meet with the network and his staff with the intention to push CBS to develop a four-hour, focusing on Rule. As Rule had been told a dizzying array of stories about what awaits him ($2,000 or $2 million, I heard so many numbers it made no sense at all.) What did resonate was the recommendation of three producers that he find representation.

One of the producers, Freddie Brisson, Rosalind Russel's husband, advised Rule to contact me, the Morris agent. I had never met Mr. Brisson, so it was a bizarre but flattering suggestion. Rule called me, we chatted briefly and arranged to meet on Lorimar's dime. 

In the meantime, 11 companies were wildly making offers for everyone's rights. Madness to be sure. 

Loraine and John Rule came to my office and we discussed the reality of the dollars. I explained the option system. Until the network actually commits to paying for the production of a movie, they only pay a percentage of the rights fee. So if you were to get $25,000 per hour for a two-hour, you would get only $2,500 upfront and the full payment when they decided to order the movie to be made.

"What if it's more than two hours?" If it turns out to be three or four you would get an additional $25,000. I mean, that's my opinion as what would be fair. 

"People were talking about millions!"

"They always do, that's why I don't chase these anymore. I'm tired of meeting with real estate lawyers who demand millions. TV movies only cost a bit over $2 million for the entire production."

"Well now we understand better. Will you represent me?"

"Sure. Hungry? Want to eat Hollywood style?"

"Sure."

I took them to the Polo Lounge.

I've represented seasoned TV movie producers, upon receiving a network pickup whisper to me delusionally "you know how special this movie is … this is the one that Clint Eastwood (or Paul Newman or George Clooney) take your pick, will agree to do because the material is so special. Right. But this nice couple from Hays, Kansas, says, "We discussed Jon Voight playing John, but he's not ready yet for TV, so we would love Keith Carradine. We saw an ABC baseball movie "A Winner Never Quits" where he played Pete Gray and he would be perfect."

I loved the Rules.

The grapevine told me that Winkler's ABC deal was falling by the wayside because they suddenly understood they were going to be giving felons money. We never understood what exactly Dick Clark had. The two Kansas reporters, receiving daily pressure from Lorimar, decided to go where John Rule went, so once they heard from John, they called to advise me that they would go with WMA and take my direction.

It was my responsibility in agreeing to represent them to lead them to the best deal. If the best deal had been Lorimar and Interscope did not match it, I would have had to recommend the place that would not pay my company its packaging fee. 

Les Moonves called. "I understand you're representing John Rule and the reporters. We want to make an offer."

"Fine, I will bring any offers to my clients." 

"Will Lorimar honor our package? You know we do not pay a package fee."

"Les, exceptions are made every day in this business, I just closed a deal with Universal for an agency package and they have never paid a package fee since Carl Lemelle owned the studio."

"Well that's something you would have to take up with Merv Adelson."

Moonves offered $75,000 for Rule and $50,000 for the journalists.

I strongly urged Braun and Sam Fischer, attorney for Interscope, to match or beat the offer. They agreed.

Moonves believed that Interscope had already made an offer. "Where is Interscope in this?"

"I can't reveal that. But I would suggest you come back with your best offer and the willingness to work with us on this." 

Moonves was not happy. An hour later Lee Stevens called from New York. "Arthur, how you doing? Merv Adelson wants you fired. What's up?" I explained. "So you got caught fighting to protect your package? Well I'll tell Merv I took immediate action and gave you a raise."

I truly expected Lorimar to return with a better offer and also a package agreement. The value of a four-hour movie in the international market with sex, religion and murder was major. It would have thrown a curve into getting this for a client, but it would have made perfect business sense. If, for example, they didn't want the industry to know they were paying a package fee, we would have agreed not to disclose the fact. They didn't return and the deal was Interscope's.

In the meantime Zev called and said he wanted deals drafted for Scott Kraft's Times article and the two writers Scott and Wilson, the two Kansas journalists, plus the Kansas Bureau of Investigation cop. Lots and lots of rights.

I had worked with writer-director Mike Robe before. The Kansas-born CAA client was brought in by CBS regardless of who ultimately cobbled together the rights. He in turn brought in James Sadwith to write the second two hours while he concentrated on blueprinting his intended direction. 

Before writer Sadwith had completed his second two hours, Mills, in an effort to knock out the other network competition, ordered the miniseries to production. Zev Braun was convinced that Robe had a special feeling for the community, had grown up and gone to college in Kansas and spoke the language. He turned out to very right and his miniseries is one of the best of the genre ever made.

Kris Kristofferson, a friend of Braun was the producer's first choice to play "John Rule." He liked the teleplay but had just completed a major ABC mini "Amerika" and didn't want to be in competition with himself.

"Murder Ordained" with a cast that included Keith Carradine, JoBeth Williams, John Goodman, Kathy Bates and Terry Kinney, was telecast on two evenings and won its time periods.

Losing this four-hour for his company apparently did not damage Les Moonves' television career. He became head of Warner Bros. TV when it absorbed Lorimar. He then went on to run CBS and last year was paid $59 million in salary and bonuses.

I, however, own my very own VHS copy of this fahcockta mini-series.