‘Nobody’s Child’: My Package and My Triumph

I had bumped into Lee Grant walking the second-floor hallway and asked her for lunch.

She's not only a veteran actress but an accomplished, award-winning director and a dynamic, triple threat, and I had in my hands a true television movie that was simply made for Lee Grant. 

My father had sent me a Tropic Magazine from the Miami Herald that featured a cover story called "Are You Out There, Amy?"

Sue Billig from Coconut Grove, Fla., Miami's version of Greenwich Village, which I knew well, was searching for her missing daughter, who never came home after hitchhiking to her father's art gallery in 1974.

She was 17. Her mom followed leads about outlaw motorcycle gangs and even rode with them across the country to track them down as she was convinced that Amy was still alive.

I envisioned Lee Grant starring in and directing this movie for television. I had written to Sue Billig and got an immediate agreement to represent her story.

I also had an idea that everyone at CBS told me had never been done and probably violated some FCC rule. I wanted a phone number at the end of the credits for people with leads to call in.

They said it couldn't be done, but, as we all know, was wildly adapted later for unscripted TV shows and ultimately by TV movies. We never got a chance to test the network waters as Mrs. Billig, in her desperation, was all over the place.

Lee, an Actors Studio original, was still stunning, dynamic, vital, simply brilliant and funny.

Her husband, Joe Feury, was her producer, and they had an able and creative right hand named Milton Justice.

I was working out a more formal rights deal with Sue Billig, had CBS' interest (and NBC's as well) when producer John Newland came in to see me with the project.

He had an option agreement with Sue Billig, as did, I found out, three or four other TV producers.

I called her.

She didn't care how the TV-movie business worked; whomever was interested in telling her story, she would make a deal, multiple deals. I shared the bad news with Lee Grant. She was not surprised; a bit disappointed but sympathetic to the grieving mom. 

Then she handed it to me.

"Moving on, my darling, now read this!" — it was a brief treatment that told the Marie Balter story.

Marie was an abused child, a damaged soul — suicide attempt, a schizophrenic, believed to be retarded and ultimately institutionalized. She fought her demons, got a college degree, found romance, went to Harvard and on to get a PhD.

Not Sue Billig on a Harley but a poignant, emotional and true TV movie.

I took Lee, Joe and Milton into CBS specials division and pitched it and got a script deal. The writers, Mary Gallagher and Ara Watson, wrote a smart first draft. Lee plunged into the rewriting, as did Joe and Milton. 

While this was happening, a young TV exec named David Goldsmith had gotten a job at Gaylord Productions, a new supplier owned by a conservative company that also owned television stations.

He needed deals.

I do not remember the numbers that Joe Feury laid out for the potential umbrella, but it was dicey and expensive. Goldsmith agreed to it and "Marie Balter" was set up at Gaylord.

CBS Specials read the second draft and passed. We were astonished as it seemed like such an obvious star vehicle. I decided to wait before re-submitting to the network's regular TV movie division (who knew nothing about the property) by attaching a totally irresistible female lead. 

Client producer Ron Schwary was visiting, with cigarettes in hand, and knowing of his close relationship with Ann-Margret, I asked him to ask her to read the script. 

In my office, he got her on the line and she agreed. She also gave it to her CAA agent where it was "covered" internally and become a subject of interest to other CAA talent agents. At a staff meeting they agreed that whoever the actress was that committed to this picture, it could result in an Emmy. 

Schwary called to say Ann Margret was in.

I called Peter Frankovich at CBS, who said he would read the draft immediately. An hour later, looking at the script for the first time, Peter called and said, "But Arthur, Marie is 11 years old when we first meet her?" So? "But Ann Margret can't play that … You cast a child actor! Peter, that scene is for a few minutes … please finish the script and call me back …"

Suddenly Bill Haber (left), CAA co-founder, is calling. "Arthur, I want you to have a triumph. Your triumph. I want you to tell me that I have your blessing to give "Marie Balter" to Marlo Thomas." 

"Bill, this is a WMA-represented package." 

"Without question, it's your package. I just want it for Marlo."

"With that understanding, Bill, it's yours to give to your client. But first you must know of my experience with CBS."

"Arthur, I do know, we deal with the same idiots. Would you let me handle CBS?"

Why not?

Within the week, Haber happily reported that the picture had been ordered to production.

"It's yours to negotiate with CBS business affairs. I assume we have a firm offer for Marlo Thomas to star?"

"You have it, Haber."

He proceeded to tell me her deal. She wants to bring in Dyson Lovell, an an exec producer, to act as a buffer between Lee Grant's camp and hers. She wants Sven Nyquist, Bergman's cinematographer, to shoot the picture, and she wants her regular fees and perks, a small fortune.

Gaylord agreed to all. Marlo and Lee next had to meet for the first time. 

Marlo and Lee fought and battled each day of the shoot until both were brought to tears. Marlo won most battles, but the resulting picture, now called "Nobody's Child" began to acquire heat and attention and was nominated for the industry's accolades.

At the Emmys, my wife, Andrea, cried when Marlo Thomas won the Emmy as Haber planned. And even though she thanked him and not me, I believed Haber was right. To all my family on El Camino Drive, "Nobody's Child" was my package and my triumph.