Hollywood Memoirs: A Window into Entertainment Economics
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Table of Contents
Learning about the economics of industries like entertainment and sports can be surprisingly insightful. One might be tempted to say, “it’s all about the money,” but the complexities go far beyond that. Actor and director Tim Matheson, known for iconic roles in films like “Animal House” and “Fletch”, and also TV series like “The West Wing” and “Virgin river”, offers a engaging glimpse into this world in his new memoir.
“If you ever want to learn economics, just purchase books about entertainment and sports,” Matheson suggests. “It’s that simple. Considering antitrust alone, the whole profession could be put out of business by the memoirs and biographies written by actors and entertainment journalists.” And he’s not wrong.
matheson’s memoir, “Damn Glad to Meet You: My Life in Hollywood”, offers readers a behind-the-scenes look at the entertainment industry, highlighting the power dynamics, negotiations, and business dealings that shape careers and productions. His experiences provide valuable insights into the complex economic ecosystem of Hollywood,demonstrating how personal stories can illuminate broader industry trends.
Matheson’s insightful observations serve as a reminder that the entertainment world is not just about glamour and red carpets. It’s a complex business with its own set of rules,challenges,and rewards.
Tim Matheson: Hollywood’s Antitrust Case Study
Tim Matheson’s memoir, *Damn Glad to Meet You: My Seven Decades in the Hollywood Trenches*, offers a fascinating glimpse into the unpredictable nature of Hollywood success. Beyond entertaining anecdotes, Matheson’s career trajectory presents a compelling argument for free-market principles and challenges the assumptions often made by antitrust proponents. Many know Matheson as Eric “Otter” stratton from the iconic 1978 film *Animal House*. Though this role cemented his place in cinematic history, Matheson’s journey to stardom was anything but straightforward. Interestingly, the role almost went to Chevy Chase, a more established comedic actor at the time. yet, few, including director John Landis, Chase, and Matheson himself, predicted the blockbuster success of *Animal House*. This uncertainty highlights a key truth often overlooked in antitrust debates: predicting the future in business is inherently challenging. Landis secured the directorial role after more prominent names declined, and Matheson landed the coveted “Otter” part. chase, opting for the lead role in *Foul Play*, unknowingly sidestepped a career-defining opportunity. These decisions underscore the inherent risk and uncertainty that characterize market dynamics. “my dance card was filled for years, after Otter,” Matheson recounts.His post-*Animal House* success illustrates how quickly fortunes can change in Hollywood. While the film propelled him to stardom, by 1982 Matheson found himself starring in less-remembered films like *A Little Sex*. His experience demonstrates the volatile nature of market forces and how even established success is not a guarantee of future dominance. Matheson’s career serves as a valuable case study, revealing the limitations of antitrust arguments that assume incumbent powers will perpetually reign supreme. The reality is that future success is inherently uncertain, and market fluctuations can dramatically alter the landscape.The Price of Fame: Lessons from a Hollywood Actor’s Memoir
Bruce Campbell Doesn’t Do This Anymore, the memoir of actor and writer, Craig Matheson, offers a unique perspective on the fickle nature of fame and success in the entertainment industry. Matheson’s journey, filled with both triumphs and what he calls “failures and disappointments,” reveals a truth universal to aspiring artists: success is anything but guaranteed. He recounts missed opportunities, like turning down the role of David Addison in “Moonlighting” and choosing Steven spielberg’s “1941” over the comedic masterpiece “Airplane!”. These decisions, while seemingly unconventional at the time, illustrate the inherent uncertainty and risk-taking involved in navigating a career in Hollywood.The Giants Fall: The Illusion of stability
Matheson’s story,however,goes beyond personal anecdotes. It sheds light on a broader economic principle: even the most seemingly invincible giants are susceptible to stumbles. Just as matheson faced uncertainties, so too do established companies and industries. Innovation is often born not from catering to existing markets but from leading consumers in unforeseen directions. The rapid ascent of the iPhone, displacing the dominant Blackberry, perfectly exemplifies this phenomenon.Its success wasn’t solely predicated on understanding existing consumer preferences; it was about creating a new desire, a new experience, ultimately revolutionizing the smartphone landscape.The Relentless Chase for the Top
Matheson poignantly describes the relentless competition within Hollywood, where everyone is vying for that coveted spot at the “right” table, seeking recognition from powerful executives. He recounts the social anxieties of fame, the pressure to maintain relevance, and the constant fear of being forgotten. This pervasive sense of competition is a reminder that success, particularly in industries like entertainment, is a perpetually moving target. he observes a 24/7 effort to “get rid of you” – a testament to the cutthroat nature of the industry. This observation offers a unique perspective on the debate surrounding monopolies: allowing businesses to prosper without excessive regulation can ironically accelerate their downfall.The allure of success attracts ambitious entrepreneurs who relentlessly pursue the “unachievable,” challenging the status quo and driving innovation.The Fear of oblivion
Throughout his career, Matheson operated with the constant pressure of financial insecurity and the fear of being forgotten. He acknowledges that few actors, like Daniel Day-Lewis, possess the luxury of choosing to step away from the limelight. This relentless drive, fueled by both ambition and fear, is a defining characteristic of many individuals striving for success. emingly everyone on the left, and more than a few on the right express great comfort with tax increases largely directed at the rich. Matheson’s description of his up-and-down career, and the fact that what he describes is the norm for the vast majority of established stars, exists as a reminder that “rich” is very much a moving target in the entertainment space.Put another way,the fact that actors can be paid so well speaks loudly to how uncertain (and infrequent) the impressive pay is. Which raises the question of why we’re so eager to burn the triumphant with nosebleed tax rates. Not only does it shrink the investment without which there are no companies and no jobs in the first place, the income that politicians are most eager to tax has rather ephemeral qualities.Does Matheson talk about taxes? No, and it’s once again good that he didn’t. There’s too much politics in Hollywood. What hints does Matheson offer about his politics? Well, he’s a Marine, having served during a Vietnam War that he was luckily spared. Sadly, many weren’t spared the tragic conceit of politicians. Matheson is clear that his grandmother from Richmond was a big believer in freedom of speech and against racial discrimination. Matheson played JFK,but also Ronald Reagan,and notes about Reagan’s legacy in the book’s photos’ section that it “looms larger and larger as time goes on,and I hope I did his legacy proud.” Your reviewer’s honest guess is that Matheson is a libertarian, which those who read my writing will contend is me engaging in wishful thinking.
that’s probably true. As an admirer of Matheson, I find myself wanting to imagine he puts freedom of choice in all aspects of life at the highest of pedestals.All that, plus Cato Institute co-founder Ed Crane concedes now that reagan was basically a libertarian. All that, plus Matheson is good friends with Kurt Russell to this day, and Russell has long associated himself with Cato. He even threw a fundraiser for Crane et al long ago.
About Russell, Matheson writes that he “became the mentor and, in many ways, an older brother to me.” Matheson indicates that Russell knew how to act, but of arguably greater importance, he knew the movie business and conveyed the knowledge to Matheson. Plus he was loyal. When the PR team of a project the two were working on (The Quest) secured a cover story for Russell (the TV magazine for the Sunday Los Angeles Times), Russell made it clear that it was never to happen again, that nonetheless of Russell’s greater stature, the two were a team.
It turns out The Quest, like so much that’s created in Hollywood, only lasted a season. What’s high risk is high reward regardless of the business. If 90 percent of Silicon Valley start-ups fail, and do so quickly, something like 90 percent (or more) or Hollywood pilots never make it to series, let alone last. Matheson notes that The Quest’s problem was the arrival of Charlie’s Angels simultaneously occurring, though somewhere there’s a book or memoir revealing just how few Hollywood suits thought Charlie’s Angels had a chance. I’ll be quoting Matheson for a long time with his line about how “you rarely know it” when something will succeed or not.
So while Matheson brings excellent clarity to the truth that no one knows anything in entertainment or business more broadly, he very helpfully reminds actors (and workers broadly) that we can always control what we individually do while not controlling the likes and dislikes of consumers. What we do individually matters. Matheson writes that along with the actor bringing the character to the screen, “you are also bringing your own self to the job. How you treat the crew,the other actors,the staff. Everyone can come back to help you win a job in the future. Or can help you lose one. Work begets work.” Yes! Precisely as tomorrow is so different from today, so are the stars and business greats so different. It can’t hurt to be good. Matheson makes plain there are rewards to be had from it.
Some probably weren’t aware until the subtitle of Damn Glad to Meet You just how long Matheson’s career has been.He goes back as far as Leave It to Beaver. Not the lead then, Matheson writes that his relatively few lines meant he could “sit back in the shadows and slowly learn a craft.”
Despite being a relative unkown in the early days and beyond, Matheson was working with the big names. They included Bob Hope, Jackie Gleason, Debbie Reynolds, and even Lucille Ball. Ball explained to him that “if you really want to be a star, you have to act like a star.”
What’s significant is that Matheson wanted to be one, and of greater importance, never took it for granted. He was always looking for work.
Which brings to mind his relationship with his father. His parents divorced when Matheson and his older sister were still young, and it’s difficult to read about. As he recalls, “I was consumed by the unfairness of it all.” his mother was reduced to working all manner of jobs to support her two kids, while Matheson’s father moved to Phoenix.One guesses that Matheson had it easy growing up based on how brilliantly he filled the role of Otter, but he plainly didn’t.
It’s not just that his parents divorced, it’s that they drank. “The great depression and alcoholism were the other two members of our family,” while they had a family.
More specifically about Matheson’s father, his son writes at various times of how pessimistic his dad was. In his son’s words, he came out “a victim of the Great Depression.” My own speculation without knowing son or father is that the 1930s only partially explain what became of his father. There’s no doubt whatsoever relatively slow economic growth (the biggest economic downturns in the U.S. are boom times anywhere else) suffocates the talents of way too many people. Put another way, easily the greatest gift of booming economic growth borne of economic freedom is that exponentially more people get to showcase their unique skills and intelligence in the workplace.
Which brings me to my speculation. Difficult as Matheson’s relationship was with his father, and without minimizing the fights he had to cruelly witness as a child, it’s no insight to say that so many from Matheson’s era had difficult fathers like the one he had. Again,this is not meant to minimize what he endured. Rather, it’s an attempt to find optimism in what Matheson endured.
It’s a long way of saying that the biggest difference between so many fathers and sons then and now is that each new generation of sons (and daughters) has work options that the parents and grandparents of same
