Deadline Founder Nikki Finke Was Hollywood’s Ultimate Disruptor

Nikki Finke was terrifying.

When the late Hollywood reporter called — the phone was her weapon of choice — Hollywood’s most powerful players shuddered. That’s because she could write anything and there was no one to call if you didn’t like what she wrote. I learned this the hard way, even though we were friends over the years: we had lunch at Hugo’s, shared a storage unit, and spent hours together in his West Hollywood apartment, while I tried in vain to make him press “send”. his brilliant CAA chapter for Premiere Magazine, which was slated for two later issues but never aired.

His much-vaunted book was never published either, as the publishers hired co-authors to no avail; over the years, reports from Finke’s compelling agency eventually ended up on Deadline. And Finke participated (by phone) in a meeting in 2005 with David Poland, Jeffrey Wells and me about the possible launch of a website. Each of us saw the future of Hollywood coverage online – we knew print was going the way of the dinosaur – but we could never have worked together. Each of us has made our way online: Poland launched MovieCityNews, Wells launched Hollywood Elsewhere, Finke created LA Weekly’s Deadline Hollywood online column, and I launched The Hollywood Reporter’s first blog, Risky Biz. , inspired by my old LA Weekly column. Risky business. (When I left THR for Variety, they wouldn’t let me take it with me; thus, Thompson on Hollywood was born.)

This whole story was irrelevant when Finke called me. I was in my car on the highway and I answered the phone, stupidly, while she was shouting in my ear, which pissed me off. She yelled, “Did you write a quote without Ron Meyer’s permission?”

Finke’s modus operandi at Deadline — first at LA Weekly, then at the Deadline Hollywood Daily blog acquired in 2009 by Jay Penske (whose PMC owns IndieWire) — was carrying water for Hollywood powerhouses. They deployed her to pound their competition, feeding her nasty bites in hopes that if they gave her enough red meat, she would never turn against them.

In that case, I angered the Universal studio chief in my weekly Hollywood Reporter column about the 2006 defection of his loyal lieutenant Stacey Snider to join Steven Spielberg. Meyer was pissed off at his quote because he thought we had a strong relationship (we did) and I made him look weak. So he told Finke he was banning me from Universal Studios: no screenings, parties or meetings. If I was found at the studio, I would be escorted off the field. No studio chief, Finke reported breathlessly, had ever done this to a reporter before. She posted this at the top of her weekly column online and quickly went on vacation for several weeks. So he sat there at the top of his feed, with no new stories to replace him, until he came back. There was no one to call.

Robert Iger and Ron Meyer at the Academy Museum.

Anne Thompson

Everyone in Hollywood got the Finke treatment. She was a gifted journalist who easily impressed magazine and newspaper editors with her insider knowledge – she cultivated powerful players and was visibly pumped up when they called her back and took her seriously – but suffered from a big case. writer’s block. When I worked at Entertainment Weekly, staff members took bets on how long he would live (his brief tenure is not listed on his Wikipedia page). When I wrote a Hollywood column for New York magazine, the stories of editors trying to snatch copies from her hands were legendary. The word was that they had to copy the story on time while she read it over the phone.

But being in control of her own content at Deadline removed all her fears of exposure. Finke reveled in posting scoops and changed the way Hollywood does business, forever. The Hollywood trades were at a disadvantage: Variety and The Hollywood Reporter were still trapped in the vice of selling lucrative print ads. They hadn’t understood the speed of online reporting. In the old competitive push for celebrity casting and new project scoops, Deadline left THR and Variety in the dust.

Finke often broke the news herself, especially during the 2008 Writers Guild strike that made her daily must-read, but Deadline forged ahead in the scoop department in 2010. when Finke robbed Variety’s top reporter, Mike Fleming. He now runs the site with former THR TV editor Nellie Andreeva. (Ironically, Variety editor Peter Bart, who saw red every day during Finke’s reign of terror, now writes a Deadline column.)

Finke had a formidable set of tools. Unlike the trades, which still dealt with rewriting whatever press releases the studios and producers saw fit to print, no one told Finke what to write. There was no boss to threaten, no higher authority or boy’s club member to appeal to. Every studio, agency, guild, and producer had to bargain with Finke, who threatened and intimidated as effectively as any Hollywood mogul to get what she wanted. At the height of her powers, she was as powerful as any media monger since Walter Winchell (Burt Lancaster’s gossip columnist model in “Sweet Smell of Success”).

Snark was another asset. While we now accept the current post-Gawker social media landscape, when Finke threw snark, attitude, and opinion into his columns, it was new. Readers read the urgent “BREAKING NEWS!!!” by Finke. drama and wickedness without limits à la Anne Coulter. She gave a talk at the Academy about her ‘Oscar crisis’ as she snarled the Oscars broadcast live. During the 2008 Harvey Weinstein vs. Scott Rudin smash on “The Reader,” Finke released tons of insider emails that were leaked to him by interested parties. (Finke herself was thin-skinned and protected herself from misrepresentation by sending a threatening email to the boss of any suspected offender.)

Speed ​​was essential. Deadline’s editors quickly released all the news as fast as they could – in a raw, unedited state that other trades, with their layers of editors and print deadlines, would never accept – then tweaked the story afterwards. And Finke loved to proclaim his scoops: “TOLDJA!!”

But just as important as speed was volume. “I check on Nikki five times a day!” a publicist once told me. That’s because Finke was tireless, obsessively posting 24/7 until she inevitably collapsed from exhaustion. She was still challenging her health and out of shape when she left PMC in 2013. First, she tried to start her own blog again in 2014, but PMC persuaded her not to compete with Deadline, and in 2015 she created the Hollywood fiction website. Dementia.

While Deadline was more exciting to read with Finke than without her, it was also a happier place to work, and no one in Hollywood missed her calls. But Finke had hammered his rules to his staff, which carries on his legacy. Anthony d’Alessandro, for example, went from variety researcher to box office analyst at Thompson on Hollywood to Deadline; he readily admits that Finke made him the reporting ace he is today. But his legacy is felt throughout the entertainment journalism ecosystem, which has been forced to kick and scream in the fast-paced online future, from trades to established news outlets like the Los Angeles Times. .

With Nikki’s death, it’s time to remember that she – alone – destroyed traditional crafts. I was there when they laughed at her, every day, until their advertising model fell apart. I was there when the mists wouldn’t change. They screwed up. Still echoing today. You can see it.

– M Speier (@mspeier1) October 9, 2022

The recluse myth surrounding Finke was also fascinating to watch. She went out with her friends all the time, she told me. But she kept control of her photos. (Gawk once offered $1,000 for a picture of her.) When some people tried to get their hands on the rest of the photo shoot that yielded the only official portrait of Finke, I was told, Finke bought the rest of the session.

I will always regret that HBO chose in 2011 to pass Bill Condon and Cynthia Mort’s excellent pilot for “Tilda,” a series based on Finke to Diane Keaton. Of course, I represent a very small demo target: it was easy to identify with a heroine blogger. Finke has nothing to do with its development. Was HBO jumping on legal issues on the horizon?

Eventually, Finke ran out. She could have continued to write a column for Deadline after he left, but she wasn’t interested. Control was the key to Finke’s power. Without it, she’d be just another writer stuck on the deadline.

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