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Final Cut : Art, Money, and Ego in the Making of Heaven's Gate, the Film That Sank United Artists

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It was called a "runaway," and never has a term been more appropriate. In this case, it was a movie running millions of dollars over budget with an end nowhere in sight. The 1980 film "Heaven's Gate" has become synonymous with failure, its very name punned whenever big-budget productions flirt with disaster. Steven Bach's "Final Cut: Art, Money, and Ego in the Making of Heaven's Gate, the Film That Sank United Artists" gives a terrific blow-by-blow account of this gargantuan flop. A former producer at United Artist who suffered the ax after "Heaven's Gate," Bach penned this detailed tome a couple of years after fallout.

The book should be a fascinating account for film lovers. "Final Cut" details the history of United Artists and filmmaking in the 1970s - a truly golden era. At United Artists, Francis Ford Coppola premieres "Apocalypse Now," Woody Allen helms "Manhattan" and Martin Scorsese prepares "Raging Bull." But the man of the hour in 1978 is a quiet guy named Michael Cimino. He just won an Academy Award for directing "The Deer Hunter," and now he wants to make a western - a big, big western.

Bach accurately reveals the difficulties United Artists was going through at this time, losing several long-time executives who jump ship to form the Orion film company. Bach and company, wishing to re-establish United Artists as a major player, take on Cimino's western project. Cimino sets up shop in Montana, the location work a two-hour's drive from the nearest cement road. He ships an antique train across five states to the Montana wilds. He hires over 700 extras. He signs a cast of mainly unknowns including Kris Kristofferson, Christopher Walken, Isabelle Huppert, John Hurt and Sam Waterson. And he films only during the twilight hour, a period right before dusk so scenes will have a golden hue. But what terrifies United Artists most is Cimino is filming 50-60 takes per scene, and printing almost every take. Such obsession was unheard of.

As Bach reveals in "Final Cut," Cimino's western (now hovering around $25 million) was going to have make blockbuster numbers just to turn a profit, performing in the "Jaws" and "Star Wars" neighborhoods. United Artists attempts to fire Cimino, at one point even asking David Lean to take over. Cimino realizes the dire situation, finally bucks up and finishes the film. With promotional and post-production fees, "Heaven's Gate" cost United Artists $44 million - the most expensive film in history up to that time.

Heaven's Gate is premiered in New York, a three-and-a-half hour monstrosity that receives devastatingly bad reviews. It is eventually released to the theaters and makes $1.8 million. It is the biggest bomb in motion picture history (cue dead elephant hitting the cement). Heads roll at the studio, Cimino's career is finished and United Artists, a film company created by Charlie Chaplin, D.W. Griffith, Mary Pickford and Douglas Fairbanks, is purchased by MGM to disappear forever into the sunset.

Cimino's "Heaven's Gate" spelled the end of the free-spirited, amazingly creative decade of the 1970s. Producers and studios took the reins out of the hands of superstar directors (Coppola's "Apocalypse Now" ran a similar "Heaven's Gate" route, but he pulled success from the fires of disaster, perhaps inspiring this debacle as much as anything else). "Final Cut" is a tragedy exposing the end of a golden era of filmmaking and a once-great studio. It's as good as an Irwin Allen disaster film, and a lot cheaper.

Steven Bach's account of the "Heaven's Gate" fiasco has never been more relevant than now. With weed-like conglomerate corporate growth each day and the Dilbert-like stupidity spawned in most corporate environments, this book should serve as a lesson to many of us.

His compelling story of divided responsibility, group thinking and diluted control goes a long way to explaining the excesses of Cimino and the movie.

Bach writes beautifully and directly. He covers the machinations of the story from the corporate side only. I wished for more of the on-the-set stories - the book would have been improved with a few chapters by someone who witnessed the on-set story. One hilarious on-set story I heard about "Heaven's Gate" before reading this book described how the director needed more space in the street and wanted sets on both sides of the street destroyed and rebuilt 6 feet back. Someone suggested destroying and rebuilding one side only, 12 feet back, and saving half the cost. Cimino told him that it wouldn't have the same feel, and they commenced destroying and rebuilding the entire set! Although these sorts of on-set anecdotes aren't in the book, many other incredibly good ones from the management side are there.

The book describes the history of UA, the history of the skirmish the movie is based on, and the entire before, during and after of the film's development from the viewpoint of Transamerica and UA.

I read it cover to cover in just a few days, and laughed often. A great book!

Steven Bach is correct in using William Goldman's quote about Hollywood in his introduction ("No one knows anything."). What follows with Final Cut happens because the executives took that attitude to heart, and sometimes, for good reason.

Cimino maneuvered the UA executives, including Bach, into making a movie they didn't believe in because they didn't believe in their own judgement on the script. They didn't step in when the production got out of control beecause they didn't trust their own judgement on what was happening on location in Montana. They didn't demand a proper edit of the movie because they didn't believe they could find any other talent to solve the problem. They didn't pull the movie because they didn't trust what their eyes told them: the movie was awful.

The above paragraph is harsh, and there are examples upon examples of studio heads pulling the plug on what became magnificent movies. These examples, however, are like fortune-tellers proclaiming their successes when they get something right. The fortune-teller did get that one prediction right, but no one remembers the hundreds of times that the fortune-teller was wrong because no one points it out, especially the fortune-teller. In Hollywood, the talent doesn't want the failure pointed out, and the executives don't either since their jobs are on the line.

None of the above is a criticism of this book. In fact, it gives a wonderful insight into how disasters like "Heavan's Gate" can happen. It is written well, and I came away with a much better understanding of the process by which movies get made. It also gives insight into the difference between honest artists who sometimes fail (Woody Allen, Martin Scorcese) and poseurs who bluff their way into creating disasters (Cimino).

After reading this book I can honestly say that I was a bit dissapointed with the way the story unfolded. Personally I was expecting a book that was from the production perspective, why Heaven's Gate took so long to complete, what problems were encountered during production, what were the arguments that ensued between the director and crewmembers. What Steven Bach gives us though is a top level executive view of the workings of United Artists and of Heavens Gate. We see from a executive producers perspective why certain decisions were made, why Michael Cimono was given certain liberties, why so much money was poured into the production of this movie. What we don't see are the workings behind the scenes at the location of Heavens Gate. Bach checks in every once and a while during the book to see how things are progressing, but most of the book switches back and forth between keeping check on Heavens Gate and Bach's responsibilities at UA. While I did enjoy the book it was too "high level" for my tastes and too much centered on United Artists and not as much on the making of Heavens Gate. It would have been nice for Bach to get some more perspectives from people who were at the location to add some variety to the book.

This book, first published in the 1980s, is a classic textbook example of why Hollywood so often pours tens of millions of dollars into projects that ultimately go haywire. In this book, Bach, who as production head had information and sources only an insider could have, shows how a director, Michael Cimino, was given a virtual blank check on making a film United Artists hoped would duplicate the success of his Oscar-winning film, "The Deer Hunter." This new project was based on a script Cimino had written, called "The Johnson County War." It was based on an obscure event in 19th century Wyoming, but the moguls were impressed enough with the script to go forward with it.

It wasn't long, though, before the project went awry. Bach provides the reader with many, many reasons why this was so. There was plenty of blame to go around, though certainly director Cimino deserves a large share of the blame. He reminds the reader of another self-destructive director, Erich von Stroheim, in that he couldn't stay within a budget and was obsessed with detail. Millions and millions of dollars were thrown into this project, now called "Heaven's Gate." By the time the film was released in 1980, it had become the biggest bomb in Hollywood since the 1963 flop "Cleopatra." It helped sink United Artists. Not surprisingly, Cimino has yet to duplicate the success of "The Deer Hunter."

Bach is an excellent writer, and the book makes one almost nostalgic for the days of the old studio system of pre-1960s Hollywood.

This is one of the finest books ever written about the movie business. Bach explains, step by step, why he and the other UA execs did the things they did, and the disaster that unfolded. He's honest about his own failings, but at every step, as he outlines the choices available, you realise that - in his place and without the benefit of hindsight - you'd probably make the same mistakes. It's fascinating.

Of course, with the benefit of hindsight, it's easy to see the experience as a kind of horror movie. Each time UA concedes a point to Cimino, you feel like yelling "Don't go in the cellar!" (or, in this case, "Don't cast Isabelle Huppert!"). Of course, down they go into the cellar, where there are even more zombies lurking. The high point is the part where Cimino demands the installation of an irrigation system to ensure the grass looks properly green - but of course it's his land!

I have read this book several times since it was first published, and lent my copy to at least a dozen people who are also in the business. Everyone I know who knows anything about moviemaking has loved it.

This is a book I can't put down once I start reading it, and I re-read it every few years. It starts when a new management team takes over United Artists. They have to put together a slate of films. "Heaven's Gate" is one of their choices, and we see how this film moves from one choice among many to the behemoth that wrecks the studio. Contrary to some of the reviewers who say the book doesn't get to "Heaven's Gate" soon enough, I think the book is well-structured.

I also like the way Bach displays three different directors: Cimino, Scorsese and Woody Allen. Cimino is obviously the egomaniac out of control. Allen comes across as the "good director," always conscious that he is working with somebody else's money. Scorsese comes out between the two extremes.

Hey, if this book were only about "Heaven's Gate," I wouldn't like it so much, but we also get some insight into "Manhattan" and "Raging Bull," two much better movies.

Wanna detailed blow-by-blow account of the behind-the-scenes business machinations surrounding the production of a big-budget (and bank-breaking) movie at a major Hollywood studio? Look no further than this book!

Perhaps "surrounding" isn't the appropriate term since author Steven Bach, who was head of production at United Artists during the time immediately preceding the original publication of this book (its original title was Final Cut: Dreams and Disaster in the Making of Heaven's Gate), really couldn't get his hands around the major film project which was writer/director Michael Cimino's Heaven's Gate.

Following the lengthy but fascinating back history of United Artists, Bach presents a matter-of-fact but truly stomach-churning description of how the elusive sense of creative unity in the sincere quest for timeless cinematic art butts heads with the realities of capitalism. Though he rarely dwells on it as such, Bach gives the reader a visceral sense of the ulcer-inducing frustrations that can befall such a project.

How is it possible that a film's original budget can balloon so exponentially without a clear sense of the market's need or want for such a project? How is it possible that financial disaster can be predicated on the faith afforded in the talents of a single man whose reputation rests solely on a single well-received film? You'll find out by reading this book.

It's perhaps too easy to make Michael Cimino the fall guy in this scenario; there were plenty of corporate politics apart from the Heaven's Gate project, and which Bach thoroughly delineates, which "might" have been circumstantially responsible for UA's downfall. But what Bach rightfully chooses to focus on is that area for which he was ultimately responsible. It's painfully obvious that Cimino's exploits on location in Montana were "allowed" to get out of hand. It was Cimino who formulated the original budget and made certain assurances. It was Cimino who built, destroyed, then rebuilt a large exterior set of late 19th century Casper, Wyoming. It was Cimino who chose to print upwards of fifty takes of scenes. It was Cimino who promised a roughly two-and-a-half hour film that eventually came in at over five hours. These are personal shortcomings which are simply impossible to overlook...up-and-coming Academy Award-winning cinematic genius or not.

Granted, Cimino's own account of the happenings on location are not to be found here. Bach does, however, give accounts of the many meetings and conversations he, the producer, and Cimino had during the entire gut-wrenching process. Perhaps one day Cimino will bravely come forward and explain, in writing or in film, his personal culpability and reasoning. That his career in Hollywood took a downward spiral following this escapade is most unfortunate--he is obviously a director with talent and a vision.

It's well known and understood that in the world of entertainment, luck and timing can count for an inordinate amount toward success or failure. Indeed, success and failure can only be quantified in ways which are hardly tangible apart from dollars and cents. From Bach's account, it's plain to see that with a little judiciousness on the part of many important decision-making people, this financial disaster need not have occurred.

I can't imagine a better read than Final Cut if one wants a detailed dissection of torment in the pursuit of corporate American art.

"Heaven's Gate" is a film that cannot be rented at your local Blockbuster, at least not at mine. I've tried. However, I once caught a glimpse of what I presumed to be the film one afternoon while channel-surfing in search of a golf championship. I watched an effusive Kris Kristofferson burst into a mountain shack, seeking the embrace of an unfamiliar but radiant actress whom I now know to be Isabelle Huppert. I didn't linger to watch the rest of the film, but wish I had; such is the power of this film's infamy. That glimpse I saw made me curious; it told be very little about why this film had been such a magnificent failure. With no immediate means of seeing the whole film, I searched out Steven Bach's book on the making of the film. Ambitious and costly fiascos produced by committees generally have complex reasons for failure and many areas to assign blame, so I expected a compelling portrait of a corporate structure with many and varied weaknesses.

Instead, the story is a relatively simple one, one that could have been told in many fewer pages than this book. Perhaps even a pamphlet would suffice. A troika of production executives at United Artists, in the wake of the departure of a legendary and trusted power structure disenchanted with the indifferent corporate ownership, searches for properties that will retain the credibility of the organization in Hollywood. They seize upon the nearest cinematic prize at hand, director Michael Cimino, newly awarded the 1979 Oscar for Best Picture.

What they are strangely unprepared for is the arrogance of Cimino, who muscles a contract chock-full of loopholes past the executives, then proceeds to go on an unchecked spending spree on location in Montana, shooting hours and hours of takes and running up massive overtime expenditures for cast and crew. Seeking periodically to curb the spending, the hapless executives seem at a loss as to how to handle the stonewalling and sullen Cimino, and grimly resolve to ride out the ordeal to the bitter end, hoping beyond hope that the film will somehow succeed.

The story is not a dynamic one; the only real participants in the conflict seem to be the executives and Cimino, and the results seem pretty one-sided. Bach tries to enliven the story, both with an exhaustive history of United Artists at the beginning of the book, and with somewhat distracting anecdotes involving other films he is involved with at the time "Gate" is bleeding the budget dry. Perhaps it is to show us how badly he needed such distractions at the time.

The big mystery of the book is the goings-on on the set, none of which is given in any detail. It is mentioned that Cimino (understandably) would have nothing to do with this book; perhaps another source on the set should have been consulted for this writing. Without any account whatsoever of the actual making of the film, its unchecked growth seems a monolithic constant, failing to add needed interest to the story.

Of some interest is Bach's account of his first screening of the five and one-half hour version of the film, in which he at last gives the reader some idea of the film's poor quality: it's unchecked excess of visual spectacle. Bach gives a brief but compelling picture of the dawning horror he experiences when the film begins to numb his senses, and his posterior.

Bach notably fails to examine his own role in the failure of the film: though he acknowledges that role ( and reaps the consequences) , one gets no sense of inner conflict in his dealings with Cimino. One is left to assume that Cimino simply intimidates him.

Ultimately the fascination of the "Heaven's Gate" fiasco remains intriguing, ( and the film itself elusive ), but with this particular account, the true story must be read between the lines.

So much has been written about Michael Cimino's "Heaven's Gate" that few people recall the film itself: a bloated, aimless, wandering and unfocused epic about the Johnson County "war" of the late eighteen hundreds. The book's story of wretched excess, greed, artistic ambition run amok and misguided faith in that ambition mirrors the story of the making of Fox's "Cleopatra" in 1961. Though "Heaven's Gate" has a devoted cult following today, such admiration is common to reviled works: people have a tendency to champion projects that "nobody else got" because it makes them feel elevated from the common wisdom, or a part of an exclusive culture of appreciation. Sadly, Cimino's film doesn't warrant such revisionist thinking. The book explains in excruciating detail the process by which a small, personal project became one of the grandest flops in the history of Hollywood. Equally culpable in this fiasco are the men and women who allowed this director to squander the millions spent, even after it became apparent that the film was a disappointment by the kindest standards. Far from being a lost opportunity (the story of the Johnson County war has been done several times, in films like "Shane") "Heaven's Gate" is probably the best known example of the kind of apalling waste that drove the film industry into the sad state it has fallen to. The author accepts his share of the blame, and is astonishingly fair to Cimino, defending the director's vision, his decisions, and his intentions. But the end result (known to every film buff) hangs over the proceedings like grim death.