In pursuit of flawed moguls
Barry Avrich knows that some people who see Show Stopper, his documentary about the rise and fall of Garth Drabinsky, will say he was too soft on the convicted showman, while others will say he was too hard on him.
“I’m not a judge,” says Avrich, a workaholic who makes films on the side while running a major marketing company. “I made this film, and other films, for one reason: to let the audience debate the merits, myths and flaws of an extraordinary character.”
When people go to jail, he says, they are seen in a one-dimensional way. But Drabinsky needs to be appraised for the work that he did as well as for what he was charged with, according to Avrich.
What fascinated the audience at the TIFF premiere of Show Stop
per is the contrast between Drabinsky’s spectacular achievements and the ruthless scheming that brought down his empire and landed him in jail, convicted of fraud. The film, opening Friday at the Varsity, shows both sides: master showman and desperate bookscooker.
Last week’s world premiere at TIFF Bell Lightbox had a special electricity as an event, for two reasons.
One: unlike most movies screened at the festival, this wasn’t about a drama unfolding somewhere else but a riveting tale about Toronto showbiz.
“It happened in our own backyard,” says Avrich, “and everyone I know has a Garth story.”
Two: the audience included strong contingents of both Drabinsky’s staunch allies, who say on balance he did much more good than harm, and his detractors, who point to a small army of victims.
The crowd included big names from Broadway (Elaine Stritch, James Earl Jones), the Toronto cultural world (Albert Schultz, Aubrey Dan), the business world (Isadore Sharp) and politics (David Peterson).
The way the film is constructed — with clips featuring more than a score of players and observers (including me) — there’s plenty of material to support both sides of the argument.
Avrich aims for truth, controversy and balance, constructing the pieces like a Rubik’s cube.
My spin: no amount of success was enough to satisfy Drabinsky’s need for glory. A compulsive gambler, he was driven to take insane risks. He had a perverse need to be hanging by his fingernails from the edge of a cliff.
For Avrich, this film is the latest in a series about a certain class of operators.
“I have spent the last 25 years making films that chronicle the often perverse but always thrilling careers of the megalomaniac titans that play larger-than-life roles in show business.” Previous subjects: Hollywood mogul Lew Wasserman, rock concert king Michael Cohl and Miramax founder Harvey Weinstein. Half-jokingly referring to himself as “a mogul muckraker,” Avrich says making films about controversial subjects is “like walking on broken glass — painful, bloody and exhilarating.” In the course of making these documentaries, he has been tailed, berated and threatened with bodily harm. He has ignored the dangers of litigation and career suicide. He’s not sure what compels him to keep pursuing these dangerous characters. “It could be their Faustian exercise of power or their frequent Shakespearean falls from grace.” Of Unauthorized, his film about Weinstein, Avrich says: “It left me black and blue.” Weinstein did everything possible to make the film disappear in the U.S., making sure it was bought by a distributor willing to shelve it. Already, Avrich is moving on to his next subject: Penthouse founder Bob Guccione. Meanwhile, Drabinsky — still in prison, and without seeing the film — has managed to convey his displeasure about its release. But according to Avrich, moguls secretly love to be immortalized, even if that entails having their flaws exposed. The big question remains unanswered. Will there be a third act to Drabinsky’s career when he is released from jail? If there is, one thing is certain: It won’t be boring. mknelman@thestar.ca