![]() |
||||||
| Feature | ||||||
| Reel Risks
Elizabeth Harris 11/01/2007 |
||||||
On a stage in Manhattan, Francis Ford Coppola leans over a wooden carton and gets ready to do some magic. From the seemingly empty box, he suddenly pulls out a bottle of wine, an enormous pencil, a director’s megaphone and a movie reel. "Eat your heart out, David Copperfield," he says. They are props that represent his various businesses—from vineyards to the literary magazine Zoetrope: All-Story. The audience applauds. It isn’t The Godfather, but it is a sign that, despite years of working behind the scenes, Coppola still knows how to put on a show.
It surely will this time. After years of financial strug-gle, the profits that Coppola’s privately held companies generate are sufficient to grant him a rare chance at artistic carte blanche. The result: Youth Without Youth, starring Tim Roth and costing Coppola just under $17 million to make, is due in theaters this fall. Meanwhile, Coppola begins filming Tetro in Buenos Aires on a similar budget. He says that this is what he has always wanted: the freedom to make films the way he wants, without compromise, without the Hollywood execs, without Hollywood anything. His money, his risk, his way. "Miraculously, I almost have to pinch myself to see if it’s really true, I seem now to be in that position to do it."
Things were different on One From the Heart. When the film went over budget, Coppola again guaranteed it personally, putting his family’s assets on the line. The film, released in 1981, never recouped its costs. Combined with other commercial duds, Coppola and his company, Zoetrope Productions, filed for bankruptcy protection in 1990. In retrospect, he realizes his mistake in tying personal assets to business finances, rather than limiting liability and protecting his family assets from potential business losses in the way he structured his company. Instead, he negotiated a plan to repay the debts over the next 12 years and accepted commercial gigs ranging from The Outsiders to Peggy Sue Got Married. "That was definitely a low point, but I was still relatively young and I had a lot of confidence. I still had a film career I could turn to and make, albeit movies I was hired to do as opposed to some of my dream projects. But it was, I felt, the honorable thing to pay off that debt, which I did," he says. "It definitely made things around the house a little tough, because I had never been sophisticated in setting things up as separate companies. So if we were in a financial quagmire, that included the grocery account, too—not that we ever starved, but it definitely cast a shadow over those years." During that lean period, Coppola
began making wine. In 1975, he and his wife, Eleanor, bought the legendary
California vineyard Inglenook in Napa Valley. They acquired the 1,560-acre
property and used it as a summer retreat. Originally, Coppola had a more modest
home in mind than the estate that Gustave Niebaum built in the 1880s, planted
with 125 acres of Cabernet grapes and located in the prized Rutherford
winemaking region. But the land, the grapes and the history drew him in. Growing
up on Long Island in the 1940s and ’50s, Coppola always intended to make some
homemade wine. The stories his uncles and father told about how Italian families
made wine during Prohibition fascinated him. They brought over California
grapes, allotting a share to each patriarch for table wine. As always, he went
with his gut. "I’m the opposite of what you would call uptight," he says. "I
don’t worry about decisions. I make quick decisions if they feel right to
me."
"I never thought anything of it really becoming a business," Coppola says. "It had 100 acres of these very fine grapes that had once been part of that Inglenook tradition, and everybody wanted to buy them and have contracts for them. And at one point, I said, ‘Well, gee, if everybody thinks these grapes are so good, why don’t we make wine ourselves?’" While the company has never disclosed the number of cases of wine produced, it generated an estimated 800,000 cases in U.S. sales in 2006 and ranked 18th among U.S. wine companies, according to Wine Business Monthly. The Coppolas bought adjoining property as it came up for sale to reunite the former Inglenook land. In 1995, they acquired an additional 94 acres and a chateau. They built the winery and reintroduced wine-making to the Inglenook property in 2002. The following year, they created a 16,000-square-foot wine cave. However, as the company expanded, Coppola became concerned that his range of interests might overpower the brand. For example, he worried that he might confuse buyers by keeping his premium wine, selling for more than $100 a bottle, and his more popular wines, the least expensive priced at $10 a bottle, under the same label. He also wanted the flexibility to experiment with new ideas—like wine in self-sealed individual glasses, perfect for picnics or for selling at sports stadiums, he believes. Coppola struggled with the notion of keeping his name on the prized Inglenook wine, originally wanting to maintain the Niebaum-Coppola identity. But in January 2006, he split the business into two separate companies. And while he found it difficult, he thought it was the right decision to remove his name and simply call it Rubicon Estate to distinguish the premium wines. Now, Francis Coppola Presents encompasses the more popular wines, as well as the other businesses, such as Mammarella foods, his international luxury resorts like Blancaneaux Lodge and Turtle Inn in Belize and restaurants in San Francisco and Palo Alto. "The wines are good quality and there has been supreme effort made to improve on the labels over time," says Peter Meltzer, the auction correspondent for Wine Spectator and author of Keys to the Cellar: Strategies and Secrets of Wine Collecting. While the Coppola wines have not yet reached the status of California cult wines like Harlan Estate or Screaming Eagle, this wasn’t just a vanity investment, Meltzer says. "They’re really serious." And demand is growing for Rubicon vintages at auction; recent prices include a 1987 fetching $69 a bottle and a 1994 hitting $94. Ironically, as Coppola returns to filmmaking, his wine industry contacts question why films are distracting him from wine-making. In the beginning, Coppola recalls his filmmaking friends believed he wasted his talent with wine. "They really did say, ‘Francis, you’re a filmmaker. You made one of the most successful movies ever made. Why are you fooling around with this wine company? Get out of that and put all your energy into film,’" he remembers. But Coppola did not plan on a decade-long break from film. His
last picture, The
Rainmaker, was released in 1997. Indeed, he
struggled, ultimately unsuccessfully, to make Megalopolis, a
film set in New York about a master builder searching for
utopia. "I hadn’t made a film for 10 years until this last year, but that wasn’t
because of the other business, but more because of a big, big dream project I
had been trying to work on that took all my effort. Ultimately, I wasn’t able to
pull it off," he says. "But it’s true that during that period, I did put this
excess creative energy into other projects." "It’s an experimental film, so the risk is there at the outset,
but it’s a story that Francis wanted to tell about aging and about missed
opportunity and romance," Tim Roth, the star of the film, says. Before filming,
Coppola met Roth where he was working in Siena, Italy, and talked about the
story—how when you look back over your life, you have regrets, and this is a
story of a man who blew it and gets another chance. This personal story
resonated for Roth as well. He had wanted to appear in a Coppola movie since he
was a teenager; 20 years earlier he had written Coppola a letter asking if he
would cast him in a movie. While auditioning for another Coppola film in the
’90s, the director pulled out the letter. "I asked him if I could have it and he
wouldn’t let me," Roth says. "He put it back in his bag." |