It's not too often that the taut and tanned Hollywood set gets a chance to smackdown the pasty New York media circuit, but leave it to LA Weekly's Hollywood writer Nikki Finke to make it happen. Someone's leaked an email fray between hellcat Finke and an unassuming, unnamed GQ Editor, and I just started twitching uncontrollably. So many LA flashbacks before breakfast! Sample some serious bitch-slappery after the jump.
Subject: LA story
Date: Tue, 17 Aug 2004
To: Nikki Finke
You may not remember me [...] I've now landed at GQ, and something came up in a meeting earlier today that I thought I should give you a heads up about. We were talking about a L.A. story in our upcoming September issue, a fairly intense, anonymous as-told-to by a Hollywood agent that's all about how he poaches other agency's clients. I thought it might be something you'd want to see early, and if you're at all interested, I can have Nora Haynes, the publicist working on the story, give you a call and run through the particulars. It's fairly juicy stuff, might give you a nice item for a column....
Subject: Re: LA story
Date: 8/17/2004 3:13:52 PM Pacific Daylight Time
From: Nikki Finke
I fear I totally scared off your poor publicist. Because as she told me what she was calling about, I began to rail rather mercilessly about what-the-f*ck has happened to magazines like GQ and others who purport to cover the entertainment business. I've seen VF totally abandon any responsibility, The New Yorker covers it from an apartment in Brooklyn. And now this. You think having an unnamed Hollywood agent talking about poaching unnamed clients is a "get"? I have 300 interviews with real live Hollywood agents ON THE RECORD talking all about stealing clients and naming names, dates, places, etc. not to mention a whole bunch of even juicier stuff. But do you people ever think to actually call me to do an article for you? Noooooooooooooooooooooo....
Because I'm not 24 years old...
Because I'm not making up stuff.
Because I don't live in New York.
Because I don't kiss up to the idiots who decide which stars magazines like GQ can and can't put on their covers.
Because I actually know something about Hollywood.
Here's a thought: Why not ask me to put together the juiciest Hollywood stories I know for your magazine. Oh, you're running late for lunch at Michael's?
How come I'm not surprised.
Subject: RE: LA story
Date: Tue, 17 Aug 2004 18:58:01 -0400
To: Nikki Finke
Wow, what a peculiarly overwrought reaction to a simple gesture. I have no problem with your turning down our idea, but there's no reason to get in a huff about it. We're all professionals.
Or are we? Your insulting response makes me wonder. [...] Despite whatever experiences gave you your impressions of GQ, your caricature of what goes on in this office is sadly off the mark. More to the point, I find it extremely off-putting that you'd refer to me as "you people" and tar me with some ridiculous stereotype when you don't even know me. That's just intolerable.
Who knows, perhaps we could have worked on a feature together. But then I doubt that you'd ever want to write for GQ, given the sneering tone of your e-mail. [...]
Let's just forget that I ever contacted you, ok? You go your way, I'll go mine.
Subject: Re: LA Story
Date: Tue, 17 Aug 2004 19:26:27 EDT
From: Nikki Finke
You clearly think the best defense is a good offense.
You dare insult me personally?
I insulted an article, and the way NYC magazines find their writers and their article subjects, not you personally. [...]
As for GQ, a once mildly interesting magazine has been dumbed down to the point of idiocy, yet it still thinks it reinvented the wheel. As for Hollywood coverage, it was bad enough GQ always hired toadies who heaped lavish praise on those people least deserving of lavish praise. Now this agent piece is considered journalism.
Too bad you're so busy insulting me that you can't even engage in an interesting discussion about what GQ should be covering, and why, and in what way. That was the point of my email. To provoke editorial worthy of wrapping around a Huge Boss ad. Right now, the clothes are a lot better than the words in GQ. Sad.