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WHY is
Tinseltown such a big, happy family? Every mogul is a
fine upstanding citizen, and every diva is really Mother
Teresa? Hmmmm. Confidentiality agreement, anyone? You
know, those useful contracts that everybody in show biz
uses to protect their laundry, dirty or not. They’re up
there with prenups as one of Hollywood’s most ubiquitous
legal agreements with studios, stars and increasingly
just any part of the celebrity-entertainment apparatus
demanding them.
The true
nature of confidentiality agreements has always
perplexed me. Are they rightly protecting the rich from
avaricious gold-diggers, or are they simply a license to
behave badly, a permanent threat against the lowly? I
imagine many drivers, nannies, cooks and cleaners (and
decorators and pool men) don’t read the fine print
carefully before they sign, let alone send it over to
their lawyers for perusal.
Let’s
face it, in much of
Hollywood,
what’s at stake is not really trade secrets (or
potentially hazardous products). It’s just reputations
and conceivably the true and accurate history of public,
culturally significant figures. You can’t sell a baby in
this country or an organ or your vote, but free speech
always has a price tag.
“Such
contracts are enforceable,” notes First Amendment
specialist and Prof. Eugene Volokh of UCLA School of
Law, although he adds, “None of the agreements can stand
up in the face of a subpoena, if there is litigation.”
So if a
celebrity does something illegal, all bets are off.
You’re allowed to go to the authorities if you’re
attacked or sexually harassed by a mega-movie star, but
“if you learned this person has really unpleasant ideas
or says racist or anti-Semitic things, can you go and
talk about it on a weblog? No,” says Volokh. “The whole
point of the contract was to allow this person to talk
freely, that the things they say are not going to be
revealed to the world at large.”
“They’re
legally binding agreements,” says lawyer Larry Stein.
“If properly prepared and executed and as part of a work
environment, they can be extremely effective. They’re
not a violation of the First Amendment. It’s not a
private gag order. It’s a contractual arrangement
between two parties.”
Nightmare case
Rob Lowe’s current battle with two of his former
nannies is a nightmare version of what can happen when
the love sours between celebrities and their paid
acolytes. (Stein happens to represent the Lowe family
but declines to talk specifically about the case, as do
both of the Lowes. The nannies have also refused to
comment, though their lawyer, Gloria Allred, was happy
to weigh in.)
I have
to admit I always liked the freakishly handsome star—and
definitely thought The West Wing went down the
tubes after he left it. But I wondered if he cut off his
nose to spite his face when he published an angry and
self-righteous
tirade on the Huffington Post, saying, “a former
employee is demanding my wife Sheryl and I pay her $1.5
million by the end of the week or she will accuse us
both of a vicious laundry list of false terribles. It is
an attempt to damage and humiliate not only my wife and
me, but our two young sons, as well.” He added that he
wasn’t going to pay her “‘Hush money’ to just go
away....No one intimidates my family.”
According to Allred, who now represents the nannies,
Jessica Gibson and Laura Boyce: “It appears that an
attorney for Miss Gibson communicated to an attorney for
Mr. Lowe that she was making a claim of sexual
harassment against Mr. Lowe in an attempt to resolve
this matter.
“Now
rather than the claim being resolved, as often claims
are, prior to any litigation, it appears that Mr. Lowe
chose through his attorney to wage what’s called in the
media a preemptive strike by filing a lawsuit against
her and Ms. Boyce” before the nannies could file their
claims.
Interestingly enough, Lowe did not sue Gibson for
extortion but for allegedly breaking her confidentiality
agreement and nine other alleged misdeeds. Gibson
countersued, accusing the star of groping her and
exposing himself to her—accusations he denied. She’s
also upgraded her legal representation to media star
Allred, a far more formidable opponent than her original
attorney, John Richards, who’d been sentenced to jail
for a couple of days for not paying child support.
(Richards declined to confirm, deny or comment,
referring all inquiries to Allred.)
Admittedly Gibson hasn’t helped her case by working on
and off for the Lowes for seven years—weird behavior if
she’d been harassed. When she quit the last time, she
sent them loving texts saying things like “Sheryl, I am
really sorry. I have nothing bad to say about your
family and really am thankful for what you guys have
done for me over the years.” Also, during her appearance
on Today, Gibson appeared giddy with all the
media
attention.
According to a person in the Lowe camp, nanny No. 2,
Boyce, was going to settle with the Lowes but then she,
too, wound up being represented by Allred. In contrast
to Gibson, Boyce sobbed through her news conference and
appeared traumatized—although it’s hard to know whether
it was because of the alleged sexual harassment or
because she’s found herself the target of a legal
fusillade and media meltdown.
Home
workers
Boyce’s
claims don’t target Rob Lowe at all but focus on Sheryl
Lowe for such off-putting behavior as walking around
naked—in her own home—and making “numerous sexually
crude, lascivious and racially derogatory comments,”
which led Boyce to quit her job. Sheryl Lowe has denied
the
allegations.
“The
home is a workplace for the people who are working in
it—the nannies, the chefs, the drivers,” says Allred.
“Celebrity employers do not have special rights. They
are not insulated from liability because they are in
their home. Celebrities are not above the law. They
don’t have license to commit sexual harassment because
it’s in their home.”
And so
the mud keeps flying.
I wonder
if Rob Lowe ever regrets using his nuclear arsenal to
squash a fly. It’s not like he’s going to win a bunch of
moola from these women who were making $18 an hour. And
no matter how righteous his suit might turn out to be,
was it worth sending his family’s life through the
public glare, helping to publicize ugly claims that
might wind up totally refuted but never completely fade?
And just having to deal with all the rigamarole of
lawsuits—life’s too short.
I can’t
imagine that every party to this nasty legal brawl
wishes there wasn’t some deus ex machina figure who’d
come down from the heavens and quickly make it all go
away. Maybe a nice therapist-fairy godmother, in Harari
print dresses and low-slung pumps who’d help with anger
issues.
Or,
where’s Anthony Pellicano when you need him?
I’m not
advocating for a return of the gumshoe, now convicted of
76 counts of racketeering and wiretapping, but he
definitely had a well-defined spot in the Hollywood food
chain—fixer, interlocutor between celebrities and the
populace, the man to call when your one-night stand,
your nanny, your personal assistant, your housekeeper,
yoga instructor, chakra cleanser, what-have-you decides
to sue for slights real and imagined. Or decides to sell
your intimate secrets to Us magazine and the tabloids.
Obviously Pellicano was a bully, ready to smear the less
powerful with impunity. But there could be a cool
efficiency to how he operated. During his recent trial,
out came testimony about a college student who was
impregnated by a rich financial type. Pellicano arranged
for her abortion, drove her to the clinic and handed her
a $120,000 check when it was over.
Unpleasant, yes, but more unpleasant than a protracted
lawsuit, where all the combatants end up covered in
slime?
I’m not
so sure.
Or maybe
there’s an even simpler solution, a time-honored
principle used for centuries—everyone could simply turn
the other cheek. |
