"Michael, we appear to have a major problem with our IT systems," he said. "All of our email systems are down." As he went on to explain that most of the company's computers appeared to be "fried," I just listened and drove a little faster to work.
By the time I walked into the Thalberg Building, I sensed that Sony had a very big problem. I found Hendler and Sony's head of IT: grown men, experts in their fields, veterans who did not get flustered. Ever. Except now. They looked scared and confused.
The head of IT reported that 70% of Sony's servers were irreparably damaged. Sony could not make, edit or release movies, use its email or access its financial records or production systems. Over the next few days and weeks the situation only worsened as the hackers released stolen emails that revealed terrible judgment, confidential scripts and personal information -- including my family's.
Almost immediately the FBI opened an investigation, and evidence suggested that the North Korean government likely led this attack as retribution and to quash the release of a film called "The Interview," a Seth Rogen comedy about a bunch of journalists who make a screwball plan to assassinate the leader of North Korea, Kim Jong Un.
Eight months later, after it became clear that the North Koreans had hacked Sony, and after the studio had lost its relationships with many of its most important stars -- including Will Smith, Adam Sandler and Angelina Jolie -- I spoke to President Obama about the whole incident. Unsurprisingly, he asked the right question: "What were you thinking when you made killing the leader of a hostile foreign nation a plot point? Of course that was a mistake."
The mistake? My decision to greenlight a project on the fly.
The kid from Wassenaar
Before I explain how that decision got made and why it went so spectacularly off the rails, you need to know something about the sort of person I was before I arrived in Hollywood.
When I was 9, my parents moved from Scarsdale, N.Y., to Wassenaar, Holland. I did not speak the language and felt desperate to make friends. I fell in with a nerdy set—a small group of academically minded boys who carried their books in briefcases. We never got invited to parties. I can remember hearing loud music on a Saturday night from a neighboring house and knowing that many of my classmates were having fun without me.
I found solace at the movies. Wassenaar's tiny theater managed to obtain all the current releases, and as I watched from a folding chair, I fell in love with the glamour and developed a secret, unexpressed ambition to be a part of that world.
It took me a while to make it, but after stops at Penguin, Hollywood Pictures and AOL, Howard Stringer, the CEO of Sony, called to offer me the job of running Sony Studios.
Suddenly, my family had instant access to the hottest restaurants, invitations to the coolest parties and openings, great seats at the Oscars and Golden Globes. It felt as if that kid from Wassenaar had finally arrived. Or had I? There is always another velvet rope in Hollywood. No matter how exclusive the party, there's always a pecking order, and the coolest people -- the actors -- hang out in a room that's off-limits.
I once went to the home of Bryan Lourd, a powerful CAA agent, for his annual Oscar party. Daniel Craig, Leonardo DiCaprio and Sandra Bullock were all having a great time -- drinking, laughing, singing. George Clooney, Brad Pitt and Matt Damon stood in a tight circle, talking. I had seen Clooney at the studio that week and went up to join the conversation. While polite, they made clear that I simply did not belong. I was at the top of the heap in the movie business and still felt that I was watching from a folding chair in Wassenaar.
Perhaps that's what left me so vulnerable and explains why, when I found myself deciding on a Seth Rogen project, I made the biggest mistake of my career.
A fast-track table read
It's important to understand that Rogen had an existing relationship with Universal Studios, which caused a competitive situation when Sony began releasing his films. Both studios vied for his attention, time and output.
Two other factors complicated the situation. First, Amy Pascal, my co-chairperson at Sony, and Stacey Snider, the chairwoman at Universal Studios, while friends, had a 20-year rivalry. Second, Rogen felt that he had to make each movie more and more outrageous to keep his audience engaged. So when either Stacey or Amy refused to greenlight a film because it was too offensive, the other agreed to make it. And guess what? It was inevitably a hit.
Sony found itself in the difficult position of not being able to say no, and Rogen found himself in the enviable position of getting approval for almost anything that he chose to present.
And so we requested a table read of "The Interview." If Seth wanted a fast decision -- to short-circuit the deliberative process through which the company made most decisions -- we wanted to hear the cast read the script.
Walking into the room, I immediately felt energized and simultaneously completely out of place. Although middle-aged, I had not lost the observational skills I'd learned in middle school: I could quickly identify the cool kids and the ones eager for their approval.
The actors wore T-shirts and jeans. Amy Pascal, the head of the studio, dressed casually in a green suede leather jacket, jeans and fur-lined clogs. The rest of the studio's production executives wore lower-budget versions of Amy's elegant attire. Me? I wore the same thing I did every day: a dark gray suit and a white shirt.
I spotted Rogen sharing a joint with Franco in the corner. Rogen had a reputation as a smoker, but this time he may have needed a bit extra to calm his nerves. Everyone seemed jumpy. They all knew the stakes. I was the "suit" in a room full of talent and needed to decide that day whether Sony would back Rogen and Franco on their next great adventure.
I knew that what reads funny on the page does not always read funny in the room. Laughter would determine whether we committed tens of millions of dollars and months of their lives to the project.
As soon as the actors started reading, their collective nervousness disappeared. They were hilarious. Rogen and Franco ad-libbed, drew out the best in their fellow actors and made the rest of the room feel as if they were part of their joyous adventure.
When the reading was over, Amy jumped up and said, "Let's make this!"
I threw out all of our normal, careful approval processes and found myself agreeing. We rushed into the decision giddy about the project, thrilled to have outflanked our competition at Universal Studios and, alas, oblivious to the potential ramifications.
"Die Sony"
Not long after the hack, a mysterious website appeared, inviting journalists to type "Die Sony" into any internet browser, where they could find tens of thousands of leaked emails. Emails in which studio executives criticized movie stars. Emails that had sensitive employment contracts.
Then the hackers started releasing employee health records and Social Security numbers. They published pirated versions of upcoming movies such as "The Karate Kid." They even released the confidential script of the new James Bond movie. That's the ultimate Hollywood sacrilege. As part of the leaked documents, my daughters' health records flashed across the internet.
The result was mayhem. Between the constant press coverage of the confidential emails, the destroyed IT system and the panic over the employee identity theft, the studio became paralyzed.
For the next five months, the cleanup consumed my life. And after much forensic investigation, the FBI shared my speculation that the North Koreans had led the attack. Confirmation came later when they actually took credit. The North Koreans didn't exactly love "The Interview." They didn't love how it satirized their leader, let alone that it ended with his assassination.
The summer before the hack, as Sony began prerelease publicity for the movie, there were warnings that the North Koreans objected to the movie, but no indication that they would take extreme actions to prevent its release. Should I have handled those warnings differently? Should I have canceled the movie?
There was no precedent for a studio pulling a movie due to the objections of a dictator. And none of the experts warned me of potentially dire consequences.
When Sony said it wouldn't back down on releasing the film, the North Koreans threatened the movie theaters. We were poised to release the movie with millions of dollars spent on marketing when all the major theater companies refused to show it.
Conversely, the actors and filmmakers pushed hard for its release. I agreed with the filmmakers' objective, but felt that they showed insufficient concern for the threats to their theater partners. In truth,we got very little support fromthe Hollywood community.The only personI remember being braveenoughto speak outpubliclyonourbehalfwasGeorgeClooney.
Eventually we releasedthe movie overthe internet.WorkingwithGoogleandStripe(nootherplatformsorsoftwarecompaniesagreedtohelp),wedidsomethingforthefirsttime:adirectdeliveryofamoviebystudiotoviewer'shome.
Afterthehack,Iexperiencednumbnesspunctuatedonlybyfeelingsofangerandshame.IfeltangryatJulianAssange;angryatthepress;angryatpublicofficialsandindustryleaderswho'didn'tdefendSony.
Curiously,IneverreallygotangryattheNorthKoreans,onassumptionthatifyoukickthehornet'snestandgetstung,youcan'treallyblamethehornets.
FormanyyearsIburieditall:theanger,theembarrassment,theshame,thepainmyfamilyendured.NowIhavecometobelievethatthewholeaffairneitherbeganwiththatill-fatedtablereadnorendedwithmyburiedfeelings.Itultimatelycamedowntoabasichumantruth:ourdesiretobelongleadsusalltoweighheavilytheopinionsofothers.
Duringthetableread,Iwatchedasalltheotherparticipants saidthescriptoneway--brilliantcomedythatbuiltonprevioussuccessesofaparticulargenre.Justforamoment,Iwantedtojointhebadassgangthatmadesubversivemovies.For amoment,Iwantedtohang--asanequal--withtheactors.Ihadgrowntiredofplayingtheresponsibleadult ,ofwatchingthepartyfromtheoutsidewhileIplayedRisk.
Now ,years later ,Ifindit ironicthatwhileIhadrequestedthetablereadto understandwhatemotionsthescriptwouldelicitinan audience ,Ihadnotbotheredtoexamine myownemotionalstatewhenwalkinginto thatroom .
My middle-schoolself tookover ,andmy adultself lostthecouragetodisappointtheother kids .Thepartygotoutofhand ,andthecompany ,itsemployees ,myfamilyandIallpaid dearly .