Has Harvey Lost His Way?

The annual Miramax pre-oscar bash looked like a frothy success. Lots of celebs (Nicole Kidman! Salman Rushdie! Diane Sawyer!) and rivers of Piper-Heidsieck champagne. And there were skits as always--send-ups of the company's Oscar-nominated movies, including a spoof of In the Bedroom in which Dame Judi Dench dressed up like Sissy Spacek and chain-smoked.

But something was amiss. The party seemed more crowded than cool. Kidman walked the red carpet, lingered on the fringes, then told friends she just wanted to go home and take a bath. And there was the final sketch of the evening. Miramax co-chairman Harvey Weinstein and DreamWorks co-owner Jeffrey Katzenberg, both players in this year's especially combative Oscar race, took the stage in gladiator uniforms for a mock therapy session that hit a little too close to home. "You fat f___!" exclaimed Katzenberg at one point, echoing a sentiment not uncommon in Hollywood but usually muttered behind Weinstein's back. The most uncomfortable moment, however, came when it was time to hand out "Max" awards to the studio's Oscar nominees, including Marisa Tomei and Renee Zellweger. Weinstein was joined onstage by his young daughter; he joked that she had to pitch in because there weren't enough Miramax employees left. Earlier in the week the company had laid off some 75 people, or 15% of its work force.

Has Miramax lost its magic? That's the question Hollywood has been asking for months, and it was posed yet again after the awards ceremony on March 24. Out of 15 nominations, Miramax received just one Oscar--for Jim Broadbent's supporting performance in Iris. It's not as if Weinstein and his brother Bob, who co-founded the Manhattan-based company 22 years ago, are going hungry. Last year, say the brothers, Miramax pulled in nearly $1 billion, with $161 million in profit, at the global box office. But in an industry where you are what you drive, perception is important. The paucity of awards, the firings, the closing of glitzy Talk magazine (which Miramax co-funded), the bouncing release date and swollen budget of Martin Scorsese's $95 million Gangs of New York, as well as dismal showings by its TV division and two recent box-office duds, Kate & Leopold and The Shipping News, all indicate that Miramax may have finally come to the end of an unparalleled winning streak.

The studio first hit pay dirt in the '80s with the success of small, quirky films like sex, lies, and videotape, then exploded with big hits, including The Crying Game and Pulp Fiction. It reached critical mass with Best Picture winners The English Patient and Shakespeare in Love during the late '90s. The brothers--Harvey especially--seemed to have a knack for seeing around the zeitgeist and an unerring eye for talent. Gwyneth Paltrow, Matt Damon and Ben Affleck became part of the Miramax stable, the newest cool kids' table in Hollywood.