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Nothing Personal
Oops-O
Farrakhan's calypso days come back to haunt. Plus: Lewinsky, art lover; Regis gets aggro; and Hasselhoff, Hasselhoff, let down your trunks ... Knight Rider leaves "Baywatch" in the dust.
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People Feature
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You've got your Pleiadians, your reptilians, dolphinoids, serpent people, the Starseeds and a bunch coming back in silicon bodies. And every darn one has a different agenda.
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Nothing Personal
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There's no need to fear, Al is here! When the going gets tough, the Gores get literal. Plus: Out of the ring into the ring? More on the great WWF migration. And, Scully and Mulder smooch.
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Nothing Personal
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People Feature
Warm for Wendy
More beautiful in person than on TV, Wendy Shalit is nonetheless just a modest woman -- with much to be modest about.
By Dov J. Levine
[11/01/99]

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Cut to noir-ish title sequence, complete with smoke curling its way up the television in fast-motion as the words "The Mike Wallace Interview" pop up on the screen one at a time.

It's now 42 years later, and the very industry that helped put Wallace's kids through college is at the center of a controversy that threatens to undermine his five-decade career in a mere two and a half hours. That's the running time of a new movie chronicling what was may turn out to be the lowest point in Wallace's career. "The Insider" centers on the "60 Minutes" debacle over whether to air a controversial exposé of the tobacco industry.

Also Today All the corporations' men "The Insider" director Michael Mann talks about corporate morality, muckraking and the drama of making real-life decisions. By Michael Sragow

Wallace is said to be fuming over his portrayal, and rightly. Despite his reputation as the country's No. 1 hard-nosed journalist, Wallace, as interpreted by Christopher Plummer, is a sell-out. He throws his loyal, longtime producer to the wolves (network executives), who are terrified of repercussions (lawsuits) from the big bad tobacco industry. Only after another media outlet breaks the story does the real-life Wallace reportedly burst forth with bravado, insisting that CBS run the story of whistle-blower Jeffrey Wigand.

From Wallace's point of view, the timing of this movie couldn't be worse. To be made to look foolish in the twilight of his career must seem to him grossly unfair. Had the tobacco fiasco occurred, say, 20 years ago, he would have had a couple of decades to repair his tarnished reputation. Instead, the battle went down in 1996, and now that every ugly detail has been preserved on celluloid, Wallace is starting to think about how he will be remembered.

And it's easy to see why he'd be concerned about his legacy: He's won 19 Emmys, three Peabody Awards and three DuPont Awards. He's interviewed everyone from LBJ to JFK, from the Ayatollah Khomeini to Nixon to Baryshnikov -- and now, at 81, this is how he stands to be remembered? As the wuss who nearly brought down CBS? How ... anti-climactic.

In the summer of 1992, I'd just won an Emmy while working for a small television production company in upstate New York. It was time to try to break into the big leagues: a job in New York City.

So what's a girl from Albany to do if she doesn't know anyone in the business? She gathers all her moxie and calls everyone she knows to see if they do. And, as luck would have it, someone does.

A friend of a friend used to go to school with a man who writes for Dan Rather at CBS. I make my cold call, and he agrees to give me a few minutes of his time. A few days later, I take the Amtrak down to the city for one of those "informational meetings" that rarely lead to a job, and usually lead only to more "informational meetings."

After our brief chat, I'm standing in the hallowed halls once roamed by Edward R. Murrow, and for some reason, Mike Wallace pops into my mind. I dare myself to try to get him on the phone. "Call him!" says one side of my brain. "Are you crazy?" says the other. "He'll think you're a stalker. Forget it." I exit the building and head toward the train station. After a few hesitant steps, I turn around and go back into the building. What do I have to lose? I stand in front of the bank of in-house phones for a good 10 minutes before I gather up the nerve to give it a shot.

The operator answers. "Mike Wallace please," I say with every drop of courage I possess. "Just a moment." I prepare to leave a message that will never be returned. Waiting, waiting ... and suddenly a forceful "Hello" from the other end of the phone. This voice is male. It is strong. It is confident. And, it is a bit impatient when I don't immediately respond. "Hello!" the voice shouts. It is Mike Wallace.

Next page | I'm going to be the next Diane Sawyer!