Why Clint Eastwood vindictively ruined his best friend’s career: “Get your shit out of there”
In an industry built on self-preservation, loyalty is one of the hardest things to come by in Hollywood. While Clint Eastwood has a reputation for working with the same crew on multiple pictures, he doesn’t have any issue ruining any of their careers in an instant if they get on the wrong side of him.
One of the reasons why the four-time Academy Award winner earned his stripes as one of the most economical filmmakers in the business is that most of the key behind-the-scenes positions are filled with people he knows, trusts, and can easily get to grips with his quickfire shooting style.
Editor Joel Cox, sound editor Alan Robert Murray, camera operator Charles Saldana, composer Lennie Niehaus, cinematographer Jack Green, and costume designer Glenn Wright have made dozens of Eastwood films between them, and that’s barely scratching the surface of his go-to guys.
For a while, it looked as though Fritz Manes was becoming indispensable to the grizzled icon’s collective, until he was ruthlessly disposed of. They were virtually inseparable for a decade, but once Eastwood had decided that he no longer had any use for one of his closest friends in cinema, the dream was over.
It’s not just that Manes never worked on another Eastwood-backed film again; he never worked on anything. His entire filmography started and finished with the Dirty Harry and Unforgiven icon, with the troubled production of Heartbreak Ridge the straw that broke the camel’s back.
As an associate producer, executive producer, background bit-part actor, and unit production manager, Manes had been gainfully employed on The Enforcer, The Gauntlet, Every Which Way but Loose, Escape from Alcatraz, Bronco Billy, Any Which Way You Can, Firefox, Honkytonk Man, Sudden Impact, Tightrope, City Heat, and Pale Rider, so he was basically part of the Malpaso Productions furniture.
However, when tensions began to flare, on Eastwood’s side, at least, Manes was exiled. After a screaming match between them shortly when Heartbreak Ridge was in post-production, the star wasn’t seen for two months. When he returned, he told Manes that “It would be a good time for you to go to work with somebody else and get some other experience,” which essentially meant ‘fuck off’.
He kept showing up to his office at Malpaso’s headquarters with no sign of Eastwood, and when the director did finally make contact, it was to give him the boot. One day, the phone rang, and it was a call Manes didn’t want to hear: “What the fuck are you doing hanging out in there?” he was asked.
Thinking it was a joke, he tried to roll with the punches. Unfortunately, Eastwood was deadly serious. “Get all your shit out of there,” he said. “Sonia Chernus is moving in. I’m bringing her back into the company, and she’s going to be using your office.” She hadn’t been involved in a Malpaso film since The Outlaw Josey Wales ten years previously, and Manes saw the writing on the wall.
An hour later, he’d packed his things and vacated the premises. To make things even more vindictive, Eastwood instructed his accountant, Roy Kaufman, to make one last petty request. “You have something else that Clint needs back,” Manes was informed. “A VCR.” It wasn’t even Manes’, but because it was sitting idle in the company’s offices, he wanted to make sure it wasn’t taken home.
It was an ingominious end to Manes’ Hollywood career, and despite his best efforts to prove himself outside of Eastwood’s shadow, he never worked on another feature in any capacity, and he had a good idea as to why: “Clint does a destruction derby on everyone who leaves, and it’s never traceable.”
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