Downton Abbey And The Gilded Age Writer Julian Fellowes has written a heartfelt tribute to his friend and fellow producer Eileen Maisel, who died in London on February 16 at the age of 68.
Elaine Maisel was born in Los Angeles, California, where she grew up. In fact, her father had moved there from Alabama to work in retail sales, so she had no immediate help in a showbiz career, but it was clear she was breathing the same air as great filmmakers past and present. It’s no surprise to learn that she was working for entertainment journalist Rhona Barrett when she was 15 years old.
From then on, she embraced, bathed in, and generally loved the film industry until the end of her life. There was little doubt about where she was headed and she was still young when she entered the industry.
Elaine had a big personality, and could be intimidating, as anyone who knew her will attest, but she was also wonderfully funny and extremely wise. She was lucky too. Having a gigantic personality can be a disadvantage when starting out, but there were people who, from the beginning, recognized its potential. In 1980, it was taken over by Frank Yablans – the former head of Paramount Pictures, who at the time was thriving as an independent producer.
When Yablance became president of MGM, Ellen followed him there as executive vice president. Later, her path crossed with that of Bernie Brillstein, the brilliant talent agent and producer who brought us many hits. Bernie saw Elaine’s potential from the early days and took her to Lorimar in 1983, where, as Senior Vice President of Production, she oversaw the production of several well-received films, including the international hit, Dangerous relationshipswhich received several nominations and three wins at the 1989 Academy Awards. By this time, it was clear that The Ellen Show was definitely on the way.
In 1990, she was put in charge of Paramount’s European production which became her specialty, which in turn moved her to England, where she would return to her homeland. It was not the land of her birth but it had become the land of her heart, even if it was London, not the green and rolling hills, that embraced her. Few would dispute that Ellen was not a country girl. When she visited us in Dorset, her car had barely stopped on the gravel when she asked out loud: “When are we coming back?”
She moved from Paramount in 1998 to Fine Line Cinema, as senior vice president of European production and acquisitions and then to New Line Cinema, an appointment that once again made use of her special talents. One of her last big adventures was when she teamed up with documentary filmmaker Lawrence Ellman to found Amber Entertainment, an intellectual property company that deals with companies like Endemol. This includes not only feature films, but also television dramas and documentaries.
By this time, she had other heroes. It was Bert Salk who brought Elaine to Fox 2000, and she enjoyed working with him very much, and then, after Fox merged with Disney, came the collaboration with Karey Burke at 20th Century Fox Television, where she flourished.
The point is that the Hollywood system was a game, and by the time Elaine was 30, she understood the rules and knew how to play them. Her reward was an extraordinary time for herself and the industry, when she oversaw the production of some outstanding films, including Ripley’s game, Golden compass, Inkhart And Oneginwith Ralph Fiennes and Liv Tyler, which led to Elaine being nominated for a BAFTA Award for Best British Film.
In the late 1990s, she came into my life, and I would later be an eyewitness to the niche she made for herself in the entertainment industry. I wrote a few children’s series for the BBC, but they had grown tired of my great ladies and grateful servants, and although I was still acting, my career behind the camera was flagging.
What saved me was that Eileen and I were friends with Duncan Heath, the head of ICM at the time, who was, and still is, at the center of British industry. He introduced me to Elaine, and at his suggestion, she hired me as copy editor. I was immediately impressed by her respect for the fans. She was determined that they would enjoy her films and have a good time watching them.
In those days, audiences were not necessarily a top priority for many filmmakers, who were more keen to showcase their beliefs and anxieties as they struggled with life’s challenges. As a result, a lot of the movies that were made were very boring, and Elaine wanted to change that.
We were working on a script with a certain writer, and it became clearer than ever that Elaine’s message wasn’t getting through, until the day she turned to me and suggested we’d wasted enough time. “Just write a draft yourself,” she said. I did. It was never made, but eventually he got a job writing what it became Gosford Park. Her role in the making of the film was enhanced by Mary Selway, her beloved, long-time partner, being hired as casting director by Robert Altman – all of which gave Elaine a place in my story, and for that I thanked her with all my heart. Oscar stage in 2002. In the same year it was produced Ripley’s game With John Malkovich in New Line, one of her best films and perhaps the film she was most proud of in her career.
Eileen dictated the terms of her own life. From breakfast every day at her favorite restaurant, Claridge’s, accompanied by about a hundred mysterious vitamins, to the moment she closed her eyes at night, she made her own decisions and followed her own patterns. We were made Romeo and Juliet Together in 2012, I was able to closely examine her trick of combining memorable lunches and dinners, filled with entertaining men and women, characterized by informed and intelligent conversations, with a keen understanding of what was going on with any one of her groups.
In conclusion, I think that Elaine’s greatest gift was her understanding and appreciation of people. She could see what they were capable of, and she wouldn’t hesitate to pressure them to do it, and do it better. Sure, she had a smile that could light up a crowded awards show, but she was able to fight like a tiger to get what she wanted.
She was determined, determined, and rarely distracted, perhaps because making movies and television shows was her whole world. She was comfortable with that, she was at peace – something you rarely see, even in successful artists.
Many people who do well in the industry suffer from imposter syndrome, the fear that they will be dismissed and fired at any moment. Others develop enormous egos to cope with the pressures of their jobs, so disconnected from all reality, they end up clinically dysfunctional, and victims of manipulative sycophants. None of this was true for Eileen. She knew her place in the universe. She felt like she belonged there. And she was right.