When most of us go to the movies, all we have to worry about is picking one movie and one theater.
Imagine if you were the person responsible for persuading theater owners to buy that movie for 3,000 or more screens. And as if that weren't enough, imagine that you had to know not only about your new movie but about those of your competitors on all of the nation's roughly 35,000 screens.
For as long as most people can remember at Warner Bros., that person was Barry Reardon.
Reardon, who retired March 19, spent 21 years--including 17 as distribution chief--at the company that during his tenure became Hollywood's Tiffany studio in terms of winning performance: Sixteen out of 20 years, Warner Bros. ranked among the top three studios in North American box-office market share. Eight years it placed first and five years it was second.
Even during the studio's recent rough ride from January 1997 to November 1998, when box-office results finally began to turn positive, Warner remained in the top three--an enviable position considering that it had suffered its worst spate of flops in nearly two decades.
Praise and blame could be laid in part on Reardon's shoulders. While production executives and studio heads are responsible for making movies, the marketing department has to sell those movies to the public and distribution has to convince theater owners to choose their films over other studios' pictures.
Exhibitors and rival distributors alike credit this 31-year movie business veteran--dubbed the "dean of distribution"--with helping to "revolutionize" how movies are both marketed and released.
"It's absolutely true. Barry single-handedly changed the way distribution is looked at as an art form in the business today," says Tom Sherak, chairman of 20th Century Fox's Domestic Film Group.
In ways large and small, from keeping tabs on daily and weekend box office to expanding the traditional summer release period to something as mundane as shipping movies to theaters on larger reels, Reardon changed the way his company, and the industry, did business.
"Barry was my mentor for many years and I can tell you his understanding of numbers and the business is unparalleled," Sherak says. "He is one of the few people who really did change the game. Everyone who knows anything will tell you he revolutionized this business and he is a visionary. We all learned from him directly or indirectly, although a lot of us won't admit it. That said, I take a quote from a great general in summing up Barry: Old film buyers don't die, they just fade away."
Joins Village Roadshow, Expands Consulting Role
Fade? Hardly. Reardon will remain under contract as a consultant to Warners for the next two years. Barely out the door a week, he joined the board of Australia's distribution giant Village Roadshow Ltd. and its L.A. production arm, Village Roadshow Pictures, whose films Warner Bros. releases in the U.S. and some international markets.
Where Reardon's previous influence was restricted by his role as a Warner executive, being "retired" as a consultant-for-hire allows him to spread his "influence" much further. Several studio chiefs confide privately they will seek his counsel not only on distribution, but marketing strategy and cost-cutting measures.
Long before mainstream media became obsessed with weekend box-office stories, Reardon in the early 1980s started coming into work on Saturday and Sunday to track grosses at key theaters.
When asked about it today, he jokes, "I don't know if that's a positive when you think about how everyone is so consumed with it these days."
The summer season traditionally began Memorial Day and ended Labor Day, and Reardon helped boost business by opening "summer" films in early May and in the dog days of August as well, which had always been considered a dead time for moviegoing.
In 1993, "Dave" marked Warner Bros.' first effort to expand summer. After that film's success in opening on May 7, Reardon realized early May could be a prime time to open a movie, and in 1996 he decided to open "Twister" on May 10, which gave the film a wide-open slot ahead of Paramount's "Mission: Impossible."
Reardon also had a reputation for never couching the truth with studio brass or filmmakers. "I hated it when he'd tell me [a film] wasn't going to work," says producer Steven Reuther ("Message in a Bottle"). "Absolutely hated it. But he'd tell you the truth if you ask. Don't want to hear it? Don't ask."
Sometimes when producers thought they had a sure-fire hit that could be released at any time during a peak season, Reardon would protect them against their own poor judgment.
"The Fugitive" producer Arnold Kopelson concedes "his [Reardon's] selection of the Aug. 6 release date [in 1993] wound up being pure genius"--end of summer and out of the crunch period for summer movies. "Before then, major films were never released at the beginning of August."
Helped Develop the Movie Marketing System