For example, a Euromogul must master a whole new meal etiquette. "In Europe, you spend two or three hours on lunch, and you don't talk about business except maybe in the last few minutes," explains French anthropologist Rapaille. "You might say a few words about the deal. What you're really judged on is how you behave, what you know about wine. In Hollywood, everything is organized around the deal. You're at the table for five minutes, you're already working. It can be very disorienting."
Language also can be a problem for outsiders. Matsushita's executives reportedly spoke little English when they took over MCA in 1990. Although that type of handicap is rare these days, the peculiar semantics of Hollywood can be a hazard even for the linguistically fluent. "The language of Hollywood is so filled with hyperbole that you have to be able to decode it," behavior expert Kramer explains. "Otherwise, you don't pick up that when a guy tells you that your project is fantastic and it'll be exciting to work with you, he really means that he's going to tell his assistant not to put through any more of your calls."
Some would-be moguls simply fade away. Japanese electronics giant JVC spent more than $100 million to launch its film company, Largo Entertainment, only to quietly shut it down a decade later. Others, such as Messier, depart in a storm of recriminations, litigation and bad karma. Some salve their egos by keeping things in perspective. (In his rented Los Angeles home, David Puttnam reportedly kept a framed quotation from Darryl Zanuck dismissing legendary French director Jean Renoir: "Sure, Renoir's got a lot of talent, but he's not one of us.")
But Hollywood is a dominatrix with a waiting list. The industry has "a never-ending need for money," says economist De Vany, and as long as eager outsiders have it, they'll be allowed to indulge their dream of being players, at least for a while. Sooner or later, though, most will end up like Messier, humbled and somber. When he returned to Paris to face angry Vivendi shareholders in April 2002, shortly before his ouster, the open-necked look was gone, replaced by a starched white shirt and red tie.
The periodic fall of feckless would-be moguls also enables Hollywood to lead the world in producing another entertainment product that's nearly as popular as its films and TV shows: what Germans and the would-be Eurohipsters among us call schadenfreude--the experience of taking delight in others' misfortune. Notes Kramer: "Hollywood is a zero-sum culture--there are only so many screens, only so many moviegoers. So my success is by definition your failure. That's why everyone is secretly pleased to see others fail--especially if they're outsiders."