The first time I met Harvey Weinstein, he called me an idiot in front of a theatre full of people. The last time I spoke to him, he told me he knew who my enemies were and threatened to give me to them on a “dish served cold”, so they could carve me up “like turkey on Thanksgiving”.
In the intervening 16 years, there were phone calls and e-mails, messages delivered by intermediaries, occasionally complimentary, mostly complaining about something I had written about one of his movies during awards season.
Already a subscriber? Log in.
Win a prize this Mother's Day by subscribing to our annual plan now! T&C applies.
Cancel anytime. No ads. Auto-renewal. Unlimited access to the web and app. Personalised features. Members rewards.
Follow us on our official WhatsApp channel for breaking news alerts and key updates!