Attorneys Call Charlie Sheen's Legal Case Sound, Hilarious 
 
 Email This Charlie Sheen may have long ago departed on the train to crazy town, but his legal team is entirely sane and 
 
 
 
 "It is the most hilarious lawsuit I have ever seen written on legal paper," says trial attorney Stacy Schneider, who is betting that Lorre and Warner Bros. will seek to settle quickly rather than continue to allow Sheen to publicly embarrass them. 
 
 
 
 Warner Brothers claims they fired Sheen because of his lack of moral turpitude. But Sheen's lawyer, Marty Singer, quite aptly points out in his 30-page complaint that they had no trouble with Charlie's morals a few months ago when they signed him to a two year extended contract knowing he was in rehab and on the verge of a conviction for holding a knife to his wife's throat in Aspen. 
 
 
 
 "There is a legitimacy to his claims. They put up with so much bad behavior in the past that they waive their right to pursue a morality clause when it becomes convenient," says attorney Joey Jackson. "He behaved like a horrific person but he wasn't terminated until he said horrible things about Chuck Lorre and that was his First Amendment right." Charlie Sheen may have long ago departed on the train to crazy town, but his legal team is entirely sane and his $100 million lawsuit against former boss Chuck Lorre and production company Warner Brothers has some serious legs -- in addition to being wildly entertaining."It is the most hilarious lawsuit I have ever seen written on legal paper," says trial attorney Stacy Schneider, who is betting that Lorre and Warner Bros. will seek to settle quickly rather than continue to allow Sheen to publicly embarrass them.Warner Brothers claims they fired Sheen because of his lack of moral turpitude. But Sheen's lawyer, Marty Singer, quite aptly points out in his 30-page complaint that they had no trouble with Charlie's morals a few months ago when they signed him to a two year extended contract knowing he was in rehab and on the verge of a conviction for holding a knife to his wife's throat in Aspen."There is a legitimacy to his claims. They put up with so much bad behavior in the past that they waive their right to pursue a morality clause when it becomes convenient," says attorney Joey Jackson. "He behaved like a horrific person but he wasn't terminated until he said horrible things about Chuck Lorre and that was his First Amendment right." 
 
 Schneider adds, "You can't cancel a deal because you decide it's OK for him to abuse drugs yesterday, and today it isn't."Sheen's legal eagles claim his dismissal had more to do with Lorre's bruised ego than their client's bad behavior and allege that when the actor tried to return to work after his January hospitalization, Lorre pushed production back with a variety of excuses.In an altruistic turn, Sheen and his attorneys are also demanding "the entire cast and crew get paid for the balance of the season's 24 episodes.""Once you file a lawsuit, you don't get paid and you don't get hired," Sheen's attorney told The Hollywood Reporter . "Charlie is looking out for the people he's working with. Warner Brothers can try to cast this however they want but the complaint speaks for itself."The suit also alleges that Sheen's contract includes a "pay or play" clause that guarantees he be paid for 24 episodes per season and all ancillary revenues, regardless of whether he works."This lawsuit really rips into the insider industry practices of the producers of this show and could prove that some of Charlie's claims against the network and Lorre are legitimate. there actually may be more than one 'bad boy' in this situation," Schneider says. "Just as Charlie has been trying to sell his version of the truth with his wild media campaign, this lawsuit goes a step further. There are no details left unsaid in these legal papers."It would be prudent for Warner Brothers and Lorre to settle if their opponent were anyone but Sheen-anyone who doesn't have tiger blood and Adonis DNA (not mentioned in the lawsuit)."Charlie is the kind of guy who is all or nothing. I don't think he will take less than $100 million," Jackson says. ||||| I read in the paper today that Conan O'Brien's documentary is out this weekend. The one that chronicles the purportedly healing journey/concert tour he went on after his messy divorce from NBC. I also read that Charlie Sheen is suing Warner Brothers for $100 million and the two of these things reminded me of one of the more character-building experiences that I had in my career, many years ago. 
 
 People often ask me why I never continued in the role of Jack Ryan in the movies based on Tom Clancy's great novels. Usually, I have given a half truth as an answer, something about scheduling conflicts and so forth. But the truth is the studio cut my throat. Or, more specifically, an executive at the studio named David Kirkpatrick who was, as studio executives are on their way both up and down the ladder, eager to prove he had that special quality that studio executives are eager to display. That quality is an utter lack of sentimentality while transacting deals around a business built on sentimentality. 
 
 The run of events in 1991 went like this. John McTiernan, who directed The Hunt For Red October, called me repeatedly over a period of a few days and that got my attention because John was not someone who did that. I knew it must be something important. I had been traveling to Syracuse to see my mother who had been diagnosed with breast cancer. I had lost my dad in 1983 to lung cancer when he was fifty-five and the idea of being an orphan, technically speaking, at the age of 33 weighed heavily on me. It took a few rounds before John and I connected. 
 
 On the phone, John told me that during the period of the previous few months, he had been negotiating to do a film with a very famous movie star who had dropped out of his film days before so that he could go star in the sequels to The Hunt For Red October. John further told me that Paramount owed the actor a large sum of money for a greenlit film that fell apart prior to this, and pushing me aside would help to alleviate that debt and put someone with much greater strength at the box office than mine in the role. I sat there mildly stunned because not only was I in an active negotiation with Paramount, but for them to negotiate simultaneously with another actor was against the law. My mother was about to have a double mastectomy. I asked John if he was sure about all of this and he said yes, he had talked with the famous actor directly who confirmed the story. All of this served to explain why the studio would not close my deal over what I thought were some relatively arbitrary issues surrounding the dates of production. 
 
 I got a call from Mace Neufeld, the film's producer who I had worked with on Hunt. The call resembled that final scene in Sorry, Wrong Number (great film), where Burt Lancaster exhorts Barbara Stanwyck to get out of bed and scream for help lest she be killed by emissaries of Lancaster himself. Neufeld told me to sign whatever deal they were offering and "the rest would take care of itself." 
 
 I flew from Syracuse to Long Island to attend to some business. I drove to a friend's home where I was to have dinner and was informed by my assistant that I should call David Kirkpatrick right away. Kirkpatrick was a beady-eyed, untalented tool who had seemed like he was up to something throughout my sequel negotiation. Now, he became vividly clear. I had to decide if I would agree to an open-ended clause relating to dates for the first sequel and thus completely give up the chance to do one of the greatest dramas in the American theatre, or he would rescind my offer. They had the other guy all lined up, and they were looking for a way to gut me. I thought he wasn't serious at first. Then, when I realized he was, I chose A Streetcar Named Desire. 
 
 A lot changed in my life with that decision. And I do not regret it. The movie and television business are filled with some of the most wonderful and talented people you could ever know. It is also the rock under which you find the biggest, lyingest, thievingest scumbags on Earth. (They tend to be the ones that are not in any craft or union related to actually making a movie.) However, one of the great oddities in show business is how someone you respect can have a good experience with someone you loathe. Conan had a tough time reconciling Jeff Zucker's decisions. Maybe I would have too. Meanwhile, Jeff has only been supportive of me during my recent years at NBC. Go figure. 
 
 Conan has moved on and his great talent is undiminished by his difficult experiences. I had wanted to say to him back then what I will now offer to Charlie. You can't win. Really. You can't. When executives at studios and networks move up to the highest ranks, they are given a book. The book is called How to Handle Actors. And one principle held dear in that book is that no actor is greater than the show itself when the show is a hit. And, in that regard, they are often right. Add to that the fact that the actor who is torturing their diseased egos is a drug-addled, porn star-squiring, near-Joycean Internet ranter, and they really want you to go. 
 
 Granted, it didn't get real until you insulted them. And your suit may have real grounds. 
 
 But you know what you should do? Take a nap. Get a shower. Call Chuck. Go on Letterman and make an apology. Write a huge check to the B'Nai Brith. And then beg for your job back. Your fans demand it. You will never win because when you are as big a douchebag as some of these guys are, they have no choice but to snuff you. (Do you secretly want to get snuffed? So you can go back and make movies?) 
 
 Sober up, Charlie. And get back on TV, if it's not too late. This is America. You want to really piss off Chuck and Warner Brothers and CBS? Beg for America's forgiveness. They will give it to you. And then go back. You are a great television star. And you've got the gig. As I learned from closely observing Tony Bennett so I could impersonate him on SNL, this is supposed to be fun.
– Alec Baldwin has a message for recently fired Charlie Sheen: When it comes to studio executives, “You can't win. Really. You can't,” he writes on the Huffington Post. In light of that stark fact, he also has some advice for Sheen: “Take a nap. Get a shower. Call Chuck. Go on Letterman and make an apology. And then beg for your job back.” Baldwin can speak to all this because he had his own run-in with a studio executive, back when David Kirkpatrick bounced him from the sequels to The Hunt for Red October, an experience he recounts in detail in the HuffPo piece. From that, Baldwin learned that the entertainment industry is “the rock under which you find the biggest, lyingest, thievingest scumbags on Earth.” And “when you are as big a douchebag as some of these guys are, they have no choice but to snuff you,” Baldwin concludes. “Sober up, Charlie. And get back on TV, if it's not too late. This is America. You want to really piss off Chuck and Warner Brothers and CBS? Beg for America's forgiveness. They will give it to you. And then go back. You are a great television star. And you've got the gig.” One last piece of advice: “PS ... buy Cryer a really nice car.” (Click to see why Sheen’s lawsuit is not without merit.)