Furious Styles wrote:
The first few seasons were marred by Hank's assistant (and Garry Shandling's girlfriend at the time). She was a terrible character/actor.
Linda Doucett. She sued Shandling and Brad Grey after they booted her from the show and Shandling broke up with her. Doucett rec'd a cool mil in 1994 as walking paper from Shandling.
Brad Grey and Shandling would have a falling out a few years later, that pretty much ended Shandling's career, unfortunately.
http://deadline.com/2008/03/garry-shand ... rial-5154/Quote:
In the beginning, Shandling and Grey seemed buoyed and absorbed by each other’s promise. They were introduced by Grey’s first client, Bob Saget, in 1979, at the Westwood Comedy Store. Shandling, a former writer for “Sanford and Son,” signed with Grey, and he introduced him to other promising young comedians, including Dennis Miller and Dana Carvey. In 1983, Grey met his future partner, Bernie Brillstein, after a Shandling gig in San Francisco. Brillstein, the manager of such clients as Jim Henson and Lorne Michaels, liked Grey but didn’t take to Shandling. “I thought Garry was a road-company David Brenner,” says Brillstein, who is now sixty-six and a genial, white-bearded presence. “But Brad said, ‘No, you’ll see—he’s a genius.’ ”
http://www.newyorker.com/magazine/1998/ ... -year-itchQuote:
Brad Grey said, “O.K., prepare yourself.” He pulled out a photograph of himself with Garry Shandling, backstage after a standup-comedy show in the early eighties. Shandling wore a brown leather jacket with a fuzzy black collar, a look that was mildly unfortunate, but Grey sported a white-mesh “Eddie Rabbitt” cap, hair that screamed REO Speedwagon, and forty extra pounds. We were sitting in his office, on Wilshire Boulevard.
“Now, this is the one I’ve been thinking about,” he said, sliding across the desk an eight-by-ten from 1984: Shandling, his arm around Grey, was slim and handsome in a well-cut jacket. He looked like a star. But Grey was still pudgy and unfocussed—someone’s awkward kid brother. “And,” he said, pausing as he overlaid that photograph with a small shot of the forty-eight-year-old Shandling in a recent issue of Entertainment Weekly. Grey, who is forty, pivoted in his chair in the middle of his large, surpassingly clean office and carefully propped his black shoes on a sofa. He waited as I noticed that Shandling looked wan, worn out.
With just a few images, Grey had introduced the idea that he and Shandling had switched roles over the years—that the acolyte had become the mentor. Having asked to see the photographs, I now pushed Grey to interpret them. He said, “Well, I was overweight and very unattractive, just a kid. He has a sparkle in his eye, and you can see that he’s in charge—I’ve since thought he hired me because he knew he’d be in control. But I think I have the sparkle now, and he looks like a troubled soul.”
Grey told me a story that introduced the idea of envy. Last fall, shortly before he dropped Shandling as a client—and while Shandling’s lawyer was inspecting Brillstein-Grey’s files—Grey says, Shandling showed up at the house that Grey was building in Pacific Palisades. Shandling told the construction foreman that he was a friend, and just sat for a while gazing at the Prairie-style shingled mansion. Shandling’s home, in Brentwood, is legendary in Hollywood as a source of expense and dissatisfaction to him, and Grey says that it was “unsettling” to hear about Shandling eying his house. “I guess he might have been jealous of me, of my . . . happiness. He’s alone in a house that he hates, pretending to be happy, with no love in his life.” Through his lawyer, Shandling says that Grey had invited him to drop by and that he later told Grey the house was “beautiful.”