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L.A. Confidential

“Don’t believe everything you hear,” says union leader Leo Reed, who is often cast as the Hollywood heavy.

Leo Reed
AGE: 65
EDUCATION: Colorado State University, 1961; Brigham Young University of Hawaii, 1971
EXPERIENCE: Offensive lineman, Denver Broncos and Houston Oilers, 1961; Toronto Argonauts, 1962 - 1963; Honolulu police officer, metro squad, 1964 - 1970; Teacher, 1972; Supervisory business agent, HGEA, 1973 - 1975; supervisory business agent, Hawaii Teamsters, 1975 - 1979; Joined Teamsters Local 399 in 1980 and elected secretary/treasurer of the union in 1988.
HOBBIES: Hawaii state heavyweight judo champion, 1965 - 1975; first person in Hawaii to bench press more than 500 lbs.
FAMILY: Wife, Debbi; sons, Dewey, 29, Leo, 21
Photo: Ronen Zilberman

Five years ago, Leo Reed, secretary/treasurer for the International Brotherhood of Teamsters Local 399, was a villain in his own hometown. Producers of Baywatch, the long-running television series, with a worldwide following, wanted to relocate their show from Los Angeles to Honolulu. They had already received millions of dollars in incentives and breaks from the state government and local businesses and now they claimed that concessions from the respective movie and television unions were the only things holding the deal back. They asked Reed and his union members for an 11 percent wage cut. The Screen Actors' Guild and the International Association of Theater Stage Employees and the Directors Guild of America had already made concessions. If the Teamsters couldn't make the cuts, producers said Baywatch would have no choice but to move to Australia.

Reed wouldn't budge, and he was cast as the Hollywood heavy by Baywatch execs as well as the local media. Eventually, Baywatch made the move without the concessions. However, after two uneventful seasons, the show was cancelled, leaving broken promises, hard feelings and lawsuits in its wake, like so much beach trash.

Reed's serendipitous route to Hollywood and rapid rise to top man in his union seems like something straight out of the movies. He was born and raised on the North Shore, where he attended Kahuku High School. After graduation, he went to Colorado State University on a football scholarship, then joined the AFL's Denver Broncos and Houston Oilers. Reed returned to the Islands several years later, and became a police officer. After five years, he went back to school to get his teaching certificate. He taught for a year before joining the labor movement, working for David Trask at the HGEA. In 1980, following a messy divorce, he moved to Los Angeles, where he started from scratch, driving a truck at age 40. Eight years later, he was named head of the union.

Q: With three TV shows in production on Oahu, Hawaii's film and television industry is having a banner year. I understand you and your union members made some wage concessions for all three shows.

I gave them the rate that they have in Hollywood for episodic and pilot television, which normally is 3 percent less than in Hawaii and other locations. We also have no vacation or holiday pay in the first year. In the second year, we get half [vacation and holiday] pay and by the third year we get full pay. Usually we don't agree to pay cuts, but Hawaii was starving. This will give the productions a jump start.

I'm very happy for the people of Hawaii. I think that these three series will help a lot for the workers, in addition to promoting tourism.

Q: Why did you agree to wage concessions, when you refused to do it five years ago for Baywatch?

When a production company is considering a move, it doesn't matter if my people work for $5 an hour or $50 an hour, it's never solely because of the labor. When Baywatch came here, producers asked for concessions, I told them that they would have to pay the same wages that they would in Hollywood. Period. I knew I had them. I knew they had money. This is what I do for a living. The production was in its death throes. It couldn't make it in Hollywood, so they were trying to revive it in Hawaii. One of the film officials from Australia gave me a call and said, "Hang in there, mate." They didn't want Baywatch down there.

Years ago, I got a call from Florida governor Lawton Chiles about a show called The Cape. The producers wanted our people to work for $13 an hour when they usually work for $20 an hour. The producers told the governor that if they couldn't get the concessions, they would take the show to North Carolina or Texas. I told the governor that if they did that, I'd be there to meet them. Sure enough, they didn't leave. When I heard about Baywatch, I just figured, Here we go again. This will be easy. I never expected all the editorials that came out against me.

Q: It sounds as though you've learned some pretty hard lessons in Hollywood. How does a guy from the North Shore take on these Hollywood types?

Hollywood has always been like this. In Hollywood, things are so corrupt that, when someone gets caught doing something wrong, he gets promoted. When I first got there, I got burned. I grew up in Laie, in a very religious community. When someone tells me, "Leo, I swear to God and on my kids' heads …," I believe them. But lying is an everyday thing in Hollywood. In 1991, producers for the movie of the week asked me to make concessions for my members, a 15 percent cut in pay plus no vacation or holiday pay, which came out to a 23 percent cut. They said, "If you give this to us, we'll stay in California." We gave it to them. When I told my members about the concession, they were screaming at me. I said, "Eighty percent of something is better than 100 percent of nothing." The productions stayed in California for six months. Then the producers called me from Canada and said that the Canadians had given them a better deal, but if I could give them something better, they'd come back. I told them, "F--- you. Don't ever come back."

Q: When do you know when to hold them and when to fold them?

The movie and television industry is a $33-billion business. It's the second-largest industry in California, bringing in $28 billion. It employs 250,000 people either directly or indirectly. But when I sit down at the negotiating table, it doesn't matter that it makes billions of dollars. It doesn't matter that the cost of living is 2.8 percent. All that matters is that you can kick it in the ass.

I don't want to sound like the Lone Ranger. If producers make money, we make money. If they are losing money, we'll take a pay cut. I don't like to strike. Art Rutledge once told me that you never call for a strike unless you already know how to get your people back to work immediately. Also, never call a strike if it will last more than a week. If it doesn't fit those criteria, stay at the table and keep talking. I'm not a loose cannon. A strike is the last resort. Everyone loses during a strike.

Q: Any advice to local business people or state officials who'll be dealing with Hollywood in the future?

Listen carefully but don't believe everything you hear. Don't be bamboozled. Behind all the glitz and glamour, Hollywood is a very cold place. People there lie as easily as they breathe.

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