Smelling the Circus

When Canton got to UCLA, he spent his summers working in the Warner Bros. mail room, riding his bike around the lot delivering mail to the offices of Sydney Pollack, Peter Bogdanovich, and a young Francis Ford Coppola. He could have rushed through the job. Instead, he lingered.

“It’s when you’re a kid and you go to Ringling Brothers, Barnum and Bailey, and you smell the circus and the cotton candy and the popcorn. For me, the first time I ever walked into a movie studio, and it stayed that way forever, when I get to a sound stage, it’s smelling the circus.”

That sense of wonder, Canton says, is not something you can manufacture. You either have it or you don’t. He has never lost it.

Learning From the Best 

Canton’s real education began on the set of Papillon in Jamaica, where he talked his way into a job as assistant to director Franklin Schaffner. For months, Schaffner barely acknowledged him. Canton spent his days watching Steve McQueen work out his karate, kick the heavy bag, and drink beer with Ali MacGraw, then turning to watch Dustin Hoffman spend hours alone doing his own aging makeup in complete silence. Two completely different artists. Both extraordinary.

The moment that defined him came on a Friday afternoon. Schaffner waved Canton over, blew cigar smoke in his face, and asked what he thought. Canton launched into what felt like a 20-minute rant. Schaffner looked at him and said one word: “What?”

“I realized right there, you’re either gonna projectile vomit, you’re gonna faint, or you’re gonna remember that moment and use it for all the things you want to build in your own career.”

The Warner Bros. Years

After working for Mike Medavoy at United Artists and spending time in the orbit of Barbra Streisand and Jon Peters, Canton set his sights on Warner Bros. The job he wanted was already promised to someone else. He spent the night before his interview in Malibu with director Hal Ashby, walked in on no sleep, sat down across from Ted Ashley, Terry Semel, John Calley, and Mark Rosenberg, and told them that Warner Brothers was like the Yankees and he didn’t lose.

Mike Ovitz called the next day. He had the job.

What followed was one of the most celebrated runs in studio history. Canton optioned the entire Vacation franchise for $5,000. He helped cut Caddyshack from an unworkable 200-page script down to a film that launched careers. He negotiated the Lethal Weapon deal from a phone in his bathroom so nobody could hear him close it. And in those legendary Tuesday lunches with Bob Daly and Terry Semel, he cast Mel Gibson opposite Danny Glover in a pairing nobody had imagined.

“I’ve succeeded often by putting two disparate spirits together. That’s what I’m into.”

That same instinct later produced Will Smith and Tommy Lee Jones in Men in Black.

Chairman of Columbia Pictures

When Peter Guber and Jon Peters recruited Canton to run Columbia Pictures, he made one thing clear. He was taking Columbia, not TriStar. He was a kid from Queens walking into the chairman’s office at the very studio where his father had once worked.

He built a team that became the standard for the industry. Barry Josephson became president of production. Lisa Henson became the first woman president of the studio. Before it was fashionable to prioritize diverse leadership, Canton had simply hired the best people available and trusted them completely.

“You get the best people, you help them be the best version of themselves, and you win. That’s it.”

The results were hard to argue with. Jerry Maguire, My Best Friend’s Wedding, Bad Boys, Air Force One — Columbia under Canton broke domestic box office records year after year.

When Test Screenings Get Complicated

Canton has always respected the audience, but that respect has occasionally come with fireworks. His first greenlit film at Columbia was Martin Scorsese’s The Age of Innocence, and the first test screening ended up, inexplicably, in a bowling alley in New Jersey. Scorsese did not do previews. He was not pleased. Neither was Canton. They got out and moved on.

Then came Léon: The Professional. Audiences at an early screening rejected the ending, and Canton went to director Luc Besson with a simple choice.

“You have two choices. You’re either gonna make the changes or I’m gonna release it on two screens.”

Besson made every change. The film went on to become a modern classic, and Canton still considers it one of the five greatest movies he has ever been involved with.

No Regrets

Canton paid Jim Carrey $17 million for The Cable Guy and took enormous heat for it. He stands by the decision completely. The film launched Ben Stiller as a director, introduced Jack Black and Owen Wilson to mainstream audiences, and was written by Judd Apatow. History, Canton argues, proved him right.

His one genuine frustration from that era was Wolf, where he tried everything to convince director Mike Nichols to change the film’s ending. He offered $2 million. He enlisted Diane Sawyer to make the case. He screened the film for the Clintons at the White House. Nichols went back to Nantucket and sent Canton a pillow that read “Mark Is On The Way.” Canton sent one back that said “Mike Will Fix The Ending.” He still has the pillow at home. Nichols never fixed the ending.

What the Audience Always Knew

When Goetz asks Canton what keeps audiences coming back, his answer connects everything he has believed since the day he first walked onto a studio lot.

“You have to give people the feeling of a live performance. When you go to the Michael Jackson film, you feel like you’re actually at a concert. Like we did with Purple Rain, when everyone said this kid is crazy. People want a communal experience. Something transformative. Something they can’t get sitting at home. Smell the circus. That’s what this has always been about.”

Five decades after delivering mail on the Warner Bros. lot, Mark Canton is still in the right room. And he still loves every minute of it.

If you enjoyed this article, please subscribe, drop a comment, and share it with a fellow film lover. We look forward to bringing you more behind-the-scenes revelations next time on Don’t Kill the Messenger.