Two ex-roomies reconnect; one stayed in showbiz, the other didn’t. Who’s happier? 4,245 words. Illustration by John Donald Carlucci.
In late May, I received a birthday invitation in the mail. Heavy stock, handsomely embossed, the kind of formal announcement that has increasingly fallen prey to Evites. I almost felt underdressed opening it.
The return address said “Rothberg”. A common enough last name in L.A.. But the invitation was from a specific Rothberg – Stu Rothberg.
Odd, I thought.
Showbiz has been very good to Stu Rothberg. A couple of years back he shared a Best Picture Oscar with another producer and one of his clients took home the Best Actress award. He now breathes the rarified air that wafts in over the Pacific to the promontory in the Palisades where he resides and didn’t have the time or inclination to rekindle our friendship.
Not long ago I saw Stu at a charity event, and he gave me the “Hollywood freeze” – staring directly through me with a blank-faced fixed gaze. The message was clear: “I see you, but I’m pretending not to. So please play along.” A silly game, but not an uncommon one, particularly in Hollywood with its site-specific caste system. Events are for networking, and he can’t very well network with someone who isn’t even on the grid.



























