As Carr writes, "Mr. Reynolds was first questioned by the Federal Bureau of Investigation at the Los Angeles offices of Condé Nast early in 2003. Mr. Pellicano, who is serving as his own lawyer, asserted in his cross-examination that Mr. Reynolds had bragged about bugging his own supervisor — no name was mentioned — at Condé Nast and that Mr. Reynolds had provided him with a prepublication copy of a Vanity Fair article (widely assumed to be about the Hollywood 'superagent' Michael S. Ovitz)."

Also according to Carr, "Mr. Reynolds emphatically denied both assertions."

Maybe Mr. Reynold's memory isn't so good, according to Vanity Fair's Bryan Burrough. In a blog post on VF Daily, the magazine's special correspondent writes, "Pellicano, it was alleged at trial, used Reynolds to get an advance copy of a 2002 article I authored on his client, the erstwhile superagent Michael Ovitz; this was the piece in which Ovitz famously blamed his fall on the 'Gay Mafia.' I actually thought that was kind of funny. Everyone in Hollywood got an advance copy of that article. I’ve worked at Vanity Fair for sixteen years, and never—never—did an article make as many rounds in advance as that one. I think they were handing out copies with Star Maps." (Emphasis, Burrough's.)

The writer doesn't know how his work leaked out, but he speculates that "If Reynolds got it on Friday, he probably just picked up a copy at the office."

By some accounts, the 49-year-old supermarket tycoon Ron Burkle should be adding to the murk. Mr. Burkle, the press-shy managing partner of an investment firm called the Yucaipa Companies, has long been considered a financial backer of the 55-year-old Mr. Ovitz's ill-fated entrepreneurial streak, but there's been considerable speculation about the extent of his investment. But in the wake of Mr. Ovitz's pending deal with the Firm, some details seem to be bubbling to the surface. Mr. Burkle told the Observer that as part of his dealings with Mr. Ovitz, he was given an option to purchase 10 percent of A.M.G. and was surprised to discover that Mr. Ovitz had not first consulted with him before agreeing to sell his company. In additon, a spokesman for Mr. Burkle who requested anonymity alleged that Mr. Ovitz owes Mr. Burkle in excess of $10 million as a result of business ventures they undertook.

Among those ventures were two Internet companies: Checkout.com, a now-defunct e-commerce portal, and Scour.Net Inc., a file-sharing network that was shut down for copyright infringement in the spring of 2000.

But two spokesmen for Mr. Ovitz-both of whom requested anonymity-denied that A.M.G.'s founder was indebted to Mr. Burkle. "That is absolutely, positively untrue," said Ovitz spokesman No. 1. "That's la-la land."

Though Mr. Burkle has yet to take any legal action, those in his camp say he is currently weighing that option. Mr. Ovitz and A.M.G. are already the object of a $9.6 million breach-of-contract lawsuit filed by the head of the company's late Artists Television Group.

Dear Mr. Ovitz

Mr. Burkle first learned about the A.M.G. sale by reading about it in the Los Angeles Times and quickly fired off a letter to Mr. Ovitz-with copies sent to his lawyers and principals of the Firm-asking that he be able to assess the value of his 10 percent option.

Reached by phone at his Beverly Hills home, Mr. Burkle confirmed the existence of the option, but declined to discuss the matter further. "We had an option on A.M.G., and we sent a letter to Mike and wanted to know if our option had died," he told The Observer .

A spokesman for Mr. Burkle said that Mr. Ovitz never responded to the letter.

Mr. Ovitz's camp confirmed the existence of the option, but vehemently denied that Mr. Burkle was owed money. "There have been discussions between the parties," said Ovitz spokesman No. 2. "They haven't shown us any evidence that Ovitz did not follow through on a commitment."

Mr. Burkle's camp countered that Mr. Ovitz had actually made a few offers to settle.

Given the infamous multimillion-dollar build-out on A.M.G.'s Wilshire Boulevard headquarters, and the estimated $8 million worth of art that was hanging on the office walls until Mr. Ovitz removed the paintings in late May, it might seem unusual that Mr. Burkle has not filed suit to reclaim some of the money.

The close associate of Yucaipa's managing partner-who is also an acquaintance of Mr. Ovitz-said that laying back is just Mr. Burkle's style. "The greatest revenge is that Ron doesn't do anything," said the associate. "Because you expect the shoe to drop, and it doesn't; it just hangs out there. He's saying, 'You're not worth it for me.'"

Mr. Ovitz and Mr. Burkle have been acquaintances since the early 1990's, having met through political and charitable circuits. Mr. Burkle has long been active in California politics and is a frequent companion of Bill Clinton when the former President is in town. In 2000, Mr. Burkle was on the board of the UCLA Medical Center, later pledging $25 million to a $300 million Ovitz-led drive to build a new I.M. Pei–designed medical-research center. The status of Mr. Ovitz's own $25 million pledge to the effort was the subject of some controversy earlier this year, though both the university and Mr. Ovitz insist that he will fulfill it.

Not Like Mike

Eventually, Mr. Ovitz's famously exuberant salesmanship lured the low-key supermarket guy into a number of projects, but the associate of Mr. Burkle said the self-made billionaire began to resent the way in which Mr. Ovitz seemed to be trading very publicly-with bankers and the press-on Mr. Burkle's name and reputation.

According to the associate of Mr. Burkle, Mr. Ovitz first spoke to Mr. Burkle about a bid to bring a National Football League expansion team to Los Angeles on May 6, 1998. Mr. Ovitz received a tentative "maybe" as an answer, he said, but the very next day, May 7, the Los Angeles Times reported that Mr. Burkle was a potential partner. Mr. Ovitz, the associate said, had effectively roped Mr. Burkle into the deal.

The following year, as the N.F.L. bidding war dragged on, Mr. Burkle lent his Sikorsky helicopter to a group of potential investors and N.F.L. officials-lead by Mr. Ovitz-so they could do a fly-over of a potential site in Carson, Calif., for a new football stadium. To Mr. Burkle's alleged horror, when the group landed at the site, just a few miles southwest of Los Angeles, a large press conference awaited them. "Ron said, 'Don't introduce me. I want to be as low-key as possible,' recalled the associate close to Mr. Burkle. But Mr. Ovitz didn't listen. "Much to Mr. Burkle's chagrin," the source recalled, "he was introduced by Mr. Ovitz to say a few words."

Thougha spokesman for Mr. Ovitz claimed that Mr. Burkle knew full well that there would be a press conference awaiting the group, the close associate of Mr. Burkle's said the event led to a turning point in the friendship.

"It definitely soured him," he said.

That same year, Mr. Ovitz launched A.M.G. and Mr. Burkle, declining to invest directly, apparently accepted an option to own a stake in the company. Meanwhile, Mr. Burkle allegedly continued to ask for the money he felt he was owed from his other ventures with Mr. Ovitz. According to the source close to Mr. Burkle, Mr. Ovitz's remaining debt to Mr. Burkle "was understood all along."

"Ron Burkle is an easygoing guy and a very rich guy," observed a high-ranking film-industry executive, who knows both men. "He realized he made a mistake. Originally, I think the relationship was important, not the money. I would guess now the money is more important than the relationship."

Another mutual acquaintance of Messrs. Burkle and Ovitz told The Observer that Mr. Burkle remains cordial but wary with Mr. Ovitz. He also said that Mr. Burkle feels that, under the guise of friendship, Mr. Ovitz used him in his quest for post-C.A.A. credibility.

Sun Tzu & Jiujitsu

For Mr. Ovitz, it would seem like a good time to make like Mr. Burkle and stay below the radar. But that's not what has happened. According to a number of sources, Vanity Fair 's special correspondent Bryan Burrough has filed a lengthy feature on Mr. Ovitz that is slated to run in a forthcoming issue of the monthly. Though Mr. Burrough was originally assigned to write about Mr. Ovitz in light of the A.M.G./Firm episode, both companies declined to participate, according to an executive at one of the companies. But Mr. Ovitz, who did not fare well last January when he attempted to talk about A.M.G. and his controversial history in Hollywood on the Charlie Rose show, eventually agreed to speak to Mr. Burrough. A spokeswoman for the magazine declined to comment.

Mr. Ovitz's attempts at damage control regarding A.M.G. have not always taken such a traditional path. According to three former employees of A.M.G., shortly before the company's television division collapsed, Mr. Ovitz held a retreat in June 2001 at the Pacific Palisades in which he regaled employees with Chinese proverbs from Sun Tzu's Art of War . The book, which Mr. Ovitz kept handy during his reign at C.A.A, is full of ancient wisdom about how a smaller opponent can leverage power over a stronger one. At that same retreat, A.M.G. employees sat on yoga mats and watched a demonstration by jiujitsu expert Rickson Gracie.

But many in Hollywood doubt that any combination of fancy Eastern philosophies can help Mr. Ovitz now. "He probably could have saved himself after Disney," said the associate close to Mr. Burkle. "He doesn't understand the value of having people wishing you well. It's really a shame, because I don't know how he pulls it back together now."

"Some of them were rather shocked when we asked them to come up with ideas," he said, "instead of just collecting a monthly paycheck." He looked tired and antic–chain-smoking Marlboros in front of his open window at Condé Nast's 4 Times Square supertower.

The window opens onto a terrace. Mr. Golin joked that he would like to decorate it with cars up on blocks and pregnant girls, you know, the kind of thing he used to see every day in Allentown, Pa., the town that was his home until four years ago.

That is not the kind of thing that more-entrenched Condé Nast editors like Anna Wintour ( Vogue ) and Graydon Carter ( Vanity Fair ) imagine when they look out their windows. Their job, as guardians of the old Condé Nast style, is to create a mood of world-weary glamour and gaiety through the magic of magazine journalism. Mr. Golin does something quite different. He's trying to put out a funny, regular magazine for funny, regular guys all across the country. Funny and regular are not notions that have had much to do with Condé Nast.

Strangely enough, along with new Glamour editor Bonnie Fuller and incoming Mademoiselle editor Mandi Norwood, Mr. Golin is just one of three barbarians at the Condé Nast gate. Like Mr. Golin, Ms. Fuller and Ms. Norwood are refugees from the Hearst magazine empire. And at Hearst, traditional corporate virtues hold sway–things like serving readers in the heartland, achieving monstrous circulations, selling tons of ads to anyone who will pay up, even if they do look a little, you know, cheap.

Did someone bonk S.I. Newhouse Jr. on the head? It's as if he has suddenly become aware of the fact that people actually read these precious glossy objects that his minions struggle to perfect every month … that there is money to be made.

And so … enter the Hearst Three: Ms. Fuller, the woman who replaced Helen Gurley Brown as editor of Cosmopolitan and will now try to pull off the task of making Glamour more of a service-and-sex publication (toward this end, she infamously–egads!–cut the magazine's one-page "political" column); Ms. Norwood, of British Cosmopolitan , who is expected to make Mademoiselle more of a, uh, sex-and-service publication. And Mr. Golin, who worked under Ms. Fuller (no jokes, guys!) at Cosmopolitan .

Mr. Golin said he has had to ask Condé Nast editorial director James Truman to come down and look at the magazine. Meanwhile, he said, Mr. Newhouse laughs at his jokes! And when he wanted six new editorial pages, Steve Florio, the president of the company, came down in a couple of hours and gave them to him.

When asked for comment on Mr. Golin, Mr. Truman said in an e-mailed note: "I think Mark should speak for himself. But I like very much where he's going."

In many ways, the October issue of Details , is the mutant offspring of Mr. Golin's what-guys-like instincts and the fabulousness typical of Condé Nast.

Mr. Golin is sick of writers whose egos overwhelm information. "It's like the writer's fact is in your face and he's getting in the way," he said. This from an editor at the company that put the names of writers on covers.

Mr. Golin is a rewrite man; he's proud of his reputation of being able to make anything work–a job that was probably necessary given the kinds of writers he had to deal with at low-budget publications like the ones he worked for early in his career at Rodale Press, not to mention his most recent gig at the boys-and-beers magazine, Maxim , which was the American publishing success of the last year.

There on his desk is the new issue of Details . The new Details is funny, but the humor looks out of place in the context of the fashion and models and the rest of the usual Condé Nast trappings. The look of Details is meant to appeal to fabulous people, or at least to those who aspire to be fabulous. The problem here is that fabulous people aren't funny. They have no reason to be. And here's Mr. Golin, sticking in his jokes.

There are no famous writers in the new issue; he's having some trouble finding the writers he needs and the editors who'll do his bidding. He's watching the editors he has closely. "You can find out a lot about a person on how they write a caption," he said.

Editor Peter Potterfield and writer Dave Hahn, who work for a Seattle-based Web site called Mountainzone.com, have accused veteran journalist Bryan Burrough of ripping them off for an article he wrote in the September issue of Vanity Fair .

"Some of the nicest parts of his story came from Dave Hahn's dispatches," said Mr. Potterfield, who also serves as Mountainzone.com's publisher.

The piece by Mr. Burrough was one those Vanity Fair articles that leaps back through the mists of time to an era when men and women were rich, witty, tragic and British. This particular Vanity Fair flashback special concerned 1920's British adventurer George Mallory and explored the question of whether or not he was the first to reach the summit of Mt. Everest.

Dave Hahn explored the same thing back in May and he climbed Mt. Everest to do it, in an expedition sponsored by Mountainzone.com, the BBC and Nova -WGBH. During the climb, Mr. Hahn posted his observations on the Mountainzone.com site. When he returned to Katmandu after his climb, Mr. Burrough was lying in wait at the press conference.

"He approached us about interviewing us for an article he wanted to write," Mr. Hahn recalled. "He was very complimentary when I met him, said he enjoyed my dispatches. That was nice; I mean, I was impressed by him, finding out that he had written Barbarians at the Gate ."

Mr. Burrough does compliment Mr. Hahn's storytelling ability in his Vanity Fair piece, mentioning the dispatches but not the name of the Web site. Nonetheless, Mr. Hahn was surprised to find several paragraphs that he felt virtually duplicated what he had written without credit. Let's look at a Hahn dispatch and the Burrough paragraph that stemmed from it.

Mr. Hahn: "The first rib kick got me moving, and that made the little puddle of super cool condensation in my oxygen mask roll out into the opening of my down suit and find my exposed neck. That was enough to get me sitting up quick. I thanked Andy for the kick and lit the hanging stove. I'd kept my radio in a chest pocket to keep it functional against the cold, and now I fired it up as well. Conrad answered my call immediately. He and Jake and Tap were in our alternative Camp V and that tent was about 100 linear feet away on its own precariously perched ledge …"

Now to Mr. Burrough: "A sharp kick in the ribs from his tentmate, Andy Poliz, woke Dave Hahn around 3 in the morning. Half asleep, Hahn rolled over, and a trickle of super-cooled condensation inside his oxygen mask dribbled down to his exposed neck, instantly jarring him fully awake. Sitting up, he grabbed his radio microphone and hailed Conrad Anker and the others in their tent, a hundred feet away. It was time to get going."

Vanity Fair editor Douglas Stumpf, speaking on Mr. Burrough's behalf, chalked the similarities up to Mr. Burrough's interview with Mr. Hahn. "People, when they give an account, they generally use the same words," he said. "If you get a kick in the ribs, you get a kick in the ribs."

"He definitely didn't get it from the interview," insisted Mr. Hahn. "The interview didn't cover that stuff. If you read the dispatch, it's basically there for a couple of paragraphs." Lobbing back, Mr. Stumpf said, "People often don't remember what they say to reporters."

Mr. Hahn believes Mr. Burrough felt free to take what he needed from his dispatches simply because they first appeared on the Web: "I suppose that's the way people view Internet journalism," he said. "They probably wouldn't do that if I had written that in a newspaper article or a magazine."

The New York Post has a new Ray Kerrison, and his name is Rod Dreher. Mr. Dreher, now the paper's movie reviewer, sounded happy to be changing beats. "When Ray retired, New Yorkers lost their only pro-life newspaper columnist, and now they'll have one," he said. Mr. Dreher will write his new column three times a week starting Oct. 20.

So who'll be the new movie critic? Lou Lumenick, the man now serving as the Post 's metro editor. Mr. Lumenick used to write film reviews for The Bergen Record . "It was his first love. Being metro editor is a thankless job, so he asked to be moved," said Post managing editor Stuart Marques.

The next Post metro editor will be John Mancini, a former deputy managing editor at the tabloid who, since 1997, has been the editor in chief of the Long Island Voice . Mr. Mancini has a reputation as a smart hard-news guy.