Barry Diller has one request before settling in on his living room sofa for a two-and-a-half-hour interview about the juicy revelations in his new tell-all memoir, Who Knew. Dont write about my house, he says. Dont describe the decor.

Photographed by Daniel Prakopcyk Consider it done. No mention here of the serene, unostentatious Beverly Hills mansion tucked behind a gate, the site of his annual Oscar party. Not a word about the furnishings, some of them chosen by his late friend Sandy Gallin the manager to Michael Jackson and Dolly Parton and charter member of what Mike Ovitz once dickishly derided as the velvet mafia. Color schemes? Fabric choices? Forget it. This is a safe space. Everything else, though, is fair game. Dillers marriage to Diane von Furstenberg. His romantic entanglements with men over the years. His close alliances and bitter battles with Hollywood legends from David Geffen and Katharine Hepburn to Marvin Davis and Rupert Murdoch. And his bracing assessment of the current state of the entertainment industry which he believes is being dismantled by a generation of dictatorial tech bros who, as he puts it, have never actually made anything.

Dillers new book Courtesy of Simon Schuster Dillers impact on Hollywood is so vast and enduring its sometimes easy to take for granted. As a young exec at ABC during the 1970s, he invented the Movie of the Week, giving a greenlight to a then-unknown Steven Spielberg for Duel, the directors very first feature-length film. By 37, Diller was chairman and CEO of Paramount Pictures, where he greenlit Beverly Hills Cop, Flashdance, Terms of Endearment, Saturday Night Fever and Raiders of the Lost Ark. Ten years later, he was launching the Fox network with The Simpsons, Married With Children and 21 Jump Street, single-handedly creating a rival to the top three networks in just a few short years.

As for his private life, its long been the subject of whispers and blind items especially in the Page Six era, when rumors swirled about close mentorships with a parade of young, handsome men (including, at one point, Johnny Carsons stepson). Diller, in the past, has always let the gossip float where it may. But today, at 83, with his memoir just hitting bookstores, hes cracking open the door more than usual. Indeed, the only secrets hes apparently keeping these days are his decorating choices.

Diller was photographed May6 at his Beverly Hills home. Photographed by Daniel Prakopcyk Youve produced movies, television shows, Broadway musicals, built tech companies, run networks and now youve written a memoir. Why now?

Honestly, I still dont entirely know. I didnt set out thinking, I must publish this. For a while, I figured maybe it wouldnt ever see the light of day. Id written most of it, and part of me thought, Well, maybe after Im dead someone will publish it. But then I realized then it wont really be me publishing it, will it?

Was there a sense that, as personal as the book is, it also had to be kind of impersonal like you were telling your story without quite becoming the story?

Its the first time Ive ever been the product, instead of just working on one. And, yes, that felt daunting. Ive spent my whole life crafting narratives for other people movies, shows, companies. But this? Writing my own? That was a different kind of exposure. And the truth is, I just thought it was a good story. Not a how-to business memoir, not a legacy statement. Just a good tale if I could tell it right and tell it true. And I know something about good stories.

How does one start cataloguing a whole life? Did you keep journals?

No, I had no journals, no diaries. But I had a public life. Which helped. And decades of calendars dense, sprawling, sometimes maddening calendars. I rarely even looked at them. Mostly, I just sat down and vomited it all onto the page. That was Tina Browns advice, actually. Just vomit it out, then go back and write. I cant remember if it was Tina or someone else who told me, You dont revise, you reveal. Which is bullshit, of course, but charming bullshit. Still, it gave me permission to keep going.

And once you did start writing?

I found I remembered far more than I expected to. Once I started writing, whole scenes and details just unspooled. Im sure I didnt invent anything I dont think Im capable of that kind of fiction. But theres something strange about memory. Ask me what I remember, and Id say, Nothing. But start writing, and boom, it all comes flooding back.

The book captures a version of Hollywood thats almost mythic now. You write about these operatic, over-the-top characters Robert Evans, Marvin Davis who make their modern equivalents seem anemic. Do you feel nostalgic for that time?

It certainly was a time of more flamboyance. The business required big personalities, extremes, people who operated without restraint. That used to be the fun and the engine of entertainment. Now its different. Everyone is more cautious and conformist. Worried about being canceled or sued. The rough edges have been sanded off. Weve gone from a town to a spreadsheet. And obviously that cant help but impact the creative output as well.

You mean because Hollywood is now run by tech companies?

Thats part of it. Netflix, Amazon, Apple they control the game. But they dont have any real roots in this community. They didnt grow up yearning for Hollywood. They dont care about its history, its mythology. Their interests are driven by entirely different models. Amazon doesnt care if your movie is good they care if it helps keep people subscribed to Prime and buying socks. Not exactly a recipe for greatness.

Do you think that true of Netflix as well?

Netflix wont even tell you how many people watched your movie. Why? Because they dont want you to know. Their business is algorithmic. They care about satisfaction across a vast catalog. Your individual film? Its just another tile in the grid.

So how do you make something that lasts in this environment?

Thats the problem. Great work doesnt sit in the culture anymore. Its gone in a flash. One hand clapping in a forest. We used to have shows that 50 million people watched on the same night. Now? If something gets 7 million, its a smash hit. Theres just too much. Too many options, too much noise. And streaming while miraculous in its own way has fractured everything.

With Rupert Murdoch at the ShoWest convention in LasVegas in 1991 Ron Galella, Ltd./Ron Galella Collection/Getty Images Is that why you got out of the movie business?

We stopped producing movies a couple of years ago. If I were starting today, I dont think Id do it. Its not about the breadth of the audience, its about the sense that you were part of something. That your work had cultural gravity. Thats hard to feel now. The community is gone.

Is it nostalgia? Or do you really believe the system was better?

Its not about better or worse. Its about ethos. There used to be a kind of inbred, incestuous quality to Hollywood that was actually good. It breathed its own air. It had a town feeling. Now its an outpost of the cloud.

What about the audience? Does it care anymore?

Exactly. Thats the biggest loss. We used to make movies or TV shows and feel the impact. People talked about it. It lingered. Now things drop on a streaming service, maybe trend for a weekend, then disappear.

Are you still watching new stuff?

Of course. I consume a lot. I liked the first few episodes of Your Friends and Neighbors with Jon Hamm, then it sort of fell apart. Im watching MobLand now Helen Mirren is fantastic, and even Pierce Brosnan, whom I never thought much of, is great in it. But mostly, I feel like Ive seen everything before. Its hard to surprise me. But Im 83!

You left Hollywood when it was still riding high. These days a lot of people seem to be writing it off. Do you share in that pessimism?

I dont think Hollywood studios will go out of existence. I think theyll be smaller operations than they have been in the past. But their days of dominating media have passed, and Hollywood will never recover from that. Hollywood is now under the dictatorial realm of the technology companies.

A briefcase gifted to Diller by von Furstenberg in 1976 that he still uses. Courtesy of Subject Youve been pretty critical of the tech overlords impact on Hollywood. What dont they get about entertainment?

Theyre different. Their brains are trained differently. Tech is binary. Ones and zeros. You have these gigantic companies now where the person at the top has never actually made anything. Its astonishing. Theyre overseeing culture without ever having touched it. Its a system designed for predictability and efficiency which is the opposite of creative work. Thats the tension. Now, someone like Steve Jobs he was an artist. An Edison. And those people are rare. I actually think Bezos is closer to Jobs than most people give him credit for. Hes got enormous wisdom. But most of the others are pretty flat.

What about Musk?

Musk is will. Pure, brute will. A willful machine. I admire what hes achieved, but its execution, not imagination. He can build the car, sure. But its not artistry.

You mentioned in the book that you never use data or research to guide your creative decisions. Why is that?

Completely true. Data cant predict anything meaningful in creative work. It cant tell you whether somethings a good idea or a bad one. It cant tell you if a performance is brilliant or flat. You know, back in the day we had all those dial-test screenings people turning a knob when they liked something or didnt. Utter nonsense. Garbage in, garbage out. You have to trust your gut. Thats the only thing that works. Most people are so insecure about keeping their jobs that they need data to justify their every decision. Its like, dont blame me, blame the data! I prefer to go with my gut.

Has your gut ever steered you wrong?

Oh, endlessly. Of course. Ive backed plenty of turkeys. But the process is still better than anything else I know. Its how Ive always made decisions whether its a show, a movie or even an ad campaign. I remember recently we were casting a voice for a new Hotels.com campaign. We tested four options, and the worst, whiniest voice tested highest. I said, Nope. Were going with the one that actually sounds right. And we did. Because your ear knows better than a damn focus group.

You write in the book about keeping your instincts clean. What does that mean?

It means resisting cynicism. Cynicism corrodes instinct. The older you get, the more it creeps in. You start thinking you know too much, that youve seen it all before. You lose your navet and thats a killer. Ive always tried to hold on to mine maybe way past the expiration date. But its what keeps your instincts sharp.

With a flock of swans (from left) Kelly Rector, Dolly Parton, Sandy Gallin, Diane von Furstenberg, Fran Lebowitz and Bianca Jagger at the Spring 1994 CalvinKlein Showat NYCs Bryant Park. Thomas Iannaccone/WWD/Penske Media You also say you have never been motivated by money which is a pretty surprising claim from a billionaire.

I didnt grow up worrying about money. So it was never a motivating factor. Ive never made a single decision based on it. And once you have a certain amount unless you have truly grotesque tastes what else do you need? People ask, Why keep going after the first billion? Its not about that. For me, all I ever wanted was to matter.

To be seen?

Exactly. To be part of something, to leave a mark. Thats what drives most people in this business, whether they admit it or not.

At one point, you made a bid to buy Shari Redstones company. What would you have done with Paramount had you succeeded?

Well, it would have been a big pain in the ass. As Ive said, I bid on it more out of duty than desire. Duty in the sense that Paramount had been two big chapters of my life. And this would have been the third chapter. So it would have been a kind of closing of a circle. Also, I believed that if I did get control of it, I knew what needed to be done. I cant articulate what that is because that would be inappropriate. Part of it, though, wouldve been leadership. Ive always believed hiring an outside CEO is basically an admission of failure. Ideally, you grow people inside the company people who marinate in its culture. You can interview someone for a hundred hours and still not know how theyll function in your world. But when the sale became an auction, I said, Im not going to win against someone with a vastly better balance sheet. And I thought, Do you really want to do this? In the end, I said, No, I really dont.

With Sumner Redstone Courtesy of Subject Theres a moment in the book where you mention how when you were running the company, a Paramount executive made gay jokes in front of you. That hit me because it felt like even at the top, you still had to tolerate slights like that.

Yeah, I still remember that. That sort of casual cruelty. I wasnt closeted I just never declared. And yet the reaction to that New York Magazine excerpt was wild. Suddenly Im coming out. At my age! Diane, my wife, and I laughed about it. It was absurd. The door was always open. If I was in a closet, it was made of glass and full of light.

Obviously, the reaction to your book shows that some people are not buying that. But the pain of growing up when you couldnt be open about it thats real. And you write about that with a lot of grace.

Thank you. People can say what they want. I didnt want to live a hypocritical life. That was the main thing. So I just lived as I lived. But yes, of course it left a mark. Any minority experience does. Thats universal.

You mention in the book that you wish you had been public about it earlier

I do wish that I had made a declaration. I wasnt ever lying. Ive never pretended anything. I never hid. People in my circle knew about my life with both men and with Diane. The only thing I didnt do was make a declaration. I chose not to for a lot of complicated reasons.

With then-girlfriend von Furstenberg at Studio 54 in 1978 Robin Platzer/Getty Images Would things have been different if you had made that declaration earlier?

Maybe. Maybe not. I was never hiding. But I didnt issue a press release either. And yes, there were moments, especially early in my career, when I was aware of how people might react. But in practical terms, it didnt hold me back.

Except maybe emotionally.

Yes. That part is true. The internal part the shame, the concealment that leaves a mark. And thats why I wrote about it.

What about the Velvet Mafia stuff? Did that ever exist?

Nonsense. That was a straight-man fantasy this idea of some powerful gay cabal running the business. We didnt have anything in common except sexuality. It was projection. Pure and simple.

Overall, do you think things have changed for the better?

Oh, absolutely. Theres still progress to be made, but the idea of coming out in the old sense its mostly obsolete now. Young people may still struggle, but weve come so far. And that momentum cant be stopped, no matter whos in office.

As a child growing up in Beverly Hills Courtesy of Subject Was there ever a moment when your family acknowledged your success or this part of your life?

No, certainly not my brother. And with my parents, the relationship was formal. Loving, yes, but not in any way that was rich with texture. They enjoyed my success, I think, probably more than I did, though they never really told me.

You still own a lot of media, including People magazine and The Daily Beast. Are you optimistic about the future of that side of the business?

Actually, yes. Our print and digital publishing business is performing better than any of the big players better than Cond Nast, better than Hearst. Weve invested in the brands. We believe in them. AI is a threat to everything, of course, but a strong brand is still a defense. Its not just defense it can be offense, too.

The Daily Beast has been a bit of a money pit, though.

(Laughs.) Oh, for my sins, yes. Ive poured stupid money into that thing, going back to the Tina Brown days. At one point, we lost $120 million. But I finally said, Enough. We were about to sell it then Ben Sherwood and Joanna Coles came to me with a plan. I said, OK, one last gasp. And you know what? They turned it around. Its now profitable. Shockingly.

Weve seen AI really eat into the traffic and relevance of a lot of media brands in recent years. What kind of defense does the media have against that?

When we bought Meredith and inherited sites like About.com, we applied a very specific playbook. We reorganized those brands, made them efficient, invested in their identities. Thats what matters identity. Thats our hedge against AI, which I do see as an existential threat.

And People? Its had a bumpy ride in recent years.

Its doing well now. But it was on the edge, no question. What were doing right is focusing on what makes the brand matter. We invest in that its editorial quality, its visual identity, its authority. You cant out-AI a robot. But you can stand for something human. Thats our strategy.

With Calvin Klein (center) and Doug Cloutier in Malibu. Courtesy of Subject Beyond media, what are the parts of IAC that might surprise people?

Most people dont realize that a huge chunk of our business is home services Angi, Handy, that kind of thing. Its not glamorous, but it works. Its consistent. It funds the riskier stuff.

You mentioned that youve never been the product before. With this book, you, Barry Diller, are definitely the product. Whats it been like for you?

Appalling. (Laughs.) Honestly, I hated it. Ive spent my whole life behind the curtain, shaping other peoples narratives. Theres a cost to never shaping your own. But I never wanted to be on the marquee. So doing press, talking about myself its been excruciating. But I thought the story was worth telling. And I thought it might be useful to some people. I just didnt want to write a heres how I made it business book. That didnt interest me. I wanted to tell a story.

Whats the biggest surprise thats come from sharing that story?

The reaction to the so-called coming out. That people fixated on that, like it was some seismic revelation. That felt very strange to me. But I suppose people like clarity and declarations. They want the label. And the media loves a headline.

With Paramount founder Adolph Zukor (center, age 102) and Bob Evans Courtesy of Subject Youve spent your career making things happen building empires, companies, brands. Day to day, whats the impulse that keeps you going?

I like to work. Its that simple. I like solving problems. I like building. Even when Im not the youngest guy in the room anymore, that impulse hasnt changed. But at a certain age, you stop thinking about conquest and start thinking about stewardship. Every day, I get up and ask, Whats left to make better?

At 83, do you think the best parts of your life are behind you?

Not at all. The best parts are always ahead if you keep moving. If you stay curious. If you resist cynicism. I still wake up with ideas. Thats enough.

So, retirement ?

Never, never, never. No, never.

What would you like to be the headline of your Times obituary?

Barry Diller is done. (Laughs.)

This story appeared in the May 21 issue of The Hollywood Reporter magazine. Click here to subscribe.