To Live & Divorce in L.A.

"I was involved in a case where the couple spent something like $200,000 litigating the issue of, 'What is the value of the use of a private jet?'" recalls Soodik. "The wife said, 'I need to be able to use the private jet,' and the judge thought he was being very smart and diplomatic and he said, 'Okay, anytime you want to travel, your husband will have to buy out all of first class so that you feel that you're in a private jet.' She looked at him and said, 'But your honor, it's not the same. Commercial airlines don't leave when I want to leave.'"

Though take-no-prisoners private detectives, like Anthony Pellicano and Gavin de Becker, are not unique to L.A. divorces, the focus of their prying is different, mostly because California is a no-fault state. "It's not about who slept with whom, because that's irrelevant under no-fault," says Levin. "It's about, how much money do you really have?" A P.I. is more likely to spend his time chasing paper trails than scanning through stolen sex tapes.

The social fallout from a divorce can be much harder-hitting in L.A. than other places. It may be a big city, but it's dominated by one business, so there isn't necessarily room for two exes. The less powerful ex loses big, and one of the losses is often faith in the meaning of friendship. "Even if both people are stars, it still becomes about, 'Who do I want at my dinner party, him or her?'" says Levin. Spouses with no status in the Industry outside their marriage are almost inevitably shut out. "What's really sad is when people call a restaurant or something and say, 'I'm the former Mrs. So and So,' and use the other person's first and last name. It's like, where's your identity?"

Of all the quirks and wrinkles that make divorce in L.A. different from Anywhere Else, U.S.A., the most significant, by far, is the fishbowl factor. In Hollywood, a divorce is not just between you and your lying, cheating, insensitive spouse. It's between you, your lying, cheating, insensitive spouse and "Entertainment Tonight." "The divorces are often more difficult because of the added stress and strain of the publicity," says Wasser. That's why Tom Cruise and Nicole Kidman, for example, settled privately rather than air their differences in a public courtroom. "That case started to get a little bit ugly," observes Levin, "and then I think everybody realized, 'Wow, look at the road we're going down,' and they made it amicable and private and they served everybody well by doing that. If the client doesn't look good at the end of the divorce, regardless of how good the financial settlement is, the lawyer has failed. It's not just about what happens in court. It's what happens in the court of public opinion."

"People sometimes don't use information that would be helpful to them because they know it's going to be in the public eye," says Soodik. "Say you're the non-Hollywood person and you want to bring something up that's going to hurt your spouse's career. Well, you have to think twice about it because that can affect your support."

Concern with appearances also takes subtler forms. Mr. Y, a regular on his first hit series when his divorce went through, had his show canceled a few years later, and now, though he's hardly worked since, his support payments are still based on his previous TV-star salary. "You can always go in to modify your payment," says Soodik, "but in L.A., you don't want to say, 'I don't think that I'm going to make that kind of money again,' because that's not the Hollywood attitude." Image consciousness is so much a part of life in Los Angeles that this thinking extends beyond strictly "Entertainment Tonight" couples, though it lessens the further you go from the limelight.

Given the legal and PR tightrope they must constantly traverse, it is no wonder the top Los Angeles divorce lawyers make anywhere from $500 to $800 an hour. Those most closely associated with Hollywood divorces take on almost mythological status, with nicknames like the Gunslinger, the Stealth Lawyer and the Darth Vader of Hollywood. "Being the best divorce lawyer in New York is like being the best devil in hell," divorced publishing maven Judith Regan quipped, and though some may believe the same of Los Angeles split-brokers, Levin maintains that, at the very top, the opposite is true. "There are some family law lawyers who will kind of keep the fight going to make more money," he observes, "but when you talk about the lawyers who represent celebrities, it's the opposite. If you bleed a client dry, that person can trash you in Hollywood and it takes about four of those people to ruin your practice."

Perhaps the most surprising thing to note about divorcing in L.A. is the fact that there is such a thing as house calls. "If somebody is seen coming to my office, it can end up in the National Enquirer," says Soodik, "so I more often go to them, which I have to say is fun because you get to see their house." If, however, you are not famous and your home décor is pedestrian, this aspect of L.A. divorce may not apply to you.

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