Greg Bautzer continued to play the role of the glamorous bachelor well into his sixties. For exercise he walked around the Franklin Canyon reservoir or played a game of early-morning tennis, after which he would walk to the Beverly Hills Hotel and have breakfast in the Polo Lounge. Bautzer continued to impress women, too. He had not lost his sex appeal.
For a young agent like Michael Levy, seeing Bautzer operate was an eye opener: “I was with him many times when he was with women. He listened to them and he responded. They loved him for it. And you would not believe how women are attracted to power. He would go into the Racquet Club, and women—young women, married women, movie actresses—would come over and sit at the table. Natalie Wood came running across the room to hug and kiss him. I knew she was a client, but it was a different kind of hugging and kissing. And he was a fabulous dancer. He would walk up to a woman—it didn’t matter who she was with—and he would ask her to dance. You would watch these two people and you knew that from the time he took her to the dance floor to the time he sat her back in the chair he had captivated her. Because he was a total gentleman.”
Though still legally married to Dana Wynter, they were separated and free to see others. In the late 1960s, Silver Screen magazine had linked Bautzer with actress Diahann Carroll in a lengthy tabloid article entitled “How a White Millionaire Won Diahann.” A talented and beautiful actress, Carroll was the first African American woman to star in a television series based entirely on her character; every week between 1968 and 1971, Julia followed the story of a widowed nurse struggling to raise a young child. The magazine article intimated that the couple had become involved after Carroll’s relationship with actor Sidney Poitier ended. At the time, interracial dating was still unusual. Neither Bautzer nor Carroll ever confirmed the relationship, but they were frequently spotted together in Los Angeles and Las Vegas. Bautzer also dated model Nancy Cuffman. She accompanied him to events like Swifty Lazar’s September 1969 Oscar party, and they mingled with stars like Lucille Ball, Jack Benny, Kirk Douglas, John Huston, and Gene Kelly. The lissome lass and the silver-haired attorney made a striking couple, but that was the extent of it. After a short while they drifted apart.
In 1972, Bautzer started dating the woman who would become his fourth and final wife. Niki Schenck Dantine was a long-legged beauty with flowing red hair. She was Hollywood royalty. Her father was Nick Schenck, chairman of Loew’s, which owned MGM in its glory years. Her mother was Pansy Wilcox, a classical singer who performed each week on the WHN radio station in New York City. At the time Niki and Bautzer became involved, she was thirty-eight and separated from actor Helmut Dantine, with whom she had three children. Niki had first seen Bautzer when she was a teenager. She watched him play tennis on her uncle Joe’s court and fell in love. In the years since, she had continued to watch him. After she separated from Dantine, their paths crossed.
Bautzer’s first recorded date with Niki was on New Year’s Eve 1972 at the wedding of actor Laurence Harvey and model Pauline Stone. It took place at the home of novelist Harold Robbins, and Bautzer reportedly tried to push Niki into a small boat in the pool. For the next few years, Bautzer and Niki were seen at various events: Tony Martin’s opening at the Century Plaza Hotel; the fifth annual pre–Academy Award dinner at the Bistro; and at a benefit for autistic children by SHARE (Share Happily And Reap Endlessly), which was Niki’s favorite charity. In May 1974, they attended the premiere of That’s Entertainment, and Bautzer watched his Hollywood life flash before his eyes in two hours of MGM film clips: Joan Crawford, Ginger Rogers, Clark Gable, and so many others he had known. The film presented them as quaint relics of the studio’s glorious past.
Bautzer was not a relic; he still had the energy of a twenty-one-year-old and was more powerful in the industry than he had ever been. But something was eating at him. In 1975, former talent agent Dick Dorso opened a men’s shop on Camden Drive and renewed his friendship with Bautzer, who patronized the store and brought in customers. “He was a loyal friend,” said Dorso. “But he had deteriorated. He was drinking heavily and seemed to be set on self-destruction.” Dana Wynter occasionally talked to him. “Greg, aren’t you happy?” she asked. “You’ve got everything. You’ve got success, you’ve got your health, you’ve got money, and you’ve got looks. Why aren’t you happy?”
In 1979, Bautzer had a heart attack and was placed in intensive care. Niki took care of him. “No one ever received the tender care that Niki gave him,” recalled Herbert Maass. “When he got out of the hospital, Niki insisted that he stop drinking. So did the doctors.” So did numerous friends. “Once in a while I would get up the courage to talk to him about his drinking,” said Dorso. “I would always start by saying: ‘We who love you want you to stop drinking.’ He would sit there, nodding in agreement.” Bautzer did make token efforts to quit both drinking and smoking. “He tried to quit when he had his first heart attack,” said son Mark. “Then he recovered, so he thought, ‘Well, I kicked the heart attack, so I can get back on the booze.’”
Bautzer’s friends, now gravely concerned, intervened. This impressed him, and he vowed to give up hard liquor. From then on he would only drink wine. Surely that could not hurt. “But he just doubled up on the wine,” said Mark. “He would drink two bottles of wine. You wouldn’t be able to tell he was drunk. But he’d have just one more glass, and that would put him over the edge.”
Bautzer’s relationship with Niki was serious, but the couple decided not to consider marriage until after their children were grown. Bautzer was also still legally married to Dana Wynter, whom he would not divorce until 1981. Niki encouraged him to live with his son in a home on Summit Ridge Drive in order to heal their relationship and be a positive influence on Mark’s life. Now past seventy, Bautzer was sporting a mustache and big dark glasses. He could no longer pretend that he was the dashing swain of years gone by. “He didn’t want to age,” said Mark. “He was scared to death of death. That was obvious. It somehow belittled his virility…. He was actively at war with the aging process.”
In 1983, Bautzer entered the hospital and underwent triple bypass surgery. Niki stayed by his side the whole time. By 1984, he and Niki had been together more than ten years. He wanted to take care of her and protect her—and so they decided to marry. The wedding took place in early October aboard Kirk Kerkorian’s jet over international waters between Marbella and London. Guests included Bobby Altman, Baron von Thyssen, and Frank Rothman. Judge Marianna Pfaelzer, a former Bautzer law partner, officiated the vows. Judge Pfaelzer later hosted a party at her home so that another judge could perform a second wedding ceremony to avoid any doubt about the validity of the airborne one.
Upon returning to Los Angeles, Bautzer was intent on giving up drinking and tried to limit himself to one glass of wine a day. Bautzer still did the things he loved. He continued to represent clients like Kirk Kerkorian and Gene Scott. Columnist James Bacon noticed the atypical glass of wine one day at the Bistro. “I’m an alcoholic,” Bautzer told him. “That’s why I drink white wine.” But his battle with the bottle was not entirely successful. It was an open secret that he found ways to have more than just one glass. He conspired with restaurateur Wolfgang Puck and maître d’ Bernard Erpicum to bring him a glass of wine whenever he went to the men’s room at Spago restaurant. At the new Bistro Gardens restaurant, he used another method. “Bring me a cappuccino,” he said to the waiter as Niki watched him out of the corner of her eye. “But no booze in it.” The beverage was delivered. He tasted it and pronounced it safe to drink. One time, he grimaced after tasting it. “This cappuccino has booze in it,” he said to the waiter. “I said no booze.” The waiter—who was new—hurried back to the bartender, who explained to him that “No booze” was code for “Put two shots of Scotch in it.” The bartender spiked the cappuccino and sent it back. Still, it was undeniable that he drank less when he was hiding his intake, and the limitations he maintained had a positive effect on his health. Eventually, he managed to stop drinking altogether.
Bautzer never stopped battling, though. In 1987, he was visiting the Bel-Air Hotel. While walking across a small bridge, he encountered a younger man coming from the other direction. The man saw that Bautzer was weaving so he stepped to the left to let him pass. Bautzer took umbrage at this and also stepped to the left. The man moved to the right. So did Bautzer. “You got a beef with me, Dad?” said Bautzer in a threatening tone of voice. “What’s your beef, Dad?” The man was not interested in continuing the conversation. He put his hands under Bautzer’s arms, picked him up, and dumped him in a bed of ferns. After the man left, Bautzer dusted himself off and told his son that he had been mugged. Mark investigated. “My dad was mugged,” he told a valet. “Aren’t you guys looking out for him?”
“Mugged?” said the valet, laughing. “Your dad was talking when he should have been listening!”
Near the end of his life, Bautzer seemed to gain more control. One of the last social engagements he attended was at the Palos Verdes home of William Keischnick, CEO of Arco. When Bautzer arrived, some guests were apprehensive. “I hope he behaves himself,” said Roz Rogers, wife of Henry Rogers. To everyone’s relief, Bautzer did behave himself, charming all who were present.
“It’s obvious that all he needed was the right woman in his life,” remarked Roz at the end of the evening. “As you can see, Niki is the right woman.”
October 26, 1987, was a Monday morning. Bautzer was getting ready to go to the office. Niki was helping him. While he was dressing, he suffered a fatal heart attack. He was seventy-six. The Los Angeles Times reported tributes from the city’s most prominent legal figures. “He was a hell of a guy,” said Frank Rothman. “If you ever needed a friend to back you up in a fight, there was a guy you wanted.” Many recalled how Bautzer loved his work. “He had an enthusiasm for the practice of law at an age when most people aren’t alive,” said attorney Howard Weitzman, who had joined Bautzer’s firm the previous year. “He was a trial lawyer through and through.” Judge Barbara Lee Burke told a story about Bautzer’s recent appearance in her courtroom. “He was so courtly and so charming,” said Burke. “We had a squeaky door. During a break one day he went out and got a can of oil to fix it. After the trial he called me up and invited me out to lunch. We got to be friends. He was such an exceptional person. A magical person. This strong, tough man. But also so kindly.”
Services were held at Beverly Hills Presbyterian Church on Thursday, October 29. Eulogies were given by Reverend Gene Scott, Thomas Kuchel, Paul MacNamara, and Willie Brown. Scott spoke of how he and Bautzer had had conversations about theology, which Scott thought guaranteed his entrance into Heaven. Brown spoke of how Bautzer befriended people from all walks of life. Kuchel touched upon Bautzer’s early days at USC and, as a friend of sixty years, opined that Bautzer’s pluses far outweighed his minuses. MacNamara joked that Bautzer had gotten into a fight three weeks earlier on Melrose Avenue.
Bautzer’s body was interred in a crypt at Westwood Memorial Park, hardly one mile from his office in Century City. The list of pallbearers was impressive. It included Alexander Haig, Kirk Kerkorian, Sidney Korshak, Jerry Perenchio, Cubby Broccoli, Patty Glaser, and Lew Wasserman. Honorary pallbearers included such august names as Army Archerd, Tom Bradley, David Brown, Governor Pat Brown, Sammy Cahn, Arthur Cohn, Warren Cowan, Kirk Douglas, Freddie Fields, Beldon Katleman, Tony Martin, Jean Negulesco, Frank Sinatra, Jack Valenti, and Richard Zanuck. On his tomb Niki placed the sentiment AS LONG AS MEMORY LIVES, SO WILL MY LOVE.
In his last will and testament, Bautzer made provisions for a party to be thrown for his friends. On January 5, 1988, Bobby Altman, Mark Bautzer, and Niki Bautzer hosted a huge party at the Bistro. Two hundred and fifty friends attended. Among them were Kirk Douglas, Sidney Poitier, Lew Wasserman, Milton Berle, Swifty Lazar, and Sherry Lansing. Blowup photos showing Bautzer throughout his years in Hollywood were displayed as if he were a movie star. To those who knew him, he was that—and much more.