“It was one big love fest.” says cinematographer Barry Markowitz, describing the mood at the home of Rob and Michele Reiner in Brentwood, the neighborhood where the lovers would soon be found stabbed to death.
Markowitz, a longtime friend and colleague of Rob’s, had been invited to stay with the family during his trip to town for the November 14 premiere of “The Perfect Gamble.” “You’re staying here. You’re not going to no hotel. There’s no fridge, good toilet paper, no family,” Rob joked, as is characteristic of a Reiner. For five evenings, Markowitz was involved in dinners that included the entire family, who were all together without Jake, who was away on a work assignment, along with Rob, his wife, Michele, and kids Nick, Romy, and his son Jake.
Nick was 32 at the time. Nick had been very upfront about his struggles with addiction, but he appeared to be on the upswing while Markowitz was visiting. He was playing tennis, playing hoops, getting things done, just being sociable. ‘He looked great,’ Markowitz says. ‘They have dinner together, old school style. Lots of love, always lots of love.’ There was never the possibility that something was at risk. “I slept in the same house as Nick. There was never a thought… that Rob was in peril,” he remembered.
The Reiners had always been committed to helping Nick. In fact, they had enrolled him into top-quality rehabilitation facilities all these years – 17 attempts, according to his own estimate. Then, there had been his homelessness and relapse episodes. But it was only when working on his semi-autobiographic film, “Being Charlie,” that Rob, as quoted on NPR, got “the most satisfying creative experience” because it was a chance to confront tough truths with Nick. Then, there was Michele, who, according to Markowitz, was “the kingpin… the rock.”
But sometimes addiction and mental illness can be unpredictable. Psychotherapists observe that even within the most stable-seeming individuals, things can change in sudden, drastic ways. “You can do all the right things, and addiction can be really powerful,” according to addiction specialists. “If you could love someone into sobriety… we’d have a lot fewer clients,” commented Zac Jones of Beit T’Shuvah.
The Reiner tragedy also points to a hard truth: Mental illness can make a person’s actions and perceptions irrational and unpredictable. “When somebody is mentally disturbed, you don’t need a reason. There’s no rhyme or reason,” said Markowitz. What might look like a well-behaved dinner guest and a responsible brother may actually be a person in great pain.
For family members, the aftermath of sudden and violent loss is a maze of grief. It was a complete loss but “utter loss” on several different levels, says therapist Stephanie Sarkis: “Loss of the victims, the family unit itself, and the loss of what you thought the perpetrator was.” Friends such as Markowitz are left with questions they can’t answer and memories that seem surreal. “There was so much love there, and it doesn’t jive,” he said.
The shock waves extend outside the immediate family. Fans who were raised on “All in the Family” or who loved movies such as “When Harry Met Sally” feel a connection to the work of Rob and Michele. As Meg Ryan suggested, “I have to believe that their story will not end with this impossible tragedy… they would want that to be hopeful and humane.”
In the quiet hours, those who know the Reiners look back upon the image of the family as they have come to know it: surrounded at the dinner table, laughter pouring into the night air, even as they come face to face with the awful fact that love, no matter how potent, cannot always shield the soul from the black threads of illness.
