The Friday Afternoon Club: A Family Memoir

A few nights after Domonique’s death, while Alex was still in Los Angeles, he experienced a vision of Dominique. Alex had been staying in the pool house that Dominique lived in when she was at Lenny’s, and he awoke one night to see Dominique sitting on the edge of his bed, assuring him that she was fine but urging him to be strong. Alex shared this with Griffin, who didn’t scoff at the experience; instead, he visited a psychic himself, hoping for a similar kind of closure. The psychic told Griffin that a young girl named “Dom-something” was terrified and stuck in limbo because of the hatred and plans for vengeance that Griffin was harboring. The psychic turned a confused and apologetic Griffin out of the house; a year would pass before the psychic’s words made sense to Griffin.

Nick, on the other hand, gained minor fame following Dominique’s death, with people seeking him out either in sympathy or to hear the details of Dominique’s story. Although he avoided most, he ended up meeting Tina Brown, who would eventually take over as editor-in-chief at Vanity Fair and sharing his story. Brown urged him to keep a journal during the trial and meet her after; once she had the job at Vanity Fair, she promised that she would publish Nick’s account of it. Although happy for his father, Griffin had conflicting emotions when he first heard this, uncomfortable with Nick using Dominique’s tragedy to further his own career.

Although it was not common practice in those days for families to attend murder trials of their loved ones, the Dunnes decided to do so on Doris Tate’s advice that they display their support for Dominique. They also met with Steven Barshop, the prosecutor assigned to Dominique’s case, who warned them that the trial might turn ugly and that he would not entertain any “armchair quarterbacks from the bleachers” (284). Although initially put off by his bluntness and brusque manner, Lenny noted that it would be beneficial to have someone like Barshop defending Dominique.

A couple of months before the trial began, Griffin landed a role in Johnny Dangerously, a slapstick spoof of gangster movies starring Michael Keaton. He rented out a place in Malibu, between the 20th Century Fox studios and the Santa Monica Courthouse, and spent the entirety of the trial shuttling between work and court. Charlie and Alex kept him company throughout. They tided over the difficult months with the help of a sheet of acid that Timothy Leary had gifted Griffin at a birthday party thrown for him by Carrie Fisher, after Susan Sarandon told Leary what awaited Griffin.

The weekend before jury selection, Mike Adelson, Sweeney’s attorney, sent word of a plea bargain to the Dunnes through Barry Farrell, a crime reporter who was John’s best friend. He revealed that John and Joan were worried about their daughter Quintana being called to the stand and were taking her to Paris until the trial was over. The Dunnes were stunned by this revelation. They did take the offer to an irate Barshop, who was placated when they reiterated that they trusted his judgment. He also revealed that the state wished to proceed with the trial, so the offer was null in any case.

The trial commenced, and Barshop, in his opening statement, described Sweeney’s previous history with violence and asserted that his action was “a premeditated murder in the first degree” (293). Adelson, in contrast, quoted Kahlil Gibran’s The Prophet and presented Sweeney and Dominique’s equation as a “tragic love story” (294). The presiding judge, Judge Burton Katz, seemed to take an immediate dislike to Barshop and the Dunnes and found Adelson charming.

David Packer, the actor who had been rehearsing lines with Dominique the night she died, was called to the stage. Upon hearing the scuffle between Sweeney and Dominique, he had immediately locked his doors, leaving Dominique outside, and messaged his friend that if he died tonight, Sweeney would be responsible. Detective Johnston also took the stand and revealed that some of Sweeney’s first words upon being arrested were “I just lost my temper and blew it again” (298). He had interviewed an ex-girlfriend of Sweeney’s, Lillian Pierce, who had also experienced his violence; however, when she was called to the stand, Judge Katz granted Adelson’s request that the jury be cleared from the room, as Pierce’s testimony might be “prejudicial.” This proved disastrous for the prosecution, especially because Sweeney had an outburst during Pierce’s testimony and tried to flee the room, which the jury never saw. Additionally, the Dunnes were enraged at the judge’s sympathetic response toward Sweeney when the latter apologized, agreeing that Sweeney was under a great deal of strain.

When Lenny took the stand, Adelson once again managed to get the jury dismissed because seeing Dominique’s mother in a wheelchair could be “prejudicial.” Lenny revealed that Sweeney had already attacked Dominique once before on the night she fled to Norman Carby; on that occasion, she took shelter with Lenny after Sweeney had banged her head on a table and pulled out her hair. Adelson carried out a cruel cross-examination, asserting that Dominique had a cocaine addiction that she kept hidden from her mother and had had a secret abortion. An enraged Barshop finally managed to get the judge to put an end to Adelson’s line of questioning.

After that day, when Griffin returned to set, he was approached by a couple of the extras on the set whom he had befriended. These friends, Leo and Lenny, were members of the Mafia. Having heard about the trial, they offered to have Sweeney murdered by their contacts within the county jail. Griffin deeply considered it, even talking it over with Alex, but then remembered the psychic’s warning from a year ago and decided against it.

Carby was the next witness called to the stand to detail Sweeney’s attack on Dominique. His testimony was airtight, and not only was Adelson unable to punch any holes in it, but Carby also managed to elicit sympathy for Dominique from the jury. Despite it being a celebratory day for the Dunnes, Nick did not join them when they lunched with Carby after. Only years later did Griffin realize that his father kept his distance because of his personal relationship with Carby: Nick believed that Adelson had discovered Carby and Nick’s relationship with the help of a personal detective and that he would use it to discredit both Carby’s testimony and his character. Nick was worried that this would greatly harm their case, especially because he was sure at least one of the jurors had to be prejudiced against gay people.

When Sweeney finally took the stand, despite his earlier outburst, he managed to present himself as a “pathetic” figure and even worked up some tears; following this, the attorneys presented their closing arguments. Barshop had no way of referencing Sweeney’s history of violence, as the jury had been absent for both Pierce and Lenny’s testimonies, while Adelson continued to paint Sweeney as “an ‘ordinary, reasonable person’” who was desperately in love with a woman who cruelly rejected him (331).

Griffin was on set when the jury came back with a verdict, and he was stunned to discover that the jury had found Sweeney not guilty of second-degree murder. He was convicted of voluntary manslaughter instead and, with time served, would be out in less than three years. Griffin raced back to Lenny’s, where he heard secondhand about Nick’s remarkable outburst after the sentencing: When Judge Katz asserted that justice had been served, Nick shouted, “Not for our family, Judge Katz!” (336), before alerting the jury to how evidence about Sweeney’s history of violence toward women had been withheld from them.

Once the press got hold of this, the verdict and the judge were lambasted across the country, and the foreman of the jury even publicly apologized for the verdict, asserting that they would have decided differently if they had known the facts. Judge Katz suddenly changed his tune, claiming that he believed Sweeney’s actions were murder and asserting that he was appalled by the jury’s decision. However, it changed nothing, and the verdict and sentence remained the same.

Following Dominique’s death and the subsequent trial, Lenny and Nick grew closer together; however, Nick and his sons all grew more distant from John and Joan, especially since they timed their return from Paris to the day of the sentencing. Even Griffin was hurt by John’s failure to check in with him during the trial. Alex and Melinda exacted their revenge on John for the orchids from Patrick Terrail by getting an orchid delivered to John and Joan with a note that read, “Victory Is Ours, Love, Patrick Terrail” (341).

After the trial, Nick returned to Manhattan, while Alex stayed on in Los Angeles to be with Lenny. Lenny, who had grown close to some of the members of Parents of Murdered Children, started her own group called Justice for Homicide Victims, with a goal of furthering legislation that would protect the rights of victims. One of their accomplishments was getting Marsy’s Law—the California Victims’ Bill of Rights Act of 2008—eventually passed in 23 other states.

Griffin moved back to New York after a Johnny Dangerously wrap party; shortly after, John and Joan sold their house in Brentwood and moved to Manhattan, too. Griffin’s relationship with them had returned to what it previously was, though neither mentioned the trial; Nick, however, remained estranged from his brother.

In 1984, Nick’s piece on Dominique’s trial was published in Vanity Fair and had such an impact that Judge Katz was demoted to a lower court. Nick became Vanity Fair’s star reporter and enjoyed great success in this role, though Griffin always felt a little uneasy that he had achieved this by using their family tragedy.

Not long after Nick’s article came out, Griffin read a piece by John in Esquire in which he criticized those who attended trials of the murderers of loved ones. A fuming Griffin immediately typed out a letter venting his anger and frustration, accusing his uncle of abandonment, cowardice, and schadenfreude. John’s reply arrived shortly after, denying that his note in the article was directed at the Dunnes, defending his move to Paris as parental protection and concern, and accusing Griffin of condoning, if not aiding, the orchid prank. Ashamed and regretful, Griffin immediately called up Alex, and the brothers visited John and Joan, with Alex apologizing profusely.

Nick and John, however, only ended up reconciling much later, when they ran into each other at the cardiologist’s office and realized that they shared the same doctor. After learning that each had had a heart attack in recent years, the brothers finally buried the hatchet and reconciled. They remained close and in regular contact until John eventually passed away from another heart attack less than a year later.

Amy Robinson and Griffin moved on to their next project, a film called After Hours, for which they managed to get Martin Scorsese as the director. Scorsese was initially tied up with another commitment, and they had enlisted Tim Burton, who at that time had only directed a short film called Vincent. However, Scorsese’s commitment fell through, and when he expressed interest in After Hours, Burton immediately and respectfully bowed out with no hard feelings. He went on to make Pee-wee’s Big Adventure, which was released around the same time as After Hours and grossed far more.

While shooting After Hours, one of the only instructions that Scorsese had for Griffin was that he not have sex until filming wrapped. He wanted Griffin’s portrayal of the protagonist, Paul Hackett, to carry the underlying tension of sexual frustration. However, following a scene in which Griffin had to massage a scantily clad Linda Fiorentino, he was so aroused that he ended up sleeping with someone he met at a club that weekend. When shooting resumed for the scene with Fiorentino, Scorsese immediately picked up on the difference in Griffin’s energy and yelled at him for ruining the film. A terrified Griffin begged to try the scene and promised to be better; the terror translated into the requisite tension, and shooting continued without any further issues.

After Hours released to mixed reviews (it would be hailed as a cult classic years later), but it did gain acceptance into the Cannes Film Festival. However, owing to bomb threats made by Libyan political leader Muammar Gaddafi for all Europe-bound flights, no one except Griffin himself was brave enough to attend. After a series of mishaps reminiscent of Hackett himself, including train changes, detours, and a misplaced tuxedo, Griffin made it to the screening and received “a thunderous ten-minute standing ovation” afterward (359). Later that night, wired and drained from all the adulation but with no friends to share it with, Griffin called Lenny. They mused together about how proud Dominique would have been of Griffin and how much they both missed her.

Despite the reception of After Hours, Griffin made a number of poor career decisions immediately after. This, exacerbated by his reputation of partying too hard because of drug and alcohol use, meant that he didn’t achieve the success he otherwise could have had in this time of his life. Griffin was also growing worried about Lenny’s declining physical health and Alex’s increasing mental health challenges. Nick’s star, however, appeared to be on the rise, his success at Vanity Fair mirrored by the best-selling success of his novel The Two Mrs. Grenvilles.

Around the same time, Sweeney was released from prison, and the Dunnes discovered that he had found a job at a restaurant called the Chronicle. Lenny confronted the manager about this, revealing Sweeney’s past. After she picketed outside the restaurant alongside Dominique’s friends and members of the Parents of Murdered Children, Sweeney lost his job. He found another one at Bel Age Hotel, and when Griffin had a chance encounter with the owner of the hotel on a flight, he told him about Sweeney’s past as well. Although the owner couldn’t do anything right away since Sweeney had declared that he was a convicted felon at the time of hiring, he was fired a week later anyway for punching a busboy.

Months later, Nick was contacted by a man in Seattle who believed that his daughter was dating Sweeney, who had adopted the name “John Maura.” Nick managed to verify this with the help of a private investigator, and after he and Griffin both spoke to the man’s daughter on the phone, she promptly broke off her relationship with him.

Griffin eventually stopped keeping track of Sweeney’s movements. He reflects on how, although he has not forgiven Sweeney for what he did to Dominique, he has let go of the hate even as he continues to miss his sister and cherish his memories of her.

In 1989, Griffin starred in a movie so terrible that it tanked his career for a while—a film called Me and Him, in which his character has conversations with his penis. Though this film was a critical and box office disaster, it led him to “the single greatest decision in (his) life” (370). His co-star was Carey Lowell, and the two began an off-screen affair while filming. Three months into the relationship, she became unexpectedly pregnant, and they decided to keep the baby. To the delight of their families, Griffin and Lowell decided to marry before the baby’s birth, and Nick threw them the wedding of his dreams.

After a honeymoon in St. Bart’s, Griffin and Lowell moved to Raleigh, North Carolina, where shooting on Griffin and Robinson’s next producing project, Once Around, was underway. One of the first things that Griffin and Lowell did was find and meet with an obstetrician in town. As the pregnancy progressed, Griffin began obsessively checking his pager every five minutes while on set. Finally, at two o’clock in the morning on April 8, 1990, he was awoken by the beeping of his pager: Lowell, whose water had broken, had called him from the living room.

Griffin and Lowell’s daughter, Hannah, was born via caesarean surgery later that day. Griffin was allowed to observe and even cut the cord. As Griffin waited with a newborn Hannah for Lowell to wake up, he felt a benign presence join them in the room. Sure that his sister had come to visit, Griffin held his daughter and whispered, “Oh, Dominique, […] look what I have. Isn’t she beautiful?” (382).