Don Johnson moves on

The second marriage began unraveling when the couple picked up drinking again. In March 1994, Griffith filed for another divorce, claiming irreconcilable differences. Within hours, though, their publicist announced the divorce was off, telling the press that Griffith's filing had been ‘‘an impulsive act that occurred during a moment of frustration and anger.’‘ A year later, Griffith got impulsive again. And this time she didn't change her mind; quite the contrary, she began making extremely public appearances with Banderas, 35, and in January confirmed that she was pregnant with his child.

From the way their lawyers talked at the time, the second split-up sounded particularly unsavory. ‘‘Ms. Griffith's behavior outside the marriage was one of the contributing factors to causing my client's latest bout with substance abuse,’‘ Johnson's attorney reportedly argued, demanding half of Griffith's earnings during the six-year marriage. Her lawyer allegedly fired back, ‘‘Ms. Griffith will not pay another dollar towards her former husband's rehabilitation expenses.’‘ In the end, she got the Porsche, the two horses, and a David Hockney lithograph; he got the Beverly Hills and Aspen spreads, a 1949 pickup truck, and the jet.

‘‘The reports that we were fighting over money — totally false,’‘ insists Johnson. ‘‘[The divorce] was never bitter, never difficult.’‘ (Also presumably false are rumors currently circulating in no less impeccable a source than the Hungarian tabloids — Banderas is in Budapest filming Evita — that Johnson wants Griffith back.) Still, doesn't it hurt, seeing his ex wrapping Banderas around herself like a new mink stole? ‘‘Let me clarify my position,’‘ he says, after a cautious pause. ‘‘Melanie's happiness directly relates to my children's happiness. So I pray for her happiness like I pray for my own.’‘

‘‘Don has dealt with the whole thing pretty philosophically,’‘ offers costar Cheech Marin, Johnson's pal for nearly 20 years. ‘‘He's a real veteran. He's got the soul of a poet and the hide of an armadillo. He's taken his lumps, but he'll still be standing in the 15th round.’‘

No doubt. But will he still be standing on TV? CBS has committed to six episodes of Bridges and has bumped Picket Fences out of its time slot to make room for it on the schedule. But Johnson is up against some tough competition: NBC's hip cop drama Homicide (which is gaining with younger viewers) and ABC's newsmagazine program 20/20 (which does great with older folks). Finding an audience between those demographics may prove tricky, although CBS' Moonves doesn't sound worried. ‘‘Don Johnson was made for TV,’‘ he offers. ‘‘People just love him. They'll welcome him into their homes.’‘

And if they don't, he can always give the big screen another try. In fact, he already has: He'll be playing a pro golfer in Kevin Costner's new links comedy Tin Cup, due in July. ‘‘My character is a study in insincerity,’‘ Johnson waxes, marinating his vocal cords with another cigarette. ‘‘He's awesome at golf, but he's really great at playing The Game and the crowds and the whole celebrity thing.’‘ Johnson grins wickedly. ‘‘He's a real insincere dick.’‘