As Mike Medavoy, the former studio chief and mainstay of the Hollywood-Washington nexus, told me in July, “I think Haim has deliberately backed off.”

Why such focus on a man best known for transforming a Japanese TV series into the ’90s children’s action show Mighty Morphin’ Power Rangers? Because, in addition to being an unstoppable “bundler”—the polite term for those who are willing to wring cash out of their friends and colleagues—Saban has given more of his own money, nearly $13 million, than any other American to support candidates, political-action committees, and campaign committees since 1999, according to the Federal Election Commission. (The second-largest giver in the same period, Stephen Bing, trails Saban by more than $3 million.)

Moreover, because of Saban’s vocal support of Israel, he is seen as something of a bellwether for other influential Jewish Americans. An endorsement from Saban, a self-described “right-wing crazy” when it comes to national security, would send a loud message to others who question Obama’s determination to aggressively protect the Jewish state.  

Saban admitted he’d been worried about Obama’s commitment to Israel. But when the presumptive Democratic nominee ended his June speech to the lobbying group American Israel Public Affairs Committee by noting that Jewish Americans and African Americans had long stood “shoulder to shoulder” in periods of great social upheaval, Saban was moved.

“Him being aware of that, acknowledging that, shows that he may have a visceral commitment, as opposed to a logical or strategic one,” Saban said. “That visceral affinity was a question mark for a lot of people. Well, it’s no longer a question mark for me.”

Still, something held Saban back. He blamed “logistics,” his term for the scheduling problems that had thus far prevented him from sitting down with Obama before fully committing himself. But it was easy to wonder whether Saban’s hesitation partly stemmed from the fact that he likes to be first, to be prescient, to see what others do not. He will never be able to say of Obama, as he could of Clinton, that he was there at the beginning. Financially and emotionally, it may be impossible for him to ever be Obama’s “biggest.”

A former Clinton fundraiser remembers coming upon an agitated Saban in February 2007, just weeks before an event to be held at the Beverly Hills home of supermarket magnate Ron Burkle. Saban, who’d been working day and night to boost attendance, had corralled Jonathan Mantz, Clinton’s national finance director. “If I’m not No. 1,” he said, meaning the evening’s top fundraiser, “I’m going to cut my balls off.”

Saban raised $800,000 that night—more than anyone else.

“Son of a bitch! Another three-pointer!” Saban is kvetching at his very large flat-screen TV as we sit down for our first interview. Game 2 of the N.B.A. finals is being played on the East Coast, so we’re watching the Boston Celtics beat the Los Angeles Lakers from the family room of Saban’s 26,000-square-foot home in a gated neighborhood in Beverly Hills. Saban doesn’t have season tickets, though when the Lakers play at home, he always wheedles a floor seat.   

“I call this one, that one—‘Hey, you want a date?’” he says, munching nuts served by a crisply dressed British “house manager” named Justin. Among Saban’s recent conquests: Avi Lerner, the B-movie mogul who, like Saban, grew up in Israel, and Jim Wiatt, C.E.O. of the William Morris Agency—twice. “For the three games that are coming up, I schnorred,” Saban boasts. “Tickets are $15,000 to $20,000. But I didn’t have to buy anything. Think about it: a $60,000 savings!”

When I observe that this confirms his reputation as a tough dealmaker, he feigns hurt feelings. “Tough? Look at me!” he commands. “Do you see toughness? I’m a huggable little lamb! What are you talking?” He smiles a smile more crocodilian than sheepish and reaches for my tape recorder.

“You have a man in your life?” he asks, pushing the off button.

Saban is relentless. Ask anybody.

“Tenacious,” says Bob Iger, president and C.E.O. of Disney.

“Indefatigable. Overwhelming. Undeterrable,” says Steve Rattner, the managing principal of Quadrangle Group, an investment firm.