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🕑 Added 2025-08-13 16:49:36 +0000 UTCChapter 451: The Situation Worsens
Kirk Douglas was in a fantastic mood!
The past six months had been a rollercoaster, but this moment? Hands down, the best he’d felt in ages.
Watching Dunn on the TV screen, holding court with that confident swagger, Kirk couldn’t contain his excitement. Breaking his usual habits, he poured himself a stiff shot of whiskey.
“Ha! God almighty!”
He downed a big gulp, the burn hitting hard. He coughed a few times, face flushing red, but it couldn’t dampen the thrill bubbling inside him.
Dunn Walker—this hotheaded kid—had just made a colossal misstep!
To Kirk, Dunn’s public takedown of the Golden Globes committee at the ceremony, calling out their shady voting practices, was like signing his own death warrant.
Sure, the Golden Globes weren’t on the Oscars’ level, and yeah, they were run by a bunch of foreign journalists who didn’t seem all that powerful. But toppling them? Not that easy!
The Globes had been around for decades, a staple of Hollywood’s awards season. You think they’d just roll over and call it quits?
And Dunn demanding an apology and reform? Pure nonsense.
Scandals like this? If the Golden Globes committee had even half a brain, they’d never admit a thing—they’d dig in and fight!
The Hollywood Foreign Press Association versus Dunn Walker. A showdown was coming!
“This is gonna be good!”
Kirk leaned back, smug as can be, reveling in his awards-season scheming.
On the TV, after Dunn wrapped up his speech, the room gave him a third standing ovation—the highest honor of the night.
Kirk found it hilarious, scoffing under his breath. “Bunch of idiots! Once you cool off, you’ll see—this kid’s stunt just cut off your lifeline!”
Dunn exposing the Golden Globes’ dirty secrets and pushing for fairness and transparency sounded noble—like he was fighting for all of Hollywood’s filmmakers.
But was it really?
The Globes had been tangled in scandals for decades, yet they still stood strong, second only to the Oscars.
Plenty of filmmakers knew about the backroom deals, but they still propped the Globes up high.
Why?
Because even a rigged Golden Globe was better than nothing!
Hollywood only had one Oscars. With hundreds of movies a year, only a dozen or so got nominations or wins. The competition was brutal.
Especially for big awards like Best Director, Best Actor, Best Actress—those were rare as hell.
Lots of filmmakers slaved away their whole careers without even sniffing a nomination.
So having the Golden Globes as a backup? It filled the gaps, gave people a taste of glory, boosted their rep and value. Wasn’t that a win?
Look at Europe’s top three film festivals—total jokes, yet filmmakers still flocked to them.
Why?
Exposure!
Fairness? Justice? Who cared?
Get your name out there first!
Sure, “quality over quantity” sounds nice, but the odds of success are slim—most end up with nothing.
Young folks might not get it right away, but Kirk saw through it in a heartbeat. Dunn’s reckless move? A disaster waiting to happen!
…
“Golden Globes Under Fire: Foreign Press Caught in Bribery Storm!”
“Dunn: We Need a Fair, Open Film Award!”
“Famed Director Dunn Walker Exposes Golden Globes’ Backroom Deals.”
“ Sweeps Globes, But Dunn Won’t Bow to Corruption.”
“Golden Globes Rocked Again: Dunn Slams Organizers for Rigging!”
“Sin Beneath the Glamour: What’s Next for the Golden Globes?”
Dunn rubbed his tired eyes, staring at the stack of newspapers on his desk.
He hadn’t slept much last night.
Not because he was up all night with a woman, but because his phone wouldn’t stop ringing.
Big names like George Lucas, Michael Ovitz, Ron Meyer, Tom Hanks, Geoffrey Rush, and James Cameron all called, saying he’d been too rash. Even if he had a beef, they argued, it should’ve stayed behind closed doors—not blown up in public.
Inside Dunn Films, though, things were oddly calm. Especially with CEO Bill Mechanic—usually a cautious guy—but he’d been strangely quiet about Dunn’s outburst.
Ten minutes later, Bill strolled into Dunn’s office right on time. “Just got word—filming for the second phase of Harry Potter wrapped up.”
The Harry Potter cast was mostly kids who had school, so shooting schedules were weird—summer breaks and year-end holidays.
Summer was the big chunk, the main filming window. The year-end break—Christmas and New Year’s combined—was shorter, less than 20 days, mostly for reshoots.
Dunn grinned. “So Harry Potter and the Sorcerer’s Stone is officially done?”
Bill nodded. “Yup, it’ll hit theaters by year’s end, no problem. This summer, we’ll kick off Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets.”
Dunn gave a small nod. He was listed as a producer on Sorcerer’s Stone, but he didn’t have time to babysit a bunch of kids on set. David Heyman handled the heavy lifting.
“Let’s talk Golden Globes. What’s your take?”
Last night, practically every industry friend he had called, voicing concern. It left him a little uneasy.
Bill shrugged casually. “I’m with you.”
“Huh?” Dunn blinked, confused. “With me? I didn’t say anything.”
Bill looked even more puzzled. “Wait—this wasn’t all part of your plan?”
Dunn gave a wry smile. “Plan what? How was I supposed to know the Globes wouldn’t nominate Natalie?”
“What?” Bill gasped, incredulous. “No way. You bought Dick Clark Productions last year, and now this huge mess happens—you’re telling me it wasn’t intentional?”
“Cough…”
Dunn shifted awkwardly. Truth was, it was a fluke.
But what’s done was done. No point in regrets or backing down now—he had to push forward!
After a pause, he said slowly, “I talked to a bunch of people last night. Calling out the Globes like that… it’s not sitting well in the industry. We’ve got two problems to tackle.”
Bill had seen too much with Dunn to be fazed.
Bashing the Golden Globes? Heck, he could see Dunn taking on the Oscars!
Marlon Brando mocked the Oscars back in the day. Dunn’s temper was hotter, and his clout was bigger—he had the chops for it.
For now, Bill just listened quietly, ready to follow his young boss’s lead.
Ever since Dunn Films switched its mission to “New Order, New Model, New Power, New Hollywood,” the company had a fresh vibe.
Especially with Dunn pulling off miracle after miracle.
Not just the rank-and-file—even Bill was convinced that under Dunn’s leadership, they could rewrite Hollywood’s rules and forge a new legend!
“First, Natalie Portman’s name has to be on the Oscars’ Best Actress shortlist…”
“The Oscars?” Bill cut in. “Dunn, the Academy hasn’t even confirmed if this year’s ceremony’s happening on schedule.”
Dunn waved it off. “It will! But even if it doesn’t, that’s not the point—I want the rep. I need the industry to see I didn’t pick this fight with the Globes—they targeted me first! Natalie’s performance in Juno? Forget nomination—she deserves the win. The Oscars are the ultimate proof!”
Bill’s tone grew heavy. “Right now, getting Natalie an Oscar nod looks tough. That guy’s influence is massive—he even meddled with the Globes’ picks. The Academy? That’s his playground. His connections there run deep.”
Dunn brushed it aside. “For the nomination, we’ll rally some friends—CAA, Michael Ovitz—figure out a plan together. Second thing—we need to deal with the fallout from trashing the Globes. The industry’s not happy. A lot of filmmakers think smearing the Globes and denting its cred means less value in future wins. It could hurt their careers.”
Bill nodded. “True. Top-tier stars don’t care—they’re all about the Oscars. But the next tier down? They lean on the Globes for validation and a career boost.”
“What do you think we should do?”
“Well…”
Bill hesitated.
This was a big deal—needed careful thought, not a snap decision.
Just then, assistant Isla Fisher burst in, breathless. “The Hollywood Foreign Press is holding a press conference—Channel 3’s airing it live!”
“Oh?”
Dunn and Bill shot to their feet at the same time.
“Let’s go see!”
The Globes’ response was crucial!
Everything Dunn said was true. If they factored in his track record and backed off—admitted some flaws in their process and promised fixes—it’d be a happy ending for everyone.
For Dunn, the threat would vanish.
But if the Globes doubled down, called him a liar? Things would get ugly.
Dunn versus the Golden Globes—a full-on war!
Right now, Kirk Douglas was hitting Dunn from every angle. This awards season had been brutal, and the Oscars would likely be worse.
If he got tangled up with the Globes too, it’d be piling trouble on trouble. The situation could spiral out of control fast.
Chapter 452: Never Back Down!
The Hollywood Foreign Press Association (HFPA) came out swinging.
At their press conference, the spokesperson declared, “Dunn Walker’s words are pure fiction—whiny, baseless complaints!” They accused him of smearing the Golden Globes with rumors, not out of some noble pursuit of fairness, but petty revenge.
Why? Because his girlfriend, Natalie Portman, didn’t snag a Best Actress (Drama) nomination, and Dunn Walker wasn’t happy about it.
They went on: “Natalie Portman’s performance in Juno was solid, sure, but the Golden Globes have their own traditions and artistic standards. Her missing out on a nomination is just a matter of differing tastes—no backroom deals, no shady business. Dunn Walker’s claims? Slander! Defamation! Stirring up trouble for no reason!”
They painted Dunn as a guy stirring the pot for selfish reasons, dragging the 60-year legacy of the Golden Globes through the mud.
The HFPA had already lawyered up, filing a lawsuit in L.A. court over parts of Dunn’s speech from last night, demanding compensation for reputational damage.
The presser was short—barely 20 minutes. They fielded three softball questions and called it a day.
Bottom line: the HFPA wasn’t backing down. They were ready to arm-wrestle Dunn!
“Suing me?” Dunn smirked, a cold laugh escaping him. “Talk about turning the tables. Let’s see what they’ve got! Everything I said was true—stuff that’s been out in the open for decades. What, are the Golden Globes gonna try to override the First Amendment now?”
Bill Mechanic waved a hand, signaling Isla Fisher to turn off the TV. He spoke slowly, “The lawsuit? That’s just their side of the story. Let’s break down the key points from that press conference.”
Isla gasped. “It’s Natalie!”
Bill nodded. “Exactly. Natalie. The HFPA’s sticking to their guns—her not getting nominated was fair and square, no suppression, no dirty tricks. So next, they’ll probably double down on that angle. Like, say…”
“Making sure Natalie doesn’t get an Oscar nod either!”
“Spot on!”
“Using the Oscars to prop up the Globes’ fairness and clout? Dream on! Look at the critics—Natalie’s practically the top pick for Best Actress! If she doesn’t even get nominated, that’s the real injustice!”
Isla, tight with Natalie, was fuming.
Bill wasn’t so sure about Natalie’s Oscar chances. He mulled it over. “Our PR team needs to hammer ‘fairness, justice, transparency’—keep Natalie out of the crossfire. Dunn exposing the Globes’ dirt has nothing to do with her!”
“No!”
Dunn cut him off with a sharp gesture, frowning. “Bill, doesn’t that make us look weak?”
“Huh?”
Bill blinked, caught off guard.
Isla’s eyes sparkled, gazing at Dunn with awe. A guy with guts and vision? Always a charmer.
Dunn paced to the window, hands behind his back. After a moment, he turned, his face stern. “Pulling Nat out of this might lower our risk and keep her out of the media storm. But then this fight with the Globes turns into an endless tug-of-war.”
Bill’s expression shifted. “You want to end it fast?”
Dunn’s tone was icy. “A measly foreign press group isn’t worth my time! To a lot of folks, the Golden Globes might shine bright, but to me? It’s a mall hawking knockoffs! This needs to be a clean, quick cut. We’ve got a packed year ahead—no time to mess around with the Globes!”
Bill couldn’t believe it. “What’s your plan?”
“Tell the world I called out the Globes because I’m pissed Nat got snubbed! They want to lean on the Oscars to save face? Fine—we’ll play too. Let’s use the Oscars to prove Nat deserves it!”
Dunn stood tall, radiating resolve.
Isla’s lightbulb went off, and she murmured, “I get it. You’re saying… since the Globes put the spotlight on Natalie, we roll with it—use their momentum against them. If she gets an Oscar nod, it’ll show the Globes were playing favorites and rigging the game!”
Right now, the HFPA was publicly claiming Dunn’s outburst was just sour grapes over Natalie’s snub—a hot topic. If Dunn backed off, the feud between Dunn Pictures and the HFPA would drag on forever, bruising both sides’ reps.
To hold the moral high ground, sway public opinion, and crush the Globes, Dunn had to ride the wave.
Since the Globes—and the public—were fixated on whether Natalie’s exclusion was fair, Dunn figured he’d fan the flames!
For one, it’d plaster Natalie Portman’s name—and her Juno role—across North America’s entertainment headlines.
If it worked, the fame she’d gain could catapult her from a B-lister to a red-hot A-lister!
On the flip side, the Globes brought up Natalie for a reason: if she didn’t get an Oscar nod either, Dunn couldn’t exactly call the Oscars unfair, right?
Classic borrowing-the-tiger’s-clout move.
Dunn would turn it back on them. If Natalie shone at the Oscars, it’d shred the Globes’ scheme. Then what? The HFPA couldn’t slap their own face, could they?
The Oscars greenlighting Natalie while the Globes didn’t? Either the Globes’ taste was whack, or they were neck-deep in shady deals!
Bill sat quietly for a bit, then—woman present or not—lit a cigar, taking a few deep drags before speaking slowly. “This might not be that simple. Dunn, even if Natalie gets an Oscar nod, it’s just a nomination. That alone doesn’t prove the Globes were crooked.”
Dunn laughed twice. “A nod’s not enough? How about… winning?”
Bill’s eyes widened. “Winning? Dunn, are you kidding me?”
Natalie landing an Oscar nomination was already a long shot. Winning? That was pie-in-the-sky!
We’re talking Best Actress at the Oscars!
Natalie Portman wasn’t even 21 yet—two years younger than Kate Winslet when she won. At that age, bagging an Oscar was near impossible.
Worse, the Oscars loved their political correctness. In a war year like this, they’d push racial unity hard.
That gave Black actors an edge.
Natalie? She didn’t stand a chance!
Dunn’s lips curled slightly. “Just a hypothetical—what if Nat did win?”
Bill jumped on it. “Then it’s a slam dunk! Oscar Best Actress means the world’s top actress! If the world’s best can’t even get a nod from some award, that award’s got a serious problem.”
“Perfect!”
Dunn snapped his fingers, fired up.
“You…”
Bill raised an eyebrow, puzzled.
Dunn grinned. “Bill, it’s settled—this is the play! We need allies pronto and two priorities: first, get Nat that Oscar nod; second, squash any blowback on Dunn Pictures in the industry, fast!”
Dunn Pictures kicked into high gear like a well-oiled machine.
The production team was prepping National Treasure, Gone Girl, Lost in Tokyo, Ant-Man, Ghost Rider, and Harry Potter 2.
Finance was hustling to seal the Dolby Laboratories acquisition.
Legal was gearing up for the HFPA’s defamation suit—and ready to countersue at a moment’s notice.
PR set up a press conference.
Dunn Walker took the stage himself!
“About what the HFPA’s been saying—I won’t deny it. Natalie Portman’s my girlfriend, and I love her. Her performance in Juno was incredible—everyone saw it. The film’s success? She’s a huge part of that. When I heard she didn’t get a Golden Globes nod, I was disappointed—shocked, even!”
“Nat’s a great girl. She told me to let it go, but as a man, if I can’t protect the woman I love and her rightful dues, what kind of guy am I? So I’m fighting back! This isn’t just for Nat—it’s for the thousands of filmmakers in Hollywood who pour their lives into this industry and don’t get a fair shake. That’s a disgrace.”
“I know the Globes have decades of history, and the HFPA’s got clout. But I’m asking them to fight like honorable duelists. This is between us—leave the women out of it. That’s low. And honestly? Nat’s performance was so stellar, forget the Globes—she’s got what it takes for an Oscar nod!”
The reporters below lit up like they’d been shot with adrenaline, zeroing in: “Director Walker, are you saying… Natalie’s getting an Oscar nomination?”
Dunn shrugged. “I didn’t say that. But I think her work’s more than good enough!”
As if fate had a hand in it, the Academy dropped an announcement soon after: this year’s Oscars were on schedule!
Here’s the rundown—
January 25: Nomination voting starts.
February 2: Nomination voting ends.
February 13: Nominees announced.
February 26: Nominees luncheon.
March 1: Sci-Tech Awards.
March 11: Final voting begins.
March 18: Final voting ends.
March 19: Oscars concert.
March 24: 74th Academy Awards.
Chapter 453: Rallying the Troops
The clash between Dunn and the Hollywood Foreign Press Association shot straight to the top of entertainment news across the U.S.
Natalie was getting the full A-list treatment—plastered across every major entertainment headline.
Kirk Douglas, keeping a close eye on it all, found Dunn’s antics hilarious. “Using a stunt like this to boost that little girl’s fame? This kid’s tricks are pretty out there.”
No question about it—win or lose against the Golden Globes, Natalie Portman was a household name now!
Who won Best Actress at this year’s Globes?
Most people couldn’t tell you.
But Natalie Portman? Anyone with even a passing interest in entertainment knew her name.
She used to be “Queen Amidala” or “Dunn Walker’s girlfriend.” Now, thanks to Juno and this Golden Globes drama, she’d become a star everyone recognized!
Building a celebrity wasn’t always about movies—hype and headlines worked just as well!
To an old-school guy like Kirk Douglas, though, this approach was too flashy, too opportunistic. He sneered at it.
Just moments ago, he’d been on the phone with the Foreign Press, promising them Natalie Portman wouldn’t snag an Oscar Best Actress nomination this year.
He’d said it with total confidence.
But deep down? He didn’t care one bit.
To him, the bigger and longer this fight between Dunn and the Globes got, the better.
What if Natalie did get an Oscar nod?
He’d already talked to the Academy’s top brass—this year’s Oscars were locked into a politically correct theme. Best Actress, Best Actor—those were going to people of color, no question.
If Natalie didn’t get nominated, the whole controversy would fizzle out. But if she did? It’d drag Dunn and the Globes even deeper into the mess.
She wouldn’t win anyway!
Let them slug it out endlessly—perfect!
In Kirk’s eyes, the Hollywood Foreign Press had long lost the ambition they’d had decades ago. Now they were just parasites, leeching off Hollywood’s flesh.
Every year, the Golden Globes raked in at least $100 million for the Foreign Press!
Where’d that money go?
Back in the day, their members were elite entertainment journalists from around the world, every article a major influence.
Now?
Over a third were full-time staff, their only job running the Globes to make cash—turning a sacred film celebration into a money machine!
The other two-thirds still wrote for papers and magazines, but averaged just four or five articles a year—mostly for tiny, irrelevant outlets. They’d lost all their clout.
If the Foreign Press still had the media firepower of its early days, would Dunn dare challenge them?
Those 90-plus member journalists could’ve drowned him in ink and outrage with a few strokes of their pens.
But now? They’d shed their old literary shine.
From that angle, Kirk actually backed Dunn’s exposé on the Globes’ shady dealings.
As a Hollywood veteran, he’d love to see the Golden Globes get cleaner, fairer.
…
On the Natalie Oscar nomination front, Kirk was playing it soft on purpose.
For one, he wanted Dunn’s battle with the Globes to drag on, escalate, wear him down. For another, he genuinely hoped this mess would shame the Globes into cleaning up their act.
Dunn might be sharp, but he couldn’t outfox this old-timer, who’d already turned both him and the Globes into pawns in his game.
Meanwhile, Dunn was burning the candle at both ends, pulling every string he could to get Natalie that Oscar nod.
Francis Coppola, Steven Spielberg, Marlon Brando, Jack Nicholson, George Lucas, Tom Rothman, Ron Meyer, Tom Hanks, Tim Burton, Alan Horn…
Pretty much every industry heavyweight he had a connection with got a call.
“Dunn, you don’t need to go this hard. They… they can’t do much.”
Bill Mechanic sat beside him in the car as they headed to Legendary Pictures’ headquarters.
There, Michael Ovitz had gathered CAA’s top brass to meet Dunn and hash out a plan for Natalie’s Oscar nomination.
Dunn’s spirits were low. “If there’s even a sliver of a chance, I can’t let it slip!”
Bill shook his head. “It’s a long shot. Oscar nominations aren’t voted on by the judges—they come from internal review panels within the Academy. It’s all behind closed doors.”
Dunn gritted his teeth. “No matter what, Natalie’s getting that nomination! We can’t miss any possible help. Even if it’s an internal pick, we’ll find a way to push from the outside! I refuse to believe all these people together can’t outmuscle one Kirk Douglas!”
Bill’s voice dropped. “If everyone you called actually spoke up for you, sure, they’d outweigh Kirk. But will they at crunch time? Word’ll get back to him eventually. In Hollywood, no one wants to cross him—not even Spielberg.”
“Ugh!”
Dunn let out a long, heavy sigh.
The Oscar nomination process was definitely rigged somehow.
In his past life, James Franco directed and starred in The Disaster Artist—great reviews, killer performance, a real Best Actor contender!
He’d won Best Actor at the Golden Globes, no surprise there.
But then the “Me Too” movement exploded, and Franco got caught up in a sexual assault scandal.
Days later, his name was nowhere on the Oscar nomination list.
A Golden Globe Best Actor missing an Oscar nod? Brutal.
At least Dunn was playing the righteous hero this time—taking on the Globes for the sake of Hollywood filmmakers, demanding fairness and transparency. On the surface, it was politically correct as hell.
Half an hour later, they pulled up at Legendary Pictures.
Whoa!
The place was packed!
Besides Dunn’s old pal, CAA president Bryan Lourd, the rest of CAA’s heavy hitters were there too—
Lee Guber!
Kevin Huvane!
Rick Nicita!
Jack Rapke!
These were the power players running CAA—Hollywood’s top-tier agents!
And of course, CAA’s ex-founder and big boss, Michael Ovitz!
Seeing this, Dunn couldn’t help but feel a surge of emotion.
He took a deep breath, straightened his collar, stood tall, and gave a deep bow. “Thank you, everyone! Whether Natalie gets that Oscar nod or not, I’ll never forget what CAA’s done for us in this fight!”
CAA’s entire leadership showing up wasn’t just for show.
This was all-in!
Between Dunn and the Golden Globes, they’d picked Dunn!
Think about it—CAA had hundreds of clients. Aside from a few A-listers, most relied on the Globes to boost their profiles.
For Natalie alone, CAA was risking the interests of hundreds of their artists. That’s a massive gamble.
Their clients’ success was their core business!
This time, CAA was betting everything on Dunn.
Bryan Lourd stepped forward, helping Dunn up with a mix of exasperation and amusement. “Dunn, what’s with the drama? Natalie’s one of ours! Honestly, we should be thanking you—if you hadn’t pushed for it back then, she wouldn’t have switched her contract from WMA to CAA.”
CAA’s current board chair, Lee Guber, stood too, his tone dead serious. “We all know how this started. Someone’s behind it… whatever, forget him. We’re in this together now—no matter what, we’re getting Natalie on that Oscar Best Actress shortlist!”
Chapter 454: The Slap Plan
After a full afternoon of hashing things out, they finally nailed down a complete strategy.
This plan had five parts, dubbed by Dunn as “The Slap Plan.”
It was a step-by-step, five-pronged approach—while also carrying the hope of delivering a metaphorical slap to Kirk Douglas’s face.
Part One: Jack Ripke, CAA’s VP, would handle wining and dining the Oscar Best Actress selection committee, greasing the wheels and building rapport.
Part Two: Rick Nicita, CAA’s COO, would work the upper echelons of the Academy and Oscars committee, drumming up buzz for Natalie.
Part Three: Bryan Lourd and Dunn would team up to repair Dunn’s tarnished image among Hollywood filmmakers after this mess, rallying more support and seizing the public narrative.
Part Four: Kevin Huvane, CAA’s CEO, would smooth things over—at least on the surface—between Dunn Pictures and the Golden Globes, easing their pressure on the Oscars.
Part Five: Lee Gabler, CAA’s board chairman, would personally take a copy of Juno to the White House, screen it for President Bush, and leverage top-tier connections to bulldoze a path straight to the Oscars!
These were CAA’s heavy hitters, and as Natalie’s agents, they’d gone all-in on Dunn. They’d spare no effort.
Michael Ovitz, Dunn’s business partner and older confidant, volunteered to pitch in too.
Through Legendary Pictures and his deep industry ties, he’d rally Hollywood studios to pressure the Oscars for Natalie’s nomination.
Dunn wasn’t banking on him pulling it off, though.
Typically, securing an Oscar Best Picture nod costs around $3 million in schmoozing, networking, and marketing. Best Actor runs $3-4 million. Best Actress? Usually caps at $2 million.
But for Natalie, Dunn slapped $5 million on the table!
Add in CAA’s sky-high connections, and even with Kirk Douglas’s sway over the Oscars, Natalie’s nomination was pretty much a lock.
With roles assigned, everyone was swamped and got to work immediately.
Dunn invited Bryan Lourd to a nearby coffee shop.
They needed to tackle the hit to Dunn Pictures’ internal reputation.
This had to be fixed. Even if Natalie scored an Oscar nod, Dunn wouldn’t gain much cred if his industry standing stayed in the gutter.
Tanking the Golden Globes didn’t sit well with a lot of filmmakers’ interests.
“Hollywood needs an award like the Globes—something authoritative to pick up where the Oscars leave off,” Bryan cut straight to the chase.
Dunn ordered two coffees, smiling at him. “How about we team up and start a new film award to replace the Globes?”
Bryan chuckled. “You run a movie studio, I run a talent agency. If we cooked up an award, you think anyone’d take it seriously?”
Dunn got serious. “Credibility’s not the issue. If we make the voting transparent and partner with legit stats firms, we can lock it down. Plus, with our star power connections, we wouldn’t struggle for buzz.”
Bryan shook his head. “It’s not that easy. The Globes took over 20 years to go mainstream. A new festival? It’d take ages to build clout.”
Dunn’s temper flared. “This won’t work, that won’t work—so what’s your fix? We can’t just let the industry hate me forever, right?”
Bryan teased, “Hate? What’s that matter? They gonna give you the cold shoulder? Anyone eating in this business has to deal with Dunn Walker’s reach.”
Dunn waved him off, annoyed. “You think I care about the little guys? They’re ants—can they sway me? I’m worried about the big studios! The Globes mean exposure. For arthouse films, it’s free promo and a ticket-sales boost. Without it, those companies lose a revenue stream!”
Truth be told, Dunn never saw Kirk Douglas as a real threat.
The Oscars are an award, sure, but they’re also a business—they need income!
Favors, face, whatever—none of it trumps profit.
If the Globes had known Dunn would flip out over Natalie’s snub and blast them publicly, the HFPA would’ve been nuts to side with Kirk Douglas.
They’d have kissed Dunn’s boots instead.
Kirk Douglas’s influence? Way overblown!
The real reason Dunn was going all-out for Natalie’s Oscar nod wasn’t that old man pulling strings—it was the risk of the major studios tripping him up behind the scenes.
Sure, Dunn was chummy with plenty of studio execs, but those slick suits were masters at smiling to your face while stabbing you in the back.
Keeping the Globes’ prestige intact served their bottom line better.
Dunn’s real fear was them meddling to protect their profits, tanking Natalie’s Oscar shot.
Not some shadowy geezer like Kirk Douglas!
Bryan finally dropped the grin, his face tightening. “A new festival? That’s a long-term play—we’d need to strategize hard. It’s not time yet. Who knows, maybe the Globes’ll cave once they see our muscle. As for the industry’s take? That’s easy.”
“Oh? Easy?”
“Yeah—if you’re willing to put something on the table.”
Dunn’s voice went cold. “Put something up? You’re not suggesting I pay off the other studios to cover their losses from me trashing the Globes, are you?”
Bryan smirked. “Cash? Nah, that’s off the table. But… remember how you dodged the Big Six’s chokehold with that ‘portfolio investment’ idea? You could pitch a fresh Hollywood concept—something that fits Dunn Pictures’ ‘New Order, New Model, New Power, New Hollywood’ vibe.”
Dunn rolled his eyes. “What, you think I’m God? Portfolio investing was a stroke of genius—I’m tapped out of big ideas.”
“No, you’ve got it! You definitely do!” Bryan said with ironclad certainty.
“Huh?”
Dunn frowned, unsure.
Bryan sipped his coffee, then spoke slowly. “Back in the day, Barry Diller cooked up the ‘high-concept’ film idea. Teamed up with Michael Eisner and Jeffrey Katzenberg, they pulled Paramount back from the brink of bankruptcy. In just a few years, it was Hollywood’s top dog.”
“Then Disney was teetering, so they brought in Eisner and Katzenberg—creative trailblazers. Eisner took Diller’s theory and ran with it, adding ‘first and second base’—tight budget control on top of high concepts.”
“With that mindset, Eisner basically cracked a movie formula. In his first five years at Disney, they made 33 films—29 turned a profit. Staggering results. He flipped Disney from near-collapse to thriving, earning a rep as a genius film analyst!”
“But lately, that formula’s fizzled. Eisner tried jumping on the big-budget ‘event film’ trend, but you’ve seen the results—disastrous. Diller and Eisner’s old playbook? It’s outdated. Hollywood needs a new formula.”
Dunn mulled it over. “So you think… I’ve got my own movie formula?”
Bryan grinned. “Obviously! Every film you’ve backed has made money. Even a snooze like Girl, Interrupted hit $100 million worldwide—mind-blowing!”
Dunn smiled modestly. “Just luck.”
“Luck?” Bryan scoffed. “Save that for the kids. Dunn Pictures’ films—especially the commercial ones—rake in numbers that make me jealous! You’ve got a system, a winning formula. Share it, and I bet even the biggest problems melt away.”
Dunn’s eyes widened. “You mean… spill my filmmaking philosophy to everyone?”
“If you’re up for it, the studio giants’ll hail you as a savior! It’d do more for Hollywood than portfolio investing ever did. Up to you, though.”
As an agent, Bryan was dying for Dunn to spill his “secret sauce.”
More good movies meant more star-making opportunities.
Lately, with mega-hits like Jurassic Park, Titanic, Independence Day, Star Wars: Episode I, and Spider-Man, studios had gone all-in on big-budget blockbusters.
High stakes, high risk—but one win could bankroll a studio for a year!
Between May 2000 and May 2001, Spider-Man alone outgrossed 90% of Dunn Pictures’ total revenue!
Problem was, blockbusters weren’t a game everyone could play.
Even Warner’s Batman & Robin flopped, and Waterworld sent A-lister Kevin Costner tumbling to C-list status.
Filmmakers and studios were lost on how to nail these beasts.
How do you blend effects and story to hook audiences?
Outside of Dunn Pictures, every studio had paid a $100 million-plus tuition fee—and still flunked the test!
Dunn sat in thought for a long stretch.
Bryan watched him, brimming with anticipation. “So?”
Dunn muttered, “It’s not impossible…”
Chapter 455: An Old Man Left Behind by the Times
Once upon a time, Dunn and Michael Eisner were at each other’s throats. But now? The two saw eye-to-eye on digging into Disney’s classic animated films.
Their situations, though, were strikingly similar.
Dunn was running himself ragged for Natalie’s Oscar nomination, while Michael Eisner was sweating bullets to hold onto his power.
Recently, Disney and Pixar had kicked off business talks.
Their contract was nearing its end, and Disney wanted to extend it. Pixar said no.
That sent Michael Eisner into a fury. He thought his offer was more than fair, but to him, Steve Jobs was like a bloodsucking vampire—greedy beyond reason.
The failed renewal gave Disney’s board yet another reason to doubt Eisner’s leadership.
Fed up but powerless, Eisner seized a chance to invite Roy Disney to lunch.
Some things needed to be said straight!
Disney had to stay under his control—no one else could cut it!
Plus, he figured he could use the chat to drive a wedge between Roy Disney and Stanley Gold, the current Disney board and management committee chair.
Back in the day, it was Roy and Stanley who brought Eisner into Disney. Now, they were teaming up to oust him!
They met at a private restaurant, far from Disney’s internal dining spots.
“Roy, I just don’t get it—I really don’t!” Eisner jumped in first, locking eyes with him. “You’ve got a cushy life. I’ve made you a ton of money, and I’ve always had your back. Why are you doing this?”
Back then, Roy Disney was so broke he’d mortgaged his house to the bank. Now? He could live like a millionaire.
All thanks to Michael Eisner.
Roy’s face stayed calm. “I agree with Stanley.”
Eisner snapped, “You’re still lying to me? You and Stanley are tight—if you said no, he’d never push back!”
Roy shook his head. “On this, we’re on the same page. Michael, it’s not about you—we’re protecting Disney’s interests.”
Eisner gritted his teeth. “Then what’s the problem? What are you against?”
“You shouldn’t have bought ABC!”
“What?”
Roy’s words hit Eisner like a thunderbolt. He stared, dumbfounded.
“I told you back then,” Roy went on, “it’s the age of cable TV. Traditional broadcast networks are dinosaurs. ABC’s been dragging Disney’s stock down—you should own that failed deal.”
Eisner laughed through his anger, teeth clenching hard. “Roy, can’t you see what’s happening? This is the era of media consolidation! Without ABC, we’d be toast—swallowed up! There’d be no Disney left!”
Roy shrugged it off. “Pixar’s doing fine without being swallowed. They’re small, sure, but creative as hell. Their stock’s sky-high—practically untouchable.”
“Don’t you know Dunn’s already grabbed 15% of Pixar’s shares?” Eisner exploded, feeling insulted. He took a deep breath. “Anyway, Pixar’s tied to Disney—you know that.”
Roy smirked faintly. “But Jobs shot down your renewal.”
That stung—Eisner’s weak spot. He swallowed his rage. “Fine, what else you got?”
“Andrew Mooney.”
Roy’s answer left Eisner both furious and disappointed.
He couldn’t believe Roy’s vision had gotten this outdated.
Dunn’s rants about Hollywood’s old guard weren’t baseless after all.
These guys were relics—left behind by the times.
Andrew Mooney was a star Eisner poached from Nike to run Disney’s consumer products division. His track record over the past year? Stellar!
He’d unified Disney’s classic “princess” characters under the “Disney Princess” brand, cracking open a goldmine.
Last year, the “Disney Princess” toy line got licensed to Mattel—a deal that even sparked a big clash with Dunn Films.
But that one move? It brought Disney $500 million in revenue over the year!
And a guy like that was ticking Roy Disney off?
Eisner knew why. Andrew Mooney had dared to touch those sacred classic cartoons.
To Roy, those “princesses” were untouchable—cherished memories, fairy-tale dreams. Turning them into toys kids could grab or toss felt like a slap to Disney’s legacy.
This wasn’t the first time, either.
Over a decade ago, when Eisner first took over Disney, the company was a mess—cash-starved and directionless.
He’d been stunned to find Disney’s classic animations only ever hit theaters—no TV airings, no VHS releases, no merchandise tie-ins!
It was a hidden treasure trove!
He wanted to release them all on VHS to rake in some quick cash.
Cue Roy Disney throwing up roadblocks left and right.
To Roy, those films—their characters—were holy, magical, timeless. They belonged on the big screen, nowhere else.
Disney’s strategy back then was to schedule annual theatrical re-releases of the classics.
Eisner thought that was nonsense!
Business was business—nostalgia wouldn’t save Disney from bankruptcy!
After heated boardroom battles, Roy finally caved, agreeing to gradual VHS releases. But Disney’s crown jewel, Snow White? Off-limits—no sale!
Then the VHS boom hit. Every classic tape sold brought Disney over $100 million in profit.
That cashflow was Disney’s lifeline!
In the early ‘90s, Jeffrey Katzenberg pushed hard, and Snow White finally hit VHS. First week? 10 million copies sold, over $400 million in revenue! (Note)
A 1930s cartoon, half a century later, finally reached the masses.
Eisner frowned, sighing. “Roy, don’t you get it? Cartoons are products—they follow market rules! Our live-action films are tanking. Teaming up with Dunn, diving deep into these classics for max profit—that’s real business!”
Roy shook his head stubbornly. “I. Don’t. Agree!”
Eisner wanted to slug him—this old man was a rock wall! He growled, “For the shareholders, I’m pushing the Dunn Films deal. You can’t stop me—I’ll ram it through the board! The Bass family still has pull there!”
Roy gave him a long look. “I remember when you started, you promised me—if I ever pulled my support, you’d step down.”
Eisner shot back, “I never said that!”
Roy fell silent, speechless.
Just then, Eisner’s phone rang—Dunn.
He glanced at Roy, then picked up with zero manners. “Dunn, ha, I’m sorting out this animation rights mess—our deal’s still on, I’m serious… What? You’re giving a lecture?”
Eisner bolted up, face flushing with excitement. “That’s huge—amazing! Dunn, if you pull this off, all of Hollywood’s gonna owe you one!”
He started puffing himself up. “Back in my day, I dropped the ‘high concept’ movie theory—shook things up, set the trend. But every era’s got its thing. You gotta know when you’re past your prime—out with the old! I’m all in for your new ideas!”
That last bit was a jab, aimed square at Roy Disney.
“What? You dig ‘high concept’ too? January 25th? I’m there—no question! Ha, oh, by the way, I put in a word with the Academy—told them to look out for Natalie. No need to thank me—we’re buddies, right?”
A two-minute call, and all the frustration from arguing with Roy melted away.
Dunn was giving a public lecture at USC’s auditorium?
Sharing his personal blockbuster filmmaking philosophy?
This was a big deal!
Forget USC film students—Hollywood producers and directors would be tripping over themselves to get in!
Humility keeps you sharp—when it’s time to learn, you learn!
“Didn’t see that coming—this kid’s got guts!”
Eisner’s opinion of Dunn shot up.
Back when Barry Diller cooked up “high concept,” it stayed in-house—never shared with outsiders.
Its spread came later, pieced together by film theorists analyzing Diller and Eisner’s movies and management style.
That’s how it hit the mainstream.
Dunn’s move, though? Way classier!
“Looks like he’s going all out for Natalie’s Oscar nod,” Eisner said with a smirk, amused.
Roy’s eyes widened, curious. “Dunn’s spreading his film ideas to everyone?”
“Yup,” Eisner nodded. “This kid… he’s done a lot for Hollywood.”
Roy smiled faintly. “If that’s the case, Disney doesn’t need to team up with Dunn Films. We’ll just take his theories and invest in live-action ourselves.”
Eisner nearly choked on his rage!
You old fossil—get lost!
What kind of dumb idea was that?
Dunn still held the Narnia rights!
Plus, without partnering up and seeing it firsthand, how’d you know if his theories were legit—or how much he was holding back?
Stupid! Stubborn!
