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🕑 Added 2025-05-28 17:15:51 +0000 UTCChapter 214: Furious Eisner
Michael Eisner, Disney’s chairman and CEO, usually keeps his eye on the big picture—group-wide strategies and major moves.
After wrapping up the acquisition of AB Group, Disney snagged a public TV network with nearly 30% market share.
Next up, Eisner’s focus stayed on TV, this time zeroing in on cable networks. Disney’s internal consensus was set: over the next two years, they’d expand the Family Channel and Kids Channel into a full-blown Disney Cable Network.
Then came this summer. Disney’s films—Gone in 60 Seconds, Scary Movie, and Coyote Ugly—got steamrolled one after another by a Hollywood upstart, Dunn Films, with just one movie: Spider-Man. That’s when Michael Eisner shifted his attention from TV to movies.
For a company with a market cap topping $50 billion, losing a few tens of millions wasn’t a big deal.
But movies? That’s different. They’re the crown jewel of entertainment, the backbone of Disney’s brand value! (Market cap’s not the same as brand worth, after all.)
Over the past few years, Disney’s brand value had been climbing steadily. Last year, it even cracked the $30 billion mark for the first time, hitting an all-time high of $32.275 billion!
That came from the global impact of films like The Sixth Sense, Toy Story 2, Tarzan, Inspector Gadget, and Bicentennial Man.
But this summer, Disney’s three big releases got crushed by a single superhero flick, landing blows at different points across the season.
The financial hit? Small potatoes. The damage to their image? Massive.
Michael Eisner hauled in all the movie division heads, demanding to know what the hell happened this summer. How did Disney’s films end up under the boot of a company barely three years old?
The execs, naturally, piled on the drama, pointing fingers at Dunn. With everyone chiming in, they painted him as some unforgivable jerk.
Eisner wasn’t fooled by their antics. Standing up like a king, he waved an arm and growled, “What’s next for our movies?”
“We’ve got eight films lined up!” Joe Roth darted a cautious glance at Eisner, jumping in first. “August 25th, The Crew; September 15th, Duets; September 29th, Remember the Titans; October 27th, The Nightmare Before Christmas; November 15th, Unbreakable; November 22nd, 102 Dalmatians; December 15th, The Emperor’s New Groove; December 22nd, O Brother, Where Art Thou?”
Rattling off exact dates showed Joe had done his homework.
But Eisner’s expression didn’t soften. “This Crew thing late this month—it can at least take down Spider-Man, right?” he asked coldly.
Joe froze, stammering for a second.
Three weeks from now, Spider-Man’s hype and box office would naturally dip further.
But… The Crew had no big stars—just four old guys—and clocked in at a measly 88 minutes. Could it really outshine Spider-Man, which had owned the whole summer?
Doubtful!
Plus, Dunn Walker never played by the rules. If he pulled some wild card, who knows what’d happen?
Eisner could read Joe’s hesitation like a book. With a grunt, he pressed, “What about Duets?”
Joe’s face stiffened like it was carved from ice.
Duets was an R-rated sex comedy starring Gwyneth Paltrow. Oscar winner or not, her box office pull was weak, and the film’s quality… worrisome.
After Gone in 60 Seconds tanked, Joe had barely scraped by. He wasn’t about to bet his career on shaky ground like The Crew or Duets.
“Sir, I can promise you this: Unbreakable in November will blow everyone away—just like The Sixth Sense last year!”
Joe deftly dodged, eyeing Eisner nervously.
Eisner felt a fire raging in his chest, scorching him from the inside. “Useless! Spider-Man ran wild this summer, stomping all over Disney. And we’re just letting it slide?” he roared.
Richard Cook, another production chair, jumped in fast. “Dunn Films has movies mid-August and mid-September—an artsy one and some dull cult flick…”
“Get out! All of you, get the hell out!”
Eisner cut him off, waving them away and kicking them out.
As they left, he snarled, “Bunch of idiots!”
He knew what Richard meant—can’t touch Spider-Man? Fine, take it out on Dunn’s smaller releases.
But Eisner wanted Spider-Man.
The movie that humiliated Disney all summer long!
Once they were gone, he sat in his office, brooding for a while. Then he called up CAA bigwig Brian Lord, got Dunn’s private number, and dialed with an icy glare.
“This is Dunn. Who’s this?”
“Michael Eisner!”
“Who?”
“Michael Eisner!”
“Sorry, sir, who are you exactly?” Dunn’s voice stayed calm, like he genuinely had no clue who was on the line.
“I’ll say it again—Michael Eisner!”
“You messing with me? If you’re a fan, just say so. I’m busy working here!” Dunn’s tone sharpened, irritation creeping in.
Eisner was stunned. In all of Hollywood, who didn’t know his name?
Dunn was screwing with him, wasn’t he?
Eisner was so mad he could’ve coughed up blood!
It got worse. Dunn’s voice turned frigid. “I don’t know where you got my private number, but if you keep harassing me like this, I’ve got no problem getting the cops involved!”
With that, the line went dead—straight to a dial tone.
Michael Eisner’s personal call to Dunn had just been… hung up on!
…
At Dunn Films’ chairman’s office, laughter erupted like a volcano.
West Cotton’s jaw dropped before he let loose a booming laugh he couldn’t hold back. Reese Witherspoon doubled over, squatting on the floor, cackling without a shred of dignity. Isla Fisher’s files spilled everywhere as she collapsed on the couch, tears streaming from laughing so hard…
Across all of Hollywood, only one guy would dare mess with Disney’s big boss Michael Eisner like that—Dunn Walker!
Laughter’s contagious.
Dunn hung up, sitting in his boss chair, aiming to play it cool and flex some serious authority.
But watching his three subordinates lose it, he couldn’t hold out either—soon he was cracking up too.
Satisfying as hell!
Screw Disney, screw Eisner—get lost!
Think you can throw your weight around just ‘cause you’re big? Others might cower, but not me, Dunn!
Since the gloves were already off, Dunn went all in, not even giving him a chance to speak.
Eisner’s call was obviously about settling the beef between Dunn Films and Disney. With his bulldozer style, he’d probably chew Dunn out or throw some threats over the line.
Dunn wasn’t here to take crap or be a punching bag. Why sit there and get yelled at for fun?
Might as well have a blast screwing with him—keep the joy for himself and toss a gallon of gas on Eisner’s fire to send back to Disney.
The laughter stretched a full five minutes before the office finally quieted down.
The two secretaries, faces flushed from giggling, looked like Dunn had just pampered them. They murmured softly, bending over to pick up scattered files.
West Cotton, Dunn’s business assistant, had come to update him on the Good Machine acquisition. After that little detour, he asked with a worried frown, “Boss, he’s… he’s Michael Eisner, though!”
“Even if I played nice, you think a grudge-holder like him would let Dunn Films off the hook?” Dunn snorted, smirking. “Why bother with fake pleasantries? Let’s just go at it for real! I wanna see what this guy—who’s ruled Hollywood for twenty years—has really got!”
West Cotton mulled it over, then said slowly, “Fox is already warming up to us. Tom Rothman sent me a congrats card for the gig. One less enemy, and the team’s morale against Disney will be stronger.”
Dunn shrugged. “Disney’s got size, sure, but thinking they can take me on in movies? That’s a pipe dream!”
West nodded. “With you leading the film side, we’re not scared of anyone. But… we bought TARZ TV and invested in two shows. In TV, we’re still pretty thin.”
Dunn grinned. “West, you know Disney’s biggest weakness? Their brand value! Political correctness is their unbreakable rule. Violence, gore, mature stuff—that’s all off-limits for their wholesome image. That’s our opening.”
West’s eyes lit up like he’d just cracked the code.
Dunn Films couldn’t match Disney head-on yet, but they could hit hard where it hurt!
Shows like Band of Brothers or Six Feet Under—gritty, boundary-pushing stuff—were things Disney wouldn’t touch with a ten-foot pole. Dunn Films had no such limits.
Disney couldn’t compete there, could they?
Still, West didn’t fully get Dunn yet.
Series like Band of Brothers and Six Feet Under? Disney couldn’t just waltz in and fight for that. Across North America, only HBO could even step into that ring!
Chapter 215: When Things Go Awry, Something’s Up!
In Hollywood, the typical box office trend starts high and tapers off. Movies that buck that pattern—starting low and climbing—are usually classics with killer word-of-mouth.
Coyote Ugly? It scraped together less than $7 million in its first three days. That pretty much sealed the fate of Jerry Bruckheimer’s debut comedy-musical—dead on arrival!
Word from inside Disney was that the big boss, Michael Eisner, was furious and ready to take Dunn down for good!
How exactly he’d do that? No one knew yet.
Either way, Dunn Films’ next two releases—Girl, Interrupted and Memento—were about to feel Disney’s wrath!
The rumor was half-baked, but it wasn’t baseless. The bad blood between Dunn Films and Disney was out in the open by now.
Know your enemy, know yourself—that’s how you win every time!
Dunn sent someone to dig into Disney’s upcoming slate. Mid-August and mid-September, they’d be rolling out The Crew and Duets.
When Dunn saw the report, he just laughed.
Girl, Interrupted and Memento might have niche audiences, but they were both word-of-mouth juggernauts—certified classics!
Sure, they’d get crushed if they went up against mainstream blockbusters, but against The Crew and Duets? This wasn’t even a fair fight—it’d be a tank rolling over a speed bump!
It was August now, and the cutthroat clash with Disney in the movie market hadn’t drained Dunn too much.
Spider-Man had shifted into long-tail mode, soaking up the last drops of box office juice. The goal was to push North American earnings past $500 million within three months, then pull it before the Christmas season to rush it to the TV market. Cash in on the year’s hype while it was still hot and score a sweet deal.
So, it was time to gear up for the next project—A Beautiful Mind.
The film’s stars, Russell Crowe and Nicole Kidman, had been prepping for over three months, ready to roll whenever the cameras started.
Dunn’s big question now was: whose directing skills should he “mirror” for this one?
Sticking to his usual playbook, he tracked down Dunn Films’ Chief Artistic Analyst, Manohla Dargis, and cut to the chase. “Manohla, if I’m not directing A Beautiful Mind, who do you think’s the best fit?”
The script for A Beautiful Mind was adapted from the book of the same name. Dunn had steered the vision, while Manohla led the writing team to polish it, so she knew the project inside out.
“Director picks…”
Manohla frowned slightly. “Dunn, this isn’t really my wheelhouse. I can toss you a list of names—directors whose styles fit biographical character studies—but for the final call, you’d better check with Glenn.”
Dunn nodded. “Fair enough. Give me the list.”
Manohla thought it over slowly. “Roman Polanski, Robert Zemeckis, Oliver Stone, Miloš Forman… oh, and Sam Mendes. I love his style. Girl, Interrupted turned out amazing—it could totally snag Best Picture at the Oscars!”
“Sam just won Best Picture with American Beauty this year. You think Girl, Interrupted could defend the title next year?” Dunn chuckled and shook his head. “Thanks, Manohla. Can you grab Glenn for me? I’ll get his take too.”
The list Manohla rattled off was stacked with heavyweights—names that echoed through Hollywood!
Roman Polanski and Miloš Forman, especially, were legends in their own right.
But Dunn wasn’t feeling either of them.
Polanski’s vibe was pure European arthouse. A Beautiful Mind was an unapologetic “American Dream” flick, drenched in U.S. values—total mismatch.
As for Forman? Guy was too old!
He was old-school, even older than Francis Coppola, a flag-bearer of the “Czech New Wave.” His films had swept awards across Europe and Hollywood—pretty much every major trophy, including two Best Director Oscars.
One Flew Over the Cuckoo’s Nest, The People vs. Larry Flynt, Amadeus—classics that film schools still dissected.
But lately, the old man couldn’t keep up with Hollywood’s pace. His slow storytelling, heavy plots, and minimalist shots had no room in today’s market. He’d have better luck chasing awards in Europe.
Every era has its heroes, but not every hero fits every era.
Take Alfred Hitchcock—the suspense thriller godfather. Drop him in today’s world, and his stuff would sink like a stone.
Each age demands a different flavor, and A Beautiful Mind? It might look like an “arthouse” piece on the surface, but deep down, it was a star-driven, audience-pleasing, mainstream-values half-commercial drama.
Nothing like those European films packed with philosophical lens debates.
Five minutes later, Dunn’s casting assistant, Glenn Fiero, strolled in. Hearing Dunn’s question, he didn’t even pause. “Out of those five? Only one’s the perfect pick—Oliver Stone!”
Dunn’s face lit up. “For real?”
“In the last twenty years, not many directors can juggle commercial and arthouse like champs. Two stand out: Steven Spielberg and Oliver Stone! Spielberg leans hard into commercial, while Stone’s got that arty edge.”
Glenn paused, laying it out clean. “A Beautiful Mind blends commercial and arthouse, but it’s got a heavier arty slant—right up Stone’s alley. Plus, he’s done JFK, The Doors, Nixon—killer biopics, all of them.”
“Sounds like… he’s the guy…”
Dunn’s eyes drifted, muttering to himself.
Glenn cracked a grin. “Boss, if I’m being real, there’s one director I think fits even better than Oliver Stone.”
“Oh? Who?”
“You!”
“Haha! Cut the flattery and get outta here!”
Michael Eisner’s life was the stuff of legends—three times he’d stepped into chaos, and three times he’d turned it around. That track record made him a king at Disney, wielding unmatched authority.
With his razor-sharp smarts and vision, he couldn’t wrap his head around Dunn’s months-long slugfest with Disney.
Where was this twenty-something kid getting his guts and grit?
He’d asked the production team, and their answer was unanimous: Dunn Walker was cocky, arrogant, and indulgent. Yeah, he had talent—tons of it—but back-to-back wins had stripped him of reason and restraint, leaving him reckless and full of himself.
But…
The more unanimous their take, the more off it felt to Eisner.
If Dunn was that talented, his IQ, skills, and savvy had to be top-notch—movies were a brutal test of all-around ability.
That’s where it got messy. How could a guy this gifted let everyone see through him so easily?
The more successful someone is, the hazier their public image gets.
But Dunn? It was like he’d stripped naked for the world to gawk at. Did he really not care about what people thought or his own rep?
When things don’t add up, something’s fishy!
Eisner sent someone to dig up everything on Dunn—every scrap of news since he’d hit Hollywood, compiled into a report.
Even condensed, it was over 30 pages. Eisner carved out time from his packed schedule to flip through it, page by page.
At first, it was tabloid fluff—Dunn’s flings with Kate Winslet, Liv Tyler, Nicole Kidman, Naomi Watts, and other starlets.
Eisner didn’t bat an eye. That stuff was small potatoes to him.
Then he hit the part about Dunn navigating the “Aussie crew” and “British posse” like a pro, even cozying up to the French film scene lately. His expression shifted slightly.
When he read about Dunn’s ties to Francis Coppola, and his smooth collaborations with Spielberg, Lucas, Cameron, and other big shots, his face grew grim.
Some clueless punk building a network this massive in just a few years?
Bullshit!
Eisner was more convinced than ever—Dunn Walker wasn’t as simple as he seemed.
Even the actresses he dated had a pattern.
Small-time players, no matter how gorgeous, were just flings—quick hookups, then gone without a second thought.
But big names, especially rising stars with potential? Dunn played it different—bringing them home, even shacking up long-term.
Prime examples: Nicole Kidman, and his latest flames, Sophie Marceau and Charlize Theron.
While casually charming his way through Hollywood’s women, Dunn had quietly built a hefty female network. Actresses might rank low on the totem pole, but together? That’s real clout!
Eisner kept digging through the meticulously prepped dossier. The final section listed Dunn’s past business acquisitions.
Dunn Films buying Tarz TV? He didn’t flinch.
Dunn Capital investing in Hasbro? Still nothing.
Dunn Films launching Sillywood Animation Studios? His face started to tighten.
Dunn Capital dropping $1.9 billion to snag 15% of Pixar from Steve Jobs? That’s when his jaw dropped!
Chapter 216: Why He’s Raging at Disney
Animated films are Disney’s bread and butter.
Sure, Michael Eisner and Steve Jobs have their beef—Eisner’s even been known to trash-talk Pixar internally, saying their stuff’s got “flesh but no blood,” missing soul.
But he knows Pixar’s potential better than anyone!
So it hit him like a truck when Dunn teamed up with Jobs and took a stake in Pixar Animation Studios!
Disney and Pixar are partners, no doubt, but their distribution deal only covers five films.
Once that contract’s up…
If no new player steps in, Disney’s still Pixar’s only real option. Across Hollywood, no one’s animation game even comes close to Disney’s combined might.
But now, things are shifting—and it’s real.
Dunn’s set up Sillywood Animation Studios and bought into Pixar. His intentions couldn’t be clearer, could they?
Good thing building a global distribution network isn’t an overnight job. It takes massive cash and connections worldwide—something Dunn Films isn’t quite up to yet.
But then came the next two acquisition rumors, and Michael Eisner broke out in a cold sweat.
Dunn had tried to buy DreamWorks Animation—and even made a play for Universal Pictures!
Both deals fell through, but Eisner’s sharp enough to spot the pattern in those flops.
Why’d DreamWorks Animation cling to years of losses rather than sell to Dunn Films and call it quits?
Why’d Seagram let Vivendi scoop them up instead of offloading Universal for cash to revive the company?
Simple: they didn’t take Dunn Films seriously!
Sure, Dunn’s movies make a splash—from My Big Fat Greek Wedding to Spider-Man, each one seems to carve out a shiny chapter for his company.
But box office wins don’t mean a studio’s suddenly big-time.
Influence? That’s a slow-burn asset you build over decades!
Unless something wild shakes things up, a company’s clout can’t explode overnight like personal fame can.
Spider-Man’s triumph can skyrocket James Franco to stardom and make Dunn a household name, but it’s not enough to catapult Dunn Films into the big leagues.
The Big Six studios? Every one of them has produced and distributed thousands of films, grinding away for decades to earn their clout.
A company with just a handful of releases like Dunn Films? Not there yet.
But…
If something extraordinary happens, that’s a game-changer.
Take the 1998 World Cup in France, for example.
The French team had never won it all. The previous two tournaments, they couldn’t even break out of Europe. Once a European champ, they’d slid into second-tier status after Platini retired.
Then their legend, Cantona, got booted from the squad over a spat with the coach. This time, they only squeaked into the finals thanks to the host-nation slot.
Nobody took that team seriously. They chopped through the rounds and hit the final, sure—but everyone chalked it up to luck. They edged Italy on penalties, then faced a shaky Croatia in the semis, leaning on home-field vibes to stumble into the championship.
No one was convinced!
Betting odds showed it too—fans were all-in on Brazil.
Then… France smoked Brazil 3-0, snagging the title!
A team nobody rated stepped over four-star Brazil’s corpse and instantly became the world’s greatest squad!
Zidane, trampling Ronaldo, turned into the era’s top star, crowned World Footballer of the Year—when he’d never even cracked the top three before.
That’s the power of a freak event!
It can whip up massive influence in a heartbeat!
For Dunn Films to plant its flag in Hollywood and stand toe-to-toe with the Big Six, they’d need a moment like that.
So… who’s the stepping stone?
Michael Eisner’s eyes narrowed to slits. He could see through Dunn’s ambition and strategy now.
Everything playing out? It’s a smokescreen!
This summer looks like Fox and Disney ganging up to crush Dunn, forcing him to fight back.
But in reality, Dunn’s probably loving it!
It’s his plan—he’s baiting Disney on purpose, waiting for them to swing so he can play the underdog and win over the industry’s sympathy.
Once he’s got that goodwill, Dunn’ll strike—like now, ripping off the mask completely, even hanging up on Michael Eisner himself!
Because he’s ready. He’s gonna step on Disney to shout to Hollywood—and the world—that Dunn Films can take on anyone!
Just like France crowned itself over Brazil, Disney’s the stone Dunn picked to launch Dunn Films to the top!
He’s planning to stomp Disney into the dirt to prove to DreamWorks Animation and Universal that Dunn Films is a powerhouse—a safe harbor worth docking at.
Eisner took a deep breath, his face dead serious.
It’s all speculation, sure, but with his gut and experience, it feels damn close to the truth!
Dunn’s got the nerve of a lion, dreaming of climbing over Disney to rule Hollywood!
Eisner’s pulse raced. He couldn’t take it anymore. He grabbed the phone again, dialed Dunn’s private line—this time, he’d make it clear.
“Hey, this is Dunn. Who’s calling?”
“I’m Michael. Michael Eisner.”
He caught Dunn’s flat tone and felt a spark of rage flare up. Swallowing it down, he tried to keep things calm—at least get a real talk going.
But Dunn’s voice flipped, booming with fury. “Are you kidding me? Another prank call? I told you—I don’t know you! If you’re a fan, send an email. Stop screwing with my work!”
“I’m Michael Eisner, from Disney—”
He didn’t even finish. Eisner froze.
The line went dead again—nothing but dial tone.
Dunn didn’t give him a chance to explain. Hung up, just like that!
Eisner slammed the phone down with a bang, roaring, “Kid, you’re out of control!”
…
The A Beautiful Mind crew was already gearing up. The production department greenlit an initial budget of $45 million.
Russell Crowe’s paycheck: $6 million. Nicole Kidman’s: $5 million. Dunn? He took a symbolic $500,000 as director.
The original A Beautiful Mind had a $58 million budget, with just $450,000 for lead actress Jennifer Connelly.
But back then, the producer, director, and writer fees ate up $12 million, and shooting in story order—for the actors’ sake—jacked costs way up.
Now, Russell Crowe’s been prepping the role for three months. A normal shooting schedule will do just fine.
Dunn handed the early prep to his production assistants—Morgan Carey, Glenn Feyero, and Erin Kelly—while he bolted to a seaside spot outside Mexico City.
A huge crew was at work there. Back when Dunn shot Titanic, he’d used the massive water tank on this lot. Now, James Cameron was back with his Unsinkable crew, revisiting old turf.
The second Dunn hit the set, he caught Cameron’s hoarse bellow. “Matthew, what’s that reaction? You shoot too many horror flicks and forget how to act? Drop that jumpy crap and give it to me straight!”
“Got it, director. I’m on it,” Matthew McConaughey replied, sounding a little meek.
Fair enough—anyone working with Cameron ends up tamed.
Dunn didn’t interrupt the shoot. Instead, he sidled up to executive producer Grant Hill for a quiet chat. “How’s it going? Smooth?”
Grant sighed, shaking his head.
“What’s up?”
“Shooting-wise, James is top-notch, no question. But sometimes he’s too picky. That last take? I thought Matthew nailed it.”
Dunn grinned. “Perfection takes grinding, right? James just wants it flawless. Anyway, $200 million budget’s gotta be enough, yeah?”
Grant nodded. “Budget’s fine. It’s the schedule that’s killing us. Mel’s not even here yet—who knows how that’ll go.”
Mel Gibson was still in France shooting Mr. & Mrs. Smith, so Unsinkable had to film everyone else’s scenes first.
“How’re you juggling Mel’s stuff?”
“Mel’s doing 30 days of solo scenes on Smith, then 50 days here—his part’s not huge. After that, he’ll head back to wrap up Smith.”
Dunn smirked. “What a hassle! I told him back then—just stick to one gig. Guy’s gonna wear himself out!”
Grant chuckled. “Commercial flicks, man—hopping sets is standard. No need to deep-dive into a role like it’s some art piece. Oh, check it—who’s this?”
Dunn followed his nudge and grinned.
Striding over was a stunner—hair piled high, red gown flowing, drop-dead gorgeous. His old flame, Liv Tyler.
Her long dress screamed costume—‘50s vibes with a timeless allure. She glided over, all grace and charm.
Comments
belamy20
I ll fix it
Matt
The agency Dunn is with isn’t AA, it’s CAA
