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🕑 Added 2025-05-26 16:48:02 +0000 UTCChapter 208: Three Acquisition Strategies
After waiting a full three days, the person Dunn had been anticipating finally showed up at his office.
Weston Cotton was 45 years old, of average build, and wore a pair of gold-rimmed glasses that gave him a refined, scholarly vibe. Dressed in a formal suit with a festive red tie, he carried a black laptop bag, exuding the polished air of a business elite.
Introduced by Bill Mechanic, Weston Cotton greeted respectfully, “Hello, Director Walker. You might not know me, but we’ve already worked together on four films. Titanic, My Big Fat Greek Wedding, Wedding Crashers, and Star Wars: Episode I – The Phantom Menace—I handled the marketing and distribution for all of them.”
Dunn smiled and shook his hand. “Weston, you’re too polite. I’ve heard about what happened to you at Fox. Bill says you’re really talented, and I’m looking forward to working with you again.”
Weston Cotton shrugged calmly. “I wouldn’t call it a ‘what happened.’ It makes sense, doesn’t it? 20th Century Fox swapped out their CEO just six months ago. Replacing another decision-maker so soon could’ve shaken things up even more.”
Dunn shot him a surprised glance.
This guy was cool-headed and steady—not full of himself or bitter. He’d been a key player at 20th Century Fox, yet he got unfairly sacked. Most people would be stewing with resentment, but here he was, brushing it off like it was no big deal. That’s some serious professional maturity.
Dunn glanced at Bill Mechanic, then cracked a joke. “Weston, Bill told me about you three days ago. I’ve been on pins and needles waiting for you ever since.”
Weston gave a polished explanation. “Sorry for keeping you waiting, Director Walker. But since this is an interview, I had to come prepared. Even with Mr. Mechanic’s recommendation, I figured showing my worth would matter more.”
Bill Mechanic chimed in, “Over the past few days, he’s dug into our company’s strategic plans and growth needs. He put together a 60-page PowerPoint to lay out his management ideas and vision.”
“Sixty pages? That’s a ton of work!”
Dunn gave Weston a surprised look and noticed his eyes were a little red, his face showing signs of exhaustion.
Weston smiled. “I owe it to Mr. Mechanic’s trust. Without the files he gave me, I’d still be totally in the dark about Dunn Films’ strategy.”
Dunn waved it off with a grin. “No worries. Even if we don’t strike a deal, we can still be friends. So… how about we take a look at that PowerPoint?”
“Sure.”
Weston Cotton sat down on the sofa, pulled out an HP laptop from his bag, and started setting it up with ease.
Dunn and Bill Mechanic sat on either side of him. Soon, a simple, no-frills PowerPoint slid onto the screen. The title on the first page grabbed Dunn’s attention right away: Building an Independent Film Distribution Department.
Weston didn’t catch Dunn’s reaction, his focus locked on the presentation. “Mr. Mechanic mentioned that Dunn Films is dead-set on growing its independent film distribution arm. I happen to have some experience in that area, so I figured I’d tackle that first.”
“Great!”
Dunn’s voice was steady, though he was trying hard to keep his excitement in check.
Weston continued, “Mainstream commercial film distribution usually falls to big multinational companies. Take 20th Century Fox, for example—they’ve got over 16,000 employees worldwide, and more than 11,000 of them work in global distribution. Getting a film marketed and released in over 100 countries is a massive operation. With Dunn Films’ current size, it can’t support a department that big. And even if you started building an international distribution network from scratch, it’d take at least five years.”
Dunn nodded along as he scanned the data on the slide. “Exactly. That’s why I’m planning to just buy one outright. For now, Dunn Films only needs an independent film distribution channel that covers North America.”
“Straight-up acquisition?”
Weston, deep in his PowerPoint flow, couldn’t hide his surprise and turned to look at Dunn.
He’d heard from Bill Mechanic that Dunn Walker was ambitious—big dreams, bold moves. When making the presentation, Weston had been told to think big, even toss in some wild ideas if he wanted, just don’t play it too safe.
So, Weston had crafted three acquisition strategies tailored to Dunn Films’ current goals.
But he hadn’t expected Dunn’s ambitions to dwarf even his wildest guesses!
Buying a company with a worldwide distribution network? That’s next-level. In all of Hollywood, only six companies fit that bill: Disney, Paramount, Sony Columbia, Universal, Warner Bros., and 20th Century Fox!
With Dunn Films’ current scale, which one could they even swallow?
Weston shook his head, pulling his thoughts back to the presentation. “An independent film distribution department is a lot simpler. You’d usually need a team of about 50 people, and it’d take around six months to get it up and running.”
“Six months?” Dunn frowned. “No way, that’s too slow!”
Disney’s Unbreakable was hitting theaters in mid-November—just over three months away. Dunn Films needed to get its distribution department ready fast and then handle the release of Saw.
Weston flipped to the next slide. “I know. Mr. Mechanic told me that in November, Dunn Films’ subsidiary, Rampage Studios, has a movie coming out. But building a distribution department from scratch takes at least six months—and that’s with my connections and resources. Back when I set up Fox Searchlight’s distribution arm, it took me a solid 10 months.”
Dunn mulled it over. “So what’s the solution?”
“Acquisition!”
“Acquisition?”
Dunn’s eyes lit up, catching his drift.
“Yep, just buy a small production company that already has an independent distribution network in North America.” Weston tapped the spacebar, and the next slide popped up with a company name in big letters: Good Machine Film Production Company.
Dunn raised an eyebrow. The name rang a bell.
Weston explained, “This production company was founded in 1991 by James Schamus and Ted Hope.”
“James Schamus? Wait, isn’t he Ang Lee’s producer?”
While working on The Chronicles of Narnia, Dunn vaguely recalled that Ang Lee’s biggest collaborator—a guy who doubled as screenwriter and executive producer—was James Schamus.
Weston grinned. “You got it! Schamus is Director Lee’s right-hand man. Every movie Lee’s made in Hollywood has had his backing. Good Machine got its start by investing in Lee’s film Pushing Hands.”
Bill Mechanic, who’d been quiet for a while, piped up. “That’s a small outfit, right? Do they have a full distribution department?”
Weston nodded. “It’s not huge, but it’s solid. They couldn’t handle something like Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon, but for distributing a low-budget B-movie? They’ve got it covered.”
Dunn squinted, saying nothing.
Something clicked in his mind.
Good Machine Film Production Company… wasn’t that a well-known indie film outfit? In 2004, Universal Pictures bought them out, renamed them Focus Features, and they churned out hit after hit, earning a rep as the “second Miramax.”
Dunn had long set his sights on acquiring Universal Pictures.
If Universal was going to snap up this company eventually, why not jump in early, grab it for a steal, and solve Dunn Films’ current needs in one go?
Yeah, this acquisition idea was solid!
“How much?”
“Good Machine has produced 13 films so far—small-budget indies with modest profits. They’re not too pricey. I’d estimate around $15 million.”
Dunn gave a firm nod. “Done! I’m sold on the acquisition plan. Weston, this job’s yours. Buy Good Machine as fast as you can, then beef up and polish their distribution department for me. Oh, and one more thing—Good Machine is a terrible name. Once the deal’s done, rename it Focus Features!”
Weston blinked, stunned. “Director Walker, I… I…”
Dunn clapped him on the shoulder with a casual smile. “This proposal alone proves you’re fit to be Dunn Films’ VP. In other words, Weston, you’re hired.”
“Huh?”
Weston was floored—shocked and thrilled, his head spinning.
Sure, he’d been a VP at 20th Century Fox, but he’d known Dunn for less than 20 minutes, and now he was being named VP of Dunn Films? That kind of trust hit heavy.
Going from Fox’s VP to Dunn Films’ VP was technically a step down.
But with Bill Mechanic as a precedent, who could complain?
The former top dog at 20th Century Fox had jumped ship to be Dunn Films’ number two. What room did Weston have to grumble?
Bill Mechanic was used to Dunn’s unconventional style by now—his wild personality and snap decisions made him a total oddball in Hollywood.
“Alright, Dunn, let’s hold off on the hiring talk for a sec,” Bill said. “Weston mentioned three acquisition plans, right? Let’s see what the other two are about.”
Bill nudged Weston’s arm, signaling him to pull it together and move on with the presentation.
Dunn crossed his legs and grinned. “Sure. Who knows? Maybe Dunn Films will send out three acquisition offers today.”
He already had full confidence in Weston Cotton.
Chapter 209: Boosting Influence
Maybe it’s because the FFIE version from this era is a bit outdated, but West Cotton’s PPT isn’t exactly a looker. Still, it’s packed with solid info.
On the slide labeled page 21, Dunn spotted another company name—Dick Clark Productions.
Now he was curious. They’d just been talking about the movie business, and now… they’re jumping to TV?
This West Cotton guy’s got some serious ambition!
Clearly, he’s not content just being Dunn’s right-hand man, following orders to set up an indie film distribution arm. He’s got his own vision for growth.
Right or wrong, Dunn really liked his attitude!
At Dunn Films right now, all the big strategic calls come straight from Dunn himself.
Bill Mechanic might hold the title of president, but he’s a movie producer at heart—an expert in film content. When it comes to company strategy and high-level decisions, he struggles to offer much insight.
It’s a shift Hollywood’s been going through as it moves from the old days into a new era.
Back in the day, the Big Six studios were all run by seasoned film veterans. But as times changed and the industry branched out, the heads of these companies started shifting from traditional movie folks to sharp, forward-thinking strategists.
Take Warner Bros., for example. The chairman of the board, Terry Semel, is on his way out. The hot pick to replace him as CEO isn’t Alan Horn, the president and movie content guru, but Barry Meyer, the administrative chief.
Bill Mechanic? He’s definitely a manager from the old school.
That said, he still plays a key role at Dunn Films.
Dunn’s situation is unique, and Bill’s advice has been simple: go after as many Oscars as possible!
Leverage Dunn’s personal fame to boost the company’s clout.
It’s not an easy path—Dunn hasn’t snagged a single Oscar yet.
But now, West Cotton’s bringing a fresh angle.
TV production!
Talk about creative!
Dunn and Bill exchanged a glance, both showing a mix of admiration and surprise.
Picture this: if events like the Golden Globes or the American Music Awards carried the Dunn Films stamp, how could that not skyrocket their influence?
Even better, this isn’t just some awards-show outfit—it’s a TV production company that can churn out reality shows too!
For Dunn, with his knack for seeing what’s coming, this was like a gift from the heavens!
American Idol, The Voice, America’s Next Top Model, The Biggest Loser, America’s Got Talent, Dancing with the Stars, Wipeout…
Seriously, his brain’s overflowing with ideas for ratings juggernauts that take the world by storm.
“Alright, West, you’re exactly the guy I’ve been looking for!” Dunn waved a hand, standing up with a serious look. “Buying Dick Clark Productions is a great idea—and it’s gotta happen. Bill, can you take the lead on this one? It’s a big ask.”
Acquiring a private company is pretty straightforward, but Dick Clark Productions is publicly traded, which makes the process a headache. With West Cotton’s VP title, he doesn’t quite have the clout to handle a deal this size.
Plus, Dunn had a plan. He’d make West a VP at Dunn Films and have him double as a CEO assistant. It’d be a busy gig.
Dunn already has one assistant, George Paxton, but that’s his personal guy—nothing to do with company business.
What he needs now is a business-side helper. Someone like Isla Fisher, his little secretary, is fine for fetching tea, warming the bed, or scribbling a book, but she’s not cut out for tossing out creative ideas.
Down the road, as the company grows, Dunn might even need a whole team of business assistants.
Bill Mechanic nodded, his eyes lingering on West Cotton with growing respect.
The guy’s proving his worth!
“So, what’s the third acquisition idea?”
Bill’s question piqued Dunn’s interest too.
Clearly, when it came to Dunn Films’ strategic growth, West Cotton—even with just some basic info to work from—was dishing out ideas way sharper and more forward-thinking than Bill Mechanic ever had.
“The first acquisition was movies, the second was TV, and the third… animation.”
“Animation? What’s that about?”
“Pixar.”
“Pfft!”
Dunn couldn’t hold it in—he burst out laughing.
Chapter 210: Shake Up His Movie!
Generally speaking, movies with budgets under $3 million don’t really count as “Hollywood films.” That’s because they don’t have to follow union rules or share profits with the guilds. Of course, if something goes wrong on set, the unions won’t step in either.
So, in theory, a $1.5 million investment like Saw wouldn’t qualify as a Hollywood movie. Films like that usually make their money back through DVD sales, video rentals, and fees from specialty cable channels.
Dunn’s plan to acquire and establish Focus Features was all about folding Rampage Pictures under its umbrella, rather than having it report directly to Dunn Films.
Think of it like the relationship between Miramax and Dimension Films.
Originally, Dimension was a subsidiary of Miramax. But when Disney bought Miramax, they made it clear they wanted Dimension split off—Disney didn’t want a company like that under its brand.
Dunn Films isn’t as obsessed with political correctness as Disney, but it still has to keep an eye on its image.
Good movies? Dunn Films takes the credit. Bad reputation? Let Focus Features carry the baggage!
In Hollywood, movies costing between $3 million and $30 million are usually considered low-budget. Between $30 million and $80 million, they’re mid-budget. Anything over $80 million? That’s what the media loves to call an “A-list blockbuster.”
By August, the summer movie season is winding down.
So, early August becomes the final battleground of the summer slate.
Take August 4th, for example—three hyped-up movies are dropping at once: Disney’s Coyote Ugly, Sony’s Hollow Man, and Warner’s Space Cowboys.
After that, it’s time for the smaller and mid-tier films to shine. Like the Palme d’Or winner Dancer in the Dark, hitting theaters on August 15th, New Line’s The Cell on August 18th, and Universal’s Bring It On on August 25th.
The past two years, Dunn Films owned the August slot.
In 1998, My Big Fat Greek Wedding and in 1999, The Best Man both pulled off insane box office wins in August.
Especially My Big Fat Greek Wedding, which Dunn directed himself. With a $250 million haul, it beat out heavy hitters like Saving Private Ryan and Armageddon to claim the top spot on the North American box office chart that year!
This year, though, Dancer in the Dark clearly isn’t up to carrying the August torch.
Right now, Spider-Man’s buzz has cooled off. It’s still scraping into the weekly top 10, but the drop-off is steep.
After dominating the whole summer, Dunn Films is looking a little dim as the season closes.
Meanwhile, Disney—riding high off Scary Movie’s success—is picking up steam. Their big August play? Coyote Ugly.
With Disney’s promotional machine in full swing, Coyote Ugly doesn’t boast big stars or a famous director. Its main selling point? Producer Jerry Bruckheimer!
Known for action flicks, Jerry Bruckheimer stepping into a comedy-romance-musical caught a lot of media off guard. Interviews started pouring in.
“Art’s all the same to me—movies are movies. We don’t need to box them into strict categories like romance, musical, or action,” Jerry told The Hollywood Reporter, looking totally at ease.
The reporter pushed back. “But in our minds, different genres have different audiences. Your past films were action-packed, aimed at guys. Coyote Ugly is clearly for women—its leads are all actresses.”
Jerry shrugged it off. “Times have changed. We can’t keep looking at movies through the same old lens. Take Titanic—it’s a disaster movie, sure, but it’s also a romance. No contradiction there, right? Same with my new project, Pearl Harbor. It’s a mature, top-notch film—stunning, authentic war scenes paired with a heartfelt love story.”
The reporter jumped on it. “So, you’re saying Pearl Harbor could sell like Titanic?”
Jerry grinned. “Pearl Harbor is a massive commercial investment. We even got the military’s okay to shoot on the Nimitz aircraft carrier—for that real, jaw-dropping impact! I’m confident its quality won’t fall short of Titanic.”
The reporter wasn’t satisfied. “Box office too? Neck and neck?”
Jerry kept it cool. “Records are made to be broken.”
The reporter’s eyes lit up, sensing a scoop. “Oh, and what about the rumors you don’t get along with Director Walker?”
“Dunn Walker? Sorry, we’re not close.”
“What about the gossip in the papers?”
Jerry chuckled, waving it off with a wise, elder-statesman vibe. “No big deal. He’s young, full of fire—it’s natural. As an industry vet, I’m not about to stoop to his level and bicker. That’d just make me look petty! You media folks don’t need to hype it up—I’m not sweating it.”
The reporter was practically bubbling with excitement. “Let’s talk Coyote Ugly. What’s your box office prediction?”
Jerry shrugged. “Who can say with ticket sales? But it’s a solid movie, super competitive. You can tell just by looking at it another way—Dunn Films’ Dancer in the Dark didn’t dare go up against us in early August. They pushed it to mid-month to dodge Coyote Ugly.”
“Oh? Is that right? I heard Dancer in the Dark won the Palme d’Or at Cannes!”
“A European award doesn’t mean much stateside. If it did, they’d have scheduled it head-to-head with us, don’t you think?”
Jerry laughed it off, waving his hands. “Alright, enough of that. Don’t print that last bit—people might think I’m picking on the new kid! Ha, not at all. I’ve got faith in Dunn. He’s got some chops.”
…
At Hillside Manor, Dunn’s got a staff of 29—1 butler, 5 maids, 5 chefs, 2 gardeners, 1 fishpond keeper, 4 security guards, you name it.
The head housekeeper—a sixty-something British lady—and two maids are full-time, 24/7, splitting two guest rooms in the mansion.
The housekeeping agency said there’s no need for fancy bedrooms; a converted storage closet would do. Some rich folks even have maids sleep on a ledge in the laundry room.
But as high-profile public figures, Dunn and Natalie have to go big on respecting human rights.
That night, they were up against Coyote Ugly in the box office showdown.
Even with Dancer in the Dark’s Palme d’Or cred, and even though the theatrical cut was tweaked a ton from the festival version to suit North American tastes.
Dunn smiled softly, running his fingers through her damp hair. “Don’t worry. For you, I’d do it too.”
“For me?”
Natalie rolled her eyes playfully, huffing. “Oh, please. You’re just sweet-talking me. He’s coming for you, not me.”
“Is he now?”
Dunn gave her a sly grin. “Once you hear my plan, you won’t think that.”
“Oh?” Natalie perked up, her face lighting up as she snuggled into his arms. “Tell me, tell me! What’s the plan?”
