Hollywood: titanic director

If you had to pick the best manager in Hollywood over the past 30 years, it'd hands-down be Michael Eisner. 

Back in the '70s, ABC was sliding—losing money year after year. Then Michael Eisner stepped in, turned things around, and pulled them out of the red. In the early '80s, Paramount Pictures was on the brink of bankruptcy, dead last among Hollywood studios—even worse off than MGM, which was getting tossed around by capital. Eisner took the reins, and in just a few years, he dragged Paramount from the bottom of the Big Six to the top spot. 

Meanwhile, Disney was stuck in a years-long slump—leaderless, chaotic, with its theme parks losing steam and Mickey Mouse and Donald Duck fading into distant memories. Enter Michael Eisner again. After saving two major companies, he swooped into Disney in 1984. With bold moves like pushing brand-driven product sales, upgrading the parks, and launching a film division for non-G-rated movies, he revived Disney's film business in just a few years, turning it into an industry leader. 

He didn't stop there. Through smart, step-by-step acquisitions, he expanded Disney into TV and publishing, building a media empire. If Disney was a sleeping beauty, Michael Eisner was the prince who woke her up—he saved the Magic Kingdom. 

Success after success naturally gave Eisner a king-like swagger and absolute control at Disney. No one dared challenge him inside the company, and even across Hollywood, he had few rivals. Sure, Jeffrey Katzenberg's exit tanked Disney's in-house animation, but Eisner snagged Pixar, the rising star of animation studios. Disney's grip on animated films stayed unmatched. 

Plus, with Touchstone Pictures, Hollywood Pictures, Miramax, and Jerry Bruckheimer Films firing on all cylinders, Disney's live-action movies were gaining ground too. 

That is, until this summer, when everything flipped. Disney's big-budget flick Gone in 60 Seconds got crushed by Spider-Man, a blockbuster from Hollywood's new hotshot, Dunn Pictures. For Michael Eisner—used to smooth sailing—it was a humiliation like never before. Some twenty-something kid had the nerve to outshine him? 

If Joe Roth hadn't delivered solid results over the past decade-plus—and if Eisner had a replacement lined up—Roth would've been fired on the spot. Katzenberg's departure had already left Disney's animation division quiet, stirring shareholder grumbles. That lesson hit hard, so Eisner had to tread carefully. If Roth left and Disney's live-action films tanked further, it'd be a disaster. 

Lucky for Roth, Scary Movie stormed the summer box office as a dark horse, easing some of the pressure on Eisner from the shareholders. Roth dodged a bullet and made a bold promise to Eisner: the next film, Unbreakable, would rake in enough to cover Gone in 60 Seconds' losses. 

Roth survived by the skin of his teeth, but what about 20th Century Fox? They didn't have a Scary Movie-style hit to bail them out in the summer. Would Tom Rothman take the fall? Nope—he'd already built a safety net. 

As Spider-Man's buzz started fading from the entertainment pages, Disney seized the chance to save face. They hyped Scary Movie like it had already topped the weekly box office. At the same time, word dropped that M. Night Shyamalan—director of The Sixth Sense—had locked in a release date for his new film, Unbreakable: November 15th, hitting North America this year. 

Dunn took Scary Movie's success in stride. Harvey Weinstein might be a sleaze, but the guy's talent was undeniable. A movie he produced pulling off a miracle? Not surprising. Taking him down would take years of building connections and clout. 

But Unbreakable? That one made Dunn's heart skip a beat. Bruce Willis' rep might be in the gutter these days, but Shyamalan was a genius—great at building suspense and hooking audiences. With The Sixth Sense's reputation behind it, Unbreakable could be a hit. And that wasn't something Dunn wanted to see. 

He called in Nina Jacobson. With Spider-Man blowing up at the box office, Marvel Studios was riding high, and as president, Nina was thriving. Lately, she'd been hitting up top Hollywood parties, soaking in the praise. All of it stemmed from her choice to join Dunn's then-empty-shell Marvel Studios way back when. Looking back, she felt lucky and grateful. 

Nina got straight to it. "Dunn, you know how Disney's production team treats Jerry Bruckheimer—like he's royalty. After The Sixth Sense killed it, they've probably thrown their best offer at Shyamalan to keep him. Unless something unexpected happens, there's no way we're poaching him." 

"Unexpected?" Dunn asked. 

"Yeah," Nina said. "Like if Unbreakable flops and Disney drops him. Otherwise, him walking away from Disney on his own? Slim chance." 

Dunn nodded, crossing his legs, his expression sour. Unless a juggernaut like Spider-Man crashed its release window, making Unbreakable—with its $75 million budget—lose money would be tough. Mid-November was pre-Christmas season—no big releases were scheduled then, nothing to siphon off its box office. 

Universal's Cast Away had clout, with Tom Hanks starring, but it was an artsy film. Even if it did well, it'd be a slow burn, not a market-dominating rocket like Spider-Man. As for Dunn Pictures' other two films, Girl, Interrupted and Memento? Not even in the running. 

Girl, Interrupted was set for mid-August. Sure, it had Nicole Kidman and Natalie Portman leading, and it nabbed the Palme d'Or, but its heavy plot and deep themes wouldn't click with North American audiences. Dunn's bar was low—recoup the $40 million budget, and he'd call it a win. Overseas markets still respected the Palme d'Or, so even if it flopped in the U.S., international sales could break even. 

Memento was slated for mid-September. That one was even bleaker and more mind-bending than Girl, Interrupted. Still, its "high-IQ movie" marketing hook could draw in curious cinephiles who fancied themselves geniuses. With a $5 million budget, even if it sold zero tickets, its niche appeal and quality would make a killing on VHS and DVD. 

Nina saw Dunn's hesitation and jumped in. "Look, I've got a solid connection with Shyamalan. If Unbreakable doesn't hit Disney's expectations and they cool off on him, we've got a shot." 

"Oh?" Dunn's eyes lit up with a spark of excitement. "You can pull that off?" 

Nina nodded confidently. "Yeah. I've met him twice recently—I've got a good read on him. Disney built him up and treated him well, so he's not the type to ditch them out of nowhere. But if Disney's attitude shifts first, he'd have a reason to walk." 

"Alright, let's do it!" Dunn slapped his hand down, pumped up. "We already took on Gone in 60 Seconds in a showdown. Now let's go toe-to-toe with Unbreakable too!" 

Nina knew Dunn Pictures' lineup inside out and frowned. "A showdown? No offense, Dunn, but with Girl, Interrupted and Memento, beating Unbreakable at the box office is a long shot." 

Dunn waved it off with a grin. "Those two are locked in—Universal won't let us shift their dates." 

Nina's eyes flickered with confusion. "So what's your plan?" 

Dunn glanced at her, a sly smile tugging at his lips. "We've got more than just Girl, Interrupted and Memento coming out this year." 

Now Nina was really lost. Dunn Pictures and its subsidiaries had only greenlit three films last year: Spider-Man, Girl, Interrupted, and Memento. What else was there? A movie funded this year hitting theaters already? Steven Soderbergh's Traffic wasn't even finished—probably set for next year. The other projects were $100 million-plus blockbusters; no way they'd be ready in under a couple of years. 

Dunn grinned at her. "Nina, did you forget? We've got Fury Films too!"