240-242

Chapter 240: Winds of Change Sweep Hollywood  

Tracy Jacobs is a big-name agent in Hollywood. She used to work for CAA before UTA poached her in 1998 with a hefty offer, making her the vice president of UTA overnight.  

It’s not just her wide network and sharp skills that got her there—it’s the ace up her sleeve: Johnny Depp!  

Right now, Johnny Depp isn’t quite a megastar, but his unique acting style has him perched at the top of the A-list, never short on offers. This summer, he starred in 20th Century Fox’s thriller From Hell as the undisputed leading man.  

With From Hell wrapped up, Tracy Jacobs got a new offer right away—from director Tim Burton, Johnny’s old collaborator. It’s for a massive commercial blockbuster: Pirates League: Curse of the Black Pearl!  

Back in the day, Tracy wouldn’t have hesitated to jump on this. Johnny Depp was practically hand-picked by Tim Burton, they’ve been buddies for years, and it’s the starring role in a film with a budget of at least $150 million!  

But things are different now. This movie’s being produced by Dunn Films—and Disney and Dunn Films are at each other’s throats, throwing around bans left and right. Anyone with half a brain knows better than to wade into this mess.  

This whole “ban” situation isn’t just going to fizzle out quietly. The longer it drags on, the worse it’ll be for Hollywood. Tracy doesn’t have the full picture yet, but she’s certain some big players are working behind the scenes to smooth things over between Dunn Films and Disney.  

Once this circus dies down, both sides can sit down and negotiate deals again. That’d be the smart move for her and Johnny’s interests.  

Problem is, Johnny Depp’s a stubborn oddball!  

“I don’t give a damn about Disney’s nonsense,” he snapped. “When I was at my lowest, Tim was the one who helped me out! Plus, Pirates League is a huge commercial flick—I need this shot!” He didn’t even give her a chance to argue, his tone as firm as steel.  

Tracy sighed, frustration creeping in. “Johnny, I’m not against you working with Tim Burton again. It’s just the timing—it’s lousy. Anyway, Pirates League hasn’t even been greenlit yet. We could stall for six months.”  

In her mind, six months was plenty of time for the big shots to clean up the “ban” mess.  

“Stall? No way, not happening!” Johnny shot back. “I need to sign with the Pirates League crew right now. Tracy, I get your worries, but for me, it’s all about the movie. Tim says this role was made for me—I’ve got to be in on the early prep to really get into character.”  

“But the ban, Johnny… It’s Disney we’re talking about!” Tracy warned, her voice low and serious.  

Johnny smirked, unimpressed. “So what? Disney’s good at cartoons, sure—but movies? Nah. Dunn Films is the new face of the century. I hear Dunn Walker’s personally producing the Pirates League series. I’m looking forward to working with him.”  

Tracy felt a mix of bitterness and helplessness.  

Johnny Depp’s quirky, one-of-a-kind personality sets him apart in Hollywood. People say Tom Cruise can be replaced, but Johnny Depp? Never. It’s that distinct flair he brings to the screen.  

But that same trait makes her job a nightmare.  

UTA isn’t some giant like CAA or WME. One wrong move with Disney could tank the agency’s other clients.  

Yet Johnny’s her top star. She has to go along with him—or risk him ditching her for another agency, which would be a disaster.  

So, what now?  

Tracy sat there, lost, unable to decide.  

Since the ban drama kicked off, all the A-listers in Hollywood had wisely steered clear. So far, only veteran icon Jack Nicholson had boldly picked a side—Dunn’s side.  

Bruce Willis had publicly said he’d love a long-term deal with Disney, but everyone knew he was already on Dunn’s “banned” list. Even if he wanted to play both sides, it’d depend on whether Dunn let him.  

And now, with the ban war raging, Johnny Depp jumping headfirst into a deal with Dunn Films? That’s a straight-up slap to Disney’s face!  

Jack Nicholson can get away with it—he’s got the clout and the years. But Johnny? He’s 37, in his prime.  

What’s she supposed to do?  

Sitting in her office, Tracy fiddled with her computer absentmindedly, her mind a foggy mess.  

Then, out of nowhere, her eyes lit up like fireworks as she scrolled through Yahoo’s entertainment section. Her whole body jolted, glued to a single news headline.  

Her heart pounded like a drum, faster and faster!  

Even her earlier spat with Johnny hadn’t rattled her this much—or excited her this much.  

The Yahoo story seemed trivial, tucked away in a corner like an afterthought.  

But to Tracy Jacobs, a Hollywood insider with her ear to the ground, it was pure gold!  

This was explosive!  

The headline was low-key: “Mel Gibson Joins A Beautiful Mind.” But the implications? They gave her chills.  

After Jack Nicholson, another heavy hitter with clout and influence had taken a stand.  

This time, it was Mel Gibson—Hollywood’s top action star!  

The article was short: “Yahoo reports: Mel Gibson recently joined the A Beautiful Mind cast, making a cameo as a college professor. Word is, he’s doing it for free. According to his agent, it’s the result of a lost bet with director Dunn Walker.”  

Tracy snorted at the “bet” excuse—ridiculous. It was obviously Mel’s agent spinning a tale to dodge Disney’s wrath and keep things civil.  

But no amount of spin could hide the truth.  

At the peak of this “ban” chaos, Mel Gibson had picked Dunn Films, decisively and without hesitation. This wasn’t just a jab at Disney—it was a full-on punch!  

That Aussie tough guy sure lived up to his rep!  

To the average person, this news might’ve been a snooze—barely 2,000 clicks showed it wasn’t trending.  

But to Tracy, it was a thunderclap—shocking and thrilling all at once!  

Johnny Depp’s situation just got a lifeline!  

With Mel Gibson taking the heat up front, Tracy’s confidence surged. If she couldn’t sway Johnny, why not ride Mel’s momentum and seal the Pirates League deal?  

If Disney came swinging, Mel could take the brunt of it, easing the pressure on Johnny.  

…  

By September, Disney’s Coyote Ugly had bombed hard—both at the box office and with critics. At this rate, a $35 million film scraping past $10 million in North America would be a miracle.  

Overseas? Getting a release at all would be a win.  

Meanwhile, Dunn Films’ The Soul-Shifting Girl held strong. Its box office stayed mid-tier, but glowing reviews kept it steady and enduring.  

The A Beautiful Mind crew, filming in Boston, kept dropping little updates to stay in the media’s eye.  

Then Mel Gibson’s cameo news hit—and Hollywood shook!  

Especially among the big studios and top stars, faces dropped at the announcement.  

Dunn Films was getting too strong, wasn’t it?  

First Jack Nicholson, the old-school legend, and now Mel Gibson, a red-hot superstar. Their support flipped the tense “ban” standoff between Dunn Films and Disney into a one-sided rout.  

And the winner? Not media giant Disney, but the upstart Dunn Films!  

It was a jaw-dropping twist!  

Disney, with its legacy studio cred, couldn’t pull in star power. Meanwhile, Dunn Films, barely three years old, was already making waves across Hollywood.  

Had Dunn Films really gotten this powerful?  

With Michael Eisner’s iron-fist style, there’s no way he’d let this slide. Jack Nicholson and Mel Gibson backing Dunn Films? Small potatoes—nothing Disney couldn’t handle.  

But Disney’s pride? That couldn’t take a hit!  

You could bet Michael Eisner was fuming right now, plotting his next move!  

As Hollywood’s inner circle buzzed with theories about Eisner’s counterattack, Dunn Films dropped another bombshell at a press conference—leaving everyone stunned and goosebumps prickling.  

Johnny Depp had signed with Dunn Films to star in their next big project!  

In an instant, Hollywood was a whirlwind!  

Dunn Films was unstoppable now! 

Chapter 241: A Truce? Get Lost!  

It’d been a full two weeks since Dunn Pictures fired back at Disney with a ban of their own.  

In that time, Dunn Pictures’ films kept racking up wins, while Disney’s releases flopped one after another. Meanwhile, big names like Jack Nicholson, Mel Gibson, and Johnny Depp stepped up, signing deals with Dunn Pictures and brushing off Disney’s threats like they were nothing.  

Things were spiraling in a direction no one could’ve predicted.  

Michael Eisner had figured that if Dunn Pictures dared to slap a “ban” on Disney, the Motion Picture Association—backed by the Big Six studios—would step in officially to rein them in.  

But that’s not what happened. Not even close.  

Eisner made some calls, checking in with the other major studios. Their responses were vague, evasive—clearly dodging the issue.  

With his sharp mind, Eisner quickly put it together.  

That kid Dunn… he must’ve paid a steep price to win over the other big players!  

But what could Dunn Pictures, with its current size and assets, possibly offer to make Hollywood’s giants drool?  

“Film rights?”  

Eisner shook his head. No way. If the majors ganged up and carved up Dunn Pictures, they’d split the rights anyway.  

“Actual cash?”  

Eisner chuckled to himself. Sure, Dunn was loaded, but he wasn’t dumb enough to just hand over his own money to his rivals. At their core, the Hollywood giants were all potential threats to Dunn Pictures.  

Eisner was no fool. He realized Dunn must’ve teamed up with Michael Ovitz and dangled some hefty promises to the other studios. Otherwise, they wouldn’t let Dunn Pictures run wild like this.  

Coyote Ugly had tanked hard at the box office, but a few tens of millions in losses? For Disney, with a market value topping $50 billion, that was pocket change—barely a blip.  

At worst, it was a bruise to their ego, giving Dunn something to gloat about.  

From the moment Eisner first targeted Dunn Pictures, he’d taken the Hollywood newbie seriously. But now, he saw he hadn’t taken him seriously enough.  

Dunn’s ability to surprise went way beyond what he’d imagined.  

“Maybe… it’s time to meet this kid face-to-face?” Eisner squinted, mulling it over quietly.  

Know your enemy, win every battle.  

Michael Eisner, a titan who’d dominated Hollywood for years, had rarely stumbled. Yet here he was, tripped up by a rookie like Dunn. Anger and shock aside, he couldn’t help but feel a spark of curiosity.  

He’d never met Dunn. Everything he knew came from media buzz and word of mouth.  

Some things look huge on the surface, but once you talk it out, they shrink to nothing.  

Eisner wouldn’t admit he was considering backing down. With Disney’s muscle, they didn’t need to bow to anyone!  

But sinking massive resources into fighting a company worth less than $200 million? That just wasn’t worth it.  

Lately, shareholders had been emailing him, grumbling about the whole mess.  

Dunn had one thing right: Disney’s film division was weak.  

Ever since Jeffrey Katzenberg left, their animated films had nosedived. Live-action? They were clinging to Jerry Bruckheimer and Harvey Weinstein to hold it together, lacking the swagger of an old-school studio.  

Getting pummeled by Dunn Pictures in such a short time boiled down to one thing: Disney’s movie business was too thin to stand its ground.  

Right now, Disney’s real powerhouse was its TV division.  

Beyond ESPN and the ABC network, Michael Eisner was dead-set on reviving the Disney Channel’s glory days.  

The Disney Channel, a pay-TV service aimed at kids and teens, had been battling Warner’s Cartoon Network and Viacom’s Nickelodeon for years.  

That wasn’t good enough for Eisner.  

In the youth and kids’ market, Disney had to rule.  

Building a cable network from scratch would take too long. To lock in a top spot fast, acquisition was the way to go.  

Eisner had his eye on the Family Entertainment Channel under 20th Century Fox. With 81 million U.S. subscribers, 10 million in Latin America, and 24 million households in Europe, snapping it up would cost at least $500 million.  

Pricey, sure, but once merged with the Disney Channel, they’d dominate affordable family entertainment.  

Compared to that massive market, movie profits were peanuts.  

Eisner smirked at himself. Dunn? Just a wet-behind-the-ears kid with a bit of talent, hopping around Hollywood because he could churn out a few decent films.  

Was it worth stooping to his level?  

Maybe Disney’s string of movie flops had worn him down. Maybe Dunn Pictures’ hot streak and A-list endorsements had thrown him off. Or maybe it was Dunn’s knack for rallying the other giants that had him second-guessing.  

Either way, Eisner wasn’t raging like he had been weeks ago. He felt calm now, brushing off Dunn’s jabs in the papers with a scoff and a shrug.  

“Yeah, it’s time to meet him.”  

…  

The schedule for A Beautiful Mind wasn’t tight, so Dunn took his time filming.  

Eight hours a day, two days off every weekend—no overtime pay needed.  

Mel Gibson wrapped his cameo in no time. The guy didn’t even stop to breathe—just hopped on his private jet straight to the Unsinkable set.  

Then Dunn got a call from Bill Mechanic with some unexpected news.  

“Dunn, Michael Eisner wants to meet you!”  

“Who?”  

Dunn blinked, caught off guard.  

Bill Mechanic spoke slowly. “Disney’s chairman, Michael Eisner!”  

Dunn burst out laughing. “You’re kidding, right? What, is he gonna beg for mercy on his knees?”  

Bill’s tone was dead serious. “Dunn, this isn’t a joke. Eisner passed the message through Ron Meyer. Sounds like he’s sized up the situation and doesn’t want this ban fiasco dragging on.”  

Dunn waved a hand, telling the crew to take a half-hour break, then strolled back to his trailer. “So, Michael Eisner’s waving the white flag?” he said coolly.  

Bill sighed. “Not exactly waving it, no. But with Mel Gibson on our side, the optics are huge. Keeping this up isn’t worth it for either of us.”  

Dunn raised an eyebrow. “What’s your take, Bill?”  

“Like he said, the ban’s just a sideshow,” Bill replied, pausing. “If Disney’s stepping back, and we keep pushing, the other majors won’t be happy.”  

Dunn smirked. “You’re right, Bill. But Eisner’s thinking the same damn thing! Why should I play along with him?”  

“Dunn, you—”  

“Hmph! He started this ban nonsense. Now it’s spinning out of control, and he wants us all to just call it quits? On what grounds?”  

“Because he’s Disney!”  

“Ha!”  

Dunn let out a cocky laugh, then turned icy. “Disney’s nothing special. Don’t tell me I’m full of myself, Bill. Eisner’s been king too long—thinks everyone’s his servant. He’s gotten too comfortable with that attitude!”  

Bill sighed again. “Dunn, dragging this out screws us both. The ban’s gotta end eventually.”  

Dunn’s voice stayed level. “Sure, it messes with the market rules—can’t stick around forever. I get that. But solving it? That’s on my terms, not his.”  

“Dunn, you’re letting your temper get the better of you again.”  

“Nope, Bill, I’m wide awake and cool as hell right now,” Dunn said, steady and firm. “Dunn Pictures is new. I’m not letting it end up like DreamWorks. This is the perfect chance to make a statement with Disney—show all of Hollywood that Dunn Pictures isn’t some pushover they can kick around!”  

Chapter 242: "Blockbuster vs. Netflix" Showdown 

No matter what Michael Eisner’s game plan was—shifting internal conflicts, making peace, or even throwing in the towel—Dunn wasn’t about to give him an inch!  

Since April, Disney had been hammering Dunn from every angle, nearly crushing him. If it weren’t for Spider-Man pulling through, plus the connections and foresight Dunn had built over the years, Disney would’ve swallowed him whole—bones and all.  

Now, Dunn had played his trump card: the "package investment plan." With backing from several industry giants, he finally had the firepower to take on Disney head-to-head.  

And Michael Eisner, seeing the tide turn, wanted to back off? Fat chance!  

You get to swing when it suits you, then bail when the going gets tough? What kind of fantasy world is that? Talk about arrogance!  

Dunn had shown his hand—he wasn’t walking away without a big win. Even if it was just to vent his frustration, he was going to use this chance to teach Disney a lesson! Michael Eisner needed to get it through his head: Dunn might be young, but he’s got serious chops, and he doesn’t take kindly to being pushed around!  

Negotiate nicely, and everything’s on the table. Play dirty? Dunn wouldn’t hold back either.  

Back off?  

No way!  

Plus, pulling out now would kill the ban drama before it even peaked—people might think Dunn was scared of Disney.  

Dunn had this planned out from the start: Disney was the stepping stone for Dunn Films to climb to the top of Hollywood. Everything was in place; all he needed was the final push!  

Back off now and waste it all? Not a chance!  

If they were going to play, they’d play big!  

Dunn Films was going to stand on Disney’s shoulders and look down on Hollywood!  

When that happened, making a move to acquire Universal Pictures would be a no-brainer—Universal would fall right into Dunn Films’ lap.  

…  

Over 40 years, Sumner Redstone had taken Viacom from a family business to a global media titan with bold, brash moves.  

Whatever Viacom’s future held, right now, Redstone was king of the hill.  

Since the 1950s “Paramount Decree” split film production and exhibition, studios couldn’t handle the whole pipeline—making, distributing, and screening—anymore. Everyone knows the real money’s in that kind of monopoly control!  

Viacom owned Paramount Pictures but couldn’t touch theater chains. So Redstone got creative, finding a new way to dominate: video and DVD rentals!  

It was a brilliant move!  

Hollywood’s movie market runs like an assembly line with phased sales: theaters first, then pay-per-view, cable TV, network TV, and finally video/DVD sales and rentals.  

Theaters are the big money-makers, no doubt. But as film output skyrocketed, the rental business became a bigger deal in that sales chain. It’s the last stop—and a critical one.  

In theaters, one print usually serves one screen.  

Rentals? One copy gets reused endlessly—pure profit!  

If Viacom could lock down that final link, they’d have a chokehold on Hollywood.  

And guess what? Redstone pulled it off!  

In 1993, Viacom snagged Paramount. A year later, they dropped $840 million to buy 81.5% of Blockbuster.  

Redstone’s ambition and guts were on full display!  

Blockbuster’s CEO, John Antioco, knew Redstone’s vision and his own role. With that mindset, Blockbuster went on an acquisition spree, snapping up anything that boosted their channels or film rights.  

After a few years, Blockbuster lived up to the hype, nearly monopolizing the rental market. They had over 60,000 employees, 4,141 company-owned stores in the U.S., plus 2,000 franchise locations, and overseas, 1,951 owned stores and 454 franchises.  

No question about it—Blockbuster was the world’s top video and DVD rental company, owning over 90% of the North American market.  

Every day, Hollywood’s cash flowed through Blockbuster.  

Viacom, thanks to Blockbuster, had a louder voice in Hollywood—one even Paramount couldn’t match.  

But even with over 90% of the rental market, about 10% still belonged to small retailers and upstarts.  

And now, with an economic downturn hitting, one of those newbies was struggling and looking to sell.  

Reed Hastings and his assistant Shawn Anderson were headed to Blockbuster’s HQ. They’d scored a meeting with CEO John Antioco.  

Their goal? Sell their two-year-old startup to Blockbuster.  

“Reed, I still think our asking price is nuts!” Shawn said nervously on the way.  

Reed Hastings glanced at him. “$50 million—too high?”  

Shawn grimaced. “Reed, come on. The dot-com bubble’s bursting—we can’t get that kind of offer. And Blockbuster’s a traditional rental company. They don’t do internet.”  

Reed shook his head, unshaken. “Blockbuster or not, the future’s online. Traditional rentals are going to get eaten by internet leasing. Blockbuster looks unstoppable now, but if they don’t adapt soon, they’re toast!”  

Shawn sighed. “That’s not convincing. We’re in a tech crash—traditional businesses are running from the internet, not jumping in.”  

Reed stayed calm. “That’s why we’ve got to lay it all out for John Antioco. If he’s a sharp guy with vision, he’ll see our shine!”  

“Our shine?”  

“Yep. Blockbuster’s done for. The future of rentals belongs to a hybrid like Netflix—online and offline together!” Reed’s voice rang with confidence.  

Shawn couldn’t help but roll his eyes.  

Where was Reed getting this swagger?  

Netflix had just 120,000 users, with monthly actives under 10,000—less than 1% of the North American market.  

Blockbuster? 300 million users!  

It wasn’t even a fair fight.  

Sure, Netflix’s model might look slicker, more forward-thinking. But next to a titan like Blockbuster, who’d listen?  

And here Reed was, hyped to lecture Blockbuster’s CEO on the wonders of online payments.  

It was absurd!  

Fifteen percent of Blockbuster’s revenue came from “late fees”—penalties for overdue rentals.  

Online payments? That’d cut off that cash flow!  

With digital billing, users could dodge late fees entirely. If a rental ran long, they’d just pay online to extend it.  

That kind of “customer-friendly” move was pure internet logic—total opposite of traditional business rules.  

Blockbuster thrived on the old-school rental game. Online payments? No way they’d bite.  

And without online payments, streaming and digital rentals were off the table too.  

Strip those away, and what’s left of Netflix?  

120,000 users.  

Would Blockbuster, with its 300 million, even blink at that?  

Forget $50 million—John Antioco probably wouldn’t cough up $500,000!  

Reed’s vision was nice, but Shawn saw zero chance of it working.  

“What if… I mean, what if Antioco shoots us down? Lower the price?” Shawn asked cautiously.  

“Lower it? No way!” Reed snapped. “When Netflix got its second round of funding, we were valued at $50 million. Now we’ve doubled our users, and our model’s sharper. $50 million’s my floor—it’s what we owe our investors!”  

Shawn let out a long sigh. “This is tough.”  

Reed smirked coldly. “If John Antioco can’t see Netflix’s worth, then we’re done talking. We’ll sit back and watch Blockbuster’s empire crumble!”  

…  

Just as Shawn feared, John Antioco showed zero interest in Netflix.  

Since Redstone tapped him as Blockbuster’s second-ever CEO, Antioco had stuck to Redstone’s bold, aggressive expansion playbook.  

If Blockbuster didn’t want it, it wasn’t worth a second glance.  

Reed Hastings trying to sell Netflix? Just a tiny blip in Blockbuster’s investment radar—not even a footnote. But when Reed pitched transforming Blockbuster with Netflix’s model, Antioco’s patience ran out.  

Put yourself in his shoes: backed by Viacom, trusted by Redstone, steering a brand toward industry domination—who’d take kindly to some kid throwing cold water on that?  

The result? Predictable.  

They parted ways, and not on good terms!