211-213

Chapter 211: Sending a Greeting Card  

Dunn said casually, “Coyote Ugly comes out on August 4th, right? Heh, no way our film’s shifting its slot. But don’t forget, that same day, Sony’s got Hollow Man and Warner’s got Space Cowboys hitting theaters too!”  

“Our film?”  

Hearing that phrase, Natalie’s head spun a little. She felt a mix of shyness and sweetness bubbling up.  

“What’s on your mind? You zoning out?” Dunn gave her a nudge.  

Natalie swatted his arm in annoyance. “You’re the one zoning out! I was just… wait, are you saying you want to boost Hollow Man and Space Cowboys to gang up on Coyote Ugly?”  

Dunn nodded. “That’s the plan. Dunn Films doesn’t have any beef with Sony, but we’re not exactly buddies either. Helping them out here could earn us some goodwill. Plus, Hollow Man cost a hefty $95 million, and they’ve done a solid job with the early buzz—it’s got some pull.”  

Natalie nodded thoughtfully. “And Space Cowboys… that’s got even more draw. Clint Eastwood directing and starring, with Tommy Lee Jones in the mix—those are heavy hitters.”  

“Exactly. The fight for this release window’s just as brutal as June’s was.” Dunn stretched lazily and flopped onto the bed. “Clint Eastwood’s a lone wolf, but that old guy’s a real cowboy—tough and loyal. Hey, if I do him a favor, what do you think he’ll do?”  

Natalie smirked. “You want him to join Dunn Films? Dream on. He’s tight with Warner. Save your little favors.”  

Dunn pulled a mock-wounded face. “Ouch, babe, that stings. You think I’m doing this for Dunn Films?”  

“Isn’t it?”  

“Dunn Films might not be on Warner’s level, but we’ve already got Tim Burton, James Cameron, Ang Lee, Sam Mendes, Luc Besson—big-name directors in the bag. Clint Eastwood’s great, sure, but we don’t need him!”  

“Huh?” Natalie blinked rapidly, caught off guard.  

Dunn shot her a look, then reached out, pulling her into his arms. He planted a kiss on her soft cheek. “It’s for you, you little goof!”  

Natalie stared at him, stunned. “Me?”  

“Yeah, you! Don’t you love working with big directors? Eastwood’s one of the biggest. I do him this solid, and who knows—maybe you’ll get a chance to collab with him down the line.”  

Natalie’s heart melted, but she wasn’t about to let him off easy. She huffed, “Oh, sure, buttering me up. You’re just using this to take a swing at Disney’s movie and acting like it’s all for me.”  

Dunn stifled a laugh, feigning helplessness. “Fine, if you don’t want this chance… I’ll just pass it along to Nicole, or maybe Kate or Charlize…”  

“Don’t you dare!”  

Natalie flipped over, straddling him. Seeing his teasing grin, she flushed with embarrassment and started tickling him, gritting her teeth. “You jerk! Out there flirting with everyone, then coming home to mess with me—I’m gonna take you down!”  

“Haha!”  

Dunn wasn’t about to back down. He fought back instantly.  

The bed creaked and swayed as laughter filled the room.  

Before long, that cheerful noise mixed with other, less describable sounds of delight…  

“What’d you say? Weston’s gone to Dunn Films?”  

Tom Rothman’s face darkened the second he heard the news from his secretary. His calm demeanor shattered, replaced by a roar.  

The secretary shrank back, replying timidly, “Yes, Mr. Weston Cotton’s been named VP at Dunn Films. He’s handling strategic development, film marketing, brand promotion, stuff like that. And…”  

“And what?”  

“And he’s also doubling as the CEO’s assistant.”  

Crash!  

The pen in Tom Rothman’s hand clattered onto the desk, startling the young secretary pale.  

The last time Tom lost it like this was when X-Men got obliterated at the box office by Spider-Man.  

“Step out for a bit,” Tom said, waving her off weakly as he let out a long sigh.  

He got up slowly and trudged to the window, his expression heavy.  

X-Men tanked, and Weston Cotton took the fall, getting axed from 20th Century Fox.  

But the board wasn’t dumb. They probably saw through Tom’s little games. They just went with the “sacrifice a pawn to save the king” move for the sake of stability.  

Tom had even caught wind that News Corp’s higher-ups weren’t happy with his recent moves. If he kept screwing up, they’d likely force him out as the majority shareholder.  

Dunn Walker’s name popped into his head out of nowhere.  

Why did it always come back to him?  

Thinking it over, it hit him—Tom was usually the one throwing punches, while Dunn just played defense.  

And the kicker? Dunn’s defense was airtight, turning every move into a counterattack.  

Recalling their smooth collaboration on Wedding Crashers last spring and summer, Tom felt a pang of unease.  

“Maybe… I’ve been underestimating him?”  

Tom narrowed his eyes, gazing into the distance.  

Lately, he’d been fed up with Disney’s responses—especially his old pal Joe Roth pulling the rug out from under him.  

Back then, scared of the board’s backlash and desperate for an ally, Tom hadn’t dared push back against Joe. But now? The X-Men fiasco had blown over. He could hit back with confidence.  

Still…  

Was it worth it over someone like Dunn Walker?  

Tom was sharp—especially with people. His knack for subtle maneuvers and behind-the-scenes plays had carried him up the ranks at 20th Century Fox to CEO.  

To him, profit trumped friendship, and friendship trumped pride.  

So, in his mind, patching things up with Dunn wasn’t about ego. The real trick was figuring out how to handle Disney.  

Dunn’s star was rising fast these past few years, but he was still just a 22-year-old kid, four years into the game. Even if Disney stumbled ten or twenty times, it’d still be Disney—untouchable Disney!  

Tom sank into the sofa, lit a cigar, and took slow drags, lost in thought.  

“No matter what, I can’t piss off Disney!”  

That was his first call.  

Dunn Films was growing quick, but even at this pace, catching up to Disney’s scale and clout would take a decade or two of groundwork.  

“But Dunn… he’s a dark horse. Going head-to-head with him isn’t smart.”  

Tom shook his head, thinking of the resources and connections he’d thrown at Dunn over the past three months—total waste.  

So what if Dunn Films poached Bill Mechanic and a handful of Fox vets? Big deal.  

In business, it’s all about the bottom line.  

No room for loyalty or grudges—that’s how a real businessman rolls!  

Tom racked his brain but couldn’t pin down what deep beef he even had with Dunn. Was this cutthroat rivalry really necessary?  

He thought back to late June, when Spider-Man, Gone in 60 Seconds, and X-Men duked it out in a brutal box office showdown. It wasn’t worth it. Three Hollywood giants slugging it out made them a laughingstock and let someone else cash in.  

Aardman Animations’ Chicken Run slipped through the cracks and thrived. So far, it’d raked in $67.8 million in North America and over $73 million overseas.  

A global haul topping $140 million—more than Gone in 60 Seconds and X-Men combined!  

And that flick only cost $45 million to make!  

While Dunn Films, Fox, and Disney tore each other apart, Chicken Run quietly made bank. Maybe Spider-Man, nearing $1.1 billion worldwide, didn’t care—but Tom sure did.  

Those damn Brits had made a fool of them!  

“Hey, someone get in here!”  

Tom slammed the sofa and bellowed. His secretary scurried back in. He barked, “In my name, send Weston Cotton an email—no, scratch that, send a greeting card. Tell him I’m congratulating him on the new gig!”  

Chapter 212: Fire Away!  

The summer of 2000 was shaping up to be the fiercest Hollywood showdown in years.  

After the whole country watched Dunn Films, Disney, and Fox slug it out in late June, early August was gearing up for another big clash.  

Sure, it wasn’t the earth-shaking level of Spider-Man, Gone in 60 Seconds, Chicken Run, or [blank—seems like a typo in the original], but it was still a wild ride—only in a different way.  

Hollow Man had a killer hook: a scientist nails an invisibility potion, turns into an invisible dude, and starts abusing his powers.  

With Spider-Man’s hype just starting to fade, fans were still buzzing about “superpowers.” Hollow Man slid right into that sweet spot, riding Spider-Man’s coattails and pulling in a ton of attention.  

Surveys showed audiences were way more hyped for Hollow Man than the other two films dropping at the same time. Pre-sale ticket numbers from theaters backed that up—it was outpacing the pack.  

Makes sense. Compared to Coyote Ugly and Space Cowboys, Hollow Man was the real A-list blockbuster.  

Still, Disney and Warner had massive media empires behind them, and their promo game was unreal.  

Pretty soon, the buzz in the press was all about Coyote Ugly versus Space Cowboys.  

Just as Hollywood insiders were settling in for another epic showdown, a third player jumped in—Dunn Films!  

Dunn himself, who barely showed his face even during Spider-Man’s promo run, suddenly popped up everywhere. He hit a talk show and did interviews with three major outlets.  

People figured he was trying to reignite Spider-Man’s spark, push its North American haul past $500 million, and maybe warm up the crowd for Dunn Films’ next release, Dancer in the Dark.  

Nope. He didn’t even mention those two. Instead, he went off about two other companies’ upcoming flicks—Space Cowboys and Hollow Man.  

“Clint Eastwood’s movies are always a sure bet. I grew up on his films, and honestly, his style’s had a huge impact on how I see movies myself… Yeah, I’m definitely grabbing a ticket for Space Cowboys. It’s gonna be awesome.”  

“Hollow Man’s got a cool concept—sounds like something straight out of a comic book. The invisible guy idea? Tons of room to play with that… Yep, I’m curious and pumped. Natalie and I are hitting the theater for it. Hope Paul Verhoeven doesn’t let me down.”  

“Coyote Ugly? Sorry, couldn’t care less about that one! Neither could my friends or colleagues. I hear it’s about a bunch of strippers—seriously, what kind of values is that pushing? Telling girls to go be strippers?”  

“Good thing it’s PG-13, so the little ones can’t see it. But parents, heads up—if your daughter’s underage or not mature enough, steer clear of this twisted-values mess. It could mess up a kid’s whole life.”  

…  

Dunn’s words hit like a freaking bomb.  

Since Titanic, the media hadn’t heard him unload like this in ages. Sure, his quieter days brought some stability to Hollywood, but stability’s the last thing the press wants!  

Now, Dunn Walker was back, guns blazing, taking dead aim at the soon-to-drop Coyote Ugly!  

Pretty much every entertainment rag ran his quotes. Criticism of Coyote Ugly flooded in like a tidal wave.  

The clueless public ate it up, but industry folks saw right through it.  

This wasn’t just about Coyote Ugly—it was a shot at its producer, Jerry Bruckheimer, and Disney itself!  

Insiders who knew the score were quietly impressed. This young guy was something else.  

Not even fully established, and he’s already picking a fight with Disney? Gutsy. Ballsy.  

Warner’s president, Alan Horn, read the coverage and cracked up. He knew Dunn was gunning for Disney, but by hyping Space Cowboys in the process, Dunn was doing Warner a solid too.  

He called Dunn up, all warm and chummy. “Dunn, you wanna see Space Cowboys and buy a ticket? Come on, don’t be a stranger! How about I set up an internal screening? Bring the whole Dunn Films crew—on me.”  

Dunn laughed. “You’re too kind, man. No need for a private screening—I’m happy to chip in a ticket for a good movie.”  

“Alright, I won’t bug you then. Oh, and if you ever need a hand… just say the word,” Alan said, his tone all friendly and fatherly.  

Dunn smirked to himself. Didn’t expect to cash in a favor with Alan Horn that easy.  

This little move was paying off big time!  

Earlier, he’d even gotten an email from Columbia Pictures’ chairwoman, Amy Pascal. Short, sharp, polite—thanking him while subtly fishing for a chance to collab.  

Columbia’s been in the red for years, desperate for a solid investment to turn things around.  

Dunn, the box office king, was obviously their top pick.  

Amy had her eye on Marvel’s superheroes, asking if Dunn might be up for co-developing the Fantastic Four series.  

Dunn nearly snorted when he saw her pitch.  

In his past life, Amy Pascal had swooped in with surgical precision, snagging the Spider-Man rights from Marvel and turning it into Columbia’s golden goose.  

Now, with Spider-Man locked tight in Dunn’s grip—and a smashing solo success—she’s pivoting to Fantastic Four.  

But Marvel’s heroes are Dunn Films’ crown jewels. No way he’s handing a rival a loaded gun by partnering up.  

So, despite Amy’s olive branch, Dunn had to politely pass.  

…  

Space Cowboys director Clint Eastwood and Hollow Man’s Paul Verhoeven both sent thanks through their agents.  

With Dunn vouching for their films, they were feeling a lot more confident heading into early August.  

Meanwhile, Coyote Ugly was getting hammered.  

The movie hadn’t even hit theaters, and it was already drowning in hate.  

Jerry Bruckheimer and Disney’s marketing team scrambled to do damage control, but it wasn’t working.  

That’s just how it goes—good news stays quiet, bad news spreads like wildfire!  

Jerry was so pissed he could’ve spat blood!  

Over at Disney, though, production chief Joe Roth was taking it easy.  

He ran Touchstone Pictures, handling sci-fi, action, and war flicks. Coyote Ugly fell under Richard Cook, another production chair who came from theater ops—an outsider overseeing comedies, musicals, and the like.  

A while back, Spider-Man had crushed Joe’s slate, leaving him gasping for air. Richard Cook had even taken a few private jabs at him over it.  

They were rivals at work, after all.  

Now, with Dunn unloading on Coyote Ugly, Joe couldn’t help but feel a little smug.  

“Hmph, didn’t you say Dunn was just some lucky punk? Well, here’s your shot—let’s see who’s the real fool here!”  

Joe smirked, chuckling to himself.  

Inside Disney, Michael Eisner loved pitting three or four execs against each other in the same department. Sure, it sparked competition, but it also planted seeds of instability.  

That mess? It’d end up being one of the fuses that got Eisner booted by the board later on. 

Chapter 213: Dominating the Summer Box Office!  

August 4th, Friday—another weekend kicked off.  

Theaters buzzed with life. Crowds surged in, restless and eager, forming long lines to snag tickets and file inside.  

Dunn brought Natalie along, flanked by two plainclothes bodyguards. Sporting sunglasses and a baseball cap, they slipped into a theater unnoticed to check out Clint Eastwood’s latest flick, Space Cowboys.  

Sure, Dunn had said in interviews he’d buy tickets for both Hollow Man and Space Cowboys, but truth be told, he couldn’t care less about Hollow Man.  

Dutch director Paul Verhoeven hit Hollywood in the ‘80s and churned out some solid hits—RoboCop, Total Recall, Basic Instinct—all box office gold.  

But Basic Instinct stirred up a storm of controversy alongside its success. Verhoeven got caught in the media crossfire, and it seemed like his spark fizzled out. His films started sliding downhill.  

Hollow Man had a cool concept and slick effects, but it lacked fleshed-out characters or a decent story. It felt like they blew $95 million on a glorified B-movie—rushed, hollow, and forgettable.  

By comparison, every Clint Eastwood film was worth watching again and again.  

That said… the fans clearly didn’t agree.  

The whole “invisibility potion” and “invisible man” gimmick in Hollow Man was just too darn irresistible!  

After the weekend wrapped, the North American box office numbers rolled in.  

Despite getting roasted by heavyweights like Entertainment Weekly, New York Post, Time, and Los Angeles Times, the sci-fi thriller Hollow Man topped the charts with a whopping $26.41 million!  

In second place was Universal’s Nutty Professor II: The Klumps, which hit theaters at the end of July. It pulled in $18.16 million over the three days.  

Third spot went to the widely praised Space Cowboys, raking in $18.09 million—just a hair behind second place.  

So, what about Disney’s Coyote Ugly, released the same day as Hollow Man and Space Cowboys? Was it next?  

Nope!  

Fourth place went to DreamWorks’ What Lies Beneath, already in its third week, with $13.8 million.  

And still no Coyote Ugly!  

Spider-Man, the summer’s unstoppable juggernaut, held fifth place after 44 days in theaters, earning $7.85 million.  

Finally, at sixth, came Jerry Bruckheimer’s first musical, Coyote Ugly. It scraped by with just $6.55 million over its opening three days.  

Seventh was Disney subsidiary Miramax’s Scary Movie, pulling in $4.21 million…  

Another loss piled on!  

Back at the end of June, Spider-Man crushed Disney’s action flick Gone in 60 Seconds with untouchable swagger.  

Now, Gone in 60 Seconds was limping along with a measly $490,000 in North America and zilch overseas. Sure, it’d eventually crawl past $100 million globally, but with a $90 million budget and $60 million in marketing, that “win” tasted pretty bitter.  

In July, Miramax’s Scary Movie burst onto the scene as a dark horse, causing a stir and giving Disney a rare moment to shine.  

But let’s not kid ourselves—no matter how much praise it got, Scary Movie never once outdid Spider-Man on the weekly charts.  

Spider-Man was just too huge, too hot. People shrugged off Scary Movie trailing behind as no big deal.  

That didn’t change the fact that Spider-Man steamrolled it at the box office!  

By August, Spider-Man had hit $450 million in North America, nearing market saturation. Disney rolled out their next contender, Coyote Ugly.  

This was their big shot to outgross Spider-Man this summer and reclaim some pride!  

But Dunn didn’t play by the rules. He pulled a dirty, self-sacrificing move—easing off Spider-Man’s promotion and throwing his weight behind Hollow Man and Space Cowboys.  

Disney’s marketing team and Jerry Bruckheimer racked their brains but never saw this lose-lose tactic coming.  

Hurt the enemy a thousand, take eight hundred in friendly fire!  

By hyping Warner and Columbia’s new releases, Dunn tanked everything else—including Spider-Man and Coyote Ugly!  

And yeah, it worked again.  

Sure, Spider-Man’s weekend haul dropped about $1.5 million below projections. But with its current earnings, who cared about a measly $1.5 million?  

Reputation mattered more!  

In the 2000 summer season, Dunn Films used Spider-Man to choke out three Disney movies—Gone in 60 Seconds, Scary Movie, and Coyote Ugly.  

One company, wiping out the competition!  

This summer, Dunn owned the box office, and Spider-Man was the nightmare dangling over Disney’s head!  

DreamWorks wasn’t doing hot—business was shaky. Lucky for them, their big shareholder was Paul Allen, Microsoft co-founder and a top-five Forbes billionaire. He didn’t sweat the small stuff like money.  

The one really feeling the pinch was Steven Spielberg.  

To boost performance, Spielberg was personally churning out three films a year—directing some, producing others. It was a brutal workload. But even with all his talent, saving the sinking DreamWorks ship solo was a tall order.  

Jeffrey Katzenberg was still burning cash on animation, while David Geffen was off doing something even wilder—pouring money into a music division that hadn’t paid off at all.  

Geffen, the second-biggest shareholder, could waste cash all he wanted, and no one could stop him. But Katzenberg? Spielberg wasn’t thrilled with his spending spree.  

Spielberg swung by Katzenberg’s office again, grinning. “Congrats, man!”  

Katzenberg blinked, pointing at himself. “You talking to me?”  

Spielberg chuckled. “Haven’t seen the news? Disney’s having a rough go—losing face and cash left and right!”  

Katzenberg smirked, dripping sarcasm. “Oh, tell me about it. I’ve said it before—a company’s got a soul, and it reflects its leader. Michael Eisner’s all arrogance and iron fists. Running into Dunn, who’s even cockier and tougher? No surprise he’s eating dirt!”  

Spielberg, who’d dealt with Dunn plenty, shook his head. “Jeffrey, you’ve got it wrong. Dunn… he’s not like Eisner. He’s mature beyond his years—doesn’t even feel like a kid.”  

Katzenberg wasn’t buying it. “Mature? Come on. If he were mature, would he flip the table on Disney like this?”  

Spielberg paused, then said slowly, “I think… this might be a brilliant move on his part.”  

“Oh? How so?”  

“You forget? A while back, Dunn Films floated an offer to buy our animation division.”  

Katzenberg’s face soured at the mention of that.  

The DreamWorks animation department was his baby—he’d poured his heart and soul into it. Unless push came to shove, no way he’d sell it off.  

“So yeah, Dunn Walker’s a whiz at making movies, but his personality? Still got that young-guy swagger and pride.”  

Spielberg’s expression turned serious. “Jeffrey, you think Dunn Films isn’t up to snagging the animation division?”  

Katzenberg knew Spielberg had been itching to ditch the money-losing animation arm and focus on live-action. He shot back, “You think they are? Here at DreamWorks, we’ve got Allen’s deep pockets and me running the show, and it’s still a struggle. Hand it to Dunn Films, and he’s gonna turn it into gold overnight?”  

Spielberg nodded, a slight smile creeping in. “That’s the key right there!”  

Katzenberg raised an eyebrow, staring at him.  

“I don’t know if you’ve heard, but… Dunn once pitched an offer to buy Universal Pictures!” Spielberg lowered his voice—this was industry hush-hush.  

DreamWorks and Universal were tight. Universal handled distribution for all of DreamWorks’ mainstream releases, so the higher-ups swapped plenty of inside scoop.  

Katzenberg scoffed. “That’s a joke—you’re taking it seriously?”  

Even at its lowest, Universal wouldn’t fall to being bought out by Dunn Films. Look at the past few years—who’d owned Universal?  

Panasonic!  

Seagram!  

Vivendi!  

Dunn Films was on a roll, sure, but taking over Universal? They weren’t there yet.  

Then it clicked—Katzenberg caught Spielberg’s drift.  

“Wait a sec…”  

His eyes lit up with a flicker of shock. Even with all his experience, he couldn’t help but feel rattled. “You’re saying… he’s making this big stand against Disney because… because…”  

Spielberg made a calming gesture. “Just a hunch. But from the few times I’ve dealt with Dunn, the guy’s got a method to his madness. He’s polite, grounded—not at all like the cocky front he puts on for the press.”  

Katzenberg took a sharp breath, mulling it over before nodding silently. “If this is all some calculated act by Dunn, that kid… he’s something else.”  

“Yeah, he’s full of surprises,” Spielberg said with a long sigh. “He’s already got three movies past a billion bucks at the box office. Me? Not a single one…”  

“Steven!” Katzenberg cut in. “To me, you’re still the best director in Hollywood!”