Warner's dominance didn't scare Dunn. This wasn't 1996 anymore, when he'd just stepped into Hollywood.
Now, Dunn was a top-tier director under the AA banner, working hand-in-hand with PR guru Brian Lord and sharing a tight bond with Twentieth Century Fox chairman Bill Mechanic.
By his side, he had heavyweights like George Lucas, a Jewish mogul, and behind him stood the powerful Francis Coppola as his backup.
Sure, Warner Pictures was a force to be reckoned with, but Dunn wasn't without his own leverage to stand toe-to-toe with them.
Worst case, he'd flip the table, drag all the grudges into the media spotlight, and let everyone go down together!
On August 7th, *Star Wars Episode I: The Phantom Menace* officially wrapped production.
The very next day, August 8th, Dunn took Natalie to Las Vegas for a little fun. By chance, they ran into Steven Spielberg and his family.
This time, Dunn didn't play it cool. He walked right up, shaking hands enthusiastically. "Steven, hey! I just watched *Saving Private Ryan* yesterday—man, it was incredible!"
Natalie, standing beside him, rolled her eyes internally. This guy—lying through his teeth without even blushing!
The movie had just wrapped yesterday, and everyone was busy celebrating at a party. When would he have had time to watch anything?
Steven Spielberg's weathered face broke into a smile. "What a coincidence, Dunn. Running into you here! Your movie… it's done?"
"Yeah, we just wrapped, so I brought Nat here to unwind a bit."
Spielberg's gaze shifted to the fresh-faced girl next to Dunn. Natalie Portman flashed a sweet, clever smile. "Hi, Director Spielberg. I watched your movie yesterday, and I'm still blown away."
Spielberg shook her hand gently, then turned to Dunn with a playful warning. "You better not bully this little fellow Jew of mine, young man."
Dunn burst out laughing. "If anything, I'm the one who should be worried about her bullying me!"
Natalie shot him a mock glare, and the two of them shared a grin.
Spielberg could sense the genuine warmth between them and nodded approvingly. "Well, I won't keep you young folks. Call me if you need anything."
With that, he handed Dunn a business card.
Dunn's tense nerves finally eased. It seemed like the bad blood between him and Spielberg was finally water under the bridge.
"Absolutely!"
Dunn bowed slightly, keeping his posture humble, every bit the respectful junior.
Spielberg nodded, then paused as something occurred to him. "Oh, by the way, I heard from Brian you've run into some trouble?"
Dunn froze for a second.
His tangle with Warner wasn't news to the big players—Bill Mechanic, Brian Lord, George Lucas—he'd talked it over with them early on. They'd all promised that if Warner dared to throw their weight around and strong-arm him into selling the rights, they'd step in.
But he hadn't expected Brian to move so fast and already loop in Steven Spielberg.
After all, Dunn and Spielberg were Brian Lord's two aces in the hole.
Strength in numbers, right? Warner Brothers wasn't an easy foe to tackle.
"Yeah, I've got the film rights to a book, and Warner… they want to buy it. But I've already got plans for it and don't want to sell." Dunn kept it short and sweet, trusting Spielberg's smarts to fill in the blanks.
Sure enough, Steven Spielberg's expression turned serious.
He'd always despised the bullying tactics of the Big Six studios—that's why he'd founded DreamWorks in the first place. It'd been a bumpy road, and Warner Brothers was one of the culprits.
Now, with Dunn Films facing similar pressure, Spielberg felt a pang of empathy.
"I've got the gist of it. I'll have a word with Warner. But you've got to hold your own too," Spielberg said, laying the groundwork for a counterstrike against Warner Brothers in just a few words.
It was a win-win—helping Dunn Films while boosting DreamWorks' clout.
Dunn jumped at the offer, his eyes practically sparkling. "In that case, I'll head back to LA tomorrow!"
Steven Spielberg gave a small nod, his tone warm but firm. "I believe DreamWorks and Dunn Films will team up on some movie projects down the line."
At this point, no one in Hollywood could dismiss Dunn as some lucky upstart. The back-to-back successes of *Titanic* and *My Big Fat Greek Wedding* had proven he could hold his own among the industry's elite.
After parting ways with Spielberg, Dunn turned to Natalie with a hint of guilt. "Nat…"
Natalie tilted her pretty face up at him and smiled. "Let's just head back to LA tomorrow. Las Vegas isn't that big a deal."
Dunn sighed and pulled her into a gentle hug.
What a great girl.
---
Back in Los Angeles, Dunn pulled every string he could. He was done playing defense—he'd take the fight to Warner and crank up the pressure.
He might not have their muscle yet, but he sure as hell wasn't some coward waiting to get steamrolled!
That day, Barry Meyer, Warner Brothers' president and CEO, was losing his mind.
Warner hadn't been doing great lately. Last year, not a single Warner film cracked the top ten at the box office! This year wasn't looking much better—every Warner release so far had tanked.
Their best shot at the annual top ten now rested on New Line Cinema, their subsidiary, with *Blade* and *Rush Hour*.
But could two mid-budget flicks turn the tide?
Barry Meyer wasn't holding his breath.
And then, just when things couldn't get worse, he—a top dog at Warner—started getting calls from Hollywood heavyweights, all complaining that he was unfair to Dunn Walker!
Barry Meyer was dumbfounded. When had he ever pressured Dunn Walker? If anything, as an old-school movie guy, he admired Dunn's talent.
Warner's status aside, who was Barry Meyer to stoop to picking on a kid? That'd be embarrassing if word got out!
But this had to be legit.
The calls weren't just from Dunn's agent, Brian Lord. They came from Italian titan Francis Coppola, Jewish moguls George Lucas and Steven Spielberg, and even Twentieth Century Fox's head honcho, Bill Mechanic!
Barry Meyer was clueless but knew this wasn't small potatoes.
Furious, he summoned his assistant and barked, "Find out what's going on—now!"
Five minutes later, the assistant was back with the full story.
Turns out, Jeff Robinov, president of Warner Pictures (a Warner Brothers subsidiary), had his eye on a fantasy novel he wanted to adapt into a movie. Problem was, Dunn Walker had snatched up the rights ages ago.
Jeff figured Dunn Films didn't have the juice to handle a big IP like that and thought it should go to Warner Pictures instead. He'd even teamed up with the author, J.K. Rowling, to lean on Dunn.
Dunn, young and fiery, wasn't about to back down. So he rallied his connections to fight for what was fair.
Barry Meyer's face turned purple with rage. He was pissed at Jeff Robinov for throwing Warner's weight around and making them look bad, but he was also ticked off at Dunn Walker for not knowing his place.
A fantasy project? That's big money. Dunn Films couldn't possibly swing it solo.
Warner Pictures stepping in meant they had the confidence to bring it to the big screen, not let it gather dust in Dunn's hands.
Couldn't he just work with Warner?
Did he not trust their chops?
As one of Warner Brothers' most powerful and influential figures, Barry Meyer always put Warner's interests first.
He wasn't about to waste energy feuding with a kid like Dunn, but a little lesson? That was fair game.
"Get Alan Horn on this. Sort it out. If we can strike a deal, great—work together. If not, we walk away. We're a movie company, not a bunch of thuggish jerks!"
Barry Meyer's word was law. Then he shifted gears. "Oh, and find out when Dunn's new movie hits theaters!"