Once upon a time, when Michael Ovitz stomped his foot, Hollywood trembled!
He'd rallied his crew to found CAA, smashing William Morris's monopoly and boosting stars like Tom Hanks, Tom Cruise, Nicole Kidman, and Julia Roberts into the stratosphere.
Not stopping there, he took on the giants, shaking up the Big Six's cozy profit club and fighting for bigger paychecks for actors. Thanks to him, Hollywood birthed the "$20 million club."
At his peak, he orchestrated Sony's buyout of Columbia Pictures and Panasonic's grab of Universal Pictures, landing him the title of Hollywood's Most Influential Person three years running.
In 1995, Michael Ovitz took Michael Eisner's offer, ditched CAA for a new challenge, and stepped in as Disney's president. There, he pulled off another coup, helping Disney snag the ABC Group.
But Ovitz, used to calling the shots, couldn't stomach Eisner's high-handed style. Sparks flew fast, and within a year, Eisner shelled out a $120 million severance to boot him out of Disney.
Post-Disney, Ovitz didn't sulk. After failing to reclaim CAA, he started fresh, launching AMG—Artists Management Group—a new agency.
AMG was still a fledgling outfit, nowhere near a powerhouse.
But compared to the industry's Big Five—CAA, WME, UTA, Endeavor—AMG was the only one gutsy enough to take on Disney headfirst!
Why? Ovitz held a grudge against Eisner—deep, burning resentment!
If not for Eisner, Ovitz would still be running CAA, perched atop Hollywood, not grinding it out as a small-time startup founder.
The enemy of my enemy is my friend.
Dunn was stoked about teaming up with Michael Ovitz.
It wasn't just Ovitz's wide network or his beef with Disney—his track record was unreal: Sony-Columbia, Panasonic-Universal, Disney-ABC. The guy was a dealmaking wizard.
Dunn had his sights set on Universal Pictures forever, but pulling off a buyout that massive needed someone with next-level skills.
No question—Michael Ovitz was the guy!
Bryan Lourd…
Back when Dunn nabbed Marvel Entertainment, Bryan Lourd handled it. It worked, but Dunn wasn't thrilled. The process dragged, costs piled up, and Dunn had to rope in Endeavor and Warner for backup—triple insurance.
Lourd had been Ovitz's assistant back in the day, and honestly, his skills didn't quite measure up.
So Dunn made a special trip to CAA.
Over the years, Dunn Films and CAA had a solid thing going. Bryan Lourd welcomed Dunn warmly, not a hint of chill from Disney's ban.
Some stuff Dunn couldn't say outright. He sighed, "Bryan, about this ban—I owe you an apology."
Bryan waved it off like it was nothing. "No need! Disney… hmph, the way I see it, if Michael Eisner keeps this up, the shareholders'll kick him out in a few years!"
Dunn's eyebrow twitched. History seemed to agree.
"Bryan, we're old pals. No way I'd let this mess drag CAA down," Dunn said, all righteous and noble. "I know Disney gave you guys an ultimatum. I'm not about to watch you get stuck picking between me and them."
Bryan got serious. "Dunn, don't even sweat it! Truth is, our work with Disney's been pretty thin these past few years. Their 'ultimatum' barely moves the needle for us."
"Even a small hit's still a hit, right?" Dunn shook his head. "My directing contract's with CAA, sure, but you know as well as I do—next few years, I'm only shooting my own company's films. I'll take a token fee. That's not exactly a goldmine for CAA."
Bryan laughed. "Dunn, you're selling yourself short! You think CAA's banking on your directing commissions? You're Dunn Walker—world's top-grossing director. We're in it for your clout!"
"Clout? That was then. With Disney's ban out there, I'm less a draw and more a hot potato now, huh?"
"Partners stick together through the rough patches! Dunn, don't worry about CAA—just focus on handling Disney."
Dunn shook his head. "No way. This mess started because of me—I can't just sit back. After that shakeup years ago, CAA's only now catching its breath. I'm not letting my drama drag you back down. Bryan, you've got shareholders to answer to."
"Well…"
Bryan's face twisted with unease.
Dunn let out a quiet breath, keeping it light. "Here's the deal, Bryan. If my being here's just gonna cause headaches for CAA, I shouldn't stick around. Let's call it quits on the contract."
"What?" Bryan's jaw dropped.
Dunn waved a hand. "I've thought it through. It's good for you, good for me. You dodge Disney's heat, and I get to rally more backup."
"You mean…" Bryan's sharp—he caught on quick. "Michael Ovitz?"
Across Hollywood's Big Five agencies, they'd all gotten Disney's ban memo. To keep things smooth with Disney, they'd likely give Dunn the polite brush-off.
Sure, Dunn Films churned out hits, but so what? They made, what, a handful of movies a year? Disney pumped out at least 20—plus talk shows, TV series, cartoons, you name it.
Agencies live off commissions.
It's not about quality—it's about volume.
The lone wildcard? AMG, the new kid on the block. With Ovitz—Disney's sworn enemy—at the helm, they'd roll out the red carpet for Dunn.
Dunn didn't dodge it. "Yep, Michael Ovitz. Disney's too big—I've gotta pull in every ally I can, stack up some firepower."
Bryan sighed, a twinge of guilt creeping in as they parted ways. "Alright. I can set you up with Ovitz. Contract's off, but Dunn, listen—CAA's always your friend. If you're in a pinch, just say the word. Disney? I couldn't care less!"
Dunn laughed hearty. "Don't worry, Bryan—I'll hit you up when I need you. And don't forget, Nat's acting contract's still with CAA."
That hit Bryan with an extra pang of regret.
Natalie Portman had jumped from WME to CAA because of Dunn.
She might be a B-lister now, stuck in supporting roles, but with Dunn in her corner, her future was a no-brainer.
Stepping out of CAA, Dunn spotted a few reporters camped at the door.
His bodyguards swooped in, ready to muscle through.
But then a shout cut through: "Dunn! Dunn! Director Walker, I heard Disney slapped you with a ban—is that true?"
Dunn's heart skipped, alarm bells ringing.
Then he relaxed, exhaling.
Disney had fired off over a hundred ban notices—all to bigwigs. Even with that, a slip or two was bound to leak.
A little chatter didn't matter. As long as everyone stuck together, zipped their lips, and denied it flat-out for the sake of the industry, it'd hold.
Anyone who fessed up publicly? They'd be Hollywood's public enemy number one!
Dunn stopped, motioning the reporter over with a smile. "You're from The New Yorker, huh? I like that mag. Alright, you get one question."
The young reporter practically vibrated with excitement, blurting, "Mr. Walker, rumor's going around that Disney banned you, barring you from all their shows—is it true?"
The leak had morphed—way off from the real deal.
"Ban? What ban? Never heard of it," Dunn said, putting on a puzzled look before grinning. "We're in a free market here—stuff like that's nonsense. Yeah, Disney and I had a little friction lately, but that's just business as usual. A ban? No clue what you're talking about."
"But I heard Disney's CEO, Michael Eisner, is seriously pissed at you—is that legit?"
Dunn chuckled. "Where'd you pick that up?"
"I… uh, just hearsay. Checking it out!"
"Second question, huh? Can't answer that—I don't know. Never met Eisner, never talked to him. No idea where this 'pissed' thing's coming from. But I'd bet a guy running a giant like Disney's got a big heart—too classy to sweat a small fry like me. That'd be beneath him."
With that, Dunn flicked his hand and strode off.
But inside, doubts swirled.
The reporter zeroed in on Michael Eisner. Was he the one letting this slip on purpose?
Things just got a whole lot messier.