In the early '90s, Paramount was Hollywood's top-performing studio. Sumner Redstone took notice and shelled out a whopping $10 billion to acquire it.
$10 billion—what does that even mean?
For context, Sony, even after getting burned by Hollywood, spent $5 billion to buy Columbia Pictures—a move that shocked the world. Then Panasonic dropped $6.5 billion to snag Universal Studios.
Here's the kicker: Universal came with Universal Music as a bonus, while Paramount was just a movie studio—no music division.
Once Paramount became a subsidiary of Viacom, things shifted fast. Redstone saw movies as too risky and refused to pump more cash into Paramount.
That left the studio's execs scrambling, casting a wide net for investors in the market.
Take Tomb Raider, which just hit theaters with stellar box office numbers—a perfect example.
Who'd have guessed Paramount didn't put a single penny into it before rolling cameras?
Step one: They tapped tax rebates in Germany and the UK, pocketing $22 million.
Step two: Leveraging the Tomb Raider game's popularity and Angelina Jolie's star power, they pre-sold overseas rights in Germany, Italy, Japan, Australia, the UK, and France, raking in $65 million.
Step three: They sold North American TV rights to HBO for a bargain $10 million (thanks to a family connection).
With those three moves, Tomb Raider secured $97 million before shooting even started. After some legal fees, they launched production with a $95 million budget.
Paramount wove a beautiful web of partnerships.
Every cent Tomb Raider earned was pure profit for them!
Sounds great, right? But Paramount's chairwoman, Sherry Lansing, was fed up with this fundraising dance.
Sure, Paramount dodged the investment risk, but with Tomb Raider's juicy box office haul, how much would they actually pocket? Just North America and a few minor overseas markets.
The cake had already been sliced up and handed out via pre-sales.
Dunn Films, on the other hand, boasted insane returns because they went all-in—solo investments, solo risks, solo rewards.
Worse yet, word was spreading: Europe—especially Germany—was tweaking its tax rebate policies. The days of "scamming" cash from Germany were over.
Paramount needed a new investor!
The most reliable, stable, and long-term option? Legendary Pictures, Hollywood's current golden child.
Pooled investments were just too tempting!
But Paramount's recent track record was shaky—overtaken by Warner Bros., Twentieth Century Fox, and Universal. Sherry Lansing had pitched Michael Ovitz multiple times, only to get shut down.
She called Dunn, too, but he dodged with vague answers.
Out of options, Sherry's small-time clout wasn't enough. She had to call in the big boss—Sumner Redstone!
…
Redstone had a daughter and a son, but their relationships were frosty.
His most trusted ally was Philippe Dauman, his deputy of decades—now Viacom's vice chairman and CEO.
Redstone even set up the Redstone Family Trust for his kids and nephews, but guess who he named trustee? Philippe Dauman.
Right now, Dauman was in Redstone's office, hashing out a headache of a problem.
A new rival had popped up in the premium cable TV game—TA Network!
"TA Network owns two stations. Last year, Dunn Films bought them for $1.7 billion. Since March, TA's been shaking things up—raising subscription fees and officially tying in with Dunn Films' content pipeline," Dauman explained, laying out his concerns to Redstone. "In May, Dunn Films dropped Spider-Man and Saw on TA Network, quickly boosting their user base. Paid subscribers are still low, but they're climbing. Especially since June, when their original series Six Feet Under started airing—it's got some real buzz."
With Dunn involved, the stakes were high. Even Dauman couldn't act alone—he needed Redstone's input.
At 78, Redstone looked old, his face dotted with age spots. But his cloudy eyes still sparked with energy.
"How many stations does our HBO Network have?"
"Right now, six channels: HBO 2, HBO Women, plus the Movie, Family, and Edge channels. Four more are in the works."
Redstone nodded silently. "That Dunn kid… heh, he's got some tricks up his sleeve."
Dauman smirked, unimpressed. "Small-time moves. If we step in, we could shrink TA Network's market share overnight."
Redstone waved a frail hand, his strength fading with age. "Michael Eisner underestimated him. Look at Disney now."
"That's Disney's own mess," Dauman said, shaking his head. "Word is their board's been a circus lately."
"Point is, don't judge Dunn by his age or experience." Seeing Dauman's dismissive attitude, Redstone paused, then added slowly, "Dunn Films rolled out two projects—a reality show and an animated series. He mentioned them to me at my last birthday party."
"Yeah, American Idol and Fantastic Four. Both are with us," Dauman replied, catching Redstone's drift. His face shifted. "Wait—you're saying he planned this?"
Redstone said coolly, "Two weeks ago, I was wondering the same thing. Now? I'm sure of it. This was deliberate."
"This…"
Dauman's face flickered with disbelief, stunned by Redstone's judgment—a judgment he trusted implicitly after a lifetime of experience.
"Where's he getting that kind of confidence? How could he know Six Feet Under would click with viewers? It's a show about funerals and death—I watched it. It's way off from today's mainstream tastes!"
"Confidence, huh?" Redstone's eyes went distant, like he was savoring old memories.
Age does that—makes you nostalgic.
After a while, he snapped back, sighing and shaking his head. "I met him once. The sunshine, positivity, confidence, and poise he showed? That's not just schmoozing at a party."
Dauman frowned, his expression darkening. "Looks like this kid's got big plans! Sir, we should act!"
Even DreamWorks—founded by three titans and backed by Paul Allen—never dared mess with TV. Dunn's ambition was off the charts!
"No!"
Redstone shot it down without a second thought.
"Sir, we're letting a tiger grow claws!"
Dauman pleaded desperately.
Redstone chuckled. "Two things. First, this morning, Sherry came to me asking for cash to prop up Paramount. No way—that's too risky for movies. So she backtracked, begged me to use my old face to reach out to Legendary Pictures for a 'pooled investment' deal."
"Yeah, pooled investments are the hot new thing in movies—efficient, too. Rumor is Dunn came up with it," Dauman nodded. "So, did you call Michael Ovitz? Ever since he left CAA, he's been a stickler about favors."
Redstone shook his head, then laughed dryly. "That's the second thing. At noon today, I got a call from Dunn. He said he hopes to push a Legendary-Paramount partnership and asked me to 'help out.' Help out? Heh, listen to how smooth this kid is."
Dauman's face twisted into a wild mix of emotions.
At 45, he couldn't wrap his head around how a guy Dunn's age could play things so slickly.
Cunning, steady, gentle, composed!
And he always seemed one step ahead!
Before Six Feet Under aired, he'd already tossed Viacom plenty of goodies. Now that it was out, he'd delivered another big gift!
Dauman couldn't read Redstone's mind.
The old man was a fortress—even his own kids couldn't crack him. Dauman wasn't sure if Redstone just didn't care to bicker with a junior like Dunn or if he was genuinely intrigued by these "gifts."
One thing was clear, though: Dunn had Redstone totally figured out!
Dauman didn't want to sit by and watch TA Network grow, but Dunn had already laid his defenses a month ago.
He was Viacom's executive chairman and CEO, yet some small-fry movie company boss had him pegged. It was humiliating!
Redstone gave Dauman a deep look and smiled faintly. "You're not wrong, but you're missing something. Business isn't about commerce—it's about people. Different folks, different situations, different moves."
Dauman's mind swirled with doubt.
He couldn't pin down Redstone's real intentions.
The old man's words sounded noble but were just polished nonsense. Maybe… he was too attached to Dunn's gifts and was making excuses to save face.
Back in the day, Redstone was a force of nature!
He'd bought Viacom, the biggest cable network in the U.S.; Paramount, the top movie studio; Blockbuster, the leading video rental chain; and CBS, the biggest public broadcaster.
Now, three of those pillars still reigned supreme, but Paramount had slipped.
Naturally, Redstone's focus would shift to boosting Paramount, even if it meant sacrificing some of TA Network's gains.
That made sense.
But as his right-hand man, Dauman needed to know his true thoughts.
And as Redstone aged, those thoughts were getting harder to read.