Once upon a time, Dunn and Michael Eisner were at each other's throats. But now? The two saw eye-to-eye on digging into Disney's classic animated films.
Their situations, though, were strikingly similar.
Dunn was running himself ragged for Natalie's Oscar nomination, while Michael Eisner was sweating bullets to hold onto his power.
Recently, Disney and Pixar had kicked off business talks.
Their contract was nearing its end, and Disney wanted to extend it. Pixar said no.
That sent Michael Eisner into a fury. He thought his offer was more than fair, but to him, Steve Jobs was like a bloodsucking vampire—greedy beyond reason.
The failed renewal gave Disney's board yet another reason to doubt Eisner's leadership.
Fed up but powerless, Eisner seized a chance to invite Roy Disney to lunch.
Some things needed to be said straight!
Disney had to stay under his control—no one else could cut it!
Plus, he figured he could use the chat to drive a wedge between Roy Disney and Stanley Gold, the current Disney board and management committee chair.
Back in the day, it was Roy and Stanley who brought Eisner into Disney. Now, they were teaming up to oust him!
They met at a private restaurant, far from Disney's internal dining spots.
"Roy, I just don't get it—I really don't!" Eisner jumped in first, locking eyes with him. "You've got a cushy life. I've made you a ton of money, and I've always had your back. Why are you doing this?"
Back then, Roy Disney was so broke he'd mortgaged his house to the bank. Now? He could live like a millionaire.
All thanks to Michael Eisner.
Roy's face stayed calm. "I agree with Stanley."
Eisner snapped, "You're still lying to me? You and Stanley are tight—if you said no, he'd never push back!"
Roy shook his head. "On this, we're on the same page. Michael, it's not about you—we're protecting Disney's interests."
Eisner gritted his teeth. "Then what's the problem? What are you against?"
"You shouldn't have bought ABC!"
"What?"
Roy's words hit Eisner like a thunderbolt. He stared, dumbfounded.
"I told you back then," Roy went on, "it's the age of cable TV. Traditional broadcast networks are dinosaurs. ABC's been dragging Disney's stock down—you should own that failed deal."
Eisner laughed through his anger, teeth clenching hard. "Roy, can't you see what's happening? This is the era of media consolidation! Without ABC, we'd be toast—swallowed up! There'd be no Disney left!"
Roy shrugged it off. "Pixar's doing fine without being swallowed. They're small, sure, but creative as hell. Their stock's sky-high—practically untouchable."
"Don't you know Dunn's already grabbed 15% of Pixar's shares?" Eisner exploded, feeling insulted. He took a deep breath. "Anyway, Pixar's tied to Disney—you know that."
Roy smirked faintly. "But Jobs shot down your renewal."
That stung—Eisner's weak spot. He swallowed his rage. "Fine, what else you got?"
"Andrew Mooney."
Roy's answer left Eisner both furious and disappointed.
He couldn't believe Roy's vision had gotten this outdated.
Dunn's rants about Hollywood's old guard weren't baseless after all.
These guys were relics—left behind by the times.
Andrew Mooney was a star Eisner poached from Nike to run Disney's consumer products division. His track record over the past year? Stellar!
He'd unified Disney's classic "princess" characters under the "Disney Princess" brand, cracking open a goldmine.
Last year, the "Disney Princess" toy line got licensed to Mattel—a deal that even sparked a big clash with Dunn Films.
But that one move? It brought Disney $500 million in revenue over the year!
And a guy like that was ticking Roy Disney off?
Eisner knew why. Andrew Mooney had dared to touch those sacred classic cartoons.
To Roy, those "princesses" were untouchable—cherished memories, fairy-tale dreams. Turning them into toys kids could grab or toss felt like a slap to Disney's legacy.
This wasn't the first time, either.
Over a decade ago, when Eisner first took over Disney, the company was a mess—cash-starved and directionless.
He'd been stunned to find Disney's classic animations only ever hit theaters—no TV airings, no VHS releases, no merchandise tie-ins!
It was a hidden treasure trove!
He wanted to release them all on VHS to rake in some quick cash.
Cue Roy Disney throwing up roadblocks left and right.
To Roy, those films—their characters—were holy, magical, timeless. They belonged on the big screen, nowhere else.
Disney's strategy back then was to schedule annual theatrical re-releases of the classics.
Eisner thought that was nonsense!
Business was business—nostalgia wouldn't save Disney from bankruptcy!
After heated boardroom battles, Roy finally caved, agreeing to gradual VHS releases. But Disney's crown jewel, Snow White? Off-limits—no sale!
Then the VHS boom hit. Every classic tape sold brought Disney over $100 million in profit.
That cashflow was Disney's lifeline!
In the early '90s, Jeffrey Katzenberg pushed hard, and Snow White finally hit VHS. First week? 10 million copies sold, over $400 million in revenue! (Note)
A 1930s cartoon, half a century later, finally reached the masses.
Eisner frowned, sighing. "Roy, don't you get it? Cartoons are products—they follow market rules! Our live-action films are tanking. Teaming up with Dunn, diving deep into these classics for max profit—that's real business!"
Roy shook his head stubbornly. "I. Don't. Agree!"
Eisner wanted to slug him—this old man was a rock wall! He growled, "For the shareholders, I'm pushing the Dunn Films deal. You can't stop me—I'll ram it through the board! The Bass family still has pull there!"
Roy gave him a long look. "I remember when you started, you promised me—if I ever pulled my support, you'd step down."
Eisner shot back, "I never said that!"
Roy fell silent, speechless.
Just then, Eisner's phone rang—Dunn.
He glanced at Roy, then picked up with zero manners. "Dunn, ha, I'm sorting out this animation rights mess—our deal's still on, I'm serious… What? You're giving a lecture?"
Eisner bolted up, face flushing with excitement. "That's huge—amazing! Dunn, if you pull this off, all of Hollywood's gonna owe you one!"
He started puffing himself up. "Back in my day, I dropped the 'high concept' movie theory—shook things up, set the trend. But every era's got its thing. You gotta know when you're past your prime—out with the old! I'm all in for your new ideas!"
That last bit was a jab, aimed square at Roy Disney.
"What? You dig 'high concept' too? January 25th? I'm there—no question! Ha, oh, by the way, I put in a word with the Academy—told them to look out for Natalie. No need to thank me—we're buddies, right?"
A two-minute call, and all the frustration from arguing with Roy melted away.
Dunn was giving a public lecture at USC's auditorium?
Sharing his personal blockbuster filmmaking philosophy?
This was a big deal!
Forget USC film students—Hollywood producers and directors would be tripping over themselves to get in!
Humility keeps you sharp—when it's time to learn, you learn!
"Didn't see that coming—this kid's got guts!"
Eisner's opinion of Dunn shot up.
Back when Barry Diller cooked up "high concept," it stayed in-house—never shared with outsiders.
Its spread came later, pieced together by film theorists analyzing Diller and Eisner's movies and management style.
That's how it hit the mainstream.
Dunn's move, though? Way classier!
"Looks like he's going all out for Natalie's Oscar nod," Eisner said with a smirk, amused.
Roy's eyes widened, curious. "Dunn's spreading his film ideas to everyone?"
"Yup," Eisner nodded. "This kid… he's done a lot for Hollywood."
Roy smiled faintly. "If that's the case, Disney doesn't need to team up with Dunn Films. We'll just take his theories and invest in live-action ourselves."
Eisner nearly choked on his rage!
You old fossil—get lost!
What kind of dumb idea was that?
Dunn still held the Narnia rights!
Plus, without partnering up and seeing it firsthand, how'd you know if his theories were legit—or how much he was holding back?
Stupid! Stubborn!