[Isabella's magic still going strong! The spin-off of The Voice, Hannah Montana, officially premiered yesterday. The first episode averaged 10.7 million viewers, the best debut rating in the history of cable television!]
[A paid channel's new drama surpassing 10 million average viewers on its premiere? What kind of magic does Isabella have?]
[Hannah Montana - A classic Disney-style youth drama series!]
[Following Ashley and Mary, the Olsen family has produced another star. Elizabeth Olsen's performance in Hannah Montana is a delightful surprise. Her beauty and sense of fun are unexpectedly captivating]
Since the Voice spin-off Hannah Montana exploded right out of the gate, announcing it to the whole world and declaring victory was absolutely something Robert Iger would do.
Well, of course, that kind of publicity also had to do with who he was.
As a professional manager, if you don't loudly brag after delivering results, how would the shareholders know how impressive you are?
And if the shareholders don't know how impressive you are, how would they value you, and then be intimidated by you?
Cough, cough.
Scratch that last line.
Anyway, the next day, the vast majority of media outlets across North America rushed to report on Disney's new series.
For the general public, the performance of Hannah Montana was genuinely shocking.
After all, on regular broadcast networks, a show breaking 10 million average viewers could be hyped for ages.
And now a paid channel breaking 10 million?
Oh. That result was downright explosive.
For Isabella's fans, it was pure joy and immense pride. No matter what kind of fans they started as, in the end they basically all turn into "honor fans."
Because honor is the easiest thing to compare.
When you like a celebrity, you instinctively want them to be the king of a single field.
Otherwise—
As a certain Lakers legend once said: second place is the biggest loser.
People can proudly say they like champions, but they won't proudly say they like runners-up, because that's basically telling everyone their standards are low, that they're someone who can calmly embrace failure like a loser.
For Disney shareholders, the strong ratings of Hannah Montana meant more money again. On July 28, 2005, as soon as the U.S. stock market opened, Disney's stock rose 3.1%.
Because once Hannah Montana could pull in over 10 million viewers, every investor could do the math. From this one show alone, Disney could earn an additional $300 to $500 million this year.
That's not a small number.
Disney is a mature company, and film and television is already a crowded market. In such circumstances, its revenue wouldn't skyrocket like a startup's. So suddenly jumping by half a billion dollars?
That was impressive.
Even more impressive was that Hannah Montana seemed capable of becoming a new series, a new IP.
Once Hannah Montana had a pop-star identity, concerts, movies, and other spin-offs could all follow.
As for Disney's former king, Michael Eisner—
"Ten million viewers?"
"Even if it airs six episodes a week and finishes in two months, the Disney Channel can lock in a hundred million dollars in subscription revenue."
"And if the ratings stay stable—"
"This kind of short-term broadcast would also send ad slot prices before, during, and after the show soaring."
"Heh."
"I've been gone from Disney less than half a year, and Robert Iger is already planning to take my Disney Channel?"
"This—hahahaha—"
Michael Eisner saw the news while eating breakfast.
The crazy numbers in the newspaper stirred a lot of feelings.
To be honest, he didn't feel great inside.
After all, no one can calmly accept being the loser.
And unfortunately, right now, that loser was him.
But—
Despite the irritation, the corners of his mouth were raised high.
That made his wife Jane curious. "Why do I feel like you're pretty happy?"
"Of course I'm happy, because the one who has to deal with the trouble now isn't me."
Michael Eisner put down the newspaper and smiled as he picked up a slice of whole wheat bread from his plate.
Scooping up some caviar with a knife and carefully spreading it, he said with a smile, "I'm not Robert Iger's enemy anymore, so I don't have to be upset about his success."
"The people who should be upset now are Roy E. Disney Jr., and—Rupert Murdoch."
Just as Michael Eisner said.
After learning that Robert Iger's new show had pushed Disney's, and even cable television's, historical ratings records higher, Roy E. Disney Jr.'s expression immediately turned ugly.
His desire to control the Disney Group was no secret.
In fact, you could say he'd been striving for it for decades.
When his father died, he didn't pass the chairman position to him, but to his cousin-in-law, Ron Miller, the husband of Walt Disney's daughter Diane Disney.
That fact infuriated him, and he went to great lengths to force Ron Miller out.
Because the methods he used back then were rather ruthless, other shareholders stopped trusting him.
That was how Michael Eisner managed to rise to power.
Then, with his background and strength, Eisner kept Roy firmly suppressed for decades.
Cough.
To be honest, Roy E. Disney Jr. had always believed that Eisner's departure meant it was finally his turn. But judging from the current situation—
"Isabella Haywood…"
"Why couldn't you just stay put at Warner Bros.?"
Roy muttered to himself.
Flipping through the newspaper, he let out a heavy sigh.
At the same moment, someone else wearing the same expression was Rupert Murdoch, whom Eisner had mentioned.
Almost simultaneously, in New York, at News Corporation headquarters.
Rupert Murdoch leaned back hard.
The executive chair, neither too soft nor too hard, brought him no comfort, only restlessness.
Looking at the secretary in front of his desk, he said slowly, "Gail Berman's view is that The O.C. is in danger?"
"Yes," the secretary nodded. "Gail Berman, president of the Fox Broadcasting Company, just called. She said that if Hannah Montana continues to be this popular, then The O.C.'s best possible ending is wrapping up with its third season."
Earlier, when Isabella and Robert Iger were discussing how to dismantle Fox, Iger had said that cutting off Fox's main revenue streams would make Rupert Murdoch extremely uncomfortable.
And in reality—
That was exactly the case.
Season two of The O.C., which provided Fox Broadcasting's drama division with substantial revenue, had only gone off the air on May 19 this year, and plans for the next season's production and broadcast were already in place.
Fox would officially launch season three of The O.C. on September 8.
The reasons were simple.
First, after last year's major battle, Fox lost American Idol and various film revenues, effectively halving its income. If before they were making shows for the financial reports, now they were fighting just to survive.
Second, it was about Fox's audience demographics.
Although CBS is known as an "old people's network," Fox's positioning also leaned conservative, so its audience wasn't exactly young either. And in any market, young people are the future.
When a market stops attracting new blood, it is doomed to collapse.
Like old-man liquor, old-man tickets, old-man watches, old-man buildings—
If young people's preferences really determine an industry's rise and fall, then Fox couldn't hope to grow without courting younger viewers. That was the real reason they were chasing The O.C.
But with the explosive popularity of Hannah Montana—
The O.C. was probably going to implode.
Because all the young people had gone to Disney.
And at that moment, the young people flocking to Disney were also young people with the ability to pay.
To put it bluntly, these were the highest-quality "leeks" every capital player dreams of harvesting.
Once the best leeks in the field have spent money just to follow a show, then in the future, no matter how good similar shows on free-to-air networks become, they won't praise them.
The logic is simple—
When I've paid money for something, even if it's not that great, as long as it doesn't reach the level of public outrage, I won't actively trash it. Because doing that would make me look like an idiot who paid money to eat crap.
But when that thing is really good?
Then even if similar free alternatives are amazing, I'll still say mine is better.
Yep, this is basically a psychological game.
And then, when the paid show also airs six episodes a week—
Every similar show instantly becomes incapable of competing with it.
If you really have to describe it, it's like reading online novels.
Even if an author's writing is mediocre, as long as it isn't pure filler, if they update 20,000 words a day, readers will still say it's decent.
But if an author's chapters are all above average and they update 40,000 words a day?
Do other authors even have a way to survive?
No.
So when Fox Broadcasting Group president Gail Berman learned that Hannah Montana was not only smashing records but also airing six episodes a week, she immediately felt like the sky had collapsed.
At that moment, the only solution she could think of was for Hannah Montana to crash and burn on its own.
And that—
Was a beautiful fantasy, but a brutal reality.
After Gail Berman informed her boss that Fox Broadcasting Group's revenue might be crushed by Hannah Montana, the nightmare she predicted actually arrived that very night.
The evening of July 28.
Episodes three and four of Hannah Montana aired back-to-back.
Unlike the post-premiere drop after July 27's peak ratings, on the 28th, Hannah Montana's viewership stayed stable at around 10.5 million.
Not only that, perhaps word had spread that the show's quality was excellent.
Or maybe the fact that it aired six episodes a week and could be finished in two months tempted people who wanted to watch shows but hated long-term commitment.
Either way, on July 28 alone, Disney Channel subscriptions increased by another 110,000.
Then, when the date rolled over to July 29—
Rotten Tomatoes opened its score.
Because this kind of family comedy involving teens wouldn't attract professional critics, and even if they did review it, their opinions wouldn't matter much, the site only displayed audience popcorn scores.
And then—four episodes in, a 90% positive rating.
That result was absurdly good.
Genuine love from the general audience pushed Hannah Montana's July 29 ratings to a new high.
That night, episodes five and six stabilized at 11.03 million viewers.
Once this data came out, Fox basically ascended on the spot.
Then, the very next second, they plunged straight into hell—because along with the show's explosive popularity, Disney officially announced that the Hannah Montana TV soundtrack would go on sale on August 1, 2005.
When the clock ticked over to August 2—
North American first-day sales: 131,100 copies.
Doesn't sound like much?
But August 1, 2005 was a Monday.
And the Hannah Montana soundtrack was Elizabeth Olsen's work, not Isabella's.
So—
"Mr. Murdoch, my personal suggestion is to cut The O.C.."
"Based on the current situation, even if the show performs well, its average viewership will probably only be around 5 million."
"And because of inflation and rising costs, the per-episode production cost has already reached 1.3 million."
"Uh, what I mean isn't that a show costing 1.3 million per episode deserves higher ratings, but rather—since we already know The O.C.'s average viewership will decline, continuing to give it time is just wasting time."
August 8, 2005.
New York, News Corporation headquarters.
Fox Broadcasting Group president Gail Berman sat across from her boss, Rupert Murdoch.
Her frank words made Murdoch nod slightly.
The report in front of him, however, made a cold light flash in his eyes.
Because it was the ratings report for the first episode of The Voice Season 3.
The Voice Season 3 had officially aired last week, and the figure—41 million viewers—was insane.
Taking two deep breaths and looking at his trusted subordinate, Murdoch's gaze flickered.
"Gail, I think your approach is correct. If the probability of success for a project is lower than the probability of failure, then cutting it directly is the smartest way to stop the bleeding."
"But—didn't we already officially announce plans for The O.C. Season 3?"
"Yes." Gail Berman nodded slightly.
That fact made Murdoch grind his teeth.
"If that's the case—then let's treat Season 3 as the final season. How many episodes was the original plan? Cut it down to eight or ten episodes. And while filming the finale, don't leak any rumors, because we can't afford any more public opinion backlash."
"You understand what I mean?"
"Of course."
Gail Berman sighed. "If someone questions us now, saying we cut The O.C. because we were afraid of Hannah Montana, then it'll become extremely difficult for us to acquire projects in the future."
On the surface, in the TV drama ecosystem, media conglomerates seem to hold the highest status because they control the platforms.
But in reality—
That view isn't wrong, but because of competition, no single media group, no matter how strong, can completely dominate the field.
So when people in the industry learn that a platform cut its own similar show just because another platform produced a breakout hit, anyone with even a shred of backbone will seriously reconsider whether it's worth cooperating with that platform in the future.
It's not that people can't accept projects being canceled.
It's that running away without even fighting is just too low.
Even if everyone knows that challenging the final boss is basically a death sentence—
You still have to fight until you're beaten to death.
You can't surrender without even trying.
"Okay, let's stop talking about the project here."
"Then—Gail, do you think Disney is targeting us this time?"
Murdoch changed the subject.
The boss's question made Gail Berman purse her lips.
Meeting her boss's eyes and seeing the seriousness on his face, Gail replied, "Boss, just as you think, I also believe Hannah Montana won't have much impact on CBS or NBC."
On the surface, Murdoch and Gail Berman seemed to be speaking in riddles.
But the meaning was simple: at present, in the entire media market, or more specifically among broadcast networks, the company most affected by Hannah Montana was Fox alone.
Although most people believe young people are the future, Fox's peers at CBS had no intention of embracing that future.
Because they believed young people would grow old eventually.
So in the ratings game, they chose the safest strategy.
They believed that as long as they firmly held onto older audiences and continuously produced shows that appealed to them, even if they couldn't reach the top of the industry, they wouldn't fall to the bottom.
NBC's situation was similar.
Although NBC was more ambitious than CBS—for example, they were even willing to produce shows like Will & Grace involving LGBT themes to boost ratings—they also knew that young people were Disney's private territory. No matter how hard they tried, they couldn't outdo Disney, so they didn't aggressively embrace teen-focused shows.
Therefore, in the entire media market, with only the latecomer Fox adopting an aggressive strategy, it was only them who were getting directly beaten down by Hannah Montana.
If there hadn't been any prior conflict, they might have just thought they were unlucky.
But when they already had a grudge against Isabella—
Honestly?
Even if Robert Iger told Murdoch straight to his face that there was no targeting involved, Murdoch wouldn't believe him.
His subordinate's agreement made Murdoch let out a heavy sigh.
Waving his hand with a bitter smile, Gail Berman stood up and left, understanding his meaning.
As the door closed, Murdoch lowered his head slightly and rubbed his temples.
Even though he truly didn't want to stir up trouble right now—
He took out his phone and dialed Ted Turner.
"Got time?"
"Want a drink?"
"My treat."
Fishermen never come home empty-handed.