Bill Mechanic was still a bit cautious. He said in a low voice, "Dunn, putting three blockbusters in the same release window will definitely dilute the box office."
Dunn burst out laughing. "Bill, you're right—diluting the box office! But I'm confident it won't be *our* box office that gets watered down!"
Bill shook his head repeatedly. "Dunn, your confidence is bordering on blind arrogance."
Nina Jacobson cut in, "I don't think so. It's the best superhero movie I've ever seen—it's ahead of its time! It's more than just a traditional action flick; it's something groundbreaking. No matter how you look at it, it's a total win."
Bill Mechanic let out a sigh.
Dunn and the president of Marvel Studios were on the same page now, so nothing Bill said would change a thing.
Dunn asked, "Bill, how much is Universal pitching in for promotion?"
"Sixty million dollars."
"That's too low!" Dunn frowned and snorted. "If Fox and Disney want a fight, bring it on! We've got over fifty million in the company account, right? Pull out forty million and ramp up the marketing!"
Even the "lunatics" in Bill Mechanic's eyes were stunned by this.
An extra forty million?
That would bring the total marketing budget to a hundred million dollars!
Unbelievable!
In Hollywood history, no movie had ever had a marketing budget exceeding a hundred million. Before this, Warner Bros.'Godzilla had hit eighty-five million, and that was already astronomical. Another film, Titanic* and *Star Wars: Episode I, only had about sixty million in promotion.
But Dunn was different. He'd seen the era of blockbuster special effects films with marketing budgets soaring to one or two hundred million. To him, a hundred million wasn't excessive at all.
"It's settled then. Let's see how much guts Disney and Fox really have to keep this fight going! A hundred million in marketing is our battle cry!"
Dunn never backed down or shied away from a challenge.
He just didn't want to make too many enemies in a short time.
But since Disney kept pushing him and throwing their weight around, Dunn wasn't about to keep holding back or playing it safe.
You want a fight? Let's fight!
"Disney, don't blame me for hitting too hard!"
Dunn clenched his fist, quietly steeling himself.
He was going to cut Disney off at the roots!
---
Dunn was ready to take on Disney, and not in the sneaky way he'd done before—like sending Nina Jacobson to poach director M. Night Shyamalan. This time, it was out in the open, head-to-head!
Warner? Dunn didn't even take them seriously.
After the AOL-Time Warner merger, they'd lost over a hundred billion dollars in just two or three years! Time Warner, holding 45% of the new AOL Time Warner, took a hit of more than fifty billion. The once-mighty media titan had fallen, forced to sell off assets in a pitiful decline.
Even if Dunn ticked off Warner, they probably wouldn't have the energy to deal with Dunn Pictures.
Besides, Dunn already had a plan in place to handle them.
As for Twentieth Century Fox…
Tom Rothman had big ambitions but not enough skill to back them up.
Going head-to-head with*Spider-Man? That was just asking for trouble!
Let's be real—even a hardcore cinephile like Dunn hadn't seen that movie. It was doomed to be a box-office flop!
Tom Rothman wouldn't last long running Fox, that much was clear. Once he was out, the pressure on Dunn Pictures would vanish.
The only one Dunn truly cared about was Disney.
Others might not know, but Dunn, with his foresight, understood how massive Disney would become.
Dominating half of Hollywood, they'd rival MGM in its golden age!
Crossing a giant like that meant Dunn had to plan ahead.
While quietly chipping away at Disney's power, he also needed to speed up the expansion of Dunn Pictures.
Dunn Pictures had to grow, and fast!
The only hitch was Universal Pictures' acquisition. As Bill Mechanic had pointed out, it was still a distant dream.
Dunn Pictures had received a polite response from Seagram, saying they had other plans and no intention of selling core assets right now.
In plain terms, they were dead-set on merging with Vivendi.
Dunn's progress in the film industry had hit a snag.
Isla Fisher knocked and came in, seeing Dunn looking troubled. She gently said, "Still stressing over Disney and Fox?"
Dunn smiled and waved it off. "What's up?"
Isla replied, "Bill asked me to check with you. Soderbergh's new movie has been out for three days and is topping the weekly box office. Ron Meyer's inviting us to a screening at Universal's private theater."
"Full Frontal?" Dunn blinked. "Steven's films are always solid! Alright, gather all the execs—we're watching it together tonight!"
Dunn knew this was Universal cozying up to Dunn Pictures.
They'd definitely heard about the acquisition offer Dunn Pictures sent to Seagram.
That night, it was billed as a movie screening, but it was really a networking event.
Dunn swapped a lot of ideas with Ron Meyer—Universal's chairman, CEO, and president—and made it clear he wasn't backing down. On the contrary, Dunn Pictures would put up the cash and double down on marketing.
After the screening, Dunn shook Ron Meyer's hand with a smile. "You guys invested in a fantastic film. I've got a feeling it'll be up for an Oscar next year."
"Haha, well, here's hoping you're right!" Ron laughed heartily.
Another Universal exec, clearly trying to butter Dunn up, chimed in with a smirk, "Full Frontal only cost fifty-one million to make, and after three days, it's already number one at the box office. Meanwhile, Disney's sci-fi blockbuster in the same slot? A hundred million invested—ouch, they're gonna lose big!"
Dunn's mood lifted instantly. "Disney? Ha, they should stick to cartoons. Their live-action stuff just keeps tanking!"
Ron Meyer grinned. "You said it! New Line's Final Destination only cost twenty-five million—a horror flick—and it's third at the box office, just three million behind Mission to Mars."
"Final Destination?"
Dunn paused. That was a classic horror series—low budget, high returns.
"You've seen it?" Ron asked, surprised.
Dunn shook his head. "No, I just didn't expect a horror movie to do that well."
Ron explained, "Oh, it's more than that. Horror films are gold in the DVD and VHS markets. Full Frontal might be great and even snag an Oscar nod, but it won't touch Final Destination in DVD sales or cable TV fees."
"Cable TV?" Dunn blinked again.
Ron nodded. "Yeah, like A&E, HBO, or Showtime. Those networks—plot-driven dramas don't pull big ratings. Audiences want visuals: horror, suspense, thrillers, action. That's their bread and butter."
Dunn's eyes lit up.
In the U.S., TV splits into two camps: broadcast and cable.
Broadcast networks—like ABC, CBS, NBC—are free over the air, aimed at all ages, with strict censorship. An R-rated movie wouldn't stand a chance.
Cable networks are pay-to-watch and can push boundaries. Channels like HBO even air adult content.
Different audiences, different movies.
A slow, heavy drama on a premium cable channel? Ratings would tank.
Dunn latched onto Ron's comment—it hit him hard!
Big broadcast networks like NBC or CBS? Forget it—buying one would cost hundreds of billions, way out of his league.
But TV was absolutely part of Dunn's long-term plan, and affordable, high-profit cable networks were the perfect entry point into TV production!
Dunn's mind was buzzing with iconic ideas and concepts. Sticking to just movies would be a waste of his vision.
More importantly, he knew movies only made up 20% of Disney's revenue. Over 70% came from their TV networks!
To take on Disney and crush them, he'd need a massive TV empire of his own!
Of course, that was a future goal.
For now, Dunn was intrigued by low-budget horror and gore-heavy B-movies.
These films could stock a future cable network with plenty of content. You can't just air blockbusters all the time—that'd bleed money!
Deep down, Dunn felt a little guilty.
Using his "sunglasses system," he'd recruited a stellar team of writers and top-notch market analysts.
Over the past two years, the writing team, guided by the analysts, had churned out over thirty scripts. At least five got a strong thumbs-up from Andrew O'Hare.
But Dunn couldn't bring himself to sink tens or hundreds of millions into a movie he couldn't predict.
Instead, he'd gone with proven hits from his past life—like Wedding Crashers and Spider-Man—films he knew had crushed it.
Andrew O'Hare's market judgment was rated 97, not 100!
One slip-up, and Dunn Pictures couldn't handle the fallout right now.
Low-budget horror, though? That was different. A million or two invested—even if it flopped, no big deal. It'd give his analysts and writers a sandbox to flex their skills and craft great stories.
Take Saw: a $1.2 million budget, $56 million in North America, and $103 million worldwide!
Proof that a killer story—even in horror or B-movie territory—could take over the world.
This was Dunn's chance to let his team shine.