Chapter 660: They Want to Collaborate

"Pixar Studio has released three animated feature films in less than three years since joining Time Warner."

Inside an office building on Wilshire Street, Michael Ovitz looked at the newspaper in his hands and said, "The management at Walt Disney must have plenty of thoughts on this."

"It would be one thing if it was just Ratatouille and Robot WALL-E."

Merchandise for those two films was a weak point.

Martin Bob added, "But an animated movie like Cars is guaranteed to make Disney jealous. If it fell under their umbrella, they could leverage their youth platform to achieve truly terrifying merchandise sales."

Michael Ovitz sighed.

"It's already terrifying. There has never been an animated film with merchandise as hot as Cars. Even The Lion King didn't pull that off back in the day."

Martin Bob and Michael Ovitz discussed Pixar Studio for a moment, slightly relaxing their recently taut nerves before turning the topic back to their own agency.

"CAA, ICM, and William Morris have clearly joined forces," Martin Bob said, showing no trace of relaxation. "We've lost over fifty percent of our top-tier clients. While fewer of our second-tier clients have left, the few with real potential are basically all in their sights."

He looked at Ovitz. "Michael, what exactly are you thinking?"

"Those three agencies have reached a tacit understanding," Michael Ovitz slowly replied, rubbing his temples. "Someone else must be pushing this from behind the scenes. It's not a conspiracy; it's an open, straightforward attack. Aside from meeting it head-on, what else can we do?"

Were they supposed to hire an assassin to wipe out all three major talent agencies and the hidden hand pulling the strings?

"What if we lose?" Martin Bob asked, worried.

Michael Ovitz shook his head. "Even if we lose, it isn't the end of the world. We'll simply retire early and leave the industry."

As long as he retired early, all the grievances surrounding him would surely vanish.

His dispute with the three major agencies and that other person stemmed from business. Once he lost his commercial value, those people probably wouldn't bother with him even if someone paid them to.

After struggling in Hollywood for so many years, compounded by his disastrous failure during his tenure at Disney, Michael Ovitz knew clearly that he was nowhere near as powerful or important as he had once imagined.

Thinking back on it now, the media and writers who had once flattered him had, to some extent, ruined him.

They had called him the king of Hollywood, the master of stars and directors, the true puppet master behind the scenes—and he had naturally taken it all as truth.

For a person to fail to see their environment and status clearly, to let it all go to their head, was extremely dangerous...

Though he hadn't cared much about those remarks, they had still affected his judgment. Combined with his desire to leave CAA for a higher platform, he had ultimately lost out in Disney's complex personnel struggles due to his own insufficient abilities, sinking to his current state.

It was less that he had lost to Duke Rosenberg, and more that he had lost to himself.

The king of Hollywood. The master of stars. The true hidden hand...

Today, Michael Ovitz finally saw it clearly. In the face of a film company backed by a massive media conglomerate, what did any of that count for? It was nothing more than a joke.

If he had another chance to do it all over again, he would be just like Duke Rosenberg: always keeping a clear head, never overestimating his own importance, and moving forward firmly, step by step...

Unfortunately, at his age, there was simply no chance to start over.

Michael Ovitz sighed heavily. Unless a miracle or some world-altering event occurred, the fate of Artists Management Company was basically set in stone. Although he could bow his head in defeat and leave the industry when necessary, there was one thing he still couldn't figure out.

Why was Duke Rosenberg so resilient and calm?

It wasn't as if his opponent had never encountered crises, but he maintained a peaceful state of mind every time. Even if his response speed was sometimes lacking, he was absolutely steady. During the set fire and the Mel Gibson incident, he had withstood mountainous pressure with a resilient will, used a calm head to propose countermeasures, and cleverly turned disadvantages into advantages with the assistance of his entire team.

That didn't seem like the performance of a young man at all.

When it came to resilience, calmness, and even ruthlessness, Duke Rosenberg had surpassed him years ago.

Michael Ovitz was absolutely certain of it.

However, forcing him to completely admit defeat and bow out of Hollywood wasn't going to be that easy.

Although he had thoughts of retirement, Michael Ovitz wasn't just going to quit. He wouldn't be in this industry for much longer anyway, so he could fully utilize his remaining resources, pick the right moment, and launch a final, devastating attack on Duke Rosenberg.

Achieving this goal required endurance and waiting, and Michael Ovitz currently had no shortage of patience.

After briefly checking on Robot WALL-E, Duke had shifted his market focus mostly to The Dark Knight. It was already nearing Christmas, and the film was still screening in North America, but the theater count had dropped to two hundred, and the box office was growing no faster than a snail's pace.

Over the past few months, the North American box office for The Dark Knight had only increased by a little over 12 million dollars, bringing its cumulative total to 579.96 million dollars. It had practically stalled.

Overseas, the film had long since been pulled from theaters in the vast majority of countries and regions. Although it was still screening in a few markets, the 575.77 million dollar overseas box office figure had practically no room left to grow.

The film's theatrical run had reached its very tail end.

Currently, Warner Brothers was pressing discs, just waiting for the Oscar nominations to come out so they could strike while the iron was hot, release different versions of the DVD, and make another fortune in the global market.

Duke had no objections to this; his revenue-sharing contract included all income from merchandise and ancillary products.

Although he was extremely wealthy now, the vast majority of Duke's assets came from the stock market and real estate. The amount of liquid capital he had wasn't actually that large. Having too much money really did just turn it into a numbers game, but no one would ever complain about it—on the contrary, they would revel in it.

Just as the professional critics attacked him for, Duke was fundamentally an ordinary person. His tastes couldn't be called refined, so naturally, he wasn't immune to such worldly desires.

Once he got his hands on that share of the profits, even if he didn't use it himself, he could donate it to his own charitable foundation and earn a good reputation.

Like all billionaires, even if he wasn't particularly passionate about philanthropy, Duke still participated in it. He had a charitable foundation under his name with transparent public accounts, and the money and supplies he donated every year were nothing to scoff at. He even advocated for the world to pay attention to starving children in Africa, pouring millions of dollars into the cause over time.

"The situation in Africa is even more severe than we imagined."

A spacious RV slowly pulled onto the airport's private tarmac.

Tina Fey looked at the private jet still taxiing in the distance and added, "Scar sent me a few photos she took. They're shocking."

"Scar has another event, I think," Duke said, glancing at the plane. Estimating that it would still take a few minutes to arrive, he was in no rush to get out of the car. He turned to Tina Fey. "Next year, it'll be held in collaboration with Marvel Comics. You can go together."

"Go together?" Tina Fey didn't look interested in the slightest. "I'll pass. I think North America is pretty nice; I don't want to go to a place like Africa."

In front of Duke, she had no need to hide her true thoughts.

Duke pushed the car door open and stepped out. Standing in front of the vehicle, he watched the approaching plane.

He turned to Tina Fey as she walked over and said, "And here I was planning to have you manage that newly established foundation for starving children."

"I can manage it," Tina Fey said, blinking deliberately. "But management doesn't require me to personally go to places like Africa, right?"

Sympathy was one thing; personally going to a place like that was another matter entirely.

A massive Boeing airliner slowly taxied over. This was the Boeing BBJ that Duke had ordered from the Boeing Company, and its maiden voyage after delivery was Scarlett's trip to Africa as a charity ambassador.

An event like this was quite beneficial to Scarlett's career.

Moreover, she was accompanied by several senior officials from the United Nations Refugee Agency and the Children's Fund, and her destination wasn't one of the chaotic, war-torn countries or regions. Otherwise, Duke wouldn't have agreed so readily.

The cabin door opened, and Scarlett Johansson stepped out first. She immediately spotted Duke, quickened her pace, hurried down the airstairs, and rushed over.

Seeing Scarlett practically jogging toward him, Duke opened his arms and hugged her tightly.

"Hey, darling."

On the other side, Tina Fey winked at Scarlett. "You look a little tan."

"Do I?" Scarlett immediately grew nervous. "I thought so too, but Sofia said I hadn't gotten any darker, so I didn't worry about it."

Duke finally noticed they were short one person from the plane.

"Where's Sofia?" he asked Scarlett. "Didn't she go with you?"

"Sofia went to South Africa," Scarlett explained simply. "She went to Johannesburg to meet Charlize Theron. She wants to invite her to collaborate on a film about South Africa."

"They want to collaborate?"

Frowning slightly, Duke thought back for a moment. He had no memory of Sofia Coppola and Charlize Theron ever working together. But then again, he hadn't really liked Sofia's past production style, so it was also possible he just hadn't seen it.

"Get in," Duke said, pulling the car door open for Scarlett. "Let's head home first."

"Linda, keep an eye on the luggage."

Scarlett turned her head and gave her assistant an instruction before bending down to get into the car.

Once Duke sat down next to her, she asked, "Are you really planning to host a Christmas charity party?"

Duke gestured for the driver to start the car.

"Aren't you a charity ambassador?" he said. "Since you just got back from Africa, you must have some strong feelings about it. We should take some action too."