Chapter 11: The View from the Summit
Excerpt from Man of Iron: The Michael Eisner Story, an unauthorized biography by Anthony Edward Stark
In 2003 Ted Turner retired as Chairman and CEO of Columbia Entertainment, staying on the board, but handing his duties and titles off to his chosen successor, Michael Eisner. Eisner, as he’d promised, recommended Brandon Tartikoff as President and COO. The board unanimously elected both. It was a quest that had begun almost two decades earlier, but Eisner was finally the head of an entertainment empire with a global reach and over $80 billion in valuation.
The summit that he’d long sought was now achieved. But after a few weeks of near-elation at having finally achieved a lifelong goal, he realized that the fulfilment he’d expected wasn’t there. Instead, something new greeted him: a sense of responsibility. He’d worked hard for over a decade as Ted Turner’s creative chief and studio head, putting up with some serious ups-and-downs, and over the years had seen the empire grow from the inside, knew everyone involved in its growth, and realized how close they’d come to having it all come crashing down more than once, particularly the narrowly-dodged Leap deal.
Put simply, he felt the need to keep that powerful machine going strong, not just use it as an instrument of his own glory.
The company was doing well.
The Lord of the Rings Trilogy had defied all expectations, including his own, and held its own against Star Wars and Marvel and even the new Harry Fletcher movies. The recent Kings 2000 theme park overhauls were proving very popular. Eisner had long since abandoned trying to compete with Disney on the parks front (his first walk through DisneySea had made clear to him that Disney was on another level there), but Kings was making a steady and reliable profit as arguably “number three” in the industry (though Universal aficionados would disagree) and even hot on the heels of the “number two”, Warner Movie World and Six Flags. Coming in first now mattered less to him than standing on his own, master of his domain, the inseparable face of the New Columbia, not just “Turner’s Chicken Hawk” but “Turner’s worthy successor”. And eventually, if his plans for the next two decades played out, he’d see Turner become known as “Eisner’s worthy predecessor”.
Besides, after nearly a decade “Hotlanta” was starting to feel like home.
His son Breck had gotten a job with Fantasia Television, producing a
Hawkmoon made-for-TV movie as a spinoff of the popular
Stormbringer, which strangely brought Eisner full-circle to his near-miss in 1984. “An Eisner at Disney after all,” he mused to Jane.
He’d felt enraged, even betrayed by Disney back in ‘84, and had even attempted to grab a slice for ABC at one point. But now, older, wiser, and slightly humbled, he silently thanked God for sending him to ABC and then Columbia. He honestly wondered if he’d have been up to running Disney in the tumultuous 1980s and 1990s after hearing the crazy stories coming out of Anaheim. He’d planned to kill Disney Animation as a non-performer. Now he’d spun up Hanna-Barbera into a true rival for the House of Mouse. He even still thought of Universal Animation, which he still referred to as Hollywood Animation, as his creation, though he had to admit that his old protégé-turned-rival Jeffrey Katzenberg had done well with it.
Reminiscing about it all, Eisner called up Jim Henson. Henson had retired to New Mexico, leaving his daughter Lisa as Chairwoman of Disney. He and Jim had a long talk full of reminiscences including about “the one that got away,” as Eisner still referred to
The Dark Crystal, and soon Eisner found himself taking a trip to Henson’s newly founded “Academy” in New Mexico, which at first seemed “quaint” to him. The Academy was still very young at the time, with only a handful of small Pueblo-style cabins, a student dorm, and a single small studio building, which to Eisner seemed like a huge step down from the Chair of Disney, but Jim seemed truly happy with it all. Eisner got rather agoraphobic and impatient in the meandering, open-plan, slow-moving space, though over a few days he got used to the casual limbo of it all and found himself relaxing and reflecting for the first time in years, actually taking time to notice how the sky and the plants and the birds seemed to just keep going on, oblivious and unconcerned with what film won the Oscar or came in number one at the Holiday box office.
He was bemused at some of the little “student projects” going on, including a young Hopi puppeteer who had a small digital camera, recording some weird Southwest Indian-style puppets in the desert. It was only much later that Eisner realized that he was producing a TV-series on-site using a digital camera, producing movie-quality production for pennies on the dollar, and that the series,
Desert Winds, which played on the Disney Channel, was competing with traditional studio-made shows that cost significantly more.
Traditional Hopi Kachina Figures
Eisner ultimately began to consider the possibilities of digital productions.
Eisner picked Henson’s brain while he was there, about his thoughts on balancing creativity vs. fiscal needs, managing a raucous board full of big personalities (Eisner had correctly predicted that Ted Turner wouldn’t just sit quietly on the board), and how to ensure loyalty from his subordinates. Henson’s advice on almost all of this was strangely simple: “just treat folks with respect. Listen to them, hear their thoughts, and if you have a difference of opinion, explain your reasoning. Most people, as long as they feel heard and respected, can take ‘no’ for an answer, or at least ‘yes, if…’
“And loyalty and respect need to be two-way streets. If folks know that you value them and have their back, they’ll value you and have your back. If they see you stand up for them, they’ll stick up for you. Conversely, throw them under the bus and they won’t hesitate to take you down if given the chance. Loyalty and respect can’t be demanded or purchased, only earned.”
While Eisner didn’t know if he completely agreed, it did give him something to think about. And the loyalty that the employees and fans of Disney showed to Henson was unmistakable, so maybe there was something to it.
“That and sincerity,” Henson added. “As George Burns said, learn to fake that and you’ll have it made.” Henson’s smile made clear that last part was a joke, and Eisner found himself laughing, completely caught off guard.
With his short sojourn in New Mexico complete (he called it his “exodus in in the desert”), Eisner returned to Columbia Tower in Atlanta, new handmade snakeskin cowboy boots on his feet and a new Navajo-made silver-and-turquois bola tie around his neck. His self-reflections there in the empty eternity of the desert had let him put things into perspective. In particular, he’d thought about Jeffrey Katzenberg, and their falling-out. His hate for Katzenberg had diminished somewhat over the years, evolving into a rivalry that had, in its own way, become a sort of game between the two. When he ran into Bob Iger, his old rival at ABC, at one gala, he actually took the time to speak with him. “Holding on to hate is like drinking poison, and expecting your enemy to die,” Jane Fonda had once told him, quoting the Dalai Lama or somebody. He decided to give that theory a try.
Columbia Chairman and CEO Michael Eisner takes Questions
To Eisner’s surprise he and Iger got along well, the old intrigues of a decade earlier long having dulled as “just business”. Iger had assumed duties as President/COO of Universal alongside Sumner Redstone as Chairman/CEO. The conversation, of course, led to Katzenberg, who’d just taken over as Chairman/CEO of Warner Brothers at the behest of new owners Comcast, coming up. Katzenberg was reportedly enjoying the challenge of trying to rebuild the studio in the wake of the post-Leap collapse. Eisner admitted to wanting to bury the hatchet. Iger agreed to set something up with Katzenberg.
The three met at Formosa Café and, while tensions were palpable at first, Eisner, taking a trick that he learned from Turner, immediately complimented Katzenberg on the latest numbers on the latest
Green Lantern film. They stuck to safe subjects that first meeting, but that first meeting led to a second, and then later others. Eventually, after a couple of high-end bourbons (Eisner having become an early afficionado of the US whisky renaissance) they both came clean about their rivalry. While neither seemed quite ready to admit fault, they both came to agree that the whole thing had been unproductive.
The very next week they made a deal on a Looney Tunes/Hanna-Barbera Friends crossover event. Eisner had only one condition: that Foghorn Leghorn and Henry Hawk have a noteworthy role, particularly the latter.
With hatchets buried with Katzenberg, Eisner got to work as Chairman/CEO of Columbia Entertainment. His next order of business was an exploratory meeting with Time-Atlantic set up by Tartikoff to consider a future merger.