May marks a fresh start.
The DVD sales for Spider-Man and Saw have been a smashing success, and they've now smoothly rolled out to the rental market. Sure, Dunn's scooped up Netflix—owning 80% of it through Dunn Capital—but it's not like he can just prop it up to dethrone Blockbuster, the rental kingpin. Blockbuster's got 81.5% of its shares locked down by the Viacom Group, and Netflix is still too small to take on that giant, no matter how much Dunn might want to push it. Netflix's real shot at glory? That's a decade away in the streaming world.
So, for now, Dunn didn't hand the rental rights for Spider-Man and Saw exclusively to Netflix. Instead, he split them between Netflix and Blockbuster. On the TV front, Spider-Man has already cracked open a door for Tarz TV. It's still a long haul to get families subscribing, but with its massive pull, the movie's scored killer ratings and kicked things off strong.
Meanwhile, GA Toys, a company Dunn's invested in, has officially launched their "Bezz Dolls" to take on the iconic Barbie. Dunn's arrival has shaken up the entertainment industry big-time. Thanks to his meddling, GA Toys shelled out $3 million to strike a deal with Mattel, securing the Bezz Dolls' copyright outright. That means when Bezz Dolls blow up in a few years and start splitting the doll market with Barbie, Mattel won't have a legal leg to stand on to shut them down.
Oh, and one more thing—Silicon Valley Animation Studios, another Dunn investment, has pretty much wrapped their first project, Fantastic Four. It cost $30 million to make, and they've inked a copyright deal with Nickelodeon for $8 million. When Dunn heard that, he nearly hit the roof.
What the heck is Tosca Musk playing at? Even if you don't count the Fantastic Four rights—which Dunn handed over for free—this animated flick still took a $30 million investment and almost a year of hard work from the whole team. And they sold it off for just $8 million? Is this a joke? Does Tosca even know how to do business? Sure, Nickelodeon's backed by Viacom, but does that mean she has to roll over like that?
Fuming, Dunn summoned Tosca Musk to his office. Per their investment deal, Silicon Valley Animation has full operational control, with Tosca calling the shots. But Dunn Films owns 50% of the company, so he's got every right to demand answers.
Tosca strolled in, her golden hair shining, dressed in a sharp black-and-white business suit. As always, she looked stunning—every bit the polished, elite professional. "Big boss, judging by that face… you're not about to chew me out again, are you?" she teased, her tone half-joking, half-flirty. As a career woman, she knew how to play her cards, and that playful vibe could melt half a guy's anger on the spot.
Dunn frowned, pointing at the sofa. "The animation's done?"
"Pretty much. We're just doing final tweaks. Barring any hiccups, it'll be ready for handover in June." Tosca tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, taking a coffee from the secretary with a sweet "Thanks."
Dunn nodded. "A CG animated film finished in under ten months? Your team's efficiency is impressive."
Tosca smiled. "It's animation, not a live-action movie. But I'll say this—no animated film in history will match the quality we've put into Fantastic Four."
Dunn smirked, his tone dripping with sarcasm. "Oh, sure. Most animations cost $3 million tops, and you spent a cool $30 million!"
Tosca grinned, her eyes flickering up at him. "Boss, you're not… mad at me, are you?"
Dunn kept it cool. "I just need an explanation."
"Explanation?" Tosca perked up like she'd just caught on. "Oh, you mean the $8 million copyright deal?"
Dunn's brow furrowed. "$8 million for a buyout? Don't you think that's way too low?"
Take Band of Brothers—a $120 million investment, and its North American TV rights fetched at least $50 million. Fantastic Four cost $30 million and only pulled in $8 million? That's a raw deal.
Tosca shook her head. "It's not a buyout. It's a 20-year copyright term."
Dunn laughed, half-exasperated. "Twenty years? What's the difference? Sure, Fantastic Four's effects might look good now, but in 20 years, will anyone care? Will anyone even watch it?"
Tosca shrugged. "Still beats a buyout."
Dunn's face darkened, his voice firm. "Tosca, I don't like your attitude."
Tosca sighed, a little helpless. "Alright, fine. I'll explain it seriously. $8 million is low, I'll give you that. But this deal benefits us in at least three ways."
"Oh?"
"First, it helps Tarz TV grow—"
"Hold up!" Dunn cut her off, hand raised, looking stunned. "What'd you say? Tarz TV? What's that got to do with you? Tosca, I want an explanation, not excuses!"
Tosca didn't flinch. "Silicon Valley Animation is a Dunn Films subsidiary, and so is Tarz TV. I figure if we look at things from a bigger picture, we can do better work."
It's simple logic—the more value Silicon Valley Animation brings, the more Dunn will care. Growing up in a single-parent home with her mom raising her and her siblings, Tosca learned the ropes early. Her brother Elon was leading the charge, getting her and their younger siblings into small businesses from grade school. That upbringing sharpened her business sense and social instincts.
Tosca's no fool—she's picked up on Dunn's skepticism about her and her projects. Every other Dunn Films acquisition—like Marvel or Focus Features—was a full buyout. Silicon Valley Animation? Just 50%. That's a clear hedge, a sign he doesn't fully trust her. She's out to prove she's got the chops to not just help Dunn Films but climb higher. She didn't ditch Silicon Valley for Hollywood to coast—she's here for the challenge.
Dunn gave her a long, hard look, realizing more and more this woman's no pushover. "Go on," he said, voice low.
"I don't know much about Tarz TV, but I know it's a niche cable network up against HBO and Showtime—two giants backed by massive media conglomerates. Showtime's got Viacom behind it. If we play nice with Viacom now, make Sumner Redstone happy for a bit, it might delay some of the heat from competitors."
Dunn shook his head, amused. "Make Redstone happy? That stubborn old man? Good luck with that. Showing weakness to throw him off might work better."
"I say we do both," Tosca replied, a sly smile tugging at her lips.
"Oh?"
"That's my second point." She paused, then continued slowly. "We've all heard the rumors—Disney's in talks with News Corp to buy Fox Family Entertainment from 20th Century Fox. Word is, they're close to sealing the deal."
"If that goes through, Disney Channel will be the world's biggest cable network, and Viacom's cable lineup will drop to second place. Nickelodeon, no matter how cheap they got it, will just be a sidekick to Disney's kids' channel. Putting Fantastic Four on Nickelodeon now? It undercuts Disney's momentum and earns us some goodwill with Viacom."
"Viacom's market cap is closing in on $100 billion—more than double Disney's! I think Dunn Films' best move right now is teaming up with Viacom to counter Disney. It'd also ease some of the roadblocks Tarz TV's facing. At the very least, it keeps Viacom from stabbing us in the back."
That spiel made Dunn see her in a new light. This woman's sharp.
Comcast, the biggest cable operator in the U.S., and Viacom, the top cable content provider, are tight partners. If Viacom wanted to kneecap Tarz TV, they could lean on Comcast for a few easy moves. Like those set-top boxes every cable user needs—Comcast could bundle or push Showtime for free while giving Tarz the cold shoulder. When folks try signing up for Tarz, Comcast could throw up random hurdles or have staff casually mention "cheaper, just-as-good Showtime." That'd be a gut punch. They could even jack up Tarz's installation and operating fees while slashing Showtime's—straight-up sabotage.
Unless Tarz TV starts bringing Comcast more profit than Showtime, that is. If it did, even if Viacom played dirty, Comcast would side with the bigger payday. But right now, Showtime's the number-two cable network behind HBO—way ahead of Tarz in installs, subscribers, fame, influence, and content depth. Getting Comcast to pick Tarz over Showtime? Tough sell.
Dunn, though? He's got an answer: absolutely doable. Why? He's holding an ace—Band of Brothers.