When it comes to movie special effects, generally speaking, 80% is handled by computers in post-production, while 20% involves setting up 3D models.
Digital Domain was founded because James Cameron wasn't satisfied with Industrial Light & Magic's 3D modeling standards back in the day. They didn't match his vision for Titanic, so he started his own effects company to get it done himself.
That's why, in terms of 3D tech development, Digital Domain's capabilities leave even Industrial Light & Magic in the dust.
Their effects department is world-renowned and incredibly versatile—everything from massive physics-based dynamics plugins and implicit surface models for fluid particles, down to tiny batch-processing tools, is precise and stunning.
In particular, Digital Domain developed a large-scale, high-efficiency fluid dynamics software based on closed-flow container fields all on their own. For big scene effects, it's a game-changer—its efficiency can outpace Industrial Light & Magic by three times.
And for animated films, where every frame is packed with effects, it's a perfect match.
James Cameron's an artist. He's all in when it comes to shooting movies, holding art exhibits, or sailing the seas—stuff that excites him. But managing a company? He couldn't care less.
That's why Digital Domain had an amazing start but stumbled in the Hollywood effects race. The big boss was too busy with his own pursuits, leaving the company without enough business channels or support. It didn't take long for them to lose ground in the effects boom.
It wasn't a loss of tech—it was a loss of connections!
Without projects from movie studios, no matter how good Digital Domain was, they couldn't turn a profit.
Now, Dunn's planning to take over Digital Domain, and of course, that fits perfectly with James Cameron's thinking!
Did he start this effects company to make money?
Nonsense.
This industry barely breaks even.
To manage it and wield power?
Nonsense again.
Cameron never touches Digital Domain's management.
His one and only goal with the company? To have a team that can create effects exactly how he wants them when he's making a movie!
Given his friendship with Dunn, does it really matter if Digital Domain's in Dunn's hands instead of his?
He and Dunn are already the ultimate partners.
Plus, handing it off to Dunn saves him a ton of headaches.
Dunn doesn't screw over his friends—at least not when it comes to money. He's generous, slapping down a hefty $20 million offer for Digital Domain!
Keep in mind, Digital Domain's only the third-ranked effects company in Hollywood.
The second-ranked Pacific Data Images got bought out by DreamWorks Animation last year for just $17 million.
Dunn's $20 million price tag? That's sincerity in spades!
James Cameron doesn't care about a few million here or there. He directed The Unsinkable, with a 10% cut of global box office profits—that's a massive payday.
But the other two founders of Digital Domain, Stan Winston and Scott Ross, were absolutely thrilled.
Dunn, no doubt about it, is a big-shot boss!
Extravagant!
A week later, Tosca Musk got called into Dunn's office again.
This time, things felt different. Even the little secretary, Isla Fisher, gave her a sneaky wink, clearly hinting at some good news.
"Tosca, take a seat."
Dunn was laid-back as always. He grabbed a thick stack of papers from his desk, walked over to the sofa across from Tosca Musk, sat down, and slid the files over to her.
"What's this?" Tosca Musk asked, a little caught off guard.
Dunn said casually, "Over the past few days, I've talked it over with some of the company's top execs, and we all agree—you're the one we need!"
Of course, that was just his take.
According to Bill Mechanic, the attitude toward Tosca Musk was more like: either cut her loose early or back her up big time.
Someone as opinionated and proactive as her? If you use her right, she's a pillar of strength. If not, she's a ticking time bomb.
Clearly, Dunn was betting on trust.
Wasn't the whole reason he wanted to ditch Tony Grammo, the head of the R TV network, because the guy had no backbone?
Tosca Musk—independent, self-driven, open-minded, and tough—was worth Dunn's confidence.
More importantly, the more female execs Dunn Pictures had, the more it showed Dunn's support for feminism.
It was all part of the bigger strategic picture.
Hearing Dunn's words, Tosca Musk snapped to attention. This was a serious "organizational" talk. She sat up straight, all ears.
Dunn continued, "This is the paperwork for Dunn Pictures acquiring the remaining 50% of Sillywood Animation's shares. It's valued at $35 million. Take a look. If it's all good, you can sign it. Oh, and you'll need to explain it to your brother too."
When Sillywood Animation was first set up, Dunn Pictures put in $30 million for a 50% stake. Elon Musk chipped in $20 million for his sister, giving her a 40% share.
Tosca Musk, as the manager, held 10% in management shares.
Now, not even a year later, Dunn was bumping the company's value from $50 million to $70 million. Talk about generous.
And a little pushy!
This was obviously a negotiated deal, but Dunn had set the price single-handedly, prepped the files, and just waited for confirmation.
No room for haggling!
Tosca Musk took the papers, skimmed them, and grinned. "If my brother finds out I made him this much money, he's going to be over the moon."
"So, you're good with it?"
"Of course! This price is totally fair! Only downside is I lose my management shares."
Dunn waved it off. "Dunn Pictures is still in a strategic growth phase—no stock restructuring yet. But I keep track of everyone who contributes to the company. You don't need to worry about that."
Tosca Musk giggled. "I know! This deal alone proves how big-hearted you are, boss."
Dunn pointed at her with a chuckle and shook his head. "Two more things to tell you. First, I've wrapped up the Digital Domain acquisition—it's in the contract phase now. I want you, as VP of Dunn Pictures, to take over the case and merge Digital Domain into Sillywood Animation after the buyout."
Tosca Musk froze.
Dunn's words were loaded with info!
"Digital Domain's already acquired? It's at the contract stage? That fast? It's only been a week!"
Dunn shot back, "If you offered $20 million for Digital Domain, you could close a deal in half a month too!"
Tosca Musk pouted. "Big boss moves—money talks! But VP? Did I just get promoted?"
Dunn grinned. "What, not happy about it?"
"No, no, no—it's just so unexpected!" Tosca Musk was too stunned to even feel excited, her face full of surprise.
In terms of experience or tenure, she clearly wasn't ready to be VP at Dunn Pictures.
The president was Bill Mechanic, and the VP was Wes Cotton—both ex-20th Century Fox execs with stellar track records.
Her resume? Way too thin.
Dunn mused, "I'm giving you this role mainly to show how much I value the animation side of things. Plus, it's tied to the vision you showed in our last talk—I really admire your strategic thinking."
Tosca Musk tested the waters. "So, you want me to handle strategic business for Dunn Pictures? Isn't that Mr. Cotton's job?"
Dunn clarified, "Your focus is still Sillywood Animation. The extra task? I want you to build a solid relationship with Viacom when you're handing over Fantastic Four."
Tosca Musk's eyes lit up. "So my ideas last time were on the right track?"
Dunn nodded with a smile. "Not just me—Bill agrees too."
Tosca Musk smirked, practically beaming.
That feeling of being valued by the boss and proving her worth? Better than a date any day.
Dunn went on, "Following your plan, we can offload Fantastic Four to Nickelodeon at a low price. And it just so happens that Dick Clark Productions, under Dunn Pictures, makes American Idol, which also partners with Viacom's B channel. I want you to handle both of those and build a strong bond with Viacom—or rather, with Mr. Redstone."
Tosca Musk grinned playfully. "You're not asking me to charm that old guy with my looks, are you?"
Dunn frowned. "Tosca, that's not funny! You're a top-tier professional I'm grooming, not some third-rate actress! And honestly, even with actors, I'd never force anyone into that."
"Alright, my bad," Tosca Musk said, raising her hands in surrender before chuckling. "I get it. Building a good relationship with Redstone is just a front. That old fox has more life experience than both of us combined—pleasing him's tough. Our real play is to lull him."
"Exactly—lull him!"
Dunn nodded approvingly. "With Spider-Man hitting screens, the TV network's already in family viewers' sights. Your top job now is to keep Redstone off our backs for the short term so he doesn't mess with the network!"
"Short term?"
"At least until September!"
"September?"
Tosca Musk's delicate brows furrowed slightly. "Four months? That's easy to manage. But Dunn, are you sure the network can hold its own against the big dogs in just a few months?"
"Nope!"
"Huh?"
Dunn smirked, dangling a tease. "But I've got a secret weapon to boost us overnight."
Tosca Musk blinked. "Band of Brothers?"
Dunn rolled his eyes. "You're pretty plugged in, huh!"
"One TV show can shake up the cable TV game?" Tosca Musk wasn't buying it, her face skeptical.
Dunn waved it off. "Don't worry about that. Your job, as VP, is to handle Redstone's PR for me!"
"No problem!"
Tosca Musk took a deep breath, answering with crisp confidence, then flashed a sly smile. "So, what about my big animated movie? How much are you investing?"
"$80 million!"
"What?!"
Tosca Musk stared at Dunn, speechless for once.
Boss Dunn—extravagant as ever!