A wise elder in the family is like a treasure.
Meeting a mentor like Jack Welch was Dunn's good fortune.
Dunn watched him quietly, listening intently.
Jack Welch began, "You've probably heard about my philosophy when I ran General Electric—the 'number one or number two' rule. In global competition, every GE division had to be the top dog or runner-up in its field. If not, we'd cut it loose."
Dunn frowned. "That's tough in media. It's already an oligopoly. Even with News Corp pushing Fox Network, it can't shake the big three. Hollywood's split between six giants too."
Welch grinned. "So you figure you'll buy Universal Studios, become a movie oligarch, then snag NBC to rule TV?"
Dunn nodded honestly. "I can't see another way. Money alone won't crack this."
Welch said, "The method's fine, but your thinking's off."
"Tell me more."
"Companies and entrepreneurs chase the same thread, but their missions can clash—sometimes completely! Dunn, you're after wealth, women, power—no shame in that. But a company's purpose can't be so selfish. Dunn Pictures is growing, employees piling up. You need a strong, righteous, universal belief to unite them."
Dunn shrugged. "What, like slogans? Google's 'don't be evil' didn't do much—they're running bid rankings now."
He'd seen too many hollow corporate catchphrases in his past life—empty noise like, "Customers first, teamwork, embrace change, integrity, passion, dedication."
This wasn't some pyramid scheme brainwashing. Could a few buzzwords really fire up a company?
Welch straightened. "That's Google's mess-up. A company's core is mission, action, results. Let me give you an example."
"There's this water treatment company. Their mission was, 'We do water treatment—it's great.' Not exactly thrilling, and a bit goofy, honestly. New leadership came in, spent three months digging, and zeroed in on a project from six years back. It saved water for clients and kept them off the EPA's fine list."
"With that, they redefined the mission: 'We deliver clean water, boost client profits, and promote a sustainable world.' They even put up a public screen in the office showing how much water they saved globally each day."
"That got people pumped! Employees started telling everyone how their work—saving water—was saving the world. What a grand, thrilling mission! They poured passion into it, pushing sales to save the planet, and profits soared."
Dunn's eyes widened, nearly laughing. "You're saying a businessman's mission is to change the world?"
Welch shook his head. "A businessman's mission is to make money! But slap a 'change the world' label on it, and you'll make more. Edison sold himself as an inventor, Gates pushed personal PCs—same game, different skin."
Dunn tossed out some American humor. "Guess we owe Edison big time. Without him, no Hollywood today."
Welch looked awkward.
Edison's rep wasn't spotless, sure, but he founded GE—Welch's ancestor of sorts. Dunn's jab stung a little.
Dunn chuckled to smooth it over. "I get it. Personal ambition hides behind a shiny wrapper. A compelling concept drives a company's spirit. A dreamy shared vision gets everyone fired up."
Welch nodded. "I don't come to Hollywood much, but it feels stale, lifeless—like some creaky old geezer. Total opposite of Silicon Valley's buzz and hustle."
Dunn frowned, mulling it over. "Entertainment's just movies, music, TV—maybe theme parks and games. Where's the lofty concept to dress that up?"
Welch locked eyes with him. "Don't you want to rule Hollywood? It's been decades—power's locked in place. To break that and rise above, you've got to smash the status quo! If you don't know how to change the world, start with changing Hollywood!"
"Change Hollywood?"
Dunn's eyes popped, his heart pounding. It hit him hard.
Reborn into this life, he wasn't here to coast. He wanted to leave his mark on Hollywood.
Changing Hollywood? Now that was an exciting hook!
He'd already shaken things up—introducing "portfolio investing" to revamp decades-old film financing, reworking the Marvel and Pirates universes, founding Rose Pictures to push women's rights, and dragging premium cable TV from the fringes into the mainstream.
The future held even more to transform!
Welch watched Dunn light up and smiled. "Hollywood's too old, too stuck. Like you said, retirees from 20 years back still pull strings. That's unfair. The current setup's pissing plenty of people off—that's your glue for Dunn Pictures!"
Dunn took a deep breath, spine stiffening, brimming with swagger like he could command the skies. "Alright, I'll change the world—starting with Hollywood!"
Welch laughed heartily. "That's the spirit! Once your company goes public, you'll see why this 'change the world' bit matters. Traditional firms max out at 20 times earnings. Tech? 80 times, 100, even 200! Why? Changing the world means toppling the old guard—it's a golden child with endless potential!"
Change could come from anywhere—methods, content, channels. First, you need a rallying cry.
Back at the office, Dunn stewed all afternoon and came up with: "New Order, New Model, New Force, New Hollywood!"
Bill Mechanic gaped, stunned. "Dunn, what are you up to?"
Dunn, buzzing, said, "Lately, I've noticed the staff's adrift. Me being filthy rich might've thrown them off—no direction, no chase, just sinking with me. This is Dunn Pictures' new spirit—to pull everyone out of the fog and fight again! We're aiming big—building a new Hollywood world!"
Bill's lips twisted, brows knitting. "Dunn, this isn't a joke!"
"You think I'm kidding?"
Dunn was half-amused, half-annoyed. Vision-wise, Bill couldn't hold a candle to Welch.
Welch saw Dunn as the next Edison, Rockefeller, Morita, Bezos, or Gates—a legend who'd rake in billions and reshape the world, a timeless business icon.
Selfish gain meets public good—that's the perfect life.
Bill, though, was still stuck in Hollywood's bubble, fretting over backlash from Dunn's bold moves.
Dunn waved it off grandly. "DreamWorks threw out a similar line when it started. It wasn't the dream that failed—Katzenberg and Spielberg just didn't have the chops! The Big Six crushed them. I'll rise above. They bent under pressure—I'll fight to the end!"
After two years with Dunn, Bill knew this tone meant no arguing. He sighed. "If you do this, the old guard'll hit back."
Dunn sneered. "The Big Six? Everyone but Disney's our partner."
Bill countered, "Studios care about profits, not order. I mean the shadowy bunch calling the shots behind the scenes."
Dunn spat out a crude jab. "Those old fossils?"
Bill's forehead creased.
He'd come up as a producer—technically part of that old guard.
"Hollywood's a business, but it's bogged down by non-business crap. Why? It's darker than the White House or Wall Street! Markets should be about profit, serving consumers—not kissing the rings of those decrepit has-beens!"
Dunn was fired up. Old-timers like Kirk Douglas kept popping up to lecture him. He'd bitten his tongue before—now he was done.
"Forget them. Today's studios lean on giant media conglomerates, under insane profit pressure, and ignore those geezers more and more. Their real sway's down to the Oscars. I'm young—don't need a big personal trophy yet."
Best Director was Dunn's shot at a solo award, but at his age? Too soon.
"Bill, in a few days, I'm pumping a fat stack into Dunn Pictures—$7 billion, at least!"
"$7 billion?"
Bill's eyes bulged.
Dunn waved him off. "Set it up. I want Company and Dolby Laboratories locked down fast. Oh, and send Vivendi an invite—make it crystal clear: I'm buying Universal!"