Michael Eisner's Office, Universal City, CA
September 1, 1978
Leading Universal Pictures hadn't been quite as hard as Mike Eisner had thought it would be, but it wasn't easy, either. He'd never ranked this high in a company before, and was just now appreciating the huge gap in workloads between vice-president and president. Eisner had taken a week's break and gone on vacation to Fiji to get away from the hectic studio, but needed to come back at some point. In his absence, everyone had finally gotten settled into a state of normalcy that probably hadn't existed since before Sid Sheinberg's accident.
A stack of papers stretching to the ceiling sat in Eisner's inbox. Luckily, the gist of things had been condensed into a three-page packet of statistics, numbers, and paragraphs upon paragraphs comparing a man-eating shark to a wizard with a flashlight. Times had changed, and it seemed like the very idea of a blockbuster that Universal had created was being usurped by their new foe.
A single graph said it all. It displayed the total box office returns on
Jaws,
Star Wars, and
Jaws 2. Of the three,
Jaws 2 was doing the worst at the period of ten weeks, just below its older sibling's performance and
far below the cultural phenomenon of
Star Wars. But the film was by no means a slouch, and was rapidly rocketing up the charts in the terms of money.
Still, Eisner had a problem on his hands. Obviously
Jaws wasn't going to be Universal's
Star Wars, and no matter how hard he tried, Steven Spielberg was utterly disinterested in making a threequel. So they'd need something to replace it, and the studio was looking through their backlogs on what projects were being made with their money and promise of distribution.
One stood out the most, a screenplay written by Dan O'Bannon and directed by Ridley Scott named
Alien. They'd pitched it as "
Jaws in space," and that had been enough to get an increasingly Disney-paranoid Sheinberg to sign off on it. Now, they were still filming at a soundstage in London, but that was set to wrap up in about a month's time, and the whole escapade would be ready for release sometime next year. From what Mike Eisner had seen, the movie wasn't just scary--it was horrifying. The part where an alien hatchling burst out of some guy's chest... it had given him nightmares for weeks.
Of course, there was also the more immediate option,
Halloween, a horror flick set to fittingly open up in October. Universal wasn't playing much of a role in its production, but again, Sidney Sheinberg had signed it on for distribution last year. The movie was also absolutely terrifying, and its serial killer antagonist Michael Meyers had
also given him nightmares. Maybe that's why he was so tired all the time...
And then, there was also
Woody Woodpecker. Re-establishing Universal's animation department hadn't been easy, but preliminary sketches and storylines were being written up at an astounding pace. Did Eisner think
Woody could do anything to put a dent in Mickey Mouse's armor? No, probably not. The mouse was too damn recognizeable. But would it be a good launching point to bring back the bird as the mouse's rival? Yes, yes it would.
--------------------------------
"
In 1978, Universal and Paramount made a deal that would change the face of TV forever. It meant new Star Trek: Phase II episodes on Friday nights, and Woody Woodpecker cartoons on Saturday mornings, as well as the Paramount Television Service's new access to all the MCAUniversal properties."
--From
Going Global: A History of Universal Pictures, by Otto Friedrich
"
Fox's biggest blunder was turning down Alien in the 70s IMO. If they'd taken the chance on it then maybe they would've been able to come back."
--Posted by user Mac_Z on
moviemoguls.com, 2:34 AM, July 16, 2012
--------------------------------
Walt Disney's Office, Burbank, CA
September 1, 1978
Just a few miles away, Walt Disney was also sitting at his desk and going through his papers, just like Michael Eisner. His stack was much shorter, though no less interesting.
The first item was more information on George Lucas and Steven Spielberg's new film,
Raiders of the Lost Ark. Just like how
Star Wars paid homage to the science-fiction comic strips of Lucas's childhood,
Raiders walked the path of the 1950s adventure serials that played before movies, always with a cliffhanger to entice you to return next time. It was shaping up nicely, Christmas 1979 being the goal for release day. Harrison Ford, who had been a bit troublesome during the making of
Star Wars (due to a subtle distaste of his character, Han Solo), was quickly showing his true colors as an outstanding actor, one of the best Walt had ever seen.
Zipping down past that, he then looked into how things were going with Don Bluth and the rest. Walt had screened the remade
Steamboat Willie a few days ago, and had instantly fallen in love with it. It was so well done, and it perfectly captured what he and Ub Iwerks had been going for in 1928. And the animators had transferred that spirit into
Mickey Mousecapade, the real deal. As usual, he refused to see the movie before opening night, but George Lucas and Steven Spielberg had both watched it, and had nothing but glowing remarks. The guys in animation were working around the clock at this point, trying to get everything done as November 18 loomed on the horizon...
What seemed like a novel's-worth of pages on pages of notes and synopses on shows coming to the Disney Channel was up next.
Star Wars: The Animated Series was of course front-and-center (as was the record from Queen with the main theme on it, which he had to get around to listening to), but
Hercules: Hero of Legend, Colorful, Welcome to the Hundred Acre Wood, it's a small world, and
The Discovery Bay Chronicles all kept it in good company.
Finally, his favorite part of the whole bunch.
Hood, set for a 1980 debut, would begin filming soon, with Walt, of all people, as the director. For the past three years, he and other writers at Burbank had been fine-tuning a script for their Robin Hood adaptation, which had, over the years, morphed into a modern reimagining instead of another retelling. It was Walt's passion project, the first live-action movie he'd put effort into since
Mary Poppins.
The living legend decided to take a break for a moment. Sometimes, he worked himself too hard, something he was growing acutely aware of as he aged. Walt stood, stretched, and walked across the room to the far wall. Three arcade cabinets sat there, but he made a beeline for the middle game:
Space Invaders. Tony Baxter and Rolly Crump were having some trouble with
Black Hole's design, so Walt had figured he'd give them some help and get ideas by playing Atari and Taito's newest sensation. But as time went on, he was finding it harder and harder to justify his playing as "research" and not "pleasure." Hopefully, Walt could keep focused and ignore the possibility that Atari--and Universal--might be beating him at his own game.