The calendar on the wall of the executive suite at Paramount Pictures flipped to January 1973.
Duke Hauser stood by the open window of the meeting room, his hands tucked into the pockets of his trousers, watching people walk around the lot.
Behind him, the room was filled with executives.
Robert Evans sat at the head of the table smoking, his tan looking even more intense than normal, his eyes hidden behind his signature color glasses.
Across from him, Barry Diller was seated, currently obsessed with a "Toy Cube" that Duke had brought back from his workshop to have on his office, Diller was playing with it.
"I swear, Duke, this thing is like meth," Diller muttered, his eyes narrowing. "I spent three hours on it last night and I'm further from the solution than when I started."
Duke laughed, pulling out a chair and joining them at the table. "That's the point, Barry. It's supposed to be difficult."
He tapped the 1973 slate folder resting in the center of the table, pulling the focus back to the immediate issue. "But for now, let's talk about a different kind of thing, the 1973 slate. Bob, start with the heavy hitters."
Evans leaned forward, and pointed at the top of the list, "The Exorcist, we've already got the religious groups in a frenzy based on the early screenings. The outrage is our best publicity. We don't need to spend a dime on traditional TV spots when every Sunday morning sermon in the country is going to be a free advertisement for us. Of course, i was thinking you could wear a cross to avoid people calling us devil worshippers."
Duke nodded, "Exactly. We lean into the controversy."
Evans shifted the conversation to the next pillar of their strategy. "And then there's Serpico. That's our star-power play. We are betting on Pacino's star power for this film."
Diller, finally setting the cube down, leaned into the discussion. "The logistics on Serpico are tight, but the buzz in New York is phenomenal. People are already treating Pacino like a hero cause of The Godfather."
They spent the next hour discusing the rest of the year's heavyweights.
The conversation truly ignited when they reached two of Duke's personal favorites for this year's release, American Graffiti and Magnum Force.
"George Lucas has captured lightning in a bottle with Graffiti," Duke said, "We're going to market it to every person who misses 1962, which, in the current political climate, is basically the entire country."
"And then we have Magnum Force. Clint Eastwood is our insurance policy. He's a reliable force of the box office. The working-class audience loves to see Harry Callahan clean up the streets."
Diller picked up the cube again, absentmindedly rotating the top layer. "It's a hell of a slate, Duke. But the marketing spend is going to be astronomical. We need to be smart about the demographics."
Duke leaned back, a confident smile spreading across his face. "That's why we're using the stars as our vanguard. For Annie Hall, we sell Diane Keaton star power."
"For Black Christmas, we target the drive-ins and the teenagers with a horror angle that hasn't been seen yet. We need to adapt and overcome."
The meeting wrapped up with a flurry of signatures and final directives, leaving Duke alone in the office as the afternoon sun began to dip toward the horizon.
He moved to his private desk, his hand hovering over the secure telephone line. He dialed the number for Atari.
"Nolan, tell me you have good news," Duke said as soon as the line connected.
Nolan Bushnell's voice crackled through the receiver, sounding energized and exhausted in equal measure. "Duke! I was just about to call you. Christmas went in the best way possible. We moved approximately 150,000 units of Home Pong during this time. Sears is ecstatic."
"They've already placed a follow-up order for the first quarter. It's lower than the holiday peak, obviously, but the baseline demand is holding steady."
Duke let out a long, satisfied breath, leaning back in his leather chair. "That's a hell of a first sale, for an object that didnt exist in the public mind a few months ago, Nolan. But let's talk about something. I've been reading the reports from Japan. How are we doing against the 'clones'?"
The tone of Nolan's voice shifted, the excitement replaced by frustration. "The pirate machines in Japan are still kicking our asses, Duke"
"It's like a hydra, we shut one down, and three more pop up in an alley in Akihabara. The legal matters are stalled in the local courts, they say they don't have a framework for 'copyrighting' a circuit board yet."
"But the pressure the goverment has been applying through the embassy is starting to pay off. The American Ambassador to Japan has been making noises, and the FTC is actually taking this seriously now."
"They're starting to see it as an intellectual property issue rather than just a toy dispute. In America, it's a bit cleaner. We're competing with a dozen different arcade startups, but we're making our real money on the licensing side. Piracy exists here, sure, but the threat of a Paramount-backed lawsuit is a lot more terrifying to a guy in Chicago than it is to a guy in Tokyo."
Duke tapped a rhythmic beat against the desk with a silver pen. "It's a systemic problem, Nolan. And it's a problem that's built into the hardware."
"Right now, Atari games are designed using discrete logic. You're engineering circuits to perform a specific task. So any engineer with a soldering iron and a little bit of patience can map out our board and reproduce the 'logic' without ever seeing a line of code."
Nolan sighed, the sound of a man who had been wrestling with the same thought. "I know. It's the limitation of the current tech. We're trying to move toward microprocessors, but the cost is still prohibitive for an arcade cabinet, let alone a home console. We're stuck in the hardwired era for a little longer."
"Then let's change the architecture," Duke said, his voice taking on that tone that usually signaled a massive shift in strategy. "I don't want to just sell a machine anymore, Nolan. I want to sell a platform."
"Think about the way the record industry works. You don't buy a new record player for every album you want to hear. You buy the player once, and then you buy the discs."
"I want you to start focusing the engineering team on a modular arcade system. A base unit that stays in the arcade, a robust, high-performance motherboard with a standard interface that can be mass produced. And then, we sell the games as interchangeable cartridges or boards."
"The operator only has to buy the 'body' once. When a new game comes out, they just swap the cartridge. It lowers the barrier to entry for the arcade owners, and it allows us to control the software distribution far more tightly."
There was a long silence on the other end of the line. "Duke... that's a massive engineering hurdle. You're talking about a level of modularity that doesn't really exist in the consumer space yet."
"We'd need to design a proprietary bus, a secure connector, and a whole new logic for how the machine handles different 'programs' without being a full-blown computer. The cost of development alone would be-"
Duke cut him off with a gentle but firm tone. "The cost of development is my problem. Your problem is making it work. If we can lock the arcade owners into an Atari 'Base Unit,' we can own the market more, remember we're now competing with a lot of companies, we cannot fall back."
Nolan's voice regained its spark, the challenge clearly beginning to take root in his mind. "A platform. It would change the entire economics of the industry. No more shipping five-hundred-pound cabinets across the country for every new title. We just ship the boards. The shipping savings alone would be millions."
Duke smiled, knowing he'd hooked him. "Exactly. And it gives us a clear path to the home market. Once we master the cartridge system in the arcades, we shrink it down for the living room. Imagine a home console where you don't just play Pong, you play whatever game you want, just by sliding in a new piece of plastic. That's the end-game, Nolan."
"I'll get the guys on it," Nolan promised, "It's going to be a hell of a year, Duke. Between the Sears orders and this new architecture, we're going to be moving a lot of silicon."
Duke leaned back, relaxing. "Keep me posted on the Japan situation. I'll talk to Diller, and we're going to have another talk with my contacts in D.C. to make sure the diplomatic pressure doesn't slack off." He hung up the phone.
A few minutes later, a light knock on the door announced the arrival of Michael Eisner.
Duke turned, offering a smile. He liked Eisner.
He liked the man's ambition and his ability to see the commercial potential in the smallest of ideas.
Today was a big day for Michael, his recent successes in steering the television department toward higher ratings and better synergy had earned him a formal promotion.
He was now officially the Head of TV Production for Paramount, a role that belonged to Barry Diller until a few months ago.
"Michael, come in. Have a seat." Duke said, gesturing to the sofa.
Eisner sat, "I wanted to come thank you personally for the promotion, Duke. Heading up TV... it's exactly where the growth is."
Duke nodded, leaning back and crossing his legs. "You've earned it, Michael. You've got a sense for what the audience wants before they even know they want it."
Eisner leaned forward, "Since we're talking about the future, I wanted to bring something up. Mattel numbers are getting worse."
Duke wasn't surprised. He had told Eisner to stare at the situation.
Mattel was bound to do Creative Accounting, phantom sales, manipulated inventory, and desperate attempts to keep the stock price inflated while the actual toy market fluctuated.
"Tell me more." Duke said simply, "We know they're cooking the books, Michael. How do we take advantage."
Eisner let out a short breath, "I got no idea, for now it's either taking a stake or buying them out, but it will be collapsing soon, probably by end of the year."
"Which brings me to my next point," Eisner continued, "I'm honored by the TV promotion, Duke. Truly. But I'm going to be honest with you. My goal is to be the CEO of Paramount."
It was a bold statement, considering Barry Diller, the man who currently held the position and was Eisner's direct mentor was sitting just a few doors down.
Duke didn't care. Eisner had already told him before, and he was telling him exactly where he stood.
"I know Barry is the man right now," Eisner said, holding Duke's gaze. "And I respect him more than anyone. But I see where you're taking this company, Duke. I'm the best option if something happens to Diller."
Duke nodded slowly, an approving smile on his face. "I appreciate the passion, Michael. Ambition isn't a sin at Paramount. Barry is doing a hell of a job, but the world changes. Keep doing what you're doing, and the path will open up. But if you want to prove you're ready for the big chair, I have a challenge for you."
Duke leaned forward, "I want to start an internal toy division. Not just a licensing office where we collect checks from Mattel, but a dedicated 'Paramount Toys' design house."
"I don't want to build factories, I want us to handle the R&D, the character design, and the play-patterns. We design the toys, we build the prototypes, and then we collaborate with a manufacturing partner to bring them to market."
"How would you start that, Michael? How do we build a toy company from scratch inside a movie studio?" Eisner's eyes lit up. He took a moment, his mind clearly whirring through the logistics.
"It's about integration, Duke," Eisner began, his hands moving to emphasize his points. "I'd start by embedding toy designers directly into the pre-production phase of our TV and film projects."
This was something that they were already doing for the Blue Bettle animated series.
"When the concept artists are drawing a vehicle for a show, they shouldn't just be thinking about what looks cool on screen, they should be working with a toy engineer to make sure the door hinges work and the scale fits a three-and-a-half-inch figure."
Duke nodded, liking the direction. "And what about the IP?"
Eisner leaned back, a grin on his face. "We already have the perfect foundation, DC. Now that you've consolidated the rights, we have the greatest group of characters in comic history," Eisner paused "we also have Katzenberg new project. The one the animation department has been talking about. Ben 10."
Duke felt a surge of satisfaction. "Tell me how you see Paramount developing," Duke prompted.
Eisner laughed, "Well, movies, comics and series are our core, from that we get most of our money, but we need to develop in the direction of Theme Parks and Videogames, since they both seem like markets we can easily occupy cause of a lack of strong competitors."
After an hour, Eisner left, Duke wanted Eisner to lead Paramount in the future, and use him to avoid Diller abusing his powers. Specially since Duke planned to be a hand off shopkepper.
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