Chapter 202: The King of Disney
The next day, just as Aaron was preparing to leave Washington, D.C., he received a request for a meeting from an Israeli-American named Haim Saban.
"Cooperation?" Aaron's eyes flickered with mild amusement. A television executive whose company focused almost entirely on children's programming now wanted to collaborate with Dawnlight.
"Are you looking to move from television into film?" Aaron asked casually.
Haim Saban nodded.
"I was wondering whether Mr. Anderson might be willing to give us an opportunity."
Aaron let out a soft sigh.
"Then tell me—what does Saban Entertainment actually bring to the table?"
"Or rather," he added bluntly, "do you control a television network?"
Haim Saban paused, then shook his head.
"We mainly produce children's and family-oriented television series."
Aaron's interest faded instantly.
"If you have scripts, submit them directly to Dawnlight."
Another would-be partner with no capital, no distribution channel, and no leverage—yet expecting collaboration out of thin air. Aaron had little patience for that.
If it weren't for Steven Spielberg's recommendation, this man wouldn't even have qualified for a meeting.
After wasting over an hour with Haim Saban, Aaron headed straight to Washington National Airport.
---
Back in Los Angeles, Dawnlight's next major production—Forrest Gump—was about to begin filming.
Director Robert Zemeckis, along with Tom Hanks, Sally Field, Mykelti Williamson, Elizabeth Hurley, and the rest of the cast attended the official launch press conference.
Following The Mask of Zorro, Dawnlight was once again rolling out a $60 million blockbuster.
That evening, at the Shutters on the Beach Hotel in Santa Monica, Aaron stood by the window, quietly taking in the Pacific nightscape.
Elizabeth Hurley, dressed in a sheer, sensual nightgown, walked over gracefully and planted a soft kiss on his cheek.
"What's wrong?" she asked with a smile.
"Dawnlight has achieved something most studios can only dream of—and yet you still look preoccupied?"
Aaron smiled, pulling the woman into his arms as his hand traced the curves of her figure.
"You seem… different tonight."
"Of course I am," Elizabeth Hurley wrapped her arms around his neck, her nightgown slipping open to reveal her flawless body.
"The female lead in a $60 million production produced by Aaron Anderson—how could I not be excited?"
The two of them kissed, the sea breeze outside the window fluttering their loose sleepwear like waves.
---
Meanwhile, at the Sofitel Hotel in Beverly Hills, Disney was hosting a grand celebration.
The animated feature Aladdin had just crossed $210 million at the North American box office, with global earnings exceeding $500 million.
Jeffrey Katzenberg, head of Disney's film division, was glowing with success as he spoke at length with Michael Eisner about upcoming projects. Old friends for many years, the two were now locked in a subtle power struggle within Disney—but whenever time allowed, they still shared meals together.
"Jeffrey," Eisner asked suddenly,
"Have you met with the Weinstein brothers from Miramax?"
Disney wanted prestige—real artistic credibility—and awards. Acquiring an art-house studio was the fastest route.
Katzenberg nodded.
"We've met. Miramax is drowning in debt. The Weinsteins don't really have a choice."
"Disney acquiring Miramax won't be difficult," he continued,
"but they insist on maintaining Miramax's independence."
Eisner smiled faintly.
"Independence—within limits acceptable to Disney."
"Of course," Katzenberg replied.
"Disney's brand cannot be compromised."
Eisner frowned slightly.
"Is there any chance Disney could acquire Dawnlight instead? Even at a higher cost."
Katzenberg shook his head and sighed.
"Aaron Anderson rejected us back then—how much more so now?"
Even Miramax demanded autonomy after acquisition. With Dawnlight's current performance, what price could possibly tempt him?
Eisner nodded. He had already tested the waters, offering Aaron full control of Disney's film division—but Aaron had shown no interest whatsoever. Watching Dawnlight rise higher and higher under Aaron's leadership made everyone envious.
In truth, Eisner's desire to bring Aaron into Disney had another motive:
to replace Jeffrey Katzenberg.
A young, powerful outsider like Aaron—free of Disney's internal alliances—would pose no threat to Eisner himself.
"Very well," Eisner said calmly.
"Aladdin is a tremendous success. You've earned the applause—go enjoy it."
He patted Katzenberg on the shoulder.
Soon after, Eisner found Frank Wells, Disney's president.
"How are Jeffrey's contract renewal talks going?" Eisner asked.
Frank Wells sighed.
"Not well. He wants a clause stating that once I retire, he becomes CEO."
Eisner remained outwardly calm—but inside, his determination to remove Katzenberg only hardened.
"My old friend Michael Ovitz at CAA told me that Joe Roth, head of Twentieth Century Fox's film division, is considering leaving to form his own production company," Eisner said.
"Talk to him. Bring him in to run Disney's live-action film division."
This was Eisner's contingency plan. If Aaron Anderson was unattainable, then Joe Roth would serve as the alternative.
"With my backing," Eisner added,
"Joe Roth could replace Katzenberg."
"I understand," Frank Wells replied quietly.
Inside, he shook his head. Had things really come to this?
Katzenberg's animation division was thriving. The board wanted him renewed. Eisner's conflict with him had become irreconcilable, yet Wells was still trying to balance the situation using his own position as leverage.
Replacing Katzenberg with Joe Roth would not be easy—
even with support from Disney family veteran Roy Disney.
In Hollywood, results spoke louder than politics—and Katzenberg's record was nearly flawless.
"Katzenberg is capable," Eisner said flatly,
"but Disney cannot afford multiple voices at the top."
With the board behind him, Eisner did not fear Katzenberg's ambition.
But public defiance—disrespect—was unforgivable.
At Disney, there could only be one king.