Inside his office, Duke took a sip of black coffee, savoring the calm of the early hour.
The room around him a testament to his strange, successful journey in the film industry. 'Should I expand the Paramount Lot and create a museum to improve the Studio Lot tour?'
The Studio Lot Tour had been a success inside Paramount, but Duke had been considering whether to expand the lot here in the future or to go to another state which he knew was the future trend.
Framed posters of Paramount films filled the hallways in the executive building already and Duke had been collecting a lot of props, which everyone didn't want to keep.
He had dresses, slipers, chainsaws, the necklace of The Last House On The Left, even a Mechanical Regan dummy from The Exorcist.
He was checking the props out, when the door to his office swung open without a knock.
Robert Evans strolled into the room, and paced across the carpet, talking a mile a minute while he waved his hands in the air, and Duke ignored him.
He had clearly been enjoying the Los Angeles nightlife well past dawn, he sniffed loudly, rubbing his nose.
He checked his gold wristwatch, then glanced at the door. "He should be right outside. Remember, the kid is rough around the edges, but he has real passion."
Right on cue, a soft knock echoed from the door.
Duke called out, inviting the guest inside.
The door slowly opened, and Sylvester Stallone stepped into the expansive office.
He looked exactly as Evans had described him. Late twenties, possessing a muscular build that suggested long hours in a gym, Duke also noticed how short he was, around 5'8-5'10, very similar to James Caan.
Stallone had a rugged face that looked as though it had absorbed a few punches over the years.
He wore a faded leather jacket over a simple t-shirt, paired with dark jeans and boots.
He looked out of place among the luxurious studio decor, and his eyes darted around the room with a wary expression.
He clutched a thick stack of paper against his ribs.
"Mr. Hauser," Stallone said, his voice carrying that distinctive drawl. "Thank you for taking the time to see me."
Duke stood up, giving him a solid handshake with an easy smile. He had been a fan of Stallone in his past life.
"Please, call me Duke," he replied warmly, gesturing toward one of the guest chairs. "Take a seat. Robert here tells me you have written something special."
Stallone sat down on the edge of the cushion, keeping his spine straight and placed the script on the desk.
Evans hovered near the window, "Tell him the story, Sly," Evans urged, adjusting his sunglasses.
Stallone nodded, his tough exterior softening a little.
"It started 2 weeks ago," Stallone began, his eyes locking onto Duke. "I was watching the Muhammad Ali and Chuck Wepner fight. Everyone thought Wepner was just going to be a punching bag for Ali."
"But then, in the ninth round, Wepner knocked the champ down." A small smile touched Stallone's lips.
"Wepner didn't win the fight," Stallone continued, "Ali got up and finished him. But for that one moment, Wepner proved he belonged in the ring. He went the distance with the greatest fighter in the world. I saw that, and I went home, locked the door, and wrote for three straight days."
Stallone tapped the manuscript on the desk. "That is Rocky. It's about a club fighter from Philadelphia. A guy who collects debts just to buy food. He is a nobody. But then, the heavyweight champion needs a gimmick for a Bicentennial fight, and he picks a local underdog."
"I wrote it for me, Duke," Stallone said, "I see myself in Rocky. A guy who gets one impossible shot at the title and decides to take it. I will not sell the script unless I am playing the lead. That is the deal."
Duke studied the man sitting across from him.
Duke knew from his past life that Stallone was right to hold his ground. The film was destined to become an American classic.
Stallone's raw performance was the beating heart of the movie. It simply would not work with anyone else, even Stallone Birth deformities were great for Rocky characterization.
"That is a huge demand for an unproven actor," Duke said smoothly, playing the role of the skeptical boss. "What happens if we start rolling cameras and you find out you cannot carry the emotional weight of the role?"
Stallone's jaw tightened. "You won't." Stallone answered, his voice low and deadly serious. "I promise you, Duke, you won't have to. I know this guy cause I am this guy."
"I will make you a deal, Sylvester," Duke said, "You get the lead role, a salary and you will get a writing credit for the screenplay." Duke paused, making sure Stallone understood the offer.
Stallone stared at him, his mouth falling open slightly. "You are serious?" he asked, his voice cracking. "Just like that? You are giving me the picture?"
"I do not make jokes about movies," Duke replied. "Welcome to Paramount Pictures, Sylvester."
Evans rushed forward, clapping a hand onto Stallone's shoulder, shaking the young actor with his enthusiasm.
"I told you, kid!" Evans cheered, his sunglasses slipping down his nose. "I told you he would see the vision! Duke knows a winner when it walks through his door."
Stallone stood up, his legs looking a little unsteady, reached across the desk, and shook Duke's hand.
"Thank you, Duke," Stallone whispered, "I will give you everything I have. I swear it."
Duke nodded, patting the back of Stallone's hand. The meeting wrapped up quickly after that, with Evans giving Stallone money to buy back his dog.
The wooden door clicked shut yet Evans remained in the room, retreating to a corner and turned his back to the desk, subtly trying to fix his nose and manage his heart rate.
Duke watched him, shaking his head with a smile. Before Duke could tell him to go to his own office, the door opened again.
Barry Diller walked into the office, his face serious.
Diller was the operational mind of the studio, the man who worried about the ledgers while Evans focused on the creative vision and Duke well, he knew the future.
Right now, Diller looked concerned.
Diller closed the door behind him, making sure it latched securely. He glanced at the empty guest chair, then looked at Duke.
"Stallone seems passionate," Diller noted, "I saw him in the hallway. But a boxing film starring an unknown actor? That is a financial gamble, Duke, It goes against conventional studio logic."
Duke offered a casual shrug, picking up his coffee mug. The liquid had gone lukewarm, but he took a sip anyway.
"Everything we do in this town is a gamble, Barry," Duke answered easily. "That is the nature of the business. You roll the dice on the talent, and you hope the audience connects with the story."
Diller paused and looked over at the corner, watching Evans fidget near the potted palm.
Diller frowned, uncomfortable having a serious discussion with Evans in the room.
He turned his attention back to the desk. "Duke, can we talk?" Diller asked, "Privately?"
Duke caught the urgency in Diller's request.
He gave a small nod, looking over at the corner.
Evans caught the signal immediately, waved a dismissive hand in the air.
"Say no more," Evans announced cheerfully. "I will be over in my bungalow making magic happen. Call me when the corporate talk is over."
Evans walked toward the exit, still adjusting his nose, and slipped out into the hallway.
Diller walked forward, taking the seat Stallone had just vacated, rested his hands on his lap, taking a deep breath.
"Duke, I need to say something," Diller began, maintaining eye contact. "And I say this as a friend, as someone who has been in your corner since the beginning of this journey."
Duke raised an eyebrow, intrigued by the preamble. He set his coffee mug down and gave Diller his attention. "Go ahead, I'm listening."
"You have not been pulling your weight lately, Duke," Diller said, "I know you are the owner. But the studio operations... they have been running on sheer momentum since 1973. It has been almost two years since we released a true event film."
Duke's expression did not change, understanding the pressure Diller carried on his shoulders.
"The Godfather Part II was not an event?" he asked calmly. "It dominated the cultural conversation and swept the industry awards."
"It underperformed compared to the success of the first film," Diller countered, prepared for the argument. "Yes, it made money and secured nominations. But it did not cross the 100 million dollar mark at the domestic box office. The first one did, and well my expectations were set higher."
Duke leaned forward, feeling that he needed to correct the narrative.
"Let's look at the reality of 1974, Barry," Duke said, "The Longest Yard, Blazing Saddles, Young Frankenstein, Death Wish, The Texas Chain Saw Massacre, The Godfather Part II, and The Conversation."
Duke tapped his finger on the desk for emphasis. "That is 7 hits released in a single year. We dominated comedy, horror, and we still delivered on prestige drama."
Diller nodded slowly, conceding the factual accuracy of the list.
"They were solid hits," Diller agreed, his voice softening slightly. "But none of them were a cultural phenomenon like the first Godfather. None of them crossed that 100 million dollar threshold with the exception of Blazzing Sadles."
"The overall industry is in a downturn I know that. But the public's attention is drifting. We need better movies to anchor the studio, and we also need you back here, not dissapearing every 2 or 3 weeks."
Duke picked up a pen, rolling it between his fingers, he understood Diller's underlying anxiety.
A studio survived on base hits, but it thrived on home runs.
"You are right about the economic downturn," Duke agreed. "The whole industry is suffering right now. But you are wrong about me being absent. I have been working every day, just not in this specific office."
Diller took a breath, looking slightly relieved that Duke had not responded with anger.
"I am not trying to attack you, Duke," Diller said earnestly. "I am trying to get you to see the landscape the way I see it."
"We lost the number 1 box office spot last year to 'The Towering Inferno', a film from Warner Bros. I heard Steve Ross was walking around smiling because from 1971 to 1973 we held that spot, we need to reclaim that spot."
A smile returned to Duke's face, he opened a desk drawer and pulled out a document. "I am well aware of the competition, Barry. But 1975 is our year, look at the slate we have."
Duke slid the paper across the desk. "Jaws which everyone loves. Then we have Dog Day Afternoon. Three Days of the Condor. Nashville. The Stepford Wives. Mahogany. Hustle. Barry Lyndon. It is a great lineup."
Diller scanned the document, his eyes evaluating the commercial potential of each title.
"That is a strong slate," Diller admitted, tracing the list with his finger. "But truthfully, only Jaws feels like a event film. The rest are very solid mid-tier films. They will make money, sure, but we still need game-changers."
Before Duke could formulate a reply, the office door swung open once again.
Robert Evans reappeared, looking refreshed, his nose clear, he had been listening in the hallway, unable to keep away from a discussion about the studio's future.
"You are both forgetting something," Evans announced, plopping into the empty chair next to Diller. "You are forgetting the Ithaca Slate."
Duke raised a curious eyebrow, he had already forgotten about his first Label, his first Production company that he had formed while reading the Odissey.
During this time, Evans had been the person in charge, mostly focused on small B tier films, that at times would be a huge success, but less reliable than Paramount's slate.
Of course, Evans eye couldn't be understimated, 'Gator Bait', a B tier movie, that Evans hired his current girlfriend to be the female lead, had already made 12 million on a 150k budget and Gone in 60 Seconds had made over 40 million in a 150k budget too.
Evans grinned, "One Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest," Evans declared proudly. "I got our hands on it before Fantasy Films got involved back in 73'. This movie could be my second Chinatown, wait no, no, my third Godfather."
Evans did not stop there. "Monty Python and the Holy Grail that Duke already negotiated. The Rocky Horror Picture Show, I stole that weird film right out from Alan Ladd's hands. And Dolemite, a blaxploitation film."
Duke watched Evans with genuine respect.
The man was chaotic in his personal, professional, legal and spiritual life, but his instincts for finding profitable art were unmatched by even him, a man who knew the future. "You are a gifted madman, Robert."
Diller, ever the serious accountant, remained focused.
He mentally combined the lists, running through the 1975 slate aloud. "Jaws. Dog Day Afternoon. Three Days of the Condor. Nashville. The Stepford Wives. Mahogany. Hustle. Barry Lyndon. Plus Cuckoo's Nest, Monty Python, Rocky Horror, and Dolemite."
Diller paused, calculating the marketing budget in his head. "Great, lets hope those succed, now what about 1976?"
Movie production can span years, even decades at times, Paramount was a company that by relying on the New Hollywood Wave, they could avoid a lot of downtime, and just produce, but by this point in time.
April, 4, Paramount should already have their 1976 slate, the problem was, Diller had never seen it. He had tried asking for it, but nobody knew anything, and Duke wasn't even around.
Duke nodded, and said. "We already have a slate, and we also have the horror label too, Carrie, Alice, Sweet Alice, and The Omen."
"We also have Assault on Precinct 13 coming out of Studio 13. I am also overseeing development on Network, The Bad News Bears, The Outlaw Josey Wales, and Taxi Driver."
Diller looked surprised, his eyes widening slightly at the mention of these new titles.
"I did not know about these specific projects," Diller admitted, a hint of a smile creeping onto his face.
Duke offered a reassuring smile. "They are deep in development. I am involved in the scripts. Just because you do not see me sitting at this desk every single day does not mean I am not working for Paramount's future."
Evans leaned forward, tapping his knuckles against the edge of the desk.
"And now we have Rocky," Evans added.
Duke met Evans' gaze, a shared understanding passing between them.
Diller seemed somewhat placated by the list of projects, but his mind was not quite finished. He opened a folder he had carried in with him.
"Since we are already talking," Diller said, adjusting his posture, still intending to make Duke understand how his time off was afffecting things. "let's take a look at the 1974 Academy Awards."
Diller pulled a paper from the folder and began reading. "The Godfather Part II earned 11 nominations. Chinatown also secured 11 nominations. The Conversation walked away with 3 nominations, including Best Picture and Original Screenplay. Young Frankenstein earned 2, for Adapted Screenplay and Sound. Blazing Saddles earned 3."
Duke nodded, refusing to see those numbers as a failure. "That is not a bad year at all, Barry. We dominated the nominations across multiple genres."
Diller sighed, closing the folder and resting his hands on top of the cover.
"I agree the numbers are impressive," Diller countered. "But the general public does not remember the nominations."
Duke decided it was time to end the debate. "Barry, I appreciate your concern. I do. You are the best mind in Paramount, and I value your honesty."
"But here is the simple truth," Duke continued, "I built this iteration of the studio. Trust me. The pieces are all in place for a historic run."
___
--------1974 films
The Godfather Part II
Chinatown
TGhe Great Gasby
The Parallax View
Death Wish
Gone in 60 Seconds
Blazing Saddles
The texas Chainsaw Massacre
Young Frankenstein
--------1975 Releases
Dog Day afternoon
Jaws
Three Days of Condor
Nashville
The Stepford Wives
Mahogany
Hustle
Barry Lyndon
One Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest
Monty Python and the Holy Grail
The Rocky Horror Picture Show
Dolemite
My barber got deported