Starting a business in Hollywood is a whole different game compared to Silicon Valley.
The biggest difference boils down to this: in Silicon Valley, if you've got the tech and the ideas, investment firms will practically knock down your door to help you out—funding comes easy. But in Hollywood? Even if you've got a killer concept and a top-notch team, getting a shot at making a movie is like pulling teeth.
Hollywood studios rely on outside cash to offset the risks of filmmaking. So, how could they possibly have spare change lying around to back a rookie company full of newbies?
And let's be real—connections are the real gold in Hollywood. Take a big shot like Spielberg: he can get Leonardo DiCaprio or Tom Hanks to join his films for peanuts. A newbie pulling that off? Good luck.
Of course, there's another way in: be the moneybags. Look at Lionsgate—its big boss came from Canada and cracked Hollywood wide open in just a few years. Why? Because he's a Canadian finance tycoon, a billionaire who's not afraid to throw cash around.
Movie studios or not, every company loves a partner who's loaded and a little naive.
But judging by Tosca Musk's vibe, she clearly didn't come from some ultra-rich dynasty.
"Tosca, no offense, but this isn't a great idea," Dunn said, shaking his head, not sold at all.
Tosca didn't look fazed. She just smiled. "I know it's tough, but startups always hit bumps, right? Didn't Dunn Films go through a nasty PR mess once too?"
Dunn frowned. "Tosca, I admire your guts and grit. But Hollywood isn't Silicon Valley. The rules here are totally different, and it's way rougher than you think. You don't know this place."
"That's exactly why I'm asking for your help," she replied, unfazed and cool as ever.
Dunn still wasn't buying it. "I'm happy to help, sure, but as a friend, I don't see this plan of yours working out."
Tosca grinned. "Just help me out—that's all I need. I want Dunn Films to put up the cash, and we'll start a movie company together. I'll run it, keep it independent."
The second she said that, Dunn Walker wasn't the only one stunned—Reese Witherspoon felt a surge of irritation too.
Dunn Films footing the bill for a joint company?
Are you out of your mind?
What makes you think you're qualified to partner with Dunn Films? In Hollywood, the companies teaming up with Dunn are heavyweights like Universal, DreamWorks, Comcast, Warner Bros.!
And you want full control too? You're really bringing that Silicon Valley playbook to Hollywood, huh?
Ridiculous!
Dunn's temper flared, nearly boiling over. He'd welcomed her with good intentions, and here she was, asking for the moon.
But then he caught Tosca Musk's calm, breezy demeanor, and something clicked.
Wait a sec—something's off.
Tosca Musk might only be 26, but she'd gone to Columbia University at 16, snagged dual undergrad degrees, and then nabbed a master's in media studies. She's a certified brainiac.
Did she really not know how outrageous her ask was? Staying this chill about it—there's gotta be more to this.
"So… what's the basis for this partnership?" Dunn asked, locking eyes with her.
Everyone knows Dunn's loaded these days. He's got clout, resources, and connections in Hollywood—pretty much everything.
What could a Silicon Valley outsider like her possibly bring to Dunn Films?
Tosca didn't rush to answer. Instead, she smiled and said, "Honestly, my first thought was to come to Hollywood solo, maybe throw some money at low-budget indie films—just to chase the dream. But my brother gave me some advice I thought was spot-on. Oh, and by the way, my brother's not just my brother—he's my biggest investor, so his input matters a lot."
Dunn nodded. Sounded like her brother had done pretty well for himself in Silicon Valley—enough to have spare cash to toss into Hollywood movies. Maybe a little too dreamy for his own good, though.
Reese wasn't thrilled. She couldn't believe the person she'd vouched for was this flaky. Her tone turned icy. "Mind sharing what that advice was?"
Tosca grinned. "My brother said he's got alumni connections that could hook me up with Dunn Films. If I could team up with the legendary Director Walker, breaking into Hollywood would be a whole lot smoother."
"Dunn Films has its own vision and strategy," Dunn cut in, laying it bare. "We don't just jump into partnerships on a whim." He was pushing her to show her real hand.
A flicker of confidence crossed Tosca's face—eerily similar to Dunn's own. "From what I hear, Dunn's movie business still has some pretty obvious gaps."
Reese frowned. "Dunn Films has only been around a few years. Building a full distribution arm takes time—years, even."
Tosca waved it off. "I'm not talking about distribution."
Dunn studied her, sensing this sharp, pretty woman wasn't someone to underestimate.
Recalling Natalie's warnings and Bill Gates' past slip-ups, Dunn made up his mind: whether they worked together or not, he'd keep his personal life miles away from her.
"I hear… Dunn Films has been sniffing around about buying DreamWorks' animation division?" Tosca said, flashing a charming smile.
Dunn's pulse quickened.
Word of Dunn Films eyeing DreamWorks Animation wouldn't stay secret from Hollywood insiders. And Jeffrey Katzenberg, eager to boost his animation unit's value, might've "accidentally" let a hint or two slip.
But that kind of talk rarely leaves Hollywood.
Every industry guards its secrets to protect the bigger picture—that's just how it works.
Dunn chuckled. "Looks like your brother's got more than just Reese as an alumni buddy. He's got some serious Hollywood pals too, huh?"
Tosca didn't dodge it. She smiled lightly. "Yup. For my sake, my brother met with Mr. Cameron and chatted for half an hour."
"James Cameron?" Reese blinked, caught off guard. That was a curveball.
If this woman had a line to Cameron, she could've gone straight through him to Dunn. Why take the long way around through Reese, a Stanford alum she'd never even met?
Dunn pieced it together in a flash.
It started with Tosca wanting to break into Hollywood. Her brother claimed he had connections here and reached out to none other than James Cameron.
Cameron's currently itching to team up with Dunn Films for his next big project. With his tight ties to Dunn and Bill Mechanic, Dunn Films is his go-to pick.
But Cameron's a pro at reading the room. He wasn't sure if Dunn would bite on working with Tosca. If he played middleman and Dunn said yes just to save face, Cameron would owe Dunn a favor—and he didn't want that.
So Cameron passed on being the bridge. Tosca's brother, stuck, went the long route through the alumni network to Reese Witherspoon, hoping to get to Dunn Films that way.
"So, from the sound of it… you're angling to team up with Dunn Films on animated movies?" Dunn asked, already seeing through her.
Tosca didn't deny it. "I've never made a movie, sure, but I know this much: animated films are riskier than live-action ones. Back when Jobs founded Pixar, he pumped over $10 million a year into it for nine years—betting a quarter of his fortune on it."
"And when Pixar went public, Jobs' net worth shot past a billion, giving him the guts to return to Apple, right?" Dunn said with a grin.
Tosca smiled back. "Same deal with Blue Sky Studios. But here's the thing: Pixar and Blue Sky both started as computer effects companies."
"What's your point?"
"In Hollywood, Dunn Films has all the resources and advantages—that's your strength. But I've got my own edge: Silicon Valley's right behind me," Tosca said, sitting up straighter, brimming with confidence.
Dunn laughed. "Tosca, you're talking a big game!"
"Didn't you talk just as big with this movie?" she shot back, not backing down an inch. "Dunn, you handle the channels and resources, I'll bring the tech and creativity. I'm sure we can make this work!"
Dunn shook his head firmly.
In his eyes, when it came to animated films, only three people in the world could pull it off: Jeffrey Katzenberg, John Lasseter, and Chris Meledandri. Even a legend like Miyazaki was stuck making niche hits on his tiny island, nowhere near global blockbusters.
Seeing Dunn unmoved, Tosca pressed on. "My undergrad was in computer science—I can code, I get tech. Plus, I worked in Silicon Valley for three years and know tons of ace engineers. With the dot-com crash hitting them hard, we could scoop them up cheap."
Dunn sighed and shook his head. "Sorry, Tosca. Animation's a beast—tech's just one piece. You need creativity, aesthetics, the whole package. Truth is, I don't have the confidence to start an animation studio right now."
Tosca's face grew serious. "My brother always tells me something that really sticks: 'If the path feels tough, it means you're climbing uphill.' Dunn, don't you think things have been too smooth for you lately? That's a downhill slide waiting to happen!"
Dunn burst out laughing. "Tosca, you're a negotiation wizard! That line from your brother? Gold. I'd love to meet him someday. Speaking of—mind telling me his name?"
Tosca exhaled, smiling warmly. "Sure thing. I've got two brothers, but I'm talking about my big brother, Elon Musk."
Dunn's expression shifted instantly, and he sat up straight.