Chapter 187: Fair-Skinned and Sensual
With the arrival of 1993, Aaron returned to Los Angeles and immediately plunged into the new year's work.
Burbank — Dawnlight Pictures, Office
"Schindler's List has received almost universal praise,"
Evelyn Beckett said as she handed Aaron a stack of survey reports.
"Television networks, newspapers, and magazines are all singing its praises."
Aaron skimmed through them and smiled casually.
"Looks like the awards are basically secured."
Only now did he truly appreciate the influence of the Jewish community within the media. Dawnlight Pictures had barely spent anything on promotion for Schindler's List—just a limited theatrical release. Yet the word-of-mouth had spread like wildfire.
"After the Golden Globes," Aaron said, rubbing his temples,
"we'll roll out a wide release next month."
"Schindler's List, Scent of a Woman, and The Crying Game—all three need heavier marketing pushes."
Film promotion, new project development, and the upcoming launch of a television production division—Dawnlight had no shortage of work ahead.
"Understood," Evelyn replied.
---
That evening, at a party hosted at the Sunset Marquis Hotel in West Hollywood, Aaron ran into Steven Spielberg and Jeffrey Katzenberg.
With Schindler's List earning overwhelming acclaim, Spielberg—himself Jewish—was in notably high spirits.
"The response has been incredible," Aaron said, clinking glasses with him.
"The film really moved people."
The box office numbers were climbing steadily as well. No doubt executives at MCA Universal—Sidney Sheinberg and Lew Wasserman included—were quietly regretting letting the project slip away.
"Thank you for backing it," Spielberg said sincerely.
"Without Dawnlight's support, who knows when this film would've ever seen the light of day?"
Schindler's List had struggled to secure funding for years. Spielberg never forgot who finally made it possible.
Aaron then turned to Katzenberg.
"Aladdin is phenomenal," Aaron said.
"Over $100 million domestically and another $120 million overseas already. Truly impressive."
Katzenberg's leadership in animation was undeniable—though his relationship with Disney CEO Michael Eisner was becoming increasingly strained, especially with contract renewal talks stalling.
"Animation features," Katzenberg said thoughtfully,
"your Pixar seems to be developing its first full-length 3D animated film as well?"
Pixar's technology had caught his eye long ago. Though no partnership had formed, Katzenberg had continued watching closely—after all, Pixar was now under Aaron Anderson's control.
"Yes," Aaron nodded.
"We've just begun production."
Katzenberg smiled.
"I didn't expect you to move into animation this quickly."
Aaron's success in live-action filmmaking was already proven. His move into animation was not something to underestimate.
"See you around, Aaron," Katzenberg said, draining his wine and walking off.
Watching him leave, Aaron reflected silently. Disney was far from stable internally, and Katzenberg stood squarely at the center of the storm. His close association with Spielberg during this period made one thing clear—DreamWorks was no accident waiting to happen.
---
Soon after, Nicole Kidman arrived at the party and made her way straight to Aaron.
"You look incredibly good tonight," Aaron said, pulling her into a warm embrace.
"There are a lot of reporters outside," Nicole whispered, kissing his cheek.
"Should we leave early?"
"Let's go," Aaron agreed.
The two slipped out of the hotel together and climbed into a brand-new Mitsubishi EVO, cruising down Sunset Boulevard toward Santa Monica.
The radio broadcast carried news of the 1992 NFL season Super Bowl:
Later this month, the AFC champion Buffalo Bills would face the NFC champion Dallas Cowboys—
with the game set to take place at the Rose Bowl Stadium in Pasadena, Los Angeles.
Nicole glanced over and raised an eyebrow.
"Hmm… the halftime performer is Michael Jackson?"
Aaron listened to the radio, one hand resting casually on Nicole Kidman's thigh in the passenger seat.
Michael Jackson was set to perform at this year's Super Bowl halftime show.
"What's the big deal?" Nicole asked. "The Super Bowl happens every year, doesn't it?"
Aaron shook his head. "This one's different. That's Michael Jackson."
Before the 1990s, Super Bowl halftime shows rarely featured major stars. Most performances were handled by marching bands or entertainment troupes, drawing limited attention.
Even after the organizers began inviting celebrities in the early '90s, the lineups usually consisted of multiple performers—few of them true household names.
But Michael Jackson was something else entirely.
A cultural phenomenon. A global icon. A trump card.
Aaron already had a plan forming in his mind.
Speed and The Mask of Zorro—both summer tentpoles—were perfect candidates for Super Bowl halftime advertising.
After returning to his hillside villa in Pacific Palisades, Santa Monica, Aaron immediately called Evelyn Beckett, bringing up the idea of running movie ads during the Super Bowl broadcast later that month.
"Super Bowl halftime ads are going for around $700,000 to $800,000 for 30 seconds right now," Evelyn reported.
"That's fine," Aaron replied without hesitation.
"Speed and The Mask of Zorro are our summer blockbusters. The marketing has to be aggressive."
---
Meanwhile, just days into 1993, a major scandal erupted within Panasonic Corporation in Japan.
As a result, President Akio Tanii and Executive Vice President & CFO Masahiko Hirata were both forced to resign.
Panasonic's board swiftly appointed Yoichi Morishita as the new head of the company.
This leadership shake-up sent shockwaves across the Pacific—particularly at MCA in the United States.
Tanii and Hirata had been the primary architects behind Panasonic's acquisition of MCA. With both men abruptly gone, MCA executives Lew Wasserman and Sidney Sheinberg were left stunned.
Their concern was justified.
Wasserman and Sheinberg had been hoping to persuade Panasonic to continue pouring capital into MCA—specifically to expand its cable television operations.
---
Los Angeles — Universal City, MCA Chairman's Office
Lew Wasserman sat back on the sofa, drawing slowly on a cigar.
"Tanii's departure is a done deal," he said calmly.
"Our next move should be figuring out how to approach the new leadership."
Sidney Sheinberg sighed.
"I've already looked into it. Morishita comes from a hardware background. He doesn't seem to know much about Hollywood—he's never even been to Los Angeles. From what I hear, he has little interest in American music companies either."
Wasserman nodded thoughtfully.
"Then we'll have to make the effort ourselves."
He stubbed out the cigar.
"Let's find time to go to Japan."