It was mid-March of 1975, and Duke walked through into a space that felt distinctly different from the rest of the bustling Paramount Lot.
The long hallways were lined with corkboards pinned full of colorful character designs and sequential storyboards.
Duke recognized some drawings of Blue Bettle and Superman hanging form the wall.
Down the main corridor, rooms housed rows upon rows of tilted wooden tables.
The sound of pencils scratching against paper filling the air.
Duke loved coming to the Paramount Animation wing cause of the atmosphere.
Walking beside Duke was Jeffrey Katzenberg, a young man still in his early twenties who had recently taken over the daily management of the project.
Jeffrey carried a thick clipboard, checking off items as he guided the studio head through the maze.
"We have sixty animators working full-time on the floor now, Duke," Jeffrey reported, "Plus, we have another forty cycling in and out between freelance projects and background painting. Milt has been driving everyone very hard."
Duke nodded, slowing his pace to check over the shoulder of a junior animator who was shading a sequence, before nodding before the guy even realized.
They continued down the aisle until they reached the office at the very end of the hall that belonged to Milt Kahl.
One of the legendary "Nine Old Men" who had helped built the foundation of American animation in Disney.
Now in his late sixties, the man sat behind a wooden desk buried under conceptual skettches.
Milt was a living legend, a man who had worked in Pinocchio, Peter Pan, and the book of the jungle.
Hearing the door open, Kahl paused his sketching and looked up, and smiled.
"Hauser, you came all the way down here just to check on the old man?"
Duke stepped into the office, taking a seat in a worn leather chair that looked very different than the one normally used in Paramount offices opposite the desk.
He smiled, "I came to check the movie, Milt, the one you promised me would do for the 1970s exactly what Snow White did for the 1930s."
The older man gave a nod.
Without another word, Milt reached out with steady fingers and slowly turned some of his sketchbook around so Duke could see.
The drawings were simply breathtaking.
Belle in an iconic yellow gown, not the one from the future that looked like layered american cheese, toned down colors, and basically looked cheaply made to the point that even Emma Watson looked like a low budget no effort Cosplayer with it.
The tone was more gold than yellow. Not minimalist, but also not maximalist,
It featured an off-the-shoulder sweetheart bodice adorned with gold embroidery and beads at the neckline, paired with draped fabric bands on the upper arms and opera-length gloves.
The skirt was constructed with extensive ruching and pick-ups that created deep, voluminous folds.
(Image for reference)
They looked at a long of storyboards for a while under the guidance of Kahl.
"It has been four long years, Duke," Kahl said, his voice dropping into a softer tone. "Four years of storyboards, character design, and pre-production. We have a 100 animators on this picture right now."
"That is not the 35 guys Disney scraped together to push out Robin Hood. This is the real deal. The budget had to go up to 7 million dollars to keep up with my vision."
"We committed to a 5 year plan production in 1971," Duke said, offering a reassuring nod. "The budget is exactly what it needs to be to achieve success. We are aiming for a theatrical release in 1976, right in the heart of the Bicentennial celebrations. The country has been through a rough patch. I want to give the audience something beautiful."
Milt set his pencil down on the desk, folding his hands together. "I hope you remember that I won't be doing another feature film after this one, Duke, my hands are just not what they used to be, and I want to go out on a high note. Leave the field before the field leaves me."
The room grew quiet for a moment, Duke understood the physical toll the industry demanded.
To draw thousands of frames by hand, year after year, required a stamina that eventually faded.
Duke offered a respectful nod. "You have earned your rest, Kahl, but your legacy will be embedded in every single frame of this film. And more importantly, your legacy will live on in every young animator out there on that floor whom you have trained."
It was the truth. Milt's grandest accomplishment was not just drawing a beautiful movie, it was building Duke and Paramount a fully functional, ready-made animation division capable of producing feature films for the future to come.
Satisfied with the progress, Duke finally stood up, shaking the older man's hand before stepping back out into the hallway.
As they left the glass-walled office behind, Katzenberg smoothly pulled Duke aside, steering him toward a quieter alcove near the storyboard archives.
"The senior story team has been enthusiastically pitching fresh ideas for the next production slate," Katzenberg said.
"We have a dozen concepts in various stages of visual development. Kahl's departure is going to leave a hole in our leadership, obviously, but we have young talent ready to step up and take the reins."
"We need to decide what goes into the pipeline next so the artists have a seamless transition when Beauty and the Beast wraps." Katzenberg opened a manila folder, offering Duke a stack of preliminary concept art accompanied by one-sentence pitches.
Duke took the folder, flipping slowly through the colorful pages.
The first entry made him pause.
It was a pitch for a high-budget animated adaptation of The Lord of the Rings.
Duke stared at a beautiful watercolor rendering of the Fellowship traversing a snowy mountain pass, that he though 'This would look great in my house.'
He had already purchased the comprehensive rights from the Tolkien estate years ago, securing the rights for television, film, animation, video games, and merchandise.
As he looked at the painting, Duke instinctively made the sign of the cross over his chest, taking a brief moment to remember J.R.R. Tolkien, who had passed away in 1973.
Duke had not attended the funeral in England, held back by studio obligations, but he silently resolved that he should visit the author's grave in Oxford at some point to pay his proper respects.
The fantasy epic was a goldmine, but he didn't know if an animated version could acommodate the vision Duke held in his mind. Maybe once Akira(1988) is made and improves technology.
He continued flipping through the remaining pitches, his eyes scanning familiar tales.
There was a underwater sketch for Hans Christian Andersen's The Little Mermaid.
Next came a vine-covered tower for Rapunzel, followed by a dark, spooky forest setting for Hansel and Gretel.
A action design for The Three Musketeers by Dumas caught his eye, along with a comedic rendering of The Emperor's New Clothes.
The final two pages held colorful concepts for Goldilocks and the Three Bears, and a moody take on the Arthurian legend of The Green Knight.
(these are all real stories)
The volume of potential stories sitting in his hands was huge. Paramount's animation wing was armed with enough raw story material to dominate the box office until the end of the century.
He closed the folder, handing it back to the eager young executive.
"Hold off on Middle-earth for now," Duke instructed, "Release Beauty and the Beast in 1976. Let that picture establish our reputation as an animation house, I will be thinking about the next story first."
He tapped a finger against the closed folder in Jeffrey's hands. "But that underwater concept has legs. Let the artists start playing with water physics and character designs."
Katzenberg grinned, scribbling notes onto his clipboard. "Understood, Duke. I will get the story team drafting an outline for The Little Mermaid."
Duke gave an approving nod, turning away from the colorful drawings to head back toward his own office.
He sat behind his desk, as he prepared for a crucial meeting.
Sitting directly across from him was Robert Shaye, the ambitious founder of New Line Cinema.
Shaye was in his mid-thirties, wearing a neat suit and thick glasses.
Unlike most of the executives Duke had meet, Shaye had never gotten a leg up, he was a guy who had scrapped and fought for every inch of screen time his independent company had ever secured.
Shaye had built his reputation distributing strange, foreign art films and low-budget shockers, learning the rough mechanics of the business from bottom up.
Duke offered a relaxed smile, folding his hands comfortably.
"Barry Diller speaks very highly of you, Robert," Duke began, "And I have followed New Line's trajectory over the last few years. You know the midnight movie circuit better than most in this town, how to get kids into theater seats at midnight on a Friday."
Shaye nodded, his expression respectful. "I built New Line from scratch, distributing foreign films and cheap horror that the major studios would not touch. But I have been watching what you have been doing here at Paramount, Mr. Hauser."
"Bringing in The Exorcist, The Texas Chain Saw Massacre, you are clearly not afraid of the genre. Most traditional studio heads treat horror like the ugly, redheaded stepchild of the industry. Take the money, but hide the posters."
Duke chuckled, appreciating the man's honesty. "A well-made horror movie provides the highest return on investment of any genre in cinema. So tell me about you?"
"I love horror, and well I have read your books, Mr. Hauser. Specially Jaws, I bought a copy when it was first published, and I have been recommending it to everyone who walks into my office ever since."
A smile spread across Duke's face. It was always gratifying to meet someone who truly appreciated the craft.
"Thank you," Duke said, pleased by the praise. "And what did you think of the other works? Cujo and Christine?"
In this specific timeline, Duke had also taken those specific novels, pulling the concepts from his memories of Stephen King's future stories.
"Cujo is amazing." Shaye said, his voice rising with genuine excitement. "A mother and her young child trapped in a broken-down car by a rabid dog under the blazing sun? And Christine? A haunted muscle car that corrupts its owner? That concept is great for an enduring American classic."
Duke shook his head dismissively smiling. He wondered if he, much like Kakashi too had a Glaze-on-sight order.
"Diller probably already told you why you are here," Duke said, steering the conversation toward the ultimate goal. "I am building a dedicated label under the Paramount umbrella. We are calling it Studio 13, I need a capable man to run it."
Duke reached across his desk and slid a folder toward the younger man. "These are the first 3 projects we already have deep in pre-production. I want you to take this folder home and read them."
Shaye eagerly opened the folder, his eyes scanning the title pages of the screenplays. The lineup was formidable, Carrie, The Omen, and Alice, Sweet Alice.
"You are definitely not messing around with this," Shaye murmured, tracing a finger over the title page of Carrie. "This one alone has great commercial prospects. I actually tried to buy the rights for New Line, but De Palma beat me to the punch."
"We are going to launch the new label with a triple feature," Duke explained, his vision clear. "But I cannot micromanage this division. I need someone with their ear to the ground, someone who can identify the next Texas Chain Saw Massacre months before anyone else in Hollywood has even heard of it."
Shaye remained silent for a moment, he slowly closed the folder, resting his hand on top of it. "You want me to run Studio 13," Shaye said, phrasing it as a statement rather than a question. "But I have New Line to think about. That is my company."
Duke waved a hand, dismissing the logistical hurdle with ease. "New Line can be folded directly into Paramount as a subsidiary, or you can make it go under to save taxes, I truly couldn't care less."
Shaye looked at Duke, weighing the opportunity against his independence. The chance to make movies with Paramount's checkbook was simply too good to pass up.
Shaye extended his hand. "I will galdly take the job."
Duke clasped Shaye's hand, cementing the partnership with a shake.
Leaning back, Duke quickly outlined the specific operational terms. "You will run Studio 13 as a semi-autonomous division, you have unilateral greenlight authority for any project budgeted up to 2 million dollars. Anything over that comes to my desk."
"You report directly to me, and no one else. Your first official task is to read those three scripts tonight and start scouting the country for the future slate."
Shaye nodded, his mind already racing with possibilities. He asked the most vital question for an independent distributor. "What about the distribution pipeline?"
Duke smiled. "Standard Paramount distribution. We will go wide release for the commercial bets, and we will use a targeted platform release strategy for the house pictures."
Shaye nodded, "I already have a few interesting ideas, but we will talk later then."
By early April, Duke stepped out of the car, his eyes drawn to the front porch where Margaux stood.
She was comfortably bundled in a cream-colored knitted sweater, shielding herself against the mountain chill.
In her arms, held against her chest, was Bradley.
He walked quickly up the wooden steps, unable to take his eyes off his son.
Bradley was now three months old, a solid 15 pounds of healthy life.
The infant had grown remarkably, his tiny features filling out, his cheeks round and pink in the cold air. His bright eyes wide and alert.
He had come to visit a lot, every two weeks would make sure to come visit for a couple of days.
Margaux smiled, and gently stepped forward to hand the baby over.
Duke reached out, his large hands carefully supporting the infant's head and back as he gathered his son against his chest.
"He has gotten so much bigger," Duke said. It seemed impossible that the fragile newborn he had left 2 weeks ago was already growing so fast, transforming into a sturdy little boy right before his eyes.
"He is eating like a champion," Margaux replied with a soft laugh, stepping closer to wrap her arm affectionately around Duke's waist.
She leaned her head against his shoulder, looking down at their son. "And the most amazing thing happened while you were gone. He recognizes your voice now. Whenever you call us on the telephone, and I hold the receiver near him, he stops what he's doing and turns his head toward the phone."
___
Next chapter Bradley focused and beggining Jaws advertisement campaing
Lord of the Ring
The Little Mermaid
Rapunzel
Hansel and Gretel
The Three Musketeers
The Emperor's New Clothes
Goldilocks and the Three Bears
The Green Knight
These are the stories mentioned on the Animation Division and they are all real. Mention here what other story could be done