In the 1990s, major film studios perfected the industrialized formula for blockbuster commercial hits, while independent filmmakers carved out new paths to reach mainstream audiences.
Tim Burton's stylistically distinct 1989 film Batman was more than just the progenitor of superhero movies for decades to come. Terry Semel, then president of Warner Bros. Pictures, noted that the film marked the first time the company successfully executed a full industrial-chain commercial operation, rolling out comprehensive cross-promotional marketing, licensed merchandise, themed T-shirts, and other derivative businesses.
Thomas Schatz's book The Power Wave: Hollywood Under the Control of Giants and the Last Glory of the Studio System opens with Burton's ambitious film, sketching a contradictory era for the film industry: capital chased profits while professing a commitment to art, or at least to crafting stories with care.
The Backdrop of the Era: Mega-Mergers Reshape Hollywood
It was also a decade of relentless mega-mergers, where successive waves of acquisitions and consolidations in the entertainment and media sector fundamentally rewrote Hollywood's industrial landscape. Major studios gradually honed the operational logic of franchise filmmaking, while the independent film industry flourished concurrently. Schatz posits this period as Hollywood's final golden age. Whether readers agree with this assessment, The Power Wave paints a detailed, weighty narrative of industry executives and filmmakers: some basked in the spotlight, others fell from grace. The book chronicles countless grand industrial visions, most of which ultimately went unrealized.
Schatz does not cite the film industry's oft-repeated William Goldman adage—"Nobody knows anything"—but the phrase could well serve as the book's overarching theme.
Schatz argues the roots of this industry transformation lie in an unprecedented wave of corporate contraction within the news and entertainment sectors.
In 1983, 50 corporations controlled the majority of U.S. mainstream media. After multiple merger waves, that number shrank to 23 by 1990, and just six years later, only 10 media giants remained.
What drove this change?
Schatz traces the initial catalyst to deregulation of media companies under the Reagan and George H.W. Bush administrations. The mid-90s economic recovery and the repeal of cross-ownership bans further accelerated consolidation, as studios and their parent companies snapped up television networks and cable platforms.
Amid this fierce corporate capital competition, studio executives desperately sought flagship blockbusters to dominate the annual release calendar and spawn IP franchises, while top-tier creators continually pushed the boundaries of cinematic expression.
A prime example in the book of this dual flourishing of capital maneuvering and artistic creation is the Disney animation renaissance of the 1990s under Michael Eisner and Jeffrey Katzenberg, which produced classics like Beauty and the Beast and The Lion King. However, this prosperity was marred by battles over corporate control and creative credit, leading to Katzenberg's ouster. Later, top Hollywood agent Michael Ovitz finally took the helm at Disney, only to be dismissed after little more than a year.
Schatz also meticulously portrays the era's auteurs who commanded big budgets. James Cameron is one such figure; with the successive triumphs of Terminator 2 and Titanic, his ambition, talent, and box-office draw grew exponentially over the decade.
Veteran masters also enjoyed a commercial resurgence: Martin Scorsese delivered Goodfellas, Francis Ford Coppola offered Bram Stoker's Dracula; and in 1993, Steven Spielberg released two landmark films in one year—Jurassic Park and Schindler's List.
The 1990s independent film scene also achieved a dual breakthrough in commerce and art. Arthouse successes like Steven Soderbergh's sex, lies, and videotape brought low-budget niche films to a massive mainstream audience. The entry of the Sundance Film Festival, Miramax, New Line Cinema, and other distributors infused the indie scene with capital and marketing resources.
Beyond theatrical blockbusters, crossover arthouse hits like Pulp Fiction and Boogie Nights emerged. New creators like Quentin Tarantino and the Coen brothers injected fresh vitality into the film industry.
The secondary markets of VHS and DVD generated sustained revenue, making it a period where almost the entire industry profited. Schatz writes, "As the industry's spoils grew, studios became more reliant on the flagship blockbuster strategy, and the independent film wave fully permeated the mainstream market."
The rise of the internet sparked hopes for new revenue streams. The disastrous AOL-Time Warner merger in 2000 and Vivendi's acquisition of Universal that same year saw entertainment giants betting heavily on the broadband revolution, though its adoption progressed far slower than anticipated.
By the late 1990s, the once-unassailable Disney faced two formidable animation rivals: Pixar and DreamWorks.
In the early 2000s, the defensive value of owned IP became fully apparent: Warner Bros. achieved unprecedented success with its Harry Potter and The Lord of the Rings franchises. Former Warner president Alan Horn laid bare the essence: "Our job is to make money for shareholders"—a statement that clarifies the industry's true masters.
Book Analysis: Solid Research, But a Diffuse Narrative
The Power Wave is a well-researched, comprehensive work that relies heavily on previous first-hand industry reporting. Author Schatz is fully qualified for the subject, being a professor emeritus of communication at the University of Texas at Austin and the author of the 1988 classic The Genius of the Studio System, a seminal study of 1930s Hollywood.
However, compared to his earlier, more clearly structured work, the film industry landscape of the 1990s and 2000s depicted here is complex and chaotic. While meticulously researched, the book struggles to perfectly organize its narrative logic. The volume of information is immense, making it difficult to extract a unified through-line or core theme, and it lacks a central figure to guide the reader through the maze.
If the book has a positive protagonist, it is Bob Shaye. He founded New Line Cinema, and after its 1994 acquisition by Turner Broadcasting (which later merged into Time Warner), he retained operational autonomy. Leveraging Warner's resources, Shaye produced the commercially and critically successful The Lord of the Rings trilogy.
The book's negative exemplar is Eisner: while he rescued a faltering Disney in the early '90s, his autocratic, micromanaging style eroded goodwill, ultimately leading to a campaign for his removal spearheaded by Roy E. Disney, nephew of Walt Disney.
Overall, The Power Wave is a readable popular industry history, though its narrative could be more focused and its prose more vibrant.
The author concludes by noting that today the entire entertainment industry has become subservient to streaming services and superhero franchises, but this is not the end of the story. Paramount's proposed $110 billion acquisition of Warner Bros. Discovery would shrink the media giants to five, creating a near-monopolistic structure. Yet, in a twist of irony, the box office for a new installment of a top-tier IP (a new Star Wars film) is now rivaled by two zero-budget horror films—Skinamarink and The Backrooms—independently shot by twenty-something YouTube creators. In 1993, Jurassic Park made dinosaurs a global phenomenon. Today, the commercial blockbuster itself is facing decline.
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