Michael Eisner ends 20 years as head of the Disney empire today. Many folks have expressed joy as his departure has drawn near. Others have expressed apprehension, uncertain what a future without Eisner at the helm holds.
I'm not writing this to talk about Eisner's impact on Disney's culture of "magic." That topic has been discussed ad infinitum. In my opinion, the concept of "magic" is too fluffy and fleeting to tie to one man. Pixie dust, if it exists, doesn't emerge from boardroom meetings or ride in the pockets of men wearing suits. Surely it has a different source, and surely its means of propagation are unaffected by balding tycoons.
I'm not writing this to discuss Eisner's impact on Mickey's bottom line. I'll leave that to smarter people, who enjoy playing with numbers. Frankly, I find the minutiae of business rather boring. However, despite my liberal arts education insisting that numbers can be massaged to say the sky is silver, everything I've seen indicates that the company's coffers did just fine for much of Eisner's time at the wheel.
This, then, is a chance to recall some of the memories I'll carry of Eisner, not from leaked company memos or secondhand relation of corporate infighting, but from direct observation.
Once I became old enough to recognize that it took real people to bring Jiminy, Uncle Scrooge and all the rest to life, the real person that came to personify Disney to me as much as any cartoon character was Eisner. My first memories of Eisner were as the host of "The Wonderful World of Disney" as a youngster. I remember being struck by his raspy voice, something that strikes me still, as though either endless cartons of cigarettes or countless hours of boardroom speeches have carved a permanent set of grooves in his throat. I suspect it's the latter.
I also recall being struck by his manner. Eisner could never be described as warm, exactly, but he always came across to me as WANTING to be. Stories of a rigidly-administered childhood from a stern father might explain some of this. I always felt as if part of Eisner wanted to see what it would be like to give Mickey Mouse a big hug, but couldn't quite bring himself to do more than put an arm around his shoulder.
Eisner's role within the company might also have explained some of this. During the early days of the company, the creative and business aspects of Disney were split cleanly, we're told, between the two Disney brothers. Eisner seemed to combine them more freely, always trying to justify the pixie dust against the balance sheet. It seems to be that tightrope act that has earned him detractions and accolades in seemingly equal volume.
Another memory I'll carry of Eisner comes from the now-infamous company shareholder meeting where Roy Disney and Stanley Gold roasted him in front of a roomful of stakeholders, and a much larger audience by radio. After Eisner absorbed the fiery darts of the pair, he again took the podium. His voice sounded a little hollow as I recall, a bit defeated. Yet he not only swallowed the criticism, he cracked a few jokes and continued with the presentation. No bile, no counterattacks, just a little humor and on with the show. One could argue, I suppose, that he had little choice as the event's emcee, but regardless, Eisner impressed me that day.
I was reminded pretty quickly from there that all of the public attacks on Eisner by the Disney/Gold pair and others weren't on some caricatured tyrant; they were against a real, flesh-and-blood man. A man with flaws, needless to say, but a man who seemed to believe in his role at Disney and who (whether the perception is true or not) simply seemed too busy running a corporation to bother with public shouting matches over whether the company's deceased founder would approve of his every decision.
Eisner never gave the impression that he had a head bursting with new, exciting ideas. He never seemed to exude a childlike exhuberance or insatiable curiosity. You never got the impression that he was comfortable wearing a big black pair of mouse ears or an engineer's cap. In short, he was never Walt Disney…a shortcoming many never forgave him.
But he was who he was. I've grown used to seeing him surrounded by fake castles, dancing mice and pretend mermaids. Yes, he always looked a little out of place, but I always felt like he "got" Disney in a way that many never gave him credit for. He certainly did a formidable job of sustaining it for quite a long time.
After today, that will all be past.
I, for one, will miss Michael Eisner.
I'm not writing this to talk about Eisner's impact on Disney's culture of "magic." That topic has been discussed ad infinitum. In my opinion, the concept of "magic" is too fluffy and fleeting to tie to one man. Pixie dust, if it exists, doesn't emerge from boardroom meetings or ride in the pockets of men wearing suits. Surely it has a different source, and surely its means of propagation are unaffected by balding tycoons.
I'm not writing this to discuss Eisner's impact on Mickey's bottom line. I'll leave that to smarter people, who enjoy playing with numbers. Frankly, I find the minutiae of business rather boring. However, despite my liberal arts education insisting that numbers can be massaged to say the sky is silver, everything I've seen indicates that the company's coffers did just fine for much of Eisner's time at the wheel.
This, then, is a chance to recall some of the memories I'll carry of Eisner, not from leaked company memos or secondhand relation of corporate infighting, but from direct observation.
Once I became old enough to recognize that it took real people to bring Jiminy, Uncle Scrooge and all the rest to life, the real person that came to personify Disney to me as much as any cartoon character was Eisner. My first memories of Eisner were as the host of "The Wonderful World of Disney" as a youngster. I remember being struck by his raspy voice, something that strikes me still, as though either endless cartons of cigarettes or countless hours of boardroom speeches have carved a permanent set of grooves in his throat. I suspect it's the latter.
I also recall being struck by his manner. Eisner could never be described as warm, exactly, but he always came across to me as WANTING to be. Stories of a rigidly-administered childhood from a stern father might explain some of this. I always felt as if part of Eisner wanted to see what it would be like to give Mickey Mouse a big hug, but couldn't quite bring himself to do more than put an arm around his shoulder.
Eisner's role within the company might also have explained some of this. During the early days of the company, the creative and business aspects of Disney were split cleanly, we're told, between the two Disney brothers. Eisner seemed to combine them more freely, always trying to justify the pixie dust against the balance sheet. It seems to be that tightrope act that has earned him detractions and accolades in seemingly equal volume.
Another memory I'll carry of Eisner comes from the now-infamous company shareholder meeting where Roy Disney and Stanley Gold roasted him in front of a roomful of stakeholders, and a much larger audience by radio. After Eisner absorbed the fiery darts of the pair, he again took the podium. His voice sounded a little hollow as I recall, a bit defeated. Yet he not only swallowed the criticism, he cracked a few jokes and continued with the presentation. No bile, no counterattacks, just a little humor and on with the show. One could argue, I suppose, that he had little choice as the event's emcee, but regardless, Eisner impressed me that day.
I was reminded pretty quickly from there that all of the public attacks on Eisner by the Disney/Gold pair and others weren't on some caricatured tyrant; they were against a real, flesh-and-blood man. A man with flaws, needless to say, but a man who seemed to believe in his role at Disney and who (whether the perception is true or not) simply seemed too busy running a corporation to bother with public shouting matches over whether the company's deceased founder would approve of his every decision.
Eisner never gave the impression that he had a head bursting with new, exciting ideas. He never seemed to exude a childlike exhuberance or insatiable curiosity. You never got the impression that he was comfortable wearing a big black pair of mouse ears or an engineer's cap. In short, he was never Walt Disney…a shortcoming many never forgave him.
But he was who he was. I've grown used to seeing him surrounded by fake castles, dancing mice and pretend mermaids. Yes, he always looked a little out of place, but I always felt like he "got" Disney in a way that many never gave him credit for. He certainly did a formidable job of sustaining it for quite a long time.
After today, that will all be past.
I, for one, will miss Michael Eisner.
