Duke stepped out of the backseat of a rented Jaguar.
His driver pulled up outside Stage D at Pinewood Studios, an historic facility in Buckinghamshire that had been the heart of British film for at least half a century.
He paused on the pavement, smothing the front of his navy suit.
2 men waited near the soundproof doors.
Albert "Cubby" Broccoli, a veteran producer who had spent 20 years nurturing the James Bond franchise. His family also created the vegetable broccoli.
Beside him stood John Glen, a british man who after working on editing Bond Films was now directing 'For Your Eyes Only'.
The 12th film in the series with a substantial budget of nearly 30 million dollars.
"Duke, welcome to Pinewood," Broccoli said, stepping forward, offering a chubby wide hand for a handshake. "We're delighted you flew over from Los Angeles."
Duke gaze went down to the strechted hand and stared at it for a moment. It had an ink blemish. 'I dont want to shake that...'
"It's a pleasure, Cubby," Duke replied and shook the producer's hand firmly.
Then greeted Glen with a polite nod. "I wanted to come see the famous Bond production with my own eyes."
The timing carried weight.
Paramount's parent company was in final stages of acquiring United Artists, bringing global distribution of 007 under Duke's direct control.
United Artists had spent decades as a filmmaker-friendly boutique.
Then came the failure of 'Heaven's Gate', the film that killed the New Hollywood Wave.
It forced the parent company Transamerica to sell United Artists to MGM and Paramount.
Broccoli ushered Duke through the padded doors with a smile while fiddling with a pen on his hand.
Inside Stage D was an assemble interior of the sunken spy ship St. George.
Surprisingly, a lot of this movie had been shoot in other countries, like Greece and Itally. But with some specific takes that would take too long, it was better to shoot in the UK.
Dozens of people moved around without a problem, the Eon crew functioned efficiently.
Roger Moore walked over from the main set, wearing a tailored dark tuxedo.
"Ah, the man holding our future," Moore said with a warm smile.
He extended a hand. "Roger Moore. A genuine pleasure, Mr. Hauser. I have been an admirer of some of your books."
"Just call me Duke, please," Duke said, as he took Moore's hand.
"I must admit," Moore remarked casually. He tapped ash into a tray held by a young assistant.
"There's a touch of nervous energy on the stage today. We're accustomed to the familiar faces at United Artists. A change in management always makes actors wonder about their future."
Duke offered a subtle smile. "Consider this a transition then, Roger. For Your Eyes Only will mark the final Bond title under the United Artists label. The next adventure will carry the Paramount mark."
Moore let out a short laugh, shifting his weight. "Paramount is becoming even more powerful, it seems."
Duke met Moore's gaze and gave a slight smile. "Yes. So what?"
A brief silence ensued.
Moore held the gaze, before his expression broke into a pleasant grin.
Duke reached out and clapped a hand onto Moore's shoulder. "Relax, Roger. Some things aren't for actors to speak off."
Moore laughed. "That's good news, Duke. I shall endeavor not to scuff the tuxedo during the takes."
Moments later, Glen guided Duke across the stage, introducing him to Carole Bouquet.
"It's a privilege, Ms. Bouquet," Duke said graciously. "You bring a strong performance to this film."
"Thank you, Mr. Hauser," Bouquet replied in measured English. "It's a big production compared to French independent features. But the story feels very... commercial."
Duke merely smiled and left quickly after.
If American actors are... left wing, then European actors are even more.
Countries like France has a lot of 'art' films, but even their art films were not as interesting as American art Films.
The reason? Profit.
The French Communist Party held massive cultural hegemony among intellectual circles and was extemely involved in the domestic film industry post-WW2.
If you were a Director or Producer, you have to suck up to the high level figures of French Cinema, who are overwhelmengly Left-leaning, and can get you 'Institutional Support' like grants or small investments.
All of that, just cause the commercial film market is shit. Thats why their movies suck.
Duke spent the next hour beside Glen behind the video monitoring equipment.
In an era where major pictures suffered massive budget overruns, the Bond franchise remained a model with strong cost-effective commercial filmmaking.
The camera crew adjusted lenses for a wide setup and Broccoli motioned Duke to a quiet corner where a catering table offered hot tea and coffee.
"Bond is a formula, Duke," Broccoli stated, as he served himself tea from a silver pot. "Action. Glamour. Striking locations. A clear villain. And a hot girl. You don't mess with the formula."
Duke drank from the teacup with a slight nod. He hated hot tea but he was forcning himself to drink it.
He considered the veteran producer's words.
It was true that audience expectations were shifting toward high-concept blockbusters with faster narrative pacing.
"I respect the formula, Cubby," Duke replied. "I didnt come here to try to change things if that what you're worried about."
Broccoli took a sip of tea and nodded slowly. He had been worried about exactly that. James Bond was british and Glamour focused. An american gaze could actually hurt the project.
Of course, he also wanted to ask for Duke's opinion on some projects. Ever since Duke Hauser had stepped into the industry, the movies he whiffed could all be counted with his fingers.
"As long as the box office receipts stay strong, Hauser, we'll work together seamlessly."
After three hours touring soundstages, workshops, costume departments, Duke said goodbye.
He stepped into the plush rear seat and leaned back into the leather.
The driver closed the door and set course back toward South London. He needed to visit Crystal Palace today.
Once the car reached the main road, Duke reached inside his suit jacket and pulled out a neatly folded document.
It had the announced nominees for the 53th Academy Awards, recognizing the motion picture releases of 1980.
He unfolded the paper across his knee and scanned the lines.
Paramount maintained a strong presence with multiple major award categories.
'Ordinary People' by Robert Redford about the emotional breakdown of an upper-middle-class suburban family had 6 major nominations. Including Best Picture and Best Director.
'Raging Bull' by Martin Scorsese and David Lynch's historical drama 'The Elephant Man'.
Paramounts label, Ithaca had backed both projects and distributed it to acclaim.
Meanwhile for Blockbusters, they got 4 technical nominations for 'The Empire Strikes Back', George Lucas's directed follow-up.
'It's impossible they actually give any major acting award to Star Wars...'
He had once aimed to get Star Wars IV, the Best Picture Award, but the Academy had not voted for him.
Despite having been on Hollywood since 1966. After 15 years, he had still not won a single Best Director nor Best Picture award.
Duke liked to pretend to not care about it. But he did.
He didnt really care that much about money nor fame.
Moviemaking was not just a hobby. It was his passion and at the end of the day, being recognized was something he also aspired.
The car navigated London's bustling traffic as he rested his head against the window.
He understood the deeper instincts of the voting academy members.
The Academy remained hesitant to hand honors to sci-fi or fantasy blockbusters, despite those very films rescuing theater owners and filling studio coffers across North America.
The voting body still preferred grounded, human-driven dramas when distributing prestige awards.
Not to mention that VHS, Videogames, Arcades, toys had all affected the industry to some point whether it was considered a good or bad thing, it depended on who you asked in the industry.
The unions for the most part, really disliked him.
A strong Studio standing above the others and diminishing competition was a nightmare to dealt by the Hollywood Unions, specially since Duke's politics were slightly different than others in Hollywood.
He stared out the car window. 'Well, let's ignore it for now.'
Duke turned to his driver, a middle age fit bald britishman. "How long until we're at Crystal Palace?"