It's hard to imagine an unlikelier pairing than the flashy, tabloid-courting Beckham and unassuming-to-the-point-of-invisible Anschutz. (Well, other than a pairing of their wives, presumptive American Idol judge Victoria "Posh" Beckham and Nancy Anschutz, who's mostly known—if she's known at all—for her philanthropic work, and has been with her husband since they were in college.)

Which brings us to Michael Jackson.

Other than making money—which even his detractors concede he does exceptionally well—Anschutz seems to be setting up the same sort of combined production and distribution deal that he's been doing for the last few years in his Hollywood holdings. As the owner of the 6,782-screen Regal Cinemas (which he created from the Regal, Edwards, and United Artists chains), Anschutz has created a huge venue for screening the family-friendly films he has funded, like 2005's The Chronicles of Narnia: The Lion, The Witch, and the Wardrobe, 2004's Oscar-winning Ray, and 2003's Holes. (The latter of which was likely close to Anschutz's heart since he made his first several hundred million with some oil-producing holes he dug in Northern Wyoming back in 1967—more on that later.)

Anschutz's politics also influence his movies based on true stories, as in the case of Ray. Critics like the New York Times' Caryn James have pointed out that the movie's producers played down Ray Charles' drug abuse and toned down harsh language to make the film a more family- (and box office-) friendly PG-13. In a searing, politically pointed appraisal of Anschutz' network of business and political interests, Nerve's Justin Clark also noted in 2006 that for films projected digitally like Lion (and its sequel Prince Caspian), Anschutz not only controls the making of the movie and its presentation, but can ensure delivery of the digital "print" via fiber-optic lines he owns under the aegis of Qwest Communications. Talk about covering all his bases.

Anschutz seems to have used a similar 360-degree scheme with Jackson by promoting a series of concerts through AEG Live, which were to be held an AEG Worldwide venue, and filmed for a concert movie which he will share ownership of with Sony and the Jackson camp. If only Jackson, who died at the hands of a doctor hired for him by AEG, had lived to fulfill the deal.

Luckily for Anschutz, he can probably recoup some lost funds by distributing the film to his Regal theaters (ensured that it will be family-friendly since he has a stake in its creation) and promoting it through any of his newspaper, magazine, or Web holdings. (An AEG rep would not comment on the company's plans for the Michael Jackson film.)

That's one way to make the best of a bad situation. This all-encompassing deal with Jackson (and his executors) calls to mind an story about Anschutz at age 27 that many journalists (notably Brian O'Reilly in Fortune and Graham Bowley in the New York Times) have used as a sort of origin story for the man who would one day be worth an estimated $80 billion.

As the story goes, in 1967 Anschutz borrowed heavily to buy up land after discovering oil near Gillette, Wyoming. But after making the purchase, his oil field caught on fire, threatening to destroy the nascent oilman before he could even count his first barrels of crude. To salvage the field, Anschutz hired Red Adair, the legendary oil-well firefighter, who reportedly told the young businessman, "If you don't pay me, don't ever have another oil-field fire." Not one to risk his investment—or a pass up a good side bet—Anschutz contacted Universal Pictures, which was putting together John Wayne's Hellfighters, a movie about oil-well firefighters, and negotiated a $100,000 fee to let a film crew shoot the blaze and the battle to stop it. Anschutz used that money to pay off his creditors, and after the fire was beaten, set himself along the road to unfathomable fortune—if not quite fame.

No wonder an unnamed colleague told Fortune that Anschutz "can see around corners." He probably owns those too.