The Knights' Tale

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Power Couple: Phil Knight relies on a mix of outsiders and insiders to make Laika work. (“Not exactly textbook,” he laughs.) Here, CEO and Nike alum Dale Wahl (left) and director Selick, on set.

Phil stepped down as Nike CEO several months after the funeral. Matthew's death, he says, influences his relationship with Travis in ways he's not even aware of. "If it's your subconscious," he asks, "how do you know?"

After a long pause, Travis says, "It brought the family closer. You realize all this can go away in a minute."

It's a Friday morning in April on the set of Coraline, housed in a nondescript office park not far from Nike, outside Portland. Phil, 69, sits at a conference table in a black T-shirt, pin-striped suit jacket, and black Nike Air 360 running shoes without socks (he averages 25 miles a week these days). He sips a Diet Coke. Without his trademark shades, Phil, notoriously media shy, seems less mysterious. Not verbose by any means, but approachable, even playful with his son. Travis, 33, on a break from animating, is built more like a broad-shouldered wrestler than a runner, and he's dressed like a roadie in a black T-shirt, jeans, and his lucky boots (they date to his big break, The PJs). It's their first joint interview.

Asked what his toughest business decision has been, Travis's quick wit deserts him. "Do we really want to get into this?"

"Changing CEOs?" Phil asks.

"I'm thinking of something else."

Earlier this year, Laika reviewed the latest work on Jack and Ben, an original screenplay by Jorgen Klubien, who helped write Cars and other Pixar films. Phil, Travis, and the other board members agreed the script wasn't working, and they let Klubien go. (He landed at DreamWorks, working on the next Shrek.)

"It was heart-wrenching," Travis says, "because I considered Jorgen a friend, and that relationship is destroyed."

Phil's advice? "That's the way it works. Get used to it."

The father is teaching the son that, artistry aside, he'll need to keep his claws sharp. The son musters a tight smile.

"In 25 words or less," Phil says, "in your nonfamily life, the thing that means the most to you is the company." (Even after stepping down as Nike's CEO, he says, as chairman he still "walks the fine line between meddling and being away too much.")

"I probably have pushed him," Phil says. "That's kind of the way fathers are, right?"

Travis is learning this and other lessons. Firing a friend is just the latest. "If this company is to survive and make the films we want to make, we have to make those sorts of decisions, even though they're painful," he says.

"Those will be with you forever," Phil tells him.

Coraline is a fairy tale that explores the nature of family and identity. Who are your parents, really? Can you accept their flaws? Would you exchange them, given a choice? Just as Coraline traverses two worlds, so too does Travis. "There are things about the company I can't discuss with my friends on the floor," he says. "But the minute I become a suit to the other animators and artists, I lose a huge part of who I am. I don't fit into either world."

Travis is more comfortable with that dual role, though, than he was when he joined the board. He's had several years to reflect on the events that turned him and his father into partners. And while being Phil Knight's son can clearly be an albatross, it's hard to ignore the upside. Travis, after all, has come an awfully long way in his nine-year career--far beyond the imagination or reach of a typical animator. Phil created opportunities for his son before he could earn them on his own. Overseeing development of the Laika campus. Hiring the animation department for Jack and Ben. Sitting on the board of directors. Before Laika, Travis had hoped to eventually supervise or direct one day. But nothing like this--and certainly not this fast.

For all of that, he's grateful. He embraces the responsibility. "If not me, then who?" he says. "These are people's livelihoods we're talking about. I'd much rather be a part of those decisions than leave it up to someone else."

"Extrapolate this out long enough," Phil says, "and one day it'll all be his."

Travis never worked at Nike, so Phil was never able to show him how he makes decisions, how he thinks about business. Laika gives him that chance. And in hiring industry novices such as Wahl, Phil may be replicating some of the more successful--if counterintuitive--choices he made back in the day.