347 - Hollywood: Blueprint (Patreon)

347 - A Momentary Slip

At the Universal City lot, between Los Angeles and Burbank, Ron Meyer stood by his office window with a cup of coffee. Night had fallen. Lights spread across the city toward Warner's offices, where one of his strongest competitors had been growing stronger every year.

Warner's sequels kept earning money, and Evan Rosenberg's dark films gave the studio another run of hits. This year's returns looked formidable. A single oversized production could still wipe out a studio's profits; as budgets climbed past a hundred million dollars, even the majors had reasons to be careful. A smaller company might not survive one such failure.

Warner, however, had found a formula it trusted. Its expensive releases leaned more heavily on established series, with audiences already waiting for them. Evan's films supplied a separate stream of box office and attention.

Batman Begins had added something else. DC merchandise and licensing were developing into a substantial business. Disney had spent years building that kind of reach around its animated films. Warner was beginning to put its own system in place, while preparing another Batman film and a broader slate of DC projects. Its new writing unit would support Evan as those scripts moved forward.

For now he remained the center of the plan. The studio had characters other companies would have loved to control, but it also had a filmmaker who had made audiences want to see them. Once Evan became an investor as well as a director, pushing him aside was no longer as simple as pressuring an employee.

That was why his competitors were watching the accusations so closely. They did not have to invent the story to benefit from its spread. If the controversy reduced the pull of his next film, Warner would feel it.

"CBS reaches enough people," Ron said without turning from the window. "The effect won't be small. Have our publicity people and the outlets we work with pick up the story tomorrow."

Justin, newly arrived from New York, nodded. "I've already made the calls. We won't be the only ones following it. Anything about Rosenberg draws an audience right now."

Other companies might act on the same calculation without any formal agreement. Ron had seen it before when Steven Spielberg's DreamWorks began looking like a possible new major: rivals took every opening to slow a competitor's rise. Warner's lead was now large enough to provoke a similar response. Every extra share of the market it kept was share another studio could not claim.

The majors worked together when it suited them. Competition remained the rule.

"Move the Hulk project along," Ron said as he left the window. "We need a superhero of our own. If this picture works, I'll take a serious proposal for more Marvel characters to the people who can approve it. There are still properties worth pursuing."

He would have liked to move sooner. But Universal was not his personal property, and its parent company, Seagram, would want evidence before committing to a larger comics strategy. A successful Hulk film could give him that evidence.

He envied Warner's control of DC. Jeff Robinov, now its chief executive, could plan around a catalog Universal did not possess.

Justin shrugged. "Our director had other ideas. The producers told him we want the picture dark. If he can't get behind that, they can find someone who can."

Warner's Batman had made a serious approach look commercially safe. Universal's executives saw little reason to gamble on a lighter treatment of the Hulk. After months in theaters, Batman Begins was nearing the end of its run on fewer than two hundred screens, yet the remaining houses still drew audiences. The comparison was hard for them to ignore.

"Has she made up her mind?" Ron asked.

Justin knew at once whom he meant. "No. She keeps saying she's considering it."

"Liar Liar is moving toward production. Have the agent call her again. Tell her that if she wants a second chance to work with Jim Carrey, she can't leave them waiting forever."

Cameron Diaz's first major breakthrough had come opposite Carrey. Ron could not imagine her dismissing another lead in a production built around him. The same intermediary had also raised Men in Black, with its own substantial cast and budget. The offers were unusually strong; in Ron's view, she would eventually weigh them against any loyalty she felt toward Evan and choose the work.

Boston was far from the conversations taking place in Los Angeles. In the master bedroom of his Four Seasons suite, Evan sat on the edge of the bed with a telephone in his hand. He was listening to Cameron.

"Cami, you're harder to tempt than they expected," he said. "I didn't think you'd tell me about the offers yourself."

"Damn right I did. Sugar daddy, huh? You have no idea how much I'd be giving up." Her voice tightened. "But I'm betting you'll give me more."

Evan let a moment pass. "You won't regret it, Cami. You'll get more than you think. Oh, fuck. Easy."

"What was that?" Cameron asked.

He looked down between his knees. Jennifer Connelly met his eyes with a look of perfect innocence, then blinked.

"Nothing. Don't turn them down yet. I'll have Nina call you later. I need to go."

He set the receiver down.

"Sorry, sweetheart," Jennifer said. "I didn't mean to hurt you. I swear."

"Shit. I'm going to..."

The telephone rang again. Evan held back a groan, picked up the receiver, and covered the mouthpiece before speaking. He looked down at Jennifer once more.

"If you suddenly forget what you're doing again," he told her, "you're going to regret it."

She adjusted. He waited a beat, then uncovered the receiver.

"Hello. Evan Rosenberg speaking."

"Evan, it's Halle. There's something you need to know..."