A Bigger Move

"I see. All right," Zooey said after Adrian finished explaining the photographs of him with Katie.

Naomi no longer cared to argue over every rumor, while Jordana and Camilla already knew about the dinner. Zooey was the one person Adrian had expected to demand an explanation. He still remembered the ground rules she had laid down when they began seeing each other.

He had worked out an excuse and even considered blaming his absorption in Hughes, which was partly true. None of it mattered. Zooey listened, said she understood, and left it there. She had studied him for so long before answering that he had struggled to look convincing. Had she seen through him?

He found her harder to read all the time. Her interest in the strange and the occult gave her a certain air of mystery, or so he told himself. At least she was not shouting at him, and he found her reserve unexpectedly endearing.

People did not respond in predictable ways. Adrian could not know what Zooey thought, so he put the question aside. It might be avoidance, but he had nothing better to do with it yet.

Jessica had agreed to the public arrangement. Once Sanders and Frederick knew, they could work out the details. Frederick had not enjoyed surrendering control of Adrian's affairs, but he remained cooperative when it counted. The hardest scenes on The Aviator were behind Adrian now, and Scorsese gave him two days off. His plan for the Post would take longer. After resting, Adrian went to Backlot Pictures to speak to Todd about something else.

"Todd?" he called as he pushed open the office door. As chairman, and as a friend, he rarely stood on ceremony.

He stopped. A woman was seated across Todd's desk. Her hair was cut to a medium length and she wore a tailored suit. She had an understated presence that held his attention.

"Sorry. I didn't realize you were with someone." Adrian started to back out.

"It's all right. We were almost done." The woman smiled and rose to leave.

Todd held up a hand. "Wait a moment."

He turned to Adrian. "Your timing is good. Adrian, this is Sofia Coppola."

Sofia Coppola. Adrian had been reading the company's files, and the name came back to him at once. He offered his hand. "A pleasure, Ms. Coppola. I've heard Lost in Translation drew a great response in Venice. Congratulations."

"Thank you." She smiled.

Adrian knew her career had been scrutinized since childhood. Francis Ford Coppola's daughter had grown up around film sets. When Winona Ryder withdrew from The Godfather Part III, Sofia took the role, only to face harsh reviews and Razzie awards for her performance.

She later appeared briefly in Star Wars: Episode I - The Phantom Menace, then turned toward directing. Adrian thought she had found the work that suited her.

The Virgin Suicides earned a far warmer critical response than her performances had, even if it was a modest commercial release. Lost in Translation had brought her to Venice and attracted still more attention.

Todd had met with her soon afterward to discuss distribution. Adrian was not in the office every day; acting remained his main work, even though he chaired Backlot.

After they had talked for a while, Sofia suggested the company screening room. Half an hour into the film, Adrian said, "It's a compelling film. Even someone my age can recognize that kind of loneliness. I think it will find an audience."

Privately, he was restless. Many of his own films were quiet dramas, but Lost in Translation moved at a pace he found hard to settle into. The lead actress looked familiar; he had to search his memory for her name. Scarlett Johansson?

Sofia was sitting beside him. Adrian kept his attention on the screen and resisted the urge to yawn. He also decided against promising that they would work together someday. He had little interest in acting in one of her films.

When the screening finally ended, he saw Sofia out and returned to Todd's office. He let himself sink into a chair.

"Not for you?" Todd asked.

"The images and editing are strong. There are moments that work beautifully. People who want a fast-paced studio picture may not take to it, but there is an audience for this kind of film. We could build on the attention from Venice. The budget was around four million?"

Todd confirmed it. Adrian nodded. "It should at least make its money back. Is Backlot going to release it?"

"We financed it through a separate production entity," Todd said. "That leaves Backlot in a position to handle the release."

Todd had set up that entity to keep the project distinct from Backlot's more commercial slate and to preserve the independent identity Sofia wanted for it. The arrangement also gave him a clean way to organize the film's rights and its distribution deal.

Independent cinema was part of the appeal of Lost in Translation. Todd had wanted the financing and the film's public identity to reflect that, without closing off a later release through Backlot. Working with Sofia had introduced him to Nicolas Cage as well, which had helped open the National Treasure conversation.

Backlot had supplied the financing through the separate company, and Todd had kept the distribution rights where he wanted them. That gave Backlot the option to take the film to theaters itself.

Backlot's theatrical network was still small. It would never grow if the company did not give its partners releases worth showing. If Lost in Translation could at least cover its costs, it made a reasonable test of their distribution capacity.

"All right." Adrian nodded. Todd's plan made sense to him.

"Now tell me why you came in," Todd said. "It wasn't to discuss Lost in Translation, was it?"

"No. I wanted to ask whether you're ready for something bigger." Adrian straightened his collar, sounding deliberately grave.

Todd looked interested. "How much bigger?"

"More big-budget pictures with major studios. The kind with a good chance of making money." Adrian's confidence filled the room.

"Such as?" Todd narrowed his eyes.

"Do you know Transformers?" Adrian smiled.

A few years ago, he would have waited until a live-action Transformers film was already in development before remembering the franchise. Now he was actively looking for opportunities.

Hughes had become his benchmark. At first, Adrian had grown his production company to give himself leverage in Hollywood, a largely defensive move. He now wanted Backlot to become the strongest producer outside the major studios.

That did not conflict with his ambition to become the century's best actor. He could not run a company the way Hughes had, but he believed he could spot valuable projects. Todd had proved a capable chief executive. Why not put both strengths to work?

As Todd began taking Backlot into bigger productions, Adrian combed his memory for films due in the next few years that might be worth backing.

One name finally stood out: Transformers, the Hasbro toy line that had been part of so many eighties childhoods.

"Hold on." Todd turned to his computer. A few minutes later, he angled the monitor toward Adrian. "Is this what you mean?"

"You haven't heard of them?" Adrian asked.

"Of course I have. I wanted to be sure we were talking about the same property." Todd leaned back. "If you're serious, you've brought me a complicated problem. I don't know where the film rights stand."

"The toys already have an animated world behind them. If there's a market for a live-action version, Hollywood will find a way to make one." Adrian smiled as he said it.

"Maybe. But I doubt we'll be the only ones asking. Tell me what you want to do, Adrian." Todd's expression turned serious. "What's the move?"

Adrian laughed. "With a major studio. Did you think we'd go it alone?"