Chapter 126: Spielberg

[Chapter 126: Spielberg]

Eric shook his head slightly and explained, "Tom, the reason it is called rivalry is that its core revolves around the two main characters' rival performances. If the balance is off, the movie's excitement will really take a hit. Besides, I think this is where you can shine the most; Hanks has to share scenes with Joe Pesci and others, while your role is a one-man show -- no need to add anything more."

Hearing Eric's refusal, Cruise, while knowing deep down that Eric was right, still showed a hint of displeasure on his face.

Originally, Eric didn't think much of Cruise's personal qualities, nor did he care about the various rumors. Everyone had their own way of living, and Hollywood was full of just that. At least Cruise was a dedicated and hardworking individual, which was why Eric had initially wanted to collaborate with him.

But now, Eric began to regret it a bit, as Cruise's desire for control was quite strong, and Eric too was a person who liked to be in charge. It seemed inevitable that there would be conflicts during the filming. After some thought, Eric felt that it mainly stemmed from his own inexperience, which likely made Cruise feel a sense of superiority.

"Well, Eric, about the waitress, is Brooke Shields... too tall?" Cruise asked, as he often felt insecure about his height, just over five foot seven. After just being turned down, he let the remark slip in a moment of impulse, immediately regretting it. "I'm just hitting myself in the face here."

Recalling the information about Brooke Shields' height being six feet, Eric struggled not to laugh. If she wore heels, she would be nearly as tall as Gina Davis, who had just hugged him at the awards ceremony.

Eric managed to stifle his laughter and said, "Tom, you really don't need to worry about that. The scenes you two share in the bus or the restaurant, you'll be sitting down, so there won't be any walking side by side."

"Okay," Cruise nodded awkwardly, taking a sip of red wine to mask his embarrassment, and quickly walked away.

...

Just as Eric turned to go back to the crowd, Virginia popped up from nowhere and wrapped her arm around Eric's.

"Gee, you're looking too closely." Eric teased with a chuckle, seeing right through Virginia's sensitive nature.

She immediately gave him a hurt look and withdrew her arm. "If you like some other beauty, just go for her."

"Never mind, let's head back," Eric said, glancing at his watch. "No need for you to be all nervous as if I'm about to fly away."

"Uh-huh," Virginia joyfully clung to Eric's arm again. "Can I come over to your place tonight?"

"Sure, but you've drawn attention tonight; there are bound to be paparazzi waiting outside."

Virginia had already come up with a plan. "We can just take the elevator to the parking lot, drive Mr. Hyde's car out, and if we're careful, we'll be fine."

If it weren't in a crowded place, Eric would have loved to pinch Virginia's cheek and compliment her.

Just as they were about to leave, a commotion appeared at the entrance of the banquet hall. Eric thought he heard someone call out "Mr. Spielberg" or something similar, and sure enough, a large crowd gathered around a middle-aged man with round glasses as he entered the banquet hall.

"So it's Steven Spielberg; what's he doing here?" Virginia asked curiously.

"Who knows," Eric shrugged, then said, "Let's go say hello before we leave, or it might come off as rude."

"Yep," Virginia seemed eager to go too.

...

As they were getting ready to approach, Spielberg made his way over to Eric.

To everyone's surprise, Spielberg extended his hand and said, "Eric, I thought you would be at the Hilton. I only found out you were here when I arrived there; you really are hard to find."

"Well... not sure how to put this, Mr. Spielberg, but if you want to meet with me, you could contact my agent to arrange it," Eric replied, shaking his hand in confusion.

"Everyone is busy, and today is a special occasion, which is why I could find some time," Spielberg explained. "Eric, I had someone reserve a room downstairs; let's go there. Oh, this... lady can join us too."

"Sounds good," Eric nodded, pulling Virginia along to follow Spielberg out, all while the crowd whispered, guessing about the situation. Although they missed a chance to connect with Spielberg, none of them felt particularly entitled to it. Meanwhile, Cruise kept watching as Spielberg and Eric disappeared through the door, feeling more disappointed. He originally thought Spielberg was heading towards the crew or even himself, but that turned out not to be the case.

As for working with Spielberg, Cruise didn't feel a pressing need; he simply wished to make connections with Spielberg, who represented the Jewish elite in Hollywood. As long as he maintained a good relationship with Spielberg, he would be well-integrated into the Jewish circles of Tinseltown.

Hollywood was truly a realm dominated by Jews. Barry Diller and Michael Eisner were among many studio executives who were Jewish, while prominent directors and stars like Spielberg and Harrison Ford were also part of that community. Having recently parted ways with CAA, Cruise aspired to step beyond the mere status of an actor and into that of a producer, making relationships within Hollywood's Jewish community essential.

...

In a downstairs room at the banquet hall, the four of them settled in after a server brought in coffee and then left the room.

"Eric, how's Drew? Haven't seen her visit in a long time," Spielberg casually started the conversation without rushing into business.

Eric wasn't in a hurry either, but noticed Virginia sitting stiffly next to him, which embarrassed her. "She is a bit carefree," Eric chuckled. "She happens to be home today, so I'll give her a good talking to about how long it's been since she last visited you."

"I heard Drew's relationship with you is pretty unique, almost like father and daughter. At first, I didn't really believe it, but hearing how you spoke just now, I started to think it might actually be true. But her being with you is a good choice; her parents... well, let's not get into that. Eric, treat her well."

"I will," Eric nodded, not probing into how Spielberg knew that information; his connections in Hollywood were far beyond what Eric could ever rival.

Spielberg lazily took a sip of coffee and said, "Actually, I came to talk to you about the rights to your book. I had someone reach out to you a few times, but they were turned down, so I've come here myself today. Eric, how about selling the film rights to me?"

Eric didn't respond immediately, contemplating with his coffee cup in hand. In truth, he was very troubled; selling the film rights to Spielberg was out of the question. Even in his previous life, he wouldn't have agreed to let Spielberg direct this film. He still remembered some projected figures.

In his past life, the film grossed over $900 million globally, with $350 million in North America and $600 million overseas. Based on an average revenue split of 55% domestic and 20% international, the film ultimately netted about $310 million in takings, and Universal Pictures' investment was roughly $70 million. After subtracting the costs, the film would yield a huge profit of $240 million, a number that would have sent anyone into a frenzy. After all, even in 1993, no studio would see yearly profits that could match that figure.

But as with any story, a divine twist awaited.

Spielberg, known as the shrewdest businessman in film, managed to negotiate a high-revenue sharing agreement with Universal, as a director. The ultimate result was that Spielberg personally walked away with about $250 million from the project!

Yes, that was $10 million more than the total revenue, and in 1993, when DVD players hadn't yet arrived, the home video market, accounting for only 30% to 40% of movie earnings, generated significantly less in ancillary revenue. Essentially, most of the profits ended up in Spielberg's pocket, leading to the grand establishment of DreamWorks in 1994. Had it not been for its related merchandise and theme park revenues, Universal's higher-ups would certainly have felt like burying their heads in shame.

As for the rumors about Spielberg's discontent due to Universal's bundled investments leading him to establish DreamWorks independently, that theory held no water.

No investment, yet walking away with $250 million, and he still felt disgruntled? Where's the logic in that?

What troubled Eric now was how to refuse Spielberg subtly without ruining the relationship with this influential Jewish director in Hollywood.

"Mr. Spielberg, actually... I originally intended to direct my own adaptation of this book, so..." Eric stammered, trying to find the right words, "So... I didn't plan on selling the film rights."

Spielberg smiled warmly like a mentor and analyzed, "Eric, I've seen a few of your films, and I believe your strengths lie more in low-budget comedies or dramas. This particular sci-fi novel might be beyond your capacity for quite a while. I don't mean to belittle you, but you are still quite young and lack experience. I was in the same boat; I made my first short in '59, but it took me sixteen years to be able to create a sci-fi film like that. Your talent, while it surpasses mine by a good margin, may still need about ten years of accumulation. By then, many people might forget this novel, and reshooting it could be very risky; it's easy to lose money if one isn't cautious."

*****

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