Chapter 77: Am I That Kind of Person?

"Bill," Murphy looked at Bill Ross, "are you talking about packaging services?"

The one-stop packaging service offered by CAA was well-known in Hollywood, but when would they be interested in a small project like his?

"No, it's me personally providing services for you," Bill Ross shook his head. A small project like this wouldn't catch the company's eye. "You focus on the film, and leave tasks like finding suitable crew members to me. I'll handle it internally at CAA, it won't be difficult."

If it weren't for the low budget of the film and Murphy Stanton's lack of fame, he would have applied for one-stop packaging services from the company long ago.

Murphy Stanton, this super potential client, was still just that—a potential client.

According to relevant laws and regulations, agents couldn't directly participate in film production, but finding suitable crew members on behalf of clients was entirely permissible. Murphy considered for a few seconds before nodding in agreement.

"I can entrust these tasks to you," he said directly, "but I can't offer you a five percent commission."

"No problem," Bill Ross wasn't shortsighted either. He was thinking about the long term. "We can discuss it later."

Although CAA touted a flat management structure outwardly, where all agents had equal status, it wasn't truly implemented. Everyone wanted to be in the upper echelons of the building. And every CAA agent harbored a desire to become Michael Ovitz.

"Oh, and one more thing," Murphy remembered something else, "I need four main actors. I've already discussed with Kerry about the female lead, and I have a rough idea for another male actor. Can you help me find two more Caucasian actors?"

Bill Ross nodded. "Don't worry, I'll get back to you soon."

Murphy and Bill Ross talked until dusk, ironing out many work-related matters.

Having an agent made many things easier; otherwise, there would be no point in entertainment agencies existing.

His project was too small for CAA to take notice, so Bill Ross could only offer a seemingly unofficial personal packaging service. But what if it were CAA's one-stop packaging service?

Leaving the building, Murphy couldn't help but ponder these questions.

Honestly, he didn't oppose CAA's packaging policy. In fact, it could benefit directors like him who didn't have a fixed team. Otherwise, Hollywood producers and other agencies wouldn't accept it.

At least it could reduce a lot of his workload, allowing him to focus solely on film production.

This policy initiated by Michael Ovitz was the foundation of CAA's strength and could also alleviate many troubles for client companies.

While other agencies were still simply chasing stars, Michael Ovitz had already recruited top talents for every position needed in television and film production, providing one-stop packaging services for major Hollywood companies.

Today in Hollywood, this kind of packaging service was quite prevalent, meeting the needs of many film companies, directors, and producers.

In Murphy's understanding, this model was suitable for the current development of Hollywood. The only downside he saw was that CAA's one-stop packaging service required an additional commission, usually ten percent, not just on box office earnings, but on all aspects of the film.

Although he didn't even have the qualifications to engage CAA's services yet, thinking from a different perspective still made him feel a bit stingy.

As the sky darkened, Murphy left Century City and drove into Beverly Hills, heading straight to Rodeo Drive. This was the busiest commercial street in Beverly Hills. After circling around for a while, he finally found a parking spot. After parking, he walked about a hundred meters to a bar.

Looking up at the bar's sign to confirm he was in the right place, Murphy paid the entrance fee and entered the bar. The sound of pop metal immediately filled his ears.

Perhaps due to the early hour, there weren't many people in the bar, but the dim lighting made it hard for Murphy to spot his target.

"Sir," a waiter noticed Murphy looking around, seeming to search for someone, and hurried over. "Can I help you with something?"

"Oh, right." Murphy stopped in his tracks and said, "I'm meeting Mr. James Franco here..."

Just as he said that, a hand reached out from behind and lightly tapped Murphy's shoulder. He turned to see James Franco, with his naturally curly hair, standing behind him.

"Over here." Franco motioned for him to follow.

"Thanks." Murphy politely thanked the waiter and then followed Franco. The two passed through the dance floor on the ground floor and went upstairs, where they sat at a table overlooking the ground floor.

"You're hopeless!" Franco handed Murphy a bottle of dark beer. "Didn't you think to come upstairs?"

Murphy opened the bottle, took a sip, shrugged, and joked, "I was just about to come up."

The two clinked their bottles, and Franco almost finished half of his in one go, nodding towards Murphy. "What do you need from me?"

"I'm working on a new project," Murphy put down the beer bottle. "There's a role in it that's perfect for you."

Franco didn't even think about it before shaking his head. "No, those $300,000 indie films are enough for me."

"This time it's definitely not a $300,000 indie film," Murphy assured him. "My investment has multiplied many times over."

"You only sold your film for a million," Franco looked disdainful, revealing the truth, "I don't believe you have more money to invest."

Murphy awkwardly scratched his nose, picked up another beer bottle, opened it, and handed it to Franco. "Jim, am I that kind of person?"