C 20

In April, time moved inexorably forward for Luke. It had been almost a year since he began writing Speed, and the film still had not been released. Even with the knowledge of two lifetimes, even living again, he couldn't escape the most basic law of the film industry: patience.

The release date set by 20th Century Fox was fast approaching, and Luke finally saw news and advertisements for Speed appearing in the media. The Fox Television Network's Family Channel aired a 15-second commercial for three consecutive nights. Interviews with Keanu Reeves and Uma Thurman appeared in the entertainment sections of second- and third-rate newspapers in the Los Angeles area. Some film critics, in their columns, sought to attract attention through both praise and criticism. News Corporation tabloids even began publishing gossip about the male and female leads, claiming they were romantically involved. In cinemas, the film's trailer played, and in some more obscure theater locations, Speed posters could be seen, though not prominently.

A budget of one million dollars may seem astronomical to an individual, but in the marketing world of commercial cinema, it's relatively modest. Luckily, the film was set to debut in just a few of the top ten U.S. cities, including New York, Chicago, Los Angeles, Seattle, Boston, and Nashville. With this targeted approach, the level of promotion was decent enough for such a limited release.

Though the audience response during test screenings had been overwhelmingly positive, Twentieth Century Fox remained cautious. Only 50 copies of the film had been printed. Moreover, Fox's marketing efforts were focused elsewhere—Alien 3, directed by David Fincher, was their primary summer blockbuster, and massive resources had been poured into promoting it. CAA (Creative Artists Agency), which had packaged the film from production to casting, also had a heavy investment in it.

In an office in Century City, Rick Solomon, an actor with connections due to his father's position at Warner Bros., sat opposite his agent, Lovett, his frustration evident. "Shouldn't we pressure 20th Century Fox to focus all their attention on Alien 3 instead of wasting resources on a flop like Speed?" he asked.

"Calm down, Rick," Lovett replied, already annoyed by Solomon's simple-minded complaints. "This is just a trial run for Speed. The positive test screening doesn't necessarily mean it will perform well at the box office. It could end up disappearing after a week in theaters."

"That's what I'm hoping for!" Solomon exclaimed, his fists clenched.

Although Solomon claimed to want Speed to fail, he was fully aware that if it managed to stay in theaters until May, it would directly compete with Alien 3. The idea of crushing Luke Rosenberg's Speed at the box office clearly excited him. After all, what was Speed compared to the legendary Alien franchise?

Lovett, meanwhile, placed a call to Fox's publicity department, gently reminding them to focus their resources on Alien 3. For CAA, a move like this was trivial—small enough that it didn't require the attention of its top executives.

Despite the heavy competition, April remained the traditional off-season for films, with May's summer slate reserved for commercial blockbusters. On April 14th, without much fanfare, Speed opened in North America on just 20 screens. There was no red-carpet premiere, no major media events, and only minimal publicity. Instead, the theaters distributed questionnaires provided by Fox for audience feedback.

Harry Dunn, Fox's investigative observer in Los Angeles, arrived early at one of the cinemas near City Hall to monitor audience reactions. As he observed the crowd, it was clear that Speed wasn't drawing much attention. There were posters in the lobby and trailers running on the big screen, but the absence of big-name stars and aggressive marketing, combined with the fact that it was a weekday, meant that turnout was limited.

As the screening time approached, Dunn entered the theater. Just as he was settling into his seat, he heard a voice behind him. "Hey, it's you again!" Turning, he recognized a young man from the test screening.

"You came to see this movie again? What a coincidence," the young man said, gesturing to his friends.

"Yeah, coincidence," Dunn replied with a wave, though he knew it wasn't much of one—there were only two theaters in Los Angeles showing Speed.

Inside, the audience was sparse, with fewer than 20 people in the theater. The movie began, and one of the young man's companions, Cunites, absentmindedly munched on popcorn, expecting the usual long credits sequence. But when the film launched straight into the action, with a suspenseful elevator scene and only brief on-screen credits, Cunites perked up.

"This director is smart," Dunn thought to himself. The Director's Guild had strict rules about opening credits, and even George Lucas had famously left the guild over a dispute about the credits for Star Wars. By cleverly embedding the credits within the opening scene, Luke Rosenberg had adhered to the rules without boring his audience.

Meanwhile, the young man's friend, Jones, had leaned over to his group. "I told you this movie was great! The trailer doesn't do it justice. Trust me, you won't want to leave your seat."

Despite the lackluster attendance, Dunn observed something encouraging. The audience members who had seen the film during the test screening were enthusiastic, convincing their friends to come. It was word of mouth, the most powerful form of publicity. If Speed succeeded, it would be because of this kind of grassroots excitement.

As the opening scene played out and the tension escalated, Dunn felt a flicker of hope. Speed might just have a shot after all.