Chapter 135: Showing Goodwill

The banquet hall of the Beverly Hills Hilton Hotel was brightly lit, every inch of space filled with men and women in formal evening wear, sitting or standing. Duke held a glass of champagne, continually clinking glasses with those who came to greet him. Prompted by Nancy Josephson, he tailored his responses to each visitor's status—offering a polite nod or shaking hands and exchanging pleasantries.

Ever since he stepped into the massive banquet hall, the stream of people around him hadn't ceased; he drew them in like fresh blood attracting flies.

Executives and representatives from top-tier studios—Paramount, Universal Pictures, Warner Brothers, Sony Columbia Pictures, and Twentieth Century Fox—as well as second-tier companies like Carolco and Miramax, flocked over to congratulate Duke, simultaneously probing for the possibility of future collaborations.

While it was unlikely these studios would immediately invest the moment Duke pitched a new film project, they would absolutely fast-track the review and preliminary research at the highest speed their procedures allowed.

This was the aura that came with back-to-back successes.

This land might not place much stock in the concept of "superstition," but it was undeniably one of the most frantic nations on earth when it came to chasing winners.

"Even though Duke Rosenberg has only directed three movies..."

Standing a short distance away, Dick Cook watched Duke seamlessly work the room, waiting for the right moment to approach. He turned to another Disney executive beside him and said, "But the box office of those three films has climbed higher with each release. Independence Day is an absolute explosion. Our marketing department projects it could hit 350 million dollars in North America and 800 million dollars globally."

"Bob, Duke deserves our full attention!" he added.

Robert Iger nodded. "Duke's commercial capabilities are beyond question, but the critical reception of his films..."

"Critical reception? Does that even matter?"

Seeing a brief opening in the crowd around Duke, Dick Cook gave Iger a meaningful look, and the two men strode over.

"That's Dick Cook, head of Disney's live-action film production department."

Just as the two men approached, Nancy Josephson whispered a reminder in Duke's ear. "The other one is also a Disney executive, Robert Iger. He likes to go by Bob."

"Hi, Duke."

"Hi, Dick. Hi, Bob."

They shook hands and exchanged warm greetings, acting like incredibly close friends. Duke was sure he had met the two men at other events before, though he didn't have a deep impression of them. Just as he had done all evening, he maintained a demeanor that was neither arrogant nor overly humble.

"Congratulations on your film's massive success."

Of the two men, Dick Cook was clearly taking the lead. "It truly is an astounding achievement."

"Thank you!" Duke smiled, raising his glass to him.

Dick Cook took a small sip of his wine. After another actress walked over to say hello and left, he cut straight to the chase. "I hear you have another script? When do you plan to turn it into an official film project? You could give Disney priority consideration."

"Soon enough." Duke tilted his head toward the woman beside him. "If Disney is interested, Nancy..."

"We are very interested."

Shaking hands with Nancy Josephson, Dick Cook said, "Nancy, why don't we find a place to talk in detail after the banquet?"

"Not a problem." Nancy displayed her excellent professionalism.

In a nearby corner, Warner Brothers' Jeff Robinov was watching the exchange. His brows were knit together tightly, showing almost none of the joy that should have followed the film's massive box office success.

Seeing the Disney executives shake Duke's hand in farewell, only to be immediately replaced by the people from Sony Columbia, Jeff Robinov understood one thing clearly: a director this successful was inevitably going to be the prime target of all of Hollywood.

If studios didn't chase after a director whose single film could gross over 300 million dollars at the North American box office, then Hollywood would truly be an asylum of idiots!

Thinking this over, Jeff Robinov lightly tapped his right index finger against his middle finger. The current CEO of Warner Brothers was about to step down. Thanks to the back-to-back successes of Independence Day and The Rock, which he had championed, he had won the internal power struggle at Warner Brothers and was already the undeniable candidate for the CEO position.

Jeff Robinov's next consideration was how to consolidate his position and deliver spectacular performance results.

He had read Duke's new script. It was a story about the Normandy landings and a rescue mission. The content was not only explosive but also appropriately laced with a level of humanism absent in Duke's previous films. Next year marked the fiftieth anniversary of the Allied victory in Europe. If such a film were released on D-Day, VE Day, or Memorial Day, it would be an absolute box office juggernaut...

While this genre of film couldn't possibly achieve the super-blockbuster numbers of Independence Day, it naturally possessed Oscar potential. If it could make waves at the Academy Awards, the subsequent profits from television broadcasts and videotape rentals and sales would increase tremendously!

How could they maintain their partnership with Duke? Jeff Robinov couldn't help but pinch his chin in thought.

It was true that according to their original agreement, Warner Brothers had the right of first refusal for investment, but that was based on matching terms. To think that other Hollywood studios wouldn't be tempted by Duke's film projects and would just watch helplessly as Warner Brothers snatched them up—that was the most naive and foolish joke of all!

Most importantly, Duke Rosenberg was only twenty-four years old. He held limitless potential for the future. Just look at the kind of track record Spielberg had built from Jaws up to the present!

The mere thought of this made Jeff Robinov eager to tie the young director securely to the Warner Brothers chariot.

But how exactly to tie him down—that was a question worth pondering.

"Duke, what are your thoughts on monsters?"

Standing opposite him was Mickey Schulhof, Vice President of Sony Columbia Pictures. Unlike the Japanese executive beside him, who was overly verbose and insincere, Schulhof was a quintessential American businessman. After a brief greeting, he got straight to the point. "It's a colossal creature with devastating destructive power."

"You don't mean Godzilla, do you?" Duke immediately grasped his meaning.

"Yes, exactly that monster from Japan." Seeing that Duke was familiar with it, Schulhof immediately launched into his pitch. "Sony Entertainment acquired the film rights to Godzilla back in 1992 and has been planning a film adaptation ever since. However, we've never been able to find the right director—a director who can fully unleash Godzilla's raw power on screen!"

Duke nodded, waiting for him to continue.

Mickey Schulhof took a moment to organize his words. "Frankly speaking, Duke, Independence Day only destroyed North America. Don't you want to lay waste to even more places? Like Japan, for instance?"

"Japan?" Duke's eyes immediately lit up. "For the longest time, I've really, really wanted to sink Japan, or just destroy the whole place. Godzilla..."

Hearing Duke's words, the Japanese executive beside Schulhof looked a bit awkward.

Despite making a few teasing remarks, Duke wasn't about to commit a faux pas in such a setting. "I mean destroying Japan in a movie, of course. I assume Mr. Ohga wouldn't mind?"

"Of course not."

The Japanese executive immediately flashed his brightest smile. "I absolutely love Director Rosenberg's work, and I thoroughly enjoy seeing those earth-shattering scenes."

"Thank you..."

After returning a casual pleasantry, Duke looked back at Schulhof. "Mickey, I already have my own plans lined up next. I'm afraid I won't be able to collaborate with Sony Entertainment."

"Duke, think it over again." Mickey Schulhof lowered his voice. "Sony Entertainment has set a production budget of 120 million dollars for this project. If you're willing to step in as director, that budget can be increased even further..."

Frowning slightly, Duke directed him straight to his agent. "You guys should have a chat with Nancy first."

Directing a Japanese monster movie? That was entirely outside of Duke's plans. It wasn't an issue of prejudice, but a practical consideration: the North American film and television market was incredibly insular. It was exceedingly difficult for foreign properties to achieve success, and would a Japanese-style Godzilla even align with the aesthetic tastes of mainstream North American audiences? What a joke.

If he were to overhaul Godzilla's appearance, he might be able to win over a segment of the North American audience, but he would subsequently lose the film's largest source of revenue—the Japanese market!

This was a thoroughly thankless subject matter to begin with!

If he really had to make a monster movie, Duke would rather create an original creature from scratch than use Godzilla.

After dealing with the duo from Sony Columbia, Duke finally had a brief moment of free time. His eyes swept across the spacious banquet hall. The ribbons and flower petals scattered at the start of the celebration party lay everywhere. Guests trampled over them as they moved back and forth, completely forgetting the theme of the celebration as the event inevitably shifted into a purely corporate networking party.

Aside from Duke himself, the film's lead actors were also prime targets for the crowd's adulation. This was especially true for Will Smith and Naomi Watts, who were arguably the actors who had benefited most from the film. The former was incredibly well-received by teenagers, while the latter had garnered significant praise for her acting skills.

"Looking for suitable prey?"

Hearing the monotone, nasal voice behind him, Duke knew it had to be Sofia Coppola. He played along, asking, "Got any recommendations?"

Sofia stepped forward, standing shoulder-to-shoulder with him. She cast her gaze diagonally across the room, about thirty feet away. "Madonna Ciccone is over there. With your moves, you could definitely hook up with her. I'm sure she's very interested in guys like you, too."

"I have zero interest in her." Duke felt the alcohol churning in his stomach.

Even though Madonna looked like she was in her thirties at most, Duke was certain she had been born in the fifties. Moreover, she was notoriously indiscriminate with her partners, and his tastes weren't quite that extreme.

Just thinking about how Dennis "The Worm" Rodman was constantly hooking up with her killed whatever shred of interest Duke might have had.

Suddenly, Sofia Coppola dropped her joking expression and warned him with her serious, professional tone, "Duke, Thomas Rothman is heading this way."

The man approaching was Thomas Rothman, CEO of Twentieth Century Fox. Having collaborated on two films, there was no need for excessive pleasantries between them. After sharing a glass of champagne, when the CEO asked about his recent plans, Duke cut straight to the point.

"Once this party is over, I'm planning to take a vacation in Europe."

Things were very different now compared to when he had no leverage whatsoever. Duke flashed a deliberate smile and said, "Thomas, my travel funds are still up in the air. I don't suppose you know when my box office cut is going to arrive?"