Chapter 136: Pursuit and Cooperation

Under his directorial salary agreement, once the film's North American box office reached $100 million, Duke would receive a base bonus of $500,000. Starting with a 5% cut at the $150 million mark, his share would increase by 5% for every additional $50 million, capping at a maximum of 20%.

Now that the North American box office for Independence Day had reached $310.93 million, Duke was fully entitled to that maximum 20% cut.

"I promise you, Duke," Thomas Rothman said earnestly. "You won't be short a single cent of your share."

It would take time to actually receive his share. Duke knew this perfectly well; he merely wanted to remind Twentieth Century Fox, the North American distributor, not to drag the process out too long.

His value was undeniable now. With a professional team overseeing his interests and his days as an obscure director firmly behind him, Duke was confident Twentieth Century Fox wouldn't make any unwise decisions.

After all, he already had a working relationship with both Warner Brothers and Twentieth Century Fox. All else being equal, Duke would undoubtedly prioritize them as partners, and the executives at both studios surely understood this.

Thomas Rothman didn't stay long. Clearly aware that empty words wouldn't sway Duke, he soon left, though not before scheduling a lunch appointment with Nancy Josephson for the following day.

"Let's find somewhere to sit for a bit."

Gesturing to Sofia and Nancy, Duke led the way toward the lounge area on the far left side of the banquet hall. Finding an empty table, he had a waiter bring three glasses of juice. He had just taken his seat and was about to bring up Independence Day's overseas box office when someone else sought him out.

However, this time it wasn't a representative from a major Hollywood studio, but old acquaintances: the Cruises.

"It's been a while, Duke."

Tom Cruise greeted him with a radiant smile before he even fully approached. Out of politeness, Duke stood up. "Yeah, long time no see. Tom, Mary, have a seat."

As they sat down, Sofia hailed a waiter, asked what they would like, and ordered two glasses of soda for them.

"Duke, I think there might be some misunderstanding between us," Tom Cruise said, taking the rare initiative to broach the subject.

"It's nothing, Tom." Duke shook his head, looking as if he genuinely didn't care at all. He offered a casual pleasantry, "Just trivial matters."

Where neither Duke nor Tom Cruise could see, Sofia Coppola rolled her eyes, her gaze seeming to mock a certain someone's insincere pleasantries.

"When I was walking over just now..." Tom Cruise quickly steered the conversation toward movies. "I heard a lot of studios are interested in financing your next film?"

"Just preliminary interest," Duke replied with a faint smile. "You know how it is, Tom. Hollywood studios have incredibly tedious approval processes."

"Can I ask what genre it is?"

Hearing the question, Duke fully understood his angle. "It's a story adapted from the experiences of 101st Airborne Division soldiers during the Normandy landings. You could call it a war film."

"So you're aiming for a release next year." Tom Cruise immediately realized that the following year would mark the fiftieth anniversary of the end of World War II.

"Assuming I can find a studio to fund it," Duke replied, avoiding a direct answer.

"Like your movie would ever lack funding?" Tom Cruise thought for a moment before suddenly suggesting, "I happen to have some capital on hand. Why don't we..."

"Thanks, Tom." Duke slowly shook his head, throwing up a convenient shield. "I signed an agreement giving Warner Brothers priority investment rights. If they pass on it, I suppose we might have a chance to collaborate."

Sweeping his gaze across Tom Cruise's face, Duke sighed inwardly. The massive success of Independence Day had triggered a terrifying chain reaction. Even someone like Tom Cruise was willing to temporarily set aside their past conflicts, come over to cozy up, and even offer to invest.

Naturally, Duke wouldn't accept the investment. Doing so would mean casting him as the lead, and compared to the Tom sitting in front of him, he much preferred to invite the other one.

As he had said before, if Tom Cruise was willing to take a pay cut and didn't mind playing a minor role with limited screen time, Duke would welcome him with open arms. The problem was, would Tom Cruise ever agree to play a subordinate to Tom Hanks? Especially in a role designed solely to serve as a foil for the latter?

As for the actual leading role of Captain Miller, Duke would absolutely never choose Cruise. His acting skills were just...

After a bit more small talk, Cruise politely took his leave. Watching the couple walk away, Duke showed no particular reaction. Feuds and reconciliations happened constantly in Hollywood. As long as the man didn't encroach on his interests in the future, Duke simply didn't have the time or energy to stay tangled up with an actor.

Tossing Tom Cruise to the back of his mind, Duke turned his thoughts back to his new film. Whether it was due to his own preconceived notions or the sheer depth of the impression Hanks's acting had left on him, Tom Hanks was his top choice.

That was right—his new movie was Saving Private Ryan!

Although this film also featured plenty of explosions, it demanded far greater narrative skill. After being tempered by three consecutive productions, and especially following the mega-hit of Independence Day, Saving Private Ryan was the most suitable choice Duke could find.

If his next film was just another exercise in pure sensory stimulation—even if he chose a relatively successful explosion-heavy or visual effects-driven movie from his past life—Duke felt the chances of it bombing far outweighed the odds of success.

A movie was absolutely not a commodity that could succeed through simple replication; it was influenced by far too many factors. Independence Day had pushed Duke to the absolute peak in terms of explosions and sensory thrills, but the only way forward from the peak was down. A director remaining stagnant in one style for too long inevitably led to aesthetic fatigue. Michael Bay and Roland Emmerich were prime examples.

Following the massive blockbuster success of Independence Day, certain films that might succeed in another director's hands would likely fail in his.

As long as the style resembled his past three films, audiences would immediately draw comparisons to Independence Day. Given that special effects wouldn't experience any qualitative leaps in the short term, those preconceived comparisons would easily generate bias. That bias would damage audience word-of-mouth, eventually leading to lackluster box office numbers or even outright failure.

While Saving Private Ryan had its fair share of explosions, it was fundamentally different from films that relied purely on sensory thrills.

Pivoting styles was easy to talk about, but incredibly difficult to pull off. Duke wasn't worried about handling the war scenes; rather, he was a little concerned about his dramatic character moments. Fortunately, directing three films in three years, combined with his prior knowledge and the hands-on experience he had accumulated, would certainly be a huge help when producing this movie.

Then there was Tom Hanks. Although Forrest Gump hadn't broken the $300 million mark at the North American box office just yet, the film was already a guaranteed blockbuster. This wasn't a critically acclaimed but commercially weak movie like Philadelphia; Hanks's asking price was bound to skyrocket. Demanding a base salary plus a cut of the profits would not be unreasonable in the slightest.

However, those were issues for the producers to worry about. Duke had no intention of investing his own money in the film. Riding the phenomenal success of Independence Day, he planned to have Nancy Josephson secure Hollywood's top-tier directorial profit-sharing agreement for this project.

Would that lead to a conflict with Tom Hanks?

The thought suddenly struck Duke. This wasn't the post-millennium era; studios were willing to hand over a maximum of 25% of a film's total gross at most. If both he and Tom Hanks demanded high prices simultaneously, one of them would inevitably have to compromise.

After a moment of thought, Duke set the matter aside for the time being. If a conflict really did arise, it was impossible for him to surrender his own interests. Should Tom Hanks refuse to yield, Duke wouldn't hesitate for a second—he would definitely drop Hanks.

The probability of such an event was extremely high. Tom Hanks was indeed widely recognized as a genuinely nice guy in the industry, but when it came down to financial interests, he wouldn't just back down easily. Moreover, it didn't just involve Hanks himself; it concerned his entire entourage—publicists, assistants, agents, and his whole team. Would those people really just keep their mouths shut?

Everyone was influenced by their surrounding environment.

The movie hadn't even been greenlit yet, making all of this a distant concern. Duke turned his attention back to the party. Nancy Josephson still needed to negotiate the new film project with the various studios, and it all depended on who could offer the best terms.

After Duke finished exchanging pleasantries with Mario Kassar, who had come over to say hello, Sofia asked him curiously, "You're planning on taking a vacation?"

"Yeah." Duke nodded. "I'm leaving the work to Nancy for now. I plan to take a trip around Europe. Are you interested? We could go together."

"Go find your temporary flings," Sofia rejected him without a second thought.

"I'd rather go alone."

Though he really wanted to tour Europe, Duke's plans were doomed to fall through. On the afternoon following the party, Nancy Josephson informed him that they had basically reached an agreement regarding the film adaptation rights for that epic British literary masterpiece. Duke needed to represent Duke Studio in the final round of negotiations and sign the subsequent transfer agreement. Europe was definitely off the table.

As long as the transfer price was mutually agreed upon, negotiations for the remaining details proceeded much more smoothly. After agreeing to pay the film rights owner, Saul Zaentz, a total of $8 million in three installments, and granting the descendants of Tolkien—represented by that London copyright agency—a 7.5% share of the film's net profits, all three parties officially signed the copyright agreement and memorandum.

Duke had finally secured the film adaptation rights to his favorite work.

As time marched into September, Nancy Josephson continued negotiating with numerous Hollywood studios without neglecting the television project she had packaged. Friends, co-produced by ICM and Warner Brothers, premiered on NBC that month. After just two episodes, it had already sparked quite a reaction...

Meanwhile, the North American theatrical run of Independence Day had entered its final stages, and its box office growth rate had slowed to an absolute crawl.