Chapter 140: New Project

After a long theatrical run, box office growth for Independence Day had slowed to a crawl, but it was still stubbornly climbing.

In North America, the film's theater count had shrunk to 211. With a cumulative gross of $339.77 million, it continued its arduous but tenacious march toward the $350 million mark.

Overseas, as the film landed in its final major markets, the international box office finally broke the $400 million barrier. The global box office totaled $742.15 million. Surpassing $800 million and claiming the number two spot in film history was just around the corner.

Indeed, Independence Day had only one rival left ahead of it at the global box office: Steven Spielberg's Jurassic Park. Not only had that film crossed the $900 million threshold worldwide, but it was still playing in a few remote overseas regions, continually pushing the highest box office record in film history even higher.

Catching up to Jurassic Park would be a monumental task for Independence Day.

However, even with its current numbers—combined with the successive triumphs of Speed and The Rock—Duke had already earned his place in the upper echelons of Hollywood. Any proposal he made would now be taken seriously.

After Nancy Josephson met with Walt Disney's representatives a few times and reached a private consensus, Walt Disney offered terms that outright exceeded those from Warner Brothers and Twentieth Century Fox. Duke also subtly indicated a strong interest in working with the Mouse House. After much deliberation, Warner and Fox ultimately decided to absorb Disney's investment, forming a joint production entity among the three studios.

By October, the Saving Private Ryan project had successfully passed the review process at all three companies. Just as with Independence Day, while a script was a fundamental requirement for film production, it held little value on its own. The main reason the three studios rushed through their preliminary reviews and initial research as fast as procedure allowed was the director leading the project and his proven track record.

The completed review meant Saving Private Ryan could be greenlit at any moment. Before that could happen, however, the four parties—including Nancy Josephson representing Duke—had to negotiate the distribution of profits.

At the end of the day, everything else was secondary; profit was the true foundation that brought these parties together to collaborate.

After nearly a week of wrangling, the three studios finally reached an agreement on the investment breakdown. The film's production budget was set at $80 million. Warner Brothers and Twentieth Century Fox would each shoulder $30 million, leaving Walt Disney to exclusively handle the remaining $20 million.

Simultaneously, Warner Brothers and Twentieth Century Fox would serve as the film's overseas and North American distributors, respectively. Walt Disney would hold no distribution rights.

As for whether the three studios would fund their investments through financing or other means, and how their internal profits would be split, that was none of Duke's concern.

All he cared about was his own directorial fee!

Much of that week of haggling had actually been wasted on this very issue. Nancy Josephson's initial demand for Duke—a $20 million base salary plus 25 percent of the film's gross revenue—was undeniably staggering, and the investors had definitely not agreed to it.

Of course, the Duke of today was no longer the Duke from before Independence Day. The salary negotiations were essentially a tug-of-war fought in increments of $100,000 and 0.1 percent. In the end, they settled on a tiered profit-sharing agreement.

His base salary for writing, directing, and producing was $10 million, and his profit participation was no longer limited to the box office, extending into merchandising as well.

On the box office side, $150 million was the baseline for his cut. Thanks to Nancy Josephson's fierce fighting, once the film's global box office hit $150 million, Duke would receive a 2 percent share. At $250 million, it increased to 5 percent; at $350 million, 10 percent; at $450 million, 15 percent; and at $600 million, 20 percent.

Although the cut was capped at 20 percent, if the film's global box office surpassed $600 million, the producers would also pay Duke an additional $5 million bonus.

Merchandising had always been a restricted area for film studios; unless you were a top-tier actor or director, you could forget about taking a share. Unlike box office cuts, merchandising shares generally yielded limited short-term revenue, but they were a long-term meal ticket.

As long as the film continued to generate income, the person entitled to the share would receive a steady stream of revenue. Even after their death, it could be passed on to a designated heir as part of their estate.

For merchandising, Nancy Josephson had secured a 6 percent cut for Duke. While the percentage might seem small, this wasn't a share of the net profits, but a cut of the film's gross merchandising revenue!

Perhaps this directorial agreement still fell short of Steven Spielberg's contract for Jurassic Park, but it was absolutely one of the top compensation packages in Hollywood.

After all, just last month, Twentieth Century Fox and Paramount Pictures had signed a directorial contract with James Cameron. The set tyrant's base salary for his new project was a mere $8.5 million, with a box office cut of just 15 percent—and that wasn't a cut of the gross, but a share of the net box office profits.

Duke's and James Cameron's contracts directly reflected the performance of their most recent works. A Hollywood director's greatest asset was their commercial success. Relative to its massive investment, the box office for True Lies wasn't considered outstanding. Combined with Cameron once again demanding a production budget of over a hundred million dollars for his new film, this had led to a drop in his personal compensation.

This was also one of the reasons Twentieth Century Fox had agreed to let Walt Disney participate in Duke's new project. The investment required for James Cameron's ship was a bit steep, and even if it could be resolved through financing, Fox still felt the strain.

Originally, upon hearing that James Cameron's new project was about to launch, Duke had considered tossing some money into the ring once his Independence Day shares arrived, but he eventually abandoned the idea.

The final investment required for that big ship was truly terrifying; the small cut he could toss in wouldn't even make a splash. Furthermore, it was only 1994 right now. When would the film actually be released? Late 1997!

By the time the film finished its theatrical run and he received his cut, it would likely drag on into 1999. Tying up such a large sum of capital for a long period in a project where he had almost no say was absolutely not a wise choice, even for someone like Duke who knew next to nothing about finance.

Per the agreement, Duke's team members would all join the crew to take on the roles they excelled at. The only difference from Independence Day was that Sofia Coppola would no longer be an assistant director; she was stepping up as an associate director and one of the film's executive producers.

Her goal had never been to serve as Duke's assistant long-term, but to transition into a true film director once she had accumulated enough experience.

Duke now needed to hire a personal assistant to take over Sofia Coppola's old position. Just like finding a suitable head of public relations, he simply dumped the entire task onto Sofia to handle.

In mid-October, Saving Private Ryan was officially greenlit. While communicating with the producers regarding the film's pre-production, Duke inevitably had to attend some necessary promotional events. After all, given the level of investment, it was fundamentally still a commercial blockbuster.

Following the establishment of D-Day Studio as a shell company, Duke shifted his focus entirely to pre-production.

"Duke,"

Because Jon Landau had gone off to partner with James Cameron, Fox had sent over a new producer named Lynch, who said, "Twentieth Century Fox's $10 million in preliminary funds has already arrived in the AIA Insurance Company's account."

"The first installments from Warner Brothers and Walt Disney have also cleared."

The speaker was Charles Roven, who was continuing in his role as the film's first unit production manager. "We have enough startup capital."

Hearing this, the financial officer from the AIA Insurance Company sitting at the far end of the conference table nodded but didn't say anything. As a third party, his most important job was to monitor, not to make suggestions.

"Good."

Duke sat at the head of the conference table, his eyes sweeping over everyone present. "We will now discuss the priorities for our upcoming work."

For his past two consecutive films, Duke had used the exact same team. He had given them a heads-up in advance, and the facts had already proven that following him meant better income and brighter prospects. After D-Day Studio sent out the invitations, this familiar crew of behind-the-scenes personnel—handling lighting, props, sets, art direction, and more—arrived as quickly as possible.

"Joss..." Duke's gaze turned to the head of the pyrotechnics department. "This is a documentary-style World War II film. We have to abandon those exaggerated explosion methods."

"I understand," Joss William immediately replied. "My men are currently researching World War II weaponry and explosives. I'll definitely give you a satisfactory result."

"Robin, out of the exterior locations you suggested, I think Ireland is the most suitable."

It couldn't be helped. A few days ago, Robin Grande had called the British Government, but they had refused the request to dispatch an army to assist with the shoot. The Irish government, on the other hand, had agreed to provide the crew with a force of around 800 troops to help with filming, on the condition that the production hired locals for miscellaneous crew positions.

In truth, this wasn't hard to grasp. Ireland, with its relatively struggling economy, had a greater need for the thousands of jobs the production could potentially bring in. The Kingdom of Great Britain, meanwhile, had never paid much mind to Hollywood.

"Chris..." Duke addressed another executive producer. "Leave as soon as possible for the military museums in Europe. I want two to three Tiger Tanks. If you can't find original models, go to Russia, buy a couple of old tanks, and we'll modify them ourselves."

For Hollywood professionals, modifying other types of tanks to look like Tiger Tanks was hardly a difficult task.

Next, the others who had read the script also voiced their opinions. Preparation meetings like this existed explicitly to resolve issues. The crew needed to reach a basic consensus as quickly as possible so they could all push in the same direction.

"Right, Duke."

Charles Roven asked, "Have you thought about a specific release date for the film?"

"What do the producers and distributors suggest?" Duke asked in return, instead of answering.