Chapter 141: Pre-production Begins

"Given the film's genre and promotional needs, four release windows are suitable." Seeing Duke nod, Charles Roven listed them. "The anniversary of the German surrender in early May of next year, Memorial Day in late May, the Normandy landings in early June, and Independence Day in July."

It was already October. Even though he was directing a mature, cohesive team, Duke felt an early May release would be a tight squeeze. Late May's Memorial Day was actually the ideal North American release window, but the film's production would be incredibly complex. Any unexpected issues could force a delay.

After thinking it over, Duke said, "Charles, hold off on announcing a specific release date for the early promotional phase. The schedule is tight; we have to see how the crew's actual progress unfolds."

"We can do that for now," Charles Roven agreed with a nod, "but we can't drag it out for too long."

"I will definitely give you a confirmed completion date before next year's Super Bowl."

For his past two films, Super Bowl promotions had played a crucial role. Naturally, a Super Bowl halftime commercial was a must for the studio's promotional plan.

With the film's North American release date temporarily shelved, the topic gradually shifted to the cast.

"This is an ensemble piece. I need a large number of actors with strong acting skills."

Duke looked at the casting director and an executive producer. "Zack and Sofia have already finalized the character scripts. You two need to hold a massive casting call as soon as possible."

Duke did not mind who they cast for the other roles, but the actors for the rescue squad and James Ryan absolutely required his final approval.

Compared to a pure popcorn flick like Independence Day, Saving Private Ryan demanded far more acting skill. Furthermore, the main cast would have to undergo military training during pre-production, making it essential to lock in the roster as soon as possible.

"I have two candidates in mind for auditions; send them invitations as soon as possible." Duke was proposing actors for the film's two most critical roles. "Invite Tom Hanks to audition for John Miller, and invite Leonardo DiCaprio to audition for James Ryan."

The former went without saying. Forrest Gump was still screening in North America and Tom Hanks was insanely popular—so much so that many film critics already considered him a favorite for next year's Oscar for Best Actor. The latter was no unknown, either. Not only had he started as a child star, but he had also earned an Oscar nomination for Best Supporting Actor in 1993 for What's Eating Gilbert Grape.

No one objected to Duke's suggestions, though Robin Grande offered a word of caution.

"Duke, Tom Hanks might be a bit of a problem." These frequent collaborators were all somewhat aware of Duke's history. "He's with CAA."

At the mention of the familiar agency, Duke frowned slightly. Still, considering CAA controlled half of Hollywood's acting market, it was hardly surprising that Tom Hanks was on their roster.

"Send the audition invite," Duke said after a moment of thought. "Send Hanks a full copy of the script while you're at it. If he turns it down, we'll leave it at that."

This was Hollywood; no one was irreplaceable. Even though the original Captain Miller had left a deep impression on him, Duke was not foolish enough to limit his options to just Tom Hanks.

If Hanks accepted the invitation, that would obviously be best. But if he refused, Hollywood had plenty of other actors to choose from.

Behind every successful director stood a strong, cohesive team, and Duke was no exception. Through long-term collaboration, his crew had developed a tacit understanding. While there were occasional conflicts among the members, there were no massive clashes of interest. They could readily grasp his intentions, which would make the pre-production process go much smoother.

The crew would later relocate to Ireland, so they were only handling the most basic groundwork in Los Angeles. Everything was proceeding in an orderly fashion.

While Saving Private Ryan was in prep, Duke received some good news: portions of his profit cuts had hit his account.

Perhaps believing that the payouts made during the filming of Independence Day had served as a good incentive, or perhaps because Warner Brothers and Twentieth Century Fox wanted to continue courting such a successful commercial director, massive sums of money were wired into Duke Studio's accounts in mid-October.

Warner Brothers wired over the final overseas cut for The Rock, totaling just over $7.1 million. This meant Duke Studio had turned its $10 million investment in The Rock into over $27.1 million in book revenue, netting a gross profit of more than $17 million. Such a return on investment was considered top-tier, even by Hollywood standards.

The $10 million loan from his mother had long been paid off, but $2.71 million in interest still needed to be settled. On top of that, Nancy, his lawyer, and his accountant had to be paid their ten-percent cut of the final $7.1 million payout, coming to $710,000. All told, Duke Studio cleared nearly $12 million in book revenue from The Rock. Combined with the various directing fees Duke had earned, it was more than enough to cover the $8 million film rights transfer fee for that certain epic masterpiece.

A few days after Warner Brothers, Twentieth Century Fox paid out the first North American box office cut for Independence Day. The baseline box office figure for this cut was $300 million, and Duke was entitled to a twenty-percent share, amounting to $60 million. However, since they were still some time away from the contractual payment deadline, Fox only paid out half of it—$30 million.

It was a massive profit share. If Twentieth Century Fox had not been aiming for a long-term partnership, they likely would have delayed even this half until the very end of the payment window.

He would have to wait for the rest of the North American and overseas box office shares. By Duke's estimates, even at this time next year, Independence Day's box office cuts would not be fully paid out.

Additionally, a portion of his base salary for Saving Private Ryan—$3.5 million—also hit his account.

Duke had truly stepped into the ranks of the multimillionaires, but he was also preparing for some massive expenditures.

For one thing, there was the seaside estate in Malibu. Nancy's assistant had haggled the price down to $8.75 million, and after consulting his lawyer, accountant, and other professionals, Duke decided to buy the property.

As long as the funds were ready, the transfer contract and other miscellaneous tasks would not be a problem. As for remodeling, Duke temporarily dumped the responsibility onto Nancy Josephson, only stepping in to review the final design renders.

On another front, after setting aside enough for daily expenses and the operating costs of Duke Studio, Duke once again braved his stockbroker's "you're an idiot" glare and dumped the vast majority of his remaining funds into Apple stock. He also picked up a small amount of Microsoft stock on the side. For a very long time to come, these would remain untouched assets.

Early prep for Saving Private Ryan was also progressing smoothly. Following the brief groundwork phase in Los Angeles, Duke led the crew over to Ireland. An outdoor lot near Dublin would serve as their main base of operations, and the rest of the pre-production work would unfold there.

While Duke was flying to Europe, many actors in Hollywood received audition invitations. Some actors who had not been invited but caught wind of the character details had their publicists and agents aggressively pushing for a chance to audition.

"This role doesn't have much screen time."

Inside a house in Los Angeles, Leonardo DiCaprio closed the script and looked at his agent. "According to the setup, he doesn't even appear until the final act of the film."

His agent vehemently disagreed. This was an invitation from Duke Rosenberg! Heaven only knew how many young actors across Hollywood were dying for a chance to audition for him.

"This role is crucial!" the agent urged patiently. "Leo, I saw the full script back at the agency. Aside from the male lead, this is the most substantial and important role in the story. The movie is called Saving Private Ryan, and the character you'd be playing is Ryan!"

"The male lead..." Young men were always prone to lofty fantasies.

"The male lead is a middle-aged officer!" The agent shattered his illusions. "Word on the street is that they're inviting Tom Hanks to play the part. You don't get many chances to act opposite Hanks!"

Seeing Leonardo DiCaprio waver, the agent continued to persuade him. "You need to think this through, Leo. The film's director is Duke Rosenberg. How many actors has he made famous? His works have global impact! Put it this way: the line of young actors wanting to audition for Saving Private Ryan could stretch from Beverly Hills all the way to Hollywood!"

Of everyone who entered this industry, how many didn't want to be famous? The agent understood this perfectly. The way he saw it, even if the casting director asked them to bend over and stick their asses in the air, the number of auditioners probably wouldn't drop one bit!

"Leo, you got into this business early on, so you should understand," the agent pressed on, showing no signs of stopping. "If you want to become a top-tier movie star, you have to break into mainstream cinema. Sure, those mentally disabled roles got you an Oscar nomination, but they do almost nothing for your actual career standing. What you need right now is a massively influential, blockbuster mainstream movie!"

Young Leonardo DiCaprio fell deep in thought. Though he was only twenty years old, he had started as a child star and had a fairly profound understanding of the industry.

"A Duke Rosenberg film is a guaranteed blockbuster right now, and you're one of only two people he personally requested to audition."

"Get me a plane ticket to Dublin as soon as possible!"

The agent smiled at those words. Curious, Leonardo asked, "Who's the second person Duke Rosenberg invited?"

"Tom Hanks. He isn't competing with you."

While twenty-year-old Leonardo DiCaprio was prepping for his trip to Ireland, the nearly forty-year-old Tom Hanks was hesitating. He really liked the script and the role. Even though it was an ensemble film, Captain Miller offered plenty of room to flex his acting chops. Most importantly, he saw a deep sense of humanistic care embedded in the script and the character—exactly the kind of theme the old men at the Oscars loved most.

Currently, both the studio and his agency were running PR campaigns. Judging from the feedback, securing an Oscar for Best Actor nomination for Forrest Gump should not be a problem, but actually winning the award seemed a bit difficult. After all, taking home the Best Actor Golden Statuette two years in a row was just too hard.

But the role of Captain Miller was so perfectly aligned with the School's tastes. If he performed well, it was highly likely he would be nominated again. Combined with the Forrest Gump role that might fall through this year, he would have a genuine shot at taking home a second Best Actor Golden Statuette.

At this thought, Tom Hanks looked across the room at his agent—Eno Martin from CAA!