Chapter 186: The Crown Princess

Inside a private club on the outskirts of Burbank, Tom Cruise and his wife requested a private VIP reception room. They did not have to wait long before their agent, Pat Kingsley, walked in alongside Michael Ovitz—the former head of CAA and the man who had once topped the Hollywood power list.

The two parties exchanged brief greetings and sat on opposite sides. Nicole Kidman took a coffee pot from the waiter, temporarily stepping into the role of server.

"Tom, how are things progressing?"

Although his situation at Disney was precarious, Michael Ovitz maintained the forceful demeanor of his CAA days. "Is the script finished?"

The Michael Ovitz of Disney was no longer the Michael Ovitz of CAA. Suppressing his rising dissatisfaction, Tom Cruise answered, "I got my hands on Mission: Impossible a long time ago. The script will be finished soon."

Even though he could see the contempt hidden beneath Tom Cruise's polite smile, Michael Ovitz feigned ignorance. His current position at Disney was incredibly awkward. He had intended to make major moves in the CEO seat, only to realize upon joining that a film studio was far more complicated than he had anticipated. Moreover, Chairman Michael Eisner's overbearing grip on power far exceeded his worst expectations. This CEO position was practically a puppet for the chairman.

As the former master of CAA and an emperor of the talent agency world, Michael Ovitz naturally had no desire to be a puppet. But avoiding that fate required real results. Film projects were his specialty, and he considered them the easiest avenue for success. Using his old connections, he swiftly reached out to Tom Cruise. The actor happened to have a project adapted from a television series, and the lead role perfectly fit Cruise's usual style of playing the cool, handsome action star. The two sides hit it off instantly.

As for the disdain and contempt Cruise hid beneath the surface, Ovitz did not care in the slightest. In the past, for the sake of his agency business, he had been willing to play the clown, sticking his ass in the air to tap-dance on a desk. As long as the profit was large enough, Tom Cruise's attitude meant nothing.

Besides, this industry was built on flattering the mighty and trampling the weak—a principle that perfectly aligned with Tom Cruise's usual style. If Ovitz could not stomach something this trivial, he might as well retire.

Both sides held their coffee cups, outwardly savoring the brew, but in reality, they were each waiting for another key figure and calculating their next moves.

Setting down the coffee pot, Nicole Kidman sat silently beside Tom Cruise. Her gaze only occasionally flicked toward her husband's face. She knew perfectly well that Cruise was highly dissatisfied with the director Ovitz had recommended. He had only reluctantly agreed because that young director's style and past box office records were simply too brilliant to ignore.

Suddenly, she noticed Cruise furrow his brows. Guessing what was about to happen, she quickly gave him a gentle tug, but Cruise ignored her warning and voiced his thoughts anyway.

"Michael, why does it have to be Duke Rosenberg? You should know I don't exactly like him."

Hearing this, Nicole Kidman could only sigh. Since they had shown up to this agreed-upon meeting, it meant Cruise had already accepted the choice of director in his heart. Voicing his complaints now would only offend Michael Ovitz for no good reason.

Even if Ovitz was struggling at Disney, who could afford to ignore his lasting influence in Hollywood?

This good husband of hers truly acted like an idiot when it came to interpersonal politics! Both he and Duke Rosenberg had enjoyed smooth sailing in their careers, so why did the gap between them feel so massive?

"Why?"

Michael Ovitz's expression turned cold and stern. "Tom, don't tell me you don't know why!"

A mocking edge crept into his tone. "Forget about his past movies. Let's just look at his latest. Saving Private Ryan has been in theaters for two months now. Do you have any idea what the North American box office is?"

Without waiting for a grim-faced Tom Cruise to respond, Ovitz plunged ahead. "$243.27 million! And that's just North America. Do you know what the global gross is? $421.17 million!"

"If we don't choose a director like him, who do you want? Mel Gibson?" Ovitz asked, his voice heavy with sarcasm. "Do you think the $24.32 million he made with Braveheart would pass the greenlight committee at Touchstone or Disney? I'd veto the project myself before it even got that far!"

The reception room fell silent. No matter how displeased Tom Cruise was, he could not find the words to argue back. This television adaptation was bound to carry a production budget north of $50 million. If they hired a director without enough seniority, how were they supposed to convince Disney or any other studio to invest?

Thinking of Mel Gibson and Braveheart, Tom Cruise felt a deep surge of disdain. He would never work with a loser!

It was not as if he had ignored the box office battle between Braveheart and Saving Private Ryan. While Braveheart had not yet been forcibly pulled from theaters, it was effectively finished. The film was clinging to life in a handful of independent cinemas in New York, Los Angeles, and Chicago—clearly pushing for awards season rather than box office.

He would have to be out of his mind to suggest Mel Gibson as the director for this new project!

Winners!

The word echoed in Cruise's mind. Everyone wanted to work with winners! And whether looking at the past, the present, or the future, Duke Rosenberg was not just a winner—he was among the most successful of them all.

Today, even the most oblivious fool could see that Saving Private Ryan was charging straight toward a $500 million global gross. With Warner, Fox, and Disney throwing their full weight behind its awards season campaign, the film was far more than just a box office success!

Gripping his coffee cup, Tom Cruise fell into deep thought. Should he really set aside their past friction and work with Duke Rosenberg?

It was a question well worth considering.

Completely unlike Tom Cruise, Michael Ovitz was currently considering how to persuade Duke Rosenberg to sign a directing contract. With him attached, the project would breeze through Disney's greenlight process. If it could be like Saving Private Ryan... no, even if it just sold as well as The Rock, he, as the project's leader, would inevitably secure more of a voice at Disney.

As for the other party's conflict with CAA, Ovitz had not considered it at all. Sitting in the CEO chair at Disney made him a natural enemy of CAA anyway.

Where a man sat usually determined how he thought.

A black Bentley slowly pulled into the club's parking lot. Spotting the car, Nancy Josephson stepped out of her own, walked over, and tapped lightly on the window. When the door opened, she slid into the back seat.

"I spoke with Pat Kingsley," Nancy said, looking at Duke beside her. "Tom Cruise and Michael Ovitz have a very clear objective. They want to invite you to direct the film version of Mission: Impossible. What do you think, Duke?"

"You know my plans." Duke shook his head slowly. "I don't change them on a whim."

Mission: Impossible simply wasn't that tempting.

"Why didn't you let me reject them?" Nancy frowned slightly. "There's absolutely no point to this meeting."

"There's indeed no point in meeting Ovitz," Duke nodded. "I came here just to see Tom Cruise."

Anyone with eyes could see that Disney was undergoing a series of complex personnel struggles after bringing Michael Ovitz in as CEO. Duke had no desire to involve himself too deeply in that, especially since the party reaching out to him was destined to fail. Chasing after winners wasn't just for other Hollywood insiders; it applied just as much to him.

Compared to Ovitz, Duke would much rather work with Robert Iger. In their several meetings, the two of them had also been able to find their shared interests.

"You want to see Cruise?" Nancy cast him a strange look. She knew Duke wasn't overly fond of the actor. "Why?"

"I want to invite him to star in my new movie."

Duke opened the car door. Before stepping out, he said, "Of course, our budget is limited. If he's willing to take a pay cut, all that past friction means absolutely nothing..."

For a musical film like Chicago, inherent genre weaknesses were not something a director could entirely solve. A collaboration between a massive star and a renowned director, however, was undoubtedly an excellent promotional gimmick. Just imagine how many eyes a joint movie production between Tom Cruise and Duke Rosenberg would attract?

More importantly, Duke wanted to dig a trap. He wanted to try making Tom Cruise abandon the Mission: Impossible series—the foundation that would maintain his status in the future—and steer him down a completely different path.

It wasn't that he hadn't thought about the rights to this series, but by the time his conflict with Tom Cruise truly escalated, the film rights to the television show were already sitting firmly in the actor's hands.

Duke was just an ordinary person; he couldn't possibly remember everything. For example, he had only remembered the copyright issue for Mission: Impossible because of Tom Cruise. Meanwhile, many film rights or related copyrights in Hollywood, like The Lord of the Rings series, had already been sold off who knew how long ago.

It was not uncommon at all in Hollywood for a script to sit on the shelf for ten or twenty years before filming. For instance, he had seen the relevant registration at the Writers Guild for Dallas Buyers Club, which wouldn't actually be filmed until after 2010. While querying and registering at the Writers Guild, Duke had been forced to abandon several scripts he had planned just to avoid any collisions.

After a few years of working together, Nancy had gained a deep understanding of her employer's mindset. Duke's words didn't surprise her. In her view, let alone Tom Cruise, with whom he had a conflict—as long as the returns were large enough, Duke might even work with his recognized enemies, like Martin Bob or Sean Connery...

Hearing Nancy's footsteps trailing behind him, Duke strode toward the club. How to persuade Tom Cruise to take a pay cut for the role was the question he was currently considering.