Chapter 262: You Will Become a Top Superstar

Manhattan was the place Hollywood movies most loved to destroy. The 1994 film Independence Day had turned it into a sea of fire before leveling it to the ground. Three years later, another film had its sights set on the location. Sony Entertainment's TriStar Columbia Pictures decided to drop a monster from Japan right into Manhattan, using the severe destruction of the world's financial center to highlight the creature's terrifying power.

Chaos reigned near the Brooklyn Bridge as the crew filmed intensely under the supervision of municipal officials.

Standing on the terrace of a nearby building, Shinobu Ohga frowned as he looked at the blond German director behind the camera.

"Michael, are you sure Director Emmerich won't mess this up?" he asked the man beside him.

The man standing beside him was Michael Ovitz, newly returned to the talent agency business. After the bitter lesson of his failure at Disney, Ovitz had founded the Artists Management Company. Leveraging his massive network and mastery of packaged deals, he had spent months securing the major production of Godzilla from TriStar Columbia Pictures.

No one dared underestimate Michael Ovitz's return to the familiar talent agency industry. Aside from the Godzilla project, he had also poached Martin Scorsese—one of the four major directors—from CAA. The momentum behind the Artists Management Company's rapid rise was staggering.

"Ohga..." Michael Ovitz was as confident as ever. "I assume you've seen Roland's previous works—Moon 44, Universal Soldier, and Stargate. It's not hard to figure out his directing style. He is a director who is equally obsessed with and skilled at handling massive special-effects scenes!"

"If we could have hired Duke Rosenberg, this movie would already be half a success!" Shinobu Ohga muttered.

Michael Ovitz did not refute this. Instead, he nodded in agreement.

"That's true. When it comes to destroying a city on film, no one in all of Hollywood can compare to Duke Rosenberg. But he already rejected you! Believe me, Ohga, besides Duke Rosenberg, Roland Emmerich is absolutely the best director in the world at destroying the Earth!"

Shinobu Ohga knew very well that hiring Duke was an absolute impossibility. While Roland Emmerich's previous three films weren't considered massive blockbusters, their profits were quite substantial compared to their budgets. Back in the day, Michael Ovitz had assisted Sony Entertainment in acquiring Columbia Pictures, and Sony's senior executives trusted his vision and abilities enough to hand this packaged project over to him.

Even though Martin Scorsese had joined the Artists Management Company, Michael Ovitz knew very well that if his company wanted to truly rise in Hollywood, it needed a massively successful project. He had spent nearly three months in the first half of the year just to secure this film, and he had even brought on Stan Winston—Hollywood's top model master, who had joined Digital Domain—to design and create the special effects for Godzilla.

Even if the Artists Management Company wouldn't actually earn much of a commission, he still had to ensure the project's success.

"Are you certain the film will make it in time for next year's Summer Season?" Shinobu Ohga asked.

"I've spoken with Roland," Michael Ovitz said confidently. "He will finish all production on the film by April at the latest. Sony Entertainment can absolutely mobilize its media resources and start drumming up publicity for it."

He then stressed his point.

"Ohga, why has Duke Rosenberg been so consistently successful these past few years? Especially with a niche genre like Chicago—how did it sell so well? It's because under his push, Warner Brothers placed a massive emphasis on marketing. The production budget for Chicago was only $25 million, yet they poured $15 million into publicity and distribution! And what about other films from that same period? Many movies with a $50 million budget didn't even have such a high marketing budget!"

Shinobu Ohga gave a slight nod. In truth, the marketing budgets for films released in this year's Summer Season had clearly risen to a whole new level compared to the past.

"If Duke Rosenberg picking up a camera makes him a successful director," Michael Ovitz continued, "then when he puts it down, he is absolutely a standard businessman. His marketing tactics stoop lower than ninety-nine percent of the directors in this world. His skin is definitely thicker than those vampires on Wall Street!"

"Therefore, Sony must roll out more effective plans for its publicity campaign!" he emphasized.

Having said that, Michael Ovitz turned toward the Empire State Building. Over there, a project from CAA—once his own empire, now a fierce competitor in the talent agency industry—was currently filming.

Judging by the announced release dates, their rival's film was also scheduled for a May release, two weeks ahead of Godzilla.

Under normal circumstances, being separated by a weekend meant there wouldn't be overly fierce competition between the two. But now, it seemed other films were actively avoiding these two super-blockbusters, steering clear of that middle weekend. Instead, they were piling up to fight over the Memorial Day release window. Perhaps he needed to figure out a way to suppress the hype surrounding CAA's packaged project, lest it impact Godzilla!

Although the man in charge of that project was Martin Bob—his old friend and former right-hand man—that fact did nothing to stop the reality of their competition.

Many people in Hollywood probably didn't want the other party's project to succeed either. The reason was very simple: it was a DreamWorks project. Anyone could see the lofty ambitions of the DreamWorks Big Three, but the traditional powers of Hollywood would never just sit back and watch DreamWorks rise. Just as they had several times in history, they would absolutely never tolerate a new company coming in to snatch the biggest piece of the pie.

Even if DreamWorks had Steven Spielberg, the most popular director in Hollywood.

At that very moment, Steven Spielberg was standing alongside Martin Bob on the observation deck of the Empire State Building, watching the female director Mimi Leder nervously coordinate the crew.

Although he disliked Martin Bob, Steven Spielberg didn't show it on his face. As a seasoned veteran who had fought his way through Hollywood for many years, he naturally understood the simple truth that personal feelings couldn't be mixed with business.

Martin Bob glanced at Spielberg. DreamWorks's initial film slate hadn't gotten off to a smooth start. The first film they financed, Amistad, had ended in failure. The commercial revenue of The Peacemaker and Spin City, released around the same time, had also fallen far short of expectations. Meanwhile, Spielberg's massive hit this year, Jurassic Park 2: The Lost World, had little connection to DreamWorks. The lofty ambitions of the Big Three had been met with severe setbacks right from the start.

If it weren't for those setbacks, he wouldn't have been able to pull the strings to bring Deep Impact under his wing as a packaged project.

Although he had run into some trouble at CAA, no one could ignore CAA's formidable power in the industry, nor could they ignore the resources he could mobilize as its shot-caller.

Martin Bob believed that with Spielberg serving personally as the producer and with his own full support, this film—which belonged to the hottest current genre of sci-fi destruction—had an infinitely high chance of success.

"My original idea..." Steven Spielberg suddenly spoke up, "was to get Duke to direct this film. Unfortunately, he rejected me, and he rejected George as well..."

"What a shame!"

Contrary to the rumors of him being a pawn of CAA, Spielberg completely ignored Martin Bob's expression. It was clear he merely viewed him as service staff.

"If we had Duke on board, Deep Impact would have at least a seventy percent chance of being a massive hit," he said, speaking entirely to himself.

Instead of refuting Spielberg's words, Martin Bob hurriedly nodded in agreement.

"After Duke Rosenberg's Independence Day, the theme of how to destroy the Earth has become one of the guaranteed recipes for success for major Hollywood blockbusters."

He didn't like Duke, but he had to admit the truth of it.

There was no harm in admitting it. Martin Bob was clearly trying to curry favor with Spielberg. Right now, he lacked heavyweight clients. If he could win Spielberg over, he would do more than just nod along with his words—he'd be willing to stick out his ass and dance just to make him happy, much like Michael Ovitz once had.

Thinking of Michael Ovitz, Martin Bob gazed toward the Brooklyn Bridge. Michael Ovitz's return and his lightning-fast poaching of Martin Scorsese from CAA had cost Martin Bob immense face. It had even become fresh ammunition for Eno Martin and Pat Kingsley to attack him.

The moment Michael Ovitz reached his hands into CAA, he had encroached upon Martin Bob's interests. Any prior relationship between the two had completely vanished. Perhaps it could mend in the future, but right now, they were strictly competitors!

Besides, creating such a fierce rival for CAA wasn't entirely without its benefits. It would fully consolidate his position and temporarily force the neutral factions within the company to unite against an external enemy—even if that enemy was the former titan of CAA!

An external enemy was often the best way to ease internal conflicts.

Ever since Michael Ovitz stepped down, there had been voices within CAA questioning Martin Bob's abilities. Now, the two packaged projects were set for an indirect collision at the start of next year's Summer Season. In Martin Bob's eyes, this was actually an opportunity to prove himself. If Deep Impact ended up completely crushing Godzilla in box office, critical reception, and commercial performance, it would serve as indirect proof of his competence. Moreover, a total victory would win him even more support.

Why did a faction of shareholders support Eno Martin? Simply because they believed CAA could yield greater profits under his leadership. As long as Martin Bob proved he could do better, Eno Martin's camp would naturally fracture.

Martin Bob didn't possess ambitions as grand as Michael Ovitz's. He didn't believe he was the behind-the-scenes emperor of Hollywood just because the tabloids hyped him up. What he wanted most was to take complete control of CAA, then marshal every ounce of power at his disposal to brutally suppress the director who had humiliated him time and time again.

Of course, if the man was willing to lower his head and join his roster, he would welcome him with open arms.