1RomanceEB Chapter 146 Paying for Itself
Chapter 146 Paying for Itself
Chapter 146 Paying for Itself
"Screech—!" A screeching sound came from the brake pads!
The immense inertia propelled Coppola forward, sending the last bit of food flying out of his hand and smashing against the windshield.
"Damn it! George! Are you practicing stunt driving?" He gripped the car window, still shaken, his heart pounding.
Lucas took his hands off the steering wheel and grabbed his messy hair: "Francis—"
His voice trembled slightly, carrying an undisguised disgust and resistance: "If the big shot you're talking about will eventually get my movie into Warner Bros., then we can turn back now."
"Have you forgotten '500 Years Later'? Those security guards Ted Ashley sent robbed my editing room like robbers! They turned my hard work into a pile of garbage!"
"I will never let Warner Bros. touch my work again!"
The cars stuck behind started honking their horns frantically, and the constant urging made the already tense atmosphere even more anxious.
Coppola cursed himself for being too talkative; he knew all too well the psychological trauma this experience had left on the young man before him.
"Listen to me, George." He quickly placed his left hand on Lucas's shoulder. "It was my fault for wording. Qin Han is a completely independent operator with access to many major film studios. As long as he approves, we have complete control over where this film is distributed."
With his older brother's repeated assurances, Lucas wiped the sweat from his face and stepped on the gas again.
At exactly 10:00, the Ford sedan stopped in the underground parking garage of Sunset Tower.
The two men, carrying the metal box containing the film negatives, took the elevator directly to the third floor.
In the spacious reception room, Qin Han was already seated on the sofa, while Michael Ovitz, sitting beside him, was fully engaged in his work, with a notebook spread out on the small table and a professional smile on his face.
"Mr. Coppola, I'm glad you're so punctual." Qin Han stood up and greeted him with a smile.
"I've brought him to you." Coppola pulled Lucas out from behind him: "George Lucas. I must say, he's a genius."
Lucas held the metal box, his gaze lingering on Qin Han's face for a moment.
too young.
This Chinese man looked even a few years younger than me, yet he was already chatting and laughing with the big shots on those big film sets.
"Hello, Mr. Qin," he greeted him somewhat nervously.
Qin Han reached out and shook hands with him: This young man could never have imagined that soon he would usher in the era of Hollywood's "industrial blockbuster" and dominate global popular culture with lightsabers and the Force for half a century!
"Please have a seat, you two. Coffee or iced water?" He led them to the sofa next to his.
"Ice water, please. The weather outside is like a giant oven." Coppola plopped down on the sofa without any hesitation, letting Lucas sit next to him.
Michael Ovitz quickly got up, brought over two glasses of water with ice, and then quietly returned to his seat.
"Before we look at this sample roll, let's have a quick chat," Coppola said, taking a large gulp to begin the conversation.
"No problem. Mr. Lucas, last night, director Coppola strongly recommended your work to me. I noticed that your last feature film, '500 Years Later,' had some setbacks at the box office."
Coppola frowned immediately: This is Lucas's biggest failure. What kind of producer would start by reopening old wounds?
"That movie—" Lucas lowered his head, staring at the condensation on the glass, his voice hardening. "It was an accident. Warner Bros. stripped me of my editing rights, dismembering a complete work."
I don't think so.
Lucas abruptly looked up, a flash of stinging anger in his eyes: he thought Qin Han was going to start humiliating him like the other studio executives.
"Warner's editing certainly ruined its pacing, but that's not the reason it was a complete box office failure."
"At its core, this film is about an underground dystopian society. You try to use this extreme repression to explore the alienation of humanity after technological advancement, and to explore the value of resistance and freedom. In terms of its theme, this is a masterpiece with great intellectual depth."
"If this movie had been released ten years later, when people started to panic about distant words like the future and technology, it would definitely have become a critically acclaimed and commercially successful sci-fi masterpiece."
"Released ten years later?" Lucas's wary gaze began to change.
"That's right. You haven't grasped the current social sentiment. Look outside." Qin Han pointed to the bustling Sunset Boulevard outside the floor-to-ceiling windows: "Right now, America belongs to the hippies."
"The public is filled with restlessness and anxiety. They go to the cinema to find an outlet for their emotions, a place where they can temporarily escape the bitterness of reality."
"And you, you served them a cold, hard philosophical feast."
"The cultural core and presentation of the work are seriously out of sync with contemporary American society. This is the fundamental reason why '500 Years Later' was rejected by the market."
Michael Ovitz was still writing furiously, taking notes on the boss's speech.
This was the first time the young man had heard Qin Han analyze a film so meticulously—he looked at his boss with a face full of shock, this perspective was more profound than any explanation he had ever seen from William Morris.
Meanwhile, George Lucas, sitting opposite him, had his mouth agape and was breathing increasingly rapidly.
Before this, all film critics had only two opinions about his work: boring and garbage.
Even his closest friend, Coppola, only patted him on the shoulder and comforted him after the film's failure, saying, "Those viewers just don't understand art."
No one has ever been able to peel back the layers of failure like Qin Han and find the real cause of death for his much-maligned debut!
If it had been ten years later, it would have become a masterpiece!
These words were like a lightning bolt, cleaving through the year-long gloom that had weighed on Lucas's heart, and his eyes once again shone with a fiery light.
Sitting next to him, Coppola took in his younger brother's reaction.
The fat director's worry completely vanished, and he burst into hearty laughter: "George, I told you this agent was different!"
He winked at Lucas, his tone smug. "His taste in movies is way better than those vampires who only know how to look at financial statements!"
Lucas took a deep breath, placed the metal box he was holding on the coffee table, and looked at Qin Han with an eager gaze: "Mr. Qin—" He even unconsciously used a respectful title, "If it is according to your wishes, if I want to tell an epic story about oppression, about resistance, about the pursuit of freedom."
"What kind of presentation methods do you think are needed to better convey the stories I want to tell while also appealing to public sentiment?"
In fact, this is the ultimate problem for all filmmakers: how to balance artistic essence with the commercial packaging of popcorn entertainment?
Michael Ovitz also stopped writing and waited for his boss's reply.
Qin Han leaned back on the sofa, pretending to be deep in thought.
Ten seconds later, he looked up and met Lucas's eyes: "Since it's a science fiction movie, Mr. Lucas, then don't let Earth limit you."
"Let the illusions take flight completely."
"Why confine oppression underground? Replace it with a vast universe! An evil galactic empire that rules over countless galaxies."
Qin Han gestured with his hands in mid-air, as if constructing that magnificent world: "Replace those civilians in white uniforms in the underground world with a group of emotionless clone soldiers wearing white armor and fully enclosed helmets."
"The sense of oppression felt when thousands of soldiers marched in perfect unison across the scorched earth was a thousand times more overwhelming than when a few bald men on drugs were on their hands."
"Where there is extreme oppression, there will be resistance. The conflict is built by the opposition between light and darkness, telling a classic heroic myth."
"A poor boy raised on a remote planet accidentally gets caught up in the story of an interstellar rebel army. Coupled with an ancient and mysterious cosmic knight who can wield supernatural powers connecting the entire universe—"
"I think young people all over America will be screaming like crazy in the movie theater. They'll treat you like God!"
As Qin Han began to speak, the office fell completely silent.
George Lucas gripped the sofa armrests tightly, the veins on the back of his hands bulging.
A vast and boundless universe, full of infinite possibilities, is rapidly taking shape in his mind!
"God—" His lips trembled violently as he took off his thick glasses and covered his face with his hands.
He could feel his soul burning at that moment.
Inspiration was like a flood bursting its banks, almost bursting through his brain.
Seeing the father of Star Wars in a state of high excitement, Qin Han's lips curled into a smile.
"Of course, these are just my humble opinions." He stopped abruptly, pointing to the round metal box on the coffee table: "Our focus today should probably be on this."
Lucas suddenly looked up and wiped the sweat from his forehead with his sleeve.
There was no trace of despondency or inferiority in his eyes now.
He looked at Qin Han as if he were a prophet, and pushed the metal box towards him: "Yes, Mr. Qin. This is 'American Graffiti,' please correct me if I'm wrong."
The four moved to the screening room inside the Sunset Tower.
Michael Ovitz acted as the projectionist, and the 16mm film had a noticeable graininess and somewhat dark colors, but this did not overshadow the charm of the story itself.
Qin Han quietly admired this future masterpiece.
On the screen, a summer night in a California town in the early 1960s unfolds slowly.
The neon-lit "Mel's Drive-in Restaurant" features a variety of stylish retro convertibles cruising the streets.
The confusion, love, impulse and revelry experienced by several high school graduates on their last night before leaving their hometown for college.
The radio kept playing nostalgic rock music, and the young people racing through the streets, the girl whose heart raced because of a single glance—
Everything felt so real, yet it struck the softest spot in the hearts of everyone who had experienced youth.
The twenty-minute sample video finished playing quickly, and the lights on the ceiling of the projection room came back on.
Coppola and Lucas turned their heads at the same time, both looking nervous; this was a fateful moment.
"Qin, what do you think?" Coppola asked tentatively.
Qin Han stood up from his chair, meeting Lucas's anxious gaze, his admiration undisguised: "This is absolutely a masterpiece, I will buy it."
A wave of elation washed over Lucas; this feeling of recognition brought tears to his eyes even more than his commercial success.
But he gritted his teeth and stated his only bottom line: "Mr. Qin, thank you very much for your appreciation. If Han's Film Industry wants to buy it, I have only one condition."
"That means it absolutely cannot be distributed by Warner Bros."
Michael Ovitz, standing next to the projector, frowned slightly.
In Hollywood, a new director with no bargaining power actually turned down one of the Big Seven.
However, Qin Han readily agreed.
"No problem, I completely understand your concerns." He smiled, spread his arms, and gave Lucas a light hug. "I plan to collaborate with Universal Pictures on this film."
Upon hearing the name "Universal Pictures," Coppola was so excited he almost jumped out of his chair.
He knew all too well how deeply the "honeymoon period" was currently in between Hans Films and Universal.
As long as Qin Han intervenes, even if Sidney is short of money, he will definitely be able to set aside some budget to help him complete the film.
"That's fantastic! Qin, I knew I'd made the right choice coming to you! Given your current relationship with Universal, how much do you think Sidney would be willing to pay to make this film? One million? Or one million two hundred thousand?"
He became more and more excited as he spoke: "Actually, we don't need that many. This film doesn't need big-name stars; we can use newcomers. We don't even need to rent a studio; we can just shoot on location in the streets of Petaluma."
"I've done the calculations carefully. If we cut back a bit and shorten the shooting schedule, a budget of $80 will be enough to complete the entire film's shooting and post-production!"
$80 million?
Upon hearing this number, Michael Ovitz, standing next to the projector, felt a chill run down his spine and abruptly turned his gaze towards Qin Han.
Last night, his boss ordered him to use the future profits from "Fist of Fury" as collateral to secure a bridge loan.
The bearer cash check lying in Qin Han's drawer also had a face value of exactly 80 US dollars.
Yesterday, Qin Han told him that the money was to be used to gamble on today's work, but he thought it was just a joke.
After all, who could have known what kind of bet the other party would make? In the end, even the numbers were exactly the same?
Was all of this part of the boss's plan?!
Under Coppola's expectant gaze, Qin Han's smile grew even brighter: "Who said I was going to take Universal's budget?"
Lucas and his companion exchanged bewildered glances, not quite understanding. Not taking Universal's budget? How would they even make the film?
Qin Han walked up to the two men and solemnly announced, "Han's Film Company will cover all the production costs of this film."