[Chapter 930: The Boss's Taste Was Getting Stranger and Stranger]
The failure of Waterworld wasn't really a problem with the movie itself. Nastassja didn't realize that if it were a small company, William White would have already bought back the rights a long time ago.
At Universal Studios in Osaka, the most acclaimed show was Waterworld. Mad Max followed a similar pattern; the first three installments were just above average, but when the fourth hit theaters, it exploded in popularity.
Not only did this post-apocalyptic movie become a hit, but it also sparked a wave of imitators. Numerous films with similar themes and a flood of books appeared.
Ultimately, the 2008 subprime mortgage crisis was the trigger. The more intense the economic crisis, the more popular this kind of movie became.
Kevin Costner had bad luck. His assassination of Kennedy project flopped completely, and when he regrouped with Waterworld, it nearly bankrupted the bicoastal studio.
That's Hollywood for you, a deep sea of challenges. Buying out a Hollywood giant means nothing; if a movie's destined to bomb, it will bomb. You think everything works like William White Studios? That was just a fluke.
He rose too fast without solid roots in Hollywood. If you want to take him down, you'd better think twice.
Columbia and Universal had solid backing too, but unfortunately, they've already let in Jewish influence, and there's no way they're giving these bicoastal players much breathing room.
If you want to make it big in Hollywood, you have to toe the line with the American mainstream. Sneaking in your own agenda is possible, but only when you reach William White Studios' level.
"George, investment's fine, use my director's salary. As for those special effects, if your price isn't reasonable, I'll go with Pixar."
"Ahem, are you sure?"
"Listen, don't keep comparing everything to Star Wars, okay?"
"Let me think about it; honestly, I'm not mentally prepared."
"I'm paying for script adaptation; even if it bombs, you can say William White's script was bad. Or you can say the bicoastal gaming stuff is trash."
There was no doubt George Lucas would eventually accept. It wasn't that he didn't want to direct -- he was just careful with his reputation. Plus, there was investment backing.
"Harvey, don't have that woman do any more modeling; have her come in for an audition."
"Ahem, okay, boss. I'm sure she'll be very grateful."
William White shrugged, not really concerned. Milla Jovovich was truly the perfect choice for this movie.
What? A pork chop?!
Come on, it was just the movie's styling that was a bit odd, but she definitely counted as a beauty. You know, foreign actresses often don't age well, but Milla Jovovich was still decent even when filming the Resident Evil finale, makeup or plastic surgery notwithstanding.
"Mira, this is a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity. I hope you seize it."
Harvey Berg's words blurred past Milla Jovovich completely. True, she'd done quite well over the years -- a decent indie film and even released a personal album -- but this was really tough.
She was painfully aware of her own looks and hated it. It might sound a bit sentimental, but many directors bluntly said she was too pretty to be more than eye candy.
Of course, being eye candy wasn't exactly easy either. There's no such thing as a free lunch; to get opportunities, you had to pay the price.
This exchange was fair; it wasn't exploitation. Usually, scandals broke out against those who took payment without delivering. Other than that, who would dare go to court?
"Mira, Mira," watching the distracted beauty, Harvey couldn't help but quietly gripe. What the hell was the boss thinking, picking this rookie?
As soon as the Resident Evil project was greenlit, Hollywood agents went crazy. Female-led action movies were rare; that didn't even need to be said.
Forget equality; it didn't exist in the States. Top male action stars made tens of millions per film, but most female stars topped around five million.
And even those were rumors. Producers willing to pay such salaries probably included other expenses too.
For someone like Milla Jovovich, not quite a star, fifty thousand dollars was considered generous. More than that? There were probably other deals.
"Sorry, Mr. Harvey, I got carried away. You know, at first I was just trying for a print modeling gig."
"Hmm, you might not know, but even though we're a new company, we've signed a long-term cooperation deal with Diadona. Lucky you; the casting director didn't bring anything that William White liked, so they were desperate, you know, casting a wide net."
"Mr. Harvey, you mean it was Mr. White who told me to audition?"
"Of course, what else? Bring your agent tomorrow to the White Center and don't be late."
After sending off the excited girl, Harvey smiled wryly.
"Henry, you guys been having a hard time lately?"
"Ahem, it's okay. The boss isn't happy but hasn't blamed me. Still, casting's getting harder and harder."
"How so?"
"I'm no fool; I know how to play to his tastes, but the boss's preferences keep changing. It's really tough."
Henry wasn't a casting director, but if a position opened up, he had a good shot.
So getting the boss's approval this time was more important than anything. Harvey was annoyed, though. Hell, modeling here wouldn't be so bad. If the boss liked her, maybe they could launch a supermodel.
Other thoughts had been cleaned out; William White Studios was relatively clean now.
Of course, the two mostly just complained but got on with the job. If anyone didn't want it, a bunch of people would jump at the chance.
After decades, American society's class system was pretty solidified. It wasn't impossible to rise up, but it was tough.
Getting into William White Studios' management didn't guarantee millions, but middle-class was feasible. Now it was 1996; maybe people didn't care much yet--but after 2008, they'd realize that even middle-class was hard to reach.
Bachelor's degrees didn't count for much anymore. In a few years, even a master's degree might not cut it.
A receptionist with just a high school diploma was fine; no need to waste time.
So many college kids, bored out of their minds. Didn't you see them working part-time at McDonald's?
"Honey, did Lucas agree?"
"Of course, why wouldn't he? I gave him very generous terms, what reason would he have to refuse? You know many directors are willing to lower their salaries."
Nastassja gave him a side eye. This was a series, right? If this one succeeded, things would get exciting next.
She didn't ask about the girl he chose; no point. This kind of thing was common in Hollywood. If it wasn't happening, that would be odd.
Though she was curious how the guy picked an actress out of a model -- but that topic wasn't appropriate right now.
"So, you'll attend the interview tomorrow morning?"
"Yes, I want to see if she's more than just a pretty face. What, you blame me for getting you a vase?"
"You can't deny she's really pretty. I'm kinda tempted myself."
"Stop teasing me. Since when do you like women?"
"Pfft. You like that kind of vibe most."
"Nonsense. My company never had anything like a red sofa -- and hey, aren't you going tomorrow? Planning to watch the reality show?"
*****
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