Chapter 11: The Beautiful Woman
That evening, after attending the Dead Calm screening, Nicole Kidman went with Aaron to a bar to unwind.
"Look at you now—you're a lot easier on the eyes," Aaron said, glancing at her. Without the tangled "ramen noodle" hair, she indeed looked stunning.
Nicole smiled. "Yeah, I think it's much better. What do you think of my film, Dead Calm?"
Aaron pondered for a moment. "It's a thriller with some sensual elements. Its selling point is… well, you. Don't expect huge box office numbers—it's more about making a mark in indie cinema."
Nicole sipped her drink. "These days, new actresses can only land roles in bold indie films. There's no other way."
Aaron nodded. "Don't worry. Your movie releases early next month. Take it easy. Meanwhile, I'll try to get you a shot at that Disney script!"
"What about your own script?" Nicole asked, still curious about that Ghostly Romance.
"Later this year. I'll see if I can find investors. When I go to Cannes, I'll meet some European production companies."
Over the next few days, Aaron went directly to Disney, aiming to meet Jeffrey Katzenberg, Disney's film chairman.
After three consecutive days of trying, he finally secured a 15-minute meeting at noon.
Jeffrey Katzenberg, 39, was Disney's third-in-command, overseeing all live-action and animated films, as well as television. Since leaving Paramount with Michael Eisner to join Disney, he had revived the struggling studio, making it one of Hollywood's "Big Six." Disney's recent blockbuster success owed much to him.
A workaholic, Katzenberg wielded enormous influence—enough to subtly rival Eisner himself.
"Good afternoon, Mr. Katzenberg," Aaron said as he entered.
"Sit down, Aaron Anderson—the agent who sold Sex, Lies, and Videotape to Miramax for $1.2 million," Katzenberg said with a smile. "So, why are you here?"
Aaron sat without hesitation, taking out an execution plan and handing it over. "I've made some adjustments to the 3000 project. Take a look."
Once Katzenberg accepted the papers, Aaron began speaking.
"I've renamed the script Pretty Woman and removed the darker elements. The story now follows a wealthy man and a streetwise woman spending a romantic week together in a hotel. There are a few misunderstandings, but ultimately, her transformation wins his heart.
"It's meant to be a fairy-tale-like romantic comedy, fitting perfectly with Disney's brand."
What was supposed to be a 15-minute meeting stretched into two hours. Katzenberg even invited Aaron to join him for lunch.
"This film is simple. We don't need big stars, and the budget is much smaller than Disney's Dick Tracy," he said.
Aaron knew Dick Tracy was a gangster epic spearheaded by Michael Eisner, who was a longtime friend and neighbor of Michael Ovitz. Pretty Woman, however, was Katzenberg's project—Eisner barely paid attention.
As long as Katzenberg was on board, production could proceed.
Katzenberg looked at the young agent before him. "Honestly, I've never liked your agency's package deals."
Aaron smiled. "Neither do I. Too focused on piling up stars."
CAA's package deals were all about stacking a film with multiple big-name stars, either to secure high salaries for clients or to get a cut of the backend profits. Films like Rain Man and Dick Tracy were classic examples.
Jeffrey Katzenberg nodded. "Your idea is solid, but this movie's budget tops out at $15 million. Go back and discuss it with your boss. We'll review the project together afterward."
A few days later, Disney officially began adapting the script according to Aaron's suggestions, officially launching the Pretty Woman project.
At CAA headquarters, Aaron visited Michael Ovitz's office.
"You really surprised me," Ovitz said with a smile. "Katzenberg was indecisive before. I didn't expect you to convince him."
Aaron nodded. "Have the directors been finalized?"
"Garry Marshall is attached to direct this romantic comedy. The leads are still under consideration," Ovitz said, glancing at Aaron. "I know you recently signed an Australian actress, but she's too unknown. Disney needs commercial appeal—her chances are slim."
Aaron shook his head. "Do you really think a major star would play a prostitute in a story about a wealthy man falling in love with one?"
"Of course, she'll have to audition. I'll let Nicole try."
"Fair enough," Ovitz said. He wasn't particularly optimistic about the script either—it was too simple, dreamy, and fairy-tale-like.
After Aaron left, Ronald Meyer walked into Ovitz's office. "This young Aaron Anderson… he wants to be a producer, right?"
Ovitz nodded. "He's got the talent and ambition. I heard he even bought a script himself, but no one supported him."
Meyer laughed. "Perhaps soon, CAA will have the youngest producer client in Hollywood history!"
"Yes," Ovitz said. He knew well that if Pretty Woman succeeded, Aaron Anderson could instantly transition into a bona fide film producer.
But could he really succeed? Hollywood was a place where it was all too easy to get lost.
By late March, the annual Academy Awards were held at the Music Center in downtown Los Angeles. Rain Man won Best Picture, Best Director, Best Actor, and Best Original Screenplay, dominating the ceremony.
Yet the glitz of the Oscars had little to do with Aaron. By Katzenberg's orders, he was fully immersed in preparing Pretty Woman.
Casting for Pretty Woman, however, proved extremely challenging. The female lead was a prostitute, which made many moderately famous actresses hesitant. The male lead lacked charisma, offering little appeal to major stars.