Chapter 24 – For Publicity?
With The Hollywood Reporter, Los Angeles Times, Premiere, Variety, and other outlets suddenly publishing news about a betting dispute between Warren Beatty and a young CAA agent, the two Disney films—Pretty Woman and Dick Tracy—immediately shot to the top of entertainment headlines.
Inside Jeffrey Katzenberg's office at Disney:
"You've got some nerve, daring to put a seasoned star like that on the spot," Katzenberg said with a mix of amusement and approval.
Of course, he was pleased. This stunt automatically boosted the publicity for Pretty Woman, riding on the media heat generated by Dick Tracy. After all, a blockbuster adaptation of a popular comic, starring an Oscar-winning director, a Best Actor, and a global pop sensation couldn't be outshone by a modest romantic comedy.
Aaron had also seen the newspapers, though they mentioned him only briefly. The headlines focused mostly on Warren Beatty. Still, Al Pacino's involvement in Pretty Woman was a minor news highlight.
For someone like Aaron, a relative nobody, even a tiny appearance in the news was rare.
"I have to admit," Katzenberg continued, "this kind of publicity strategy is actually quite effective."
Aaron smiled. "Mr. Katzenberg, you really think I'm doing this just for movie promotion?"
"Oh? Isn't that what this is about?"
Katzenberg looked puzzled. Could the box office for Pretty Woman really surpass Dick Tracy?
"Dick Tracy is just an ordinary script. How could it possibly compete with the project I've backed? Warren Beatty is nothing but a womanizer. Two years ago, The City Slept—everyone remembers how that went."
Aaron shook his head. "New Hollywood doesn't have a place for stars like them anymore. Audiences watch their films for nostalgia at best. Young people today don't care about old men pining over outdated romances."
"The younger generation wants to see Arnold Schwarzenegger and Sylvester Stallone in brutal fistfights, Bruce Willis and Mel Gibson's invincible heroics, Tom Cruise's charm and good looks. These old Hollywood studs? Nobody cares anymore."
America's new generation craved individuality, freedom, rebellion—they followed new ideas and trends.
"As long as you're confident, that's enough," Katzenberg said. He didn't care about the personal drama; both films were Disney projects, and the buzz alone was beneficial.
Aaron had no worries about Beatty interfering with Disney's films—this was a billion-dollar publicly traded conglomerate.
That evening, Aaron met Nicole Kidman and producer Steven Ruther at a Hollywood bar.
"Aaron, you're really taking this far, aren't you?"
As the producer of Pretty Woman, Ruther was thrilled to see the film's buzz skyrocket.
Aaron rolled his eyes. "Do they really think I'm just chasing headlines? I'm speaking the truth!"
"Warren Beatty even said in an interview that you're just chasing publicity," Nicole Kidman, sitting in Aaron's lap, reminded him.
Aaron blinked. "So now nobody believes the truth anymore?"
"Who wants to watch a fifty-something, wrinkled, sagging old man try to act cool? Warren Beatty is no longer the young star he once was. His face looks like a spitting image of Richard Nixon!"
Even if Dick Tracy succeeded as a film, it couldn't compete with Pretty Woman. Audiences wanted action, youth, and charm—not nostalgia for old Hollywood.
Ruther smiled. "Well, we'll see when the film hits theaters next year."
After Ruther left, Nicole looked concerned. "Aaron, aren't you being a bit impulsive this time?"
Aaron grinned. "Don't worry. Sex, Lies, and Videotape releases in August. That low-budget film will surprise everyone with its box office. Then you'll see just how precise my judgment is."
"Hmm… Australia's producers want me to star in a teen romance they're making, but not as the lead. Should I do it?" Nicole asked.
Aaron shook his head. "Australian films? That's just a waste of time."
"Next, we head straight to New York. Let's secure the lead actress for Wild at Heart, and then you can focus on preparing the film," he continued.
"This art-house project has serious award potential."
Meanwhile, in Warren Beatty's Beverly Hills mansion, newly minted Oscar winner Dustin Hoffman emerged from a bedroom, disheveled, holding a young model.
On the sofa, Beatty lounged naked, a cigar dangling from his mouth. Seeing Hoffman's expression, he smirked. "Satisfied?"
Hoffman nodded. "Kind of… feeling a bit off today. Not sure why."
Beatty laughed. "Nothing to worry about. Our old friend, the playboy, is always looking for ways to liven things up. Never fails."
"Still upset about that young CAA agent the other day?" Beatty asked.
Pouring himself a glass of whiskey, Hoffman shrugged. "Young people getting a bit cocky after a small success… do you really think Ovitz would let us be upset over him?"
Beatty, of course, was angry. After all, he'd been nominated for Best Actor and had won Best Director at the Oscars. And yet a rookie Hollywood agent had dared to challenge him face-to-face?
"Hmph. Just showing off to the crowd. But Pretty Woman? That's Jeffrey Katzenberg's favorite at Disney—there's nothing we can do about it."
Hoffman smiled. "Relax. Can a low-budget romantic comedy really compete with a gangster blockbuster like ours?"
Still, Beatty knew he needed a hit. Hollywood had almost no room left for him. Years without a successful project, and his comeback two years ago with The City Slept, which he directed and starred in, had bombed both critically and commercially.
It was no wonder the new generation of Hollywood didn't give him much respect. After all, Hollywood worships results.
Hearing Hoffman's words, Beatty nodded. "If it weren't for Dustin Hoffman's involvement, Disney wouldn't have even given us a $47 million budget for Dick Tracy."
"It's a shame," Beatty continued. "I had originally thought of casting Al and you as the quirky gangster duo—it would have attracted a lot of attention!"
Now, they'd have to find another option.