Chapter 34: Guns, Cops, and the Phone Booth
The next day at noon, Aaron finally woke up in the hotel bed, still holding Jennifer Connelly close.
"Have I really sunk this far?" he muttered to himself.
Afterward, he dashed into the bathroom for a shower. Once Jennifer had woken up, they had a light breakfast together before he drove her home, reminding her to call if anything came up.
"I'll come back and keep you company in a few days," she said, giving him a hug and a kiss before stepping out of the car.
Back at the hotel, Aaron's phone rang. It was an assistant from Jeffrey Katzenberg at Disney.
"Regarding A Journey of Family, Mr. Katzenberg doesn't see much commercial potential. He hopes you can recommend a script with more marketable elements," the assistant said.
"Commercial elements? Understood. I'll find something suitable. Please extend my thanks to Mr. Katzenberg."
"No need. Aaron, Mr. Katzenberg still thinks highly of you," the assistant added.
After hanging up, Aaron almost wanted to slap himself. Was he really hoping that a Jew like Katzenberg would support an art-house project?
Aaron then made his way to Heritage Entertainment's New York headquarters, housed in an old landmark theater near Times Square.
The Landmark chain was a renowned U.S. art-house circuit, regularly screening independent and foreign films. Heritage Entertainment, owning the Landmark chain, frequently distributed foreign art-house films and occasionally invested in productions.
Back in the Reagan era, the Paramount Decrees had become mostly symbolic. Studios invested in theater chains to safeguard their distribution advantages. Yet unlike the massive multiplexes of the future, most theaters at this time operated in the traditional single-auditorium style. And in the U.S., theater chains were everywhere.
In the third-floor offices of the Times Square Landmark Theater, Guy Martin, head of Heritage Entertainment, flipped through the script for A Journey of Family.
Aaron sat on the sofa, observing Times Square's chaotic scene outside: adult stores, strip clubs, sex-themed comedy bars, filthy streets, poor public security. This legendary crossroads of the world would take years to achieve the status it would someday earn.
"Ah, the script is so warm, focusing on family and kinship," Guy Martin said with a smile. "No wonder Coppola had a good impression of it."
Aaron nodded. "Mr. Martin, the budget for A Journey of Family is around $7 million. Director Giuseppe Tornatore has returned to Europe, and we hope to secure $2 million from U.S. investors."
"Two million dollars?" Guy Martin shook his head. Despite Tornatore winning the Cannes Jury Prize, the cost is still high for an art-house film like this.
"Heritage Entertainment can invest $1.2 million in exchange for North American distribution rights. It's our way of supporting art."
Aaron explained, "Jennifer Connelly will join to play the youngest daughter. She's a beloved figure in '80s American cinema and can draw audiences."
"Two million isn't too much to ask."
Guy Martin smiled. "Aaron, $1.5 million is our final offer."
"Alright then," Aaron said, standing and shaking hands. "Pleasure working with you. I'm sure we'll have more projects together."
"Landmark screens art-house films, but we're never against commercial works," Martin added.
Aaron nodded. "Understood."
Leaving the theater, Aaron walked down Broadway when suddenly a shout rang out:
"Robbery! Someone's being robbed!"
Across the street, an elderly woman screamed, pointing at a young Black man sprinting away with a woman's handbag—clearly snatched moments before.
A passerby ducked into a nearby phone booth to call the police.
Aaron shook his head. Times Square had truly become a haven for criminals. "Good thing no guns were involved," he muttered.
"Guns!" The thought struck him. He turned sharply and fixed his gaze on the phone booth.
Guns, Phone Booths, and the Police
Guns. Phone booths. Police.
Aaron thought about the future classic low-budget Hollywood thriller Phone Booth: a man trapped inside a phone booth receives a threatening call—he cannot leave, or he will be shot.
A hidden sniper, the man under threat, the police brave enough to respond, and the hero's wife—all confined to a single, simple location. Few characters, a minimal set, easy to film, relying entirely on the story's originality and tension.
Aaron had long wanted to develop the script for Ghost himself, but unfortunately, the production costs would never fall within a range he could accept.
Even Pretty Woman had a budget of $15 million. Ghost would require additional spending on ghostly visual effects, making it far more expensive than Pretty Woman.
"This idea needs to be implemented as soon as possible," Aaron thought, quickening his pace.
He needed to find a screenwriter to adapt his concept into a proper script—fast.
However, before that, after returning to the Ritz Hotel on Fifth Avenue, Aaron called Giuseppe Tornatore in Italy to update him on A Journey of Family. With a five-hour time difference between New York and Italy, it was already evening in Italy.
"Thank you, Aaron. I'll start filming A Journey of Family in Sicily next month, then move on to Rome, Milan, Turin, and Florence," Tornatore said cheerfully. "Jennifer Connelly's role will mostly be in Milan—should be done in about two weeks."
Tornatore's upbeat tone suggested that the financing process for A Journey of Family was progressing smoothly.
"Great. I'll bring Jennifer along to Italy, then," Aaron said.
Since Jennifer was eager to take on roles, and A Journey of Family was likely headed for Cannes or Venice, it would be a good experience for her.
With A Journey of Family on track, Aaron grabbed a pen and paper to outline his idea for Phone Booth. He just needed to draft the basic story; a screenwriter could polish it later.
After all, even Quentin Tarantino, who barely understood grammar and vocabulary, managed to write scripts. Aaron knew he could handle it—the details might be rough, but the core idea was what truly mattered.
If Aaron remembered correctly, Phone Booth would eventually earn nearly $100 million worldwide. That was after the turn of the millennium, when the film market had roughly doubled. At this time, North America's annual box office was only $4 billion—so the numbers would be smaller—but a global total of $40–50 million seemed reasonable for this period.