Los Angeles.
March 27, a Monday.
Over the just-passed Easter weekend, Daenerys Entertainment's latest release, Hellraiser 2, had opened on 1,117 screens across North America.
Amy Pascal received the film's opening-weekend numbers first thing that morning.
In its first three days, the follow-up to the Hellraiser series clearly riding the wave of New Line's A Nightmare on Elm Street took in $4.61 million. That put it on par with the original. As a quick-turnaround commercial horror flick, it wasn't built for long legs; the studio projected a domestic total still hovering around $15 million.
With a production budget of just $3 million triple the original's $1 million and another $3 million spent on marketing, a $15 million North American haul meant Daenerys would turn a healthy profit on domestic theatrical alone.
Once the numbers were in, Hellraiser 3 was green-lit without debate during the morning meeting with New World Pictures' executives.
The 61st Academy Awards were scheduled for March 29.
The New World meeting wrapped, and Amy immediately convened another in the same conference room, this time with the team led by Ira Deutchman to finalize Oscar-night preparations.
The Oscars had become a business worth hundreds of millions precisely because everyone involved walked away with something.
For Daenerys, beyond the buzz surrounding nominated films like Rain Man, the ceremony offered prime exposure for upcoming releases such as The Bodyguard and The Sixth Sense. Accordingly, stars including Kevin Costner and Robert De Niro would be in attendance. Even Valerie Golino had been summoned back from Australia by Simon.
Valerie was not only the female lead of the awards darling Rain Man but also the love interest in the year-end blockbuster Batman. Either role made her presence on the red carpet essential.
Burbank, conference room at the Daenerys Entertainment branch.
Close to noon, Amy glanced once more at her memo, then looked up at Deutchman. "One last item, Ira. Simon's Best Original Score nomination, how real are his chances?"
"I've pulled every string I've got, but it's slim," Ira Deutschman said, shaking his head. "Of the five nominees, the other four, David Grusin for The Milagro Beanfield War, John Williams for The Accidental Tourist, George Fenton for Dangerous Liaisons, and Maurice Jarre for Gorillas in the Mist each have at least three prior Oscar nods in music categories. Grusin's on his fifth and still empty-handed; Fenton's on his fourth. They're hungry veterans."
Amy took the nominee list Ira slid across the table. Sure enough, the other four were established giants; Simon was the lone newcomer, and this was his first nomination ever.
Rain Man might be the night's frontrunner, but Amy knew the odds of a debut composer winning were microscopic. She set the pages down. "I spoke to Simon about it. He told me to handle it however I think best, sounds like he's not holding his breath. Still, we should prepare just in case."
"In these situations," Ira said, "someone from the same film usually accepts on the winner's behalf. For Rain Man, that would really only leave Valerie Golino."
"Valerie it is, then," Amy decided. "Find time to sit with her. At minimum, have her prep an acceptance speech."
With that settled, Amy scanned her memo once more, confirmed nothing had been missed, and adjourned the meeting.
That afternoon in Santa Monica there were supporting-role auditions for Pretty Woman, a film slated to begin shooting no later than early May. Amy also had lunch scheduled with Angela Ahrendts, president of Gucci's American division, so she had no intention of lingering in Burbank.
She'd barely stepped out of the conference room with her assistant when Ira caught up, falling into step as they headed downstairs.
"I hear the male lead for Pretty Woman still isn't locked?" he asked.
"Nope." Amy smiled, already guessing what was coming. "The shortlist's with Simon. If you've got someone to pitch, they'd better be exceptional."
Ira didn't hesitate. "We just screened a rough cut of My Left Foot. Daniel Day-Lewis, what do you think?"
Amy recalled Lewis's staggering performance; acting ability wasn't the issue. Before My Left Foot, he'd mostly done romantic dramas A Room with a View, which Ira himself had released back at New Line, and last year's adaptation of Kundera's The Unbearable Lightness of Being.
Still, after a moment's thought she shook her head. "The male lead in Pretty Woman is a corporate raider, Ira. Daniel's aura is far more… artistic. He doesn't fit."
Ira wasn't ready to drop it. "Daniel happens to be in L.A. right now. Amy, how about just one audition?"
The memory of that My Left Foot performance lingered. Amy wavered, then relented. "Supporting auditions are this afternoon in Santa Monica. Four o'clock, I can give Daniel twenty minutes, no more. And final call is still Simon's."
"Thank you," Ira said. "He'll be there on the dot."
Amy smiled. "Your side has Robert Altman finished the Raymond Carver script yet?"
Ira shook his head. "He's delivered an outline. Working title is Short Cuts. But there's no way it happens this year."
Once awards season wrapped and Ira finished distributing the carryover project Ladies and Gentlemen, The Fabulous Stains, his remaining slate consisted of My Left Foot, Driving Miss Daisy, and the Gucci documentary--plus, if opportunities arose, acquiring distribution rights to art-house titles from festivals like Cannes.
Daenerys remained under intense industry scrutiny, however, making acquisitions difficult, at least at reasonable prices.
Leaving the Burbank lot, Amy let her assistant Vanessa drive while she flipped through a script in the back seat.
It was a proposed sequel to a horror title from the old New World library: an adaptation of Stephen King's Children of the Corn. The 1984 original had cost a mere $800,000 yet grossed nearly $15 million domestically--comparable to the Hellraiser series.
The idea had surfaced from New World president Danny Morris during the rollout of Hellraiser 2. Unlike franchises built around recurring icons like dream demons or puzzle boxes, Children of the Corn had no natural thread for a sequel; any follow-up would essentially be a reboot.
In Hollywood, though, profitability trumped logic every time.
A Stephen King adaptation whose first installment had vastly outperformed its tiny budget? A sequel was inevitable.
Amy read intently, jotting occasional notes, until the car pulled up outside a restaurant a short distance from Daenerys' Santa Monica headquarters.
She and Vanessa stepped out. Angela Ahrendts was already waiting; unexpectedly, Valerie Golino was there too.
Catching Amy's puzzled glance, Angela explained, "I spent the morning with Valerie trying on pieces at the Gucci boutique, so we came together."
Amy didn't mind the extra guest. In fact, she'd planned to carve out time to meet Valerie anyway and get a detailed update on Batman's Australian shoot.
The four women settled at a table. Once orders were placed, Amy turned to Angela. "How's everything on your end?"
Since starting earlier that month, Angela had been living out of suitcases, crisscrossing North America. She'd already visited most major Gucci stores on the East Coast; covering the entire continent would still take another month or two.
Her sudden trip to Los Angeles, however, was for brand publicity.
The Oscars had long been prime marketing real estate for luxury labels. Gucci had historically underinvested in Hollywood placement and lacked the necessary connections. Now, with the same ultimate boss, the brand wasn't about to miss the opportunity.
"Sandra Bullock, Julia Roberts, Melanie Griffith, Michelle Pfeiffer, Madonna, Valerie, and Bruce Willis's wife, Demi Moore. Seven actresses in total will wear Gucci gowns," Angela said, unable to hide her excitement. "Plus, Egg has spoken to ABC; we're guaranteed plenty of close-up shots during the broadcast."
Amy started to nod, then remembered something. "No Nicole Kidman? She's presenting Best Art Direction."
"No. I spoke with Friedman at WMA, he said she'd already committed to Dior. He offered a few other names, but their profiles were… lower-tier. So we settled on these seven."
Amy wasn't complaining about the number; seven was actually impressive. Apart from Demi Moore whose fame still largely derived from being Mrs. Bruce Willis, the rest were bona fide A-listers at the moment.
Speaking of Demi, she remained on the shortlist for the female lead in Ghost. Wearing Gucci now was clearly a friendly gesture.
Without Bruce's recent breakout in Die Hard, few people would have noticed his model wife at all.
Privately, Amy leaned toward Michelle Pfeiffer or Julia Roberts for Ghost. Julia, however, was already locked for Pretty Woman and wouldn't be available. Had relations not soured, Meg Ryan would have been strong contender. Even Nicole Kidman now gaining notice for Pulp Fiction, might have worked. The woman did seem to have a lot going on behind those eyes, though.
All things considered, Pfeiffer remained the top choice.
As for Demi Moore, Amy wasn't about to let one red-carpet favor sway casting. As Angela had just implied, plenty of lower-wattage actresses lucky enough to score Oscar invites would have jumped at Gucci. Daenerys had no shortage of such overtures.
"Seven is perfect," Amy said. "I'd advise against adding more. Overexposure isn't good for a luxury brand."
"That's exactly what I've been thinking," Angela agreed. "I'm already planning to pull back a number of counter authorizations. A luxury brand ceases to be luxurious the moment it's everywhere."
They chatted idly for a bit before Amy and Angela turned to the main topic: Daenerys Entertainment's official post-Oscars celebration.
Last year, with few nominations and only Simon's surprise win for Best Editing there hadn't been a dedicated party.
This year was different.
Given the string of box-office hits Daenerys had delivered the previous year, the studio had every reason to throw a lavish event even if it came away empty-handed on awards night. It would serve to thank the many stars who'd helped make those films successful and to nurture relationships for future collaborations.
Amy had already discussed details several times with Sophia. This year's after-party would be branded "Gucci Night." A slew of celebrities would attend, and media coverage would be encouraged.
While luxury brands needed to guard against overexposure, Gucci had been dormant for years and had lost significant ground to Dior and Louis Vuitton in the North American market. This was the ideal moment to reassert itself.
The current strategy was simple: flood the zone with visibility first, then refine and elevate the classic brand's image.
After two final frantic days of preparation, the 61st Academy Awards arrived right on schedule--March 29.
Five o'clock in the evening.
As the red carpet opened, stars began streaming from all corners of Los Angeles toward the Shrine Civic Auditorium, this year's venue.