While The Bodyguard continued its run, post-production on Batman progressed steadily.
The film had recently entered the scoring stage. After weighing several top Hollywood composers, Simon decided to handle it himself. No one in the industry understood the exact sound he wanted better than he did.
Warner's lot boasted the best recording facilities and equipment, so that work stayed in Burbank.
After a busy morning, Simon left the Warner lot and headed to Daenerys's nearby Burbank offices.
It was Friday, June 9.
Ira Deutchman had returned from Europe the day before. Simon joined him and the others for lunch at a nearby restaurant, where he reported on the trip.
"Universal threw five million upfront plus back-end for Cinema Paradiso, North American rights alone. It was an insane offer; I had to walk away. With Tornatore's Palme win, everyone wants his next film. We also disagreed on the script for Stanno tutti bene, so that didn't happen either."
Simon had expected as much. "Anything else?"
Ira smiled faintly. "Given the situation, I picked ten films from the main competition and sidebars, talked seriously with every producer, then sent timed offers, take it or leave it by morning. In the end I missed Too Beautiful for You, which won the Grand Prix, but I landed Jane Campion's Sweetie, all North American rights for three hundred thousand upfront plus fifty percent of theatrical net. And a Swedish film, Women on the Roof, for a hundred thousand upfront and the same fifty percent split."
Simon caught the satisfaction on his face and could picture him outmaneuvering the distributors circling Daenerys.
Women on the Roof was a bonus; Sweetie was the prize.
Three hundred thousand plus fifty percent net was peanuts for a Hollywood commercial film. But Sweetie's production budget, converted, wouldn't top half a million. The New Zealand sellers would recoup most of their costs from North America alone, plus the back-end.
Simon would have preferred an outright buyout, but he knew that wasn't realistic.
Like his own insistence on back-end for Run Lola Run, filmmakers always hoped for miracles. Ira's structure actually lowered Daenerys's risk.
And the split applied only to theatrical; video and TV revenue stayed fully with Daenerys a clean arrangement both sides liked.
Upfront cost: three hundred thousand. Add roughly half a million for marketing. The film needed about $1.5 million domestic to break even.
Simon didn't expect huge numbers,if it hit three million, that was a win.
At that level, Gaumont would turn a small profit theatrically, with solid ancillary income later. The New Zealand side would pocket another three or four hundred thousand in back-end. Everyone happy.
He was about to ask more when he noticed Robert Rehme frowning slightly. "Something wrong, Bob?"
Rem glanced at Ira, then said, "Simon, I just think you're putting too much weight on these small deals."
"These aren't small deals, Bob. Like Run Lola Run and Pulp Fiction, both lean art-house, both massive hits. If I can do it, others can too. I don't expect Gaumont to unearth another Lola every year, but one breakout every couple of years? That's success." Simon spoke earnestly, then added, "Besides, I've never distinguished big deals from small ones. I want every project handled perfectly, that's the standard I hold myself to, and the one I expect from all of you. It's an attitude thing. If someone can't take a three-hundred-thousand-dollar 'small deal' seriously, they won't handle three million or thirty million any better."
With Ira, Jennifer, and New World president Danny Morris present, Robert's gentle pushback left him a little red-faced. He stuck to his view but managed a tight smile. "All right."
Simon sighed inwardly and turned back to Ira.
Before he could speak, he volunteered, "Per your instructions, I also signed Campion for two more pictures. Her next is a biopic called An Angel at My Table, I read the script; it's perfect festival bait. She has an original idea too: a mute woman who ships a piano to New Zealand for an arranged marriage. The script isn't finished yet, so I can't judge quality, but she promised an outline soon."
The piano and mute woman it's obviously The Piano, one of Simon's favorites.
Without a script he kept quiet, chatted a bit more, then turned to Danny Morris. "Danny, how's prep on the Children of the Corn sequel?"
Morris had originally been tapped for Gaumont but dragged his feet on art films; Simon shifted him to New World, the horror/thriller label.
Hearing Simon's emphasis on Ira and his speech about big and small deals, Morris quietly regretted passing on Gaumont.
New World had few projects: Scream 2, Hellraiser III, and the Children of the Corn sequel Simon asked about.
All three were follow-ups to commercial hits.
Success would feel incremental; failure would hurt his career badly.
Mind on that, Morris answered quickly, "Script's done; we're looking for a director. I'm planning to shoot in Australia, should save at least ten percent."
The original Children budget was three million. As a low-budget film, Australia wouldn't offer Batman-level tax breaks. Ten percent meant three hundred thousand saved.
Shooting overseas had been a half-formed idea, but after Simon's words, Morris committed instantly.
At least it showed the right attitude.
Simon was pleased.
Profit wasn't saved penny by penny, but careful spending still mattered.
After a few more exchanges, he didn't leave Robert out and shifted to The Bodyguard.
The film's opening week of $23.63 million fell short of Simon's hopes, especially next to Indiana Jones 3.
Fortunately, the soundtrack was exploding exactly as in the original timeline, giving him high hopes for the film's legs and international performance.
Truthfully, he cared more about box office than album sales.
If the film hit the original's four hundred million worldwide, Daenerys would pocket at least a hundred million in profit over the next couple of years, with ancillary revenue starting after.
The soundtrack's projected windfall was staggering, but the forty-five-million-plus units had accumulated over fifteen to twenty years.
He also worried about this weekend's Ghostbusters II hurting The Bodyguard.
He didn't recall exact numbers, but the thirty-seven-million-budget sequel had easily landed in the year's top ten.
And it matched Indiana Jones 3 and The Bodyguard in screen count and marketing muscle.
After lunch, as the group returned to the Burbank offices, another bombshell dropped.
At one p.m., Paramount Communications abruptly announced a bid for Time Inc. $175 per share, $10.7 billion total.
Time and Warner had been in public merger talks for three months and were nearing closure.
Paramount's sudden move caught both companies flat-footed.
Time immediately rejected the "hostile" bid. Warner quickly voiced support.
Outsiders couldn't grasp all the details, but Hollywood watched closely.
The tangle was entertaining.
In the Time-Warner deal, Time had been the acquirer. Now, with Paramount targeting Time, roles flipped overnight.
Time's fierce reaction stemmed from that reversal.
As buyer, Time executives would retain control of the combined giant and, per rumors Simon had heard, had secured lush ten-year compensation packages, including golden parachutes.
A Paramount takeover would likely boot Time's entire management team; no ten-year deals.
Days of media sparring followed. Paramount soon announced it would sue in Delaware federal court to block the Time-Warner merger, citing shareholder interests.
The Time-Warner plan used stock swaps; Time valued itself around seven billion. Paramount's cash offer of $10.7 billion looked richer on paper.
But with the 28% capital-gains tax, shareholders cashing out would end up with roughly the same after-tax value as the tax-free stock swap.
Paramount's "shareholder interest" argument didn't hold much water.
As an outsider, Simon knew how it would end.
And honestly, he envied the deal.
Warner aside, Time owned HBO, the future cash cow of pay cable. That alone made him jealous.
Time's print business, including Time magazine, was also highly profitable.
But a ten-billion-scale acquisition was beyond Daenerys's reach, for now.
Simon followed it mainly for lessons in future positioning. That future wasn't far off; maybe even next year.
Meanwhile, one week after release, The Bodyguard soundtrack's first-week sales were tallied.
For marketing purposes, Arista and Daenerys had privately agreed to push the number past a million even if it fell short.
Fortunately, the real count came in at 1.02 million. No need to fudge; both companies launched massive publicity around the figure.
In the brutal summer race, new weekend numbers arrived June 16.
Ghostbusters II opened to a monstrous $44.91 million, claiming the weekly crown without contest.
In its fourth week, Indiana Jones 3 held strong at $23.88 million, landing second and pushing past the hundred-million mark to $110.65 million cumulative.
Fueled by the soundtrack explosion, The Bodyguard dropped only 15% in week two, adding $20.06 million for a $43.96 million total.
Though its two-week haul didn't match either blockbuster's opening week, holding that well against two juggernauts and with terrible reviews was remarkable.