Under normal circumstances, a Sunday night wasn't ideal for a party, Monday was a workday, after all.
Tonight, though, was different.
Lethal Weapon 2, in its fifth weekend for Warner Bros., had officially crossed the $100 million mark at the domestic box office after Friday and Saturday's haul. The celebration had been deliberately scheduled for tonight.
This was Warner Bros.' first homegrown film to hit nine figures in North America since Joe Dante's Gremlins five years earlier, so the party at the Beverly Hills Hilton was lavish. Even with the intense legal wrangling between Time Inc., Warner Communications, and Paramount Communications over the merger, Steve Ross had still flown in from the thick of it to attend.
Not only that, word was that at a private luncheon for the film's key creatives earlier in the day, Ross had personally handed each of them the keys to a very expensive sports car.
That kind of generosity was exactly why Warner had managed to keep so many top talents loyal. "Old cowboy" Clint Eastwood had shot exclusively for Warner the past decade. Steven Spielberg, Barbra Streisand, Cher, all were close personal friends of Ross.
Simon had only agreed to come after Ross called twice with warm, insistent invitations he couldn't refuse.
Ever since Daenerys Entertainment announced its ten-picture co-production slate, Simon wasn't sure if he'd become the most powerful person in Hollywood, but he was certainly the most invited. One only had to look at the extravagance Warner was lavishing on Lethal Weapon 2, a film whose final domestic total might not even reach half of The Sixth Sense to understand the industry's feverish excitement over him.
Because of Simon's requirement that partners supply the scripts, every major studio, second-tier player, top producer, and talent agency had flooded Daenerys with material.
These days, no matter where he was, Simon always had a stack of scripts within arm's reach.
The core creative teams for next year's Ghost, Pretty Woman, Dances with Wolves, and Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles were already largely locked in. Yet the announcement of ten new films had sent agents and stars, big and small into a frenzy.
Ten movies meant a lot of opportunities.
Daenerys's track record for turning actors into stars was undeniable. Mid-tier performers were desperate for the chance to break through; even A-listers couldn't stay indifferent.
Hollywood's resources were finite, after all. New faces rising to the top rarely created extra room, they simply displaced someone else.
Inside the Hilton's grand ballroom.
The moment Simon appeared, every gaze in the room swung toward the doorway like compass needles yanked by a powerful magnet.
Steve Ross was the first to approach, bringing a small group with him. He knew inviting the young man who was bound to dominate attention tonight wasn't entirely fair, but he had no choice, he was flying to Delaware tomorrow and had no other window to see Simon.
"Simon, so glad to see you again," Ross said warmly, pulling him into a quick embrace before teasing, "All by yourself? Doesn't matter, we can fix that. Plenty of company here."
Simon returned the hug and asked, "How about you, Steve? Holding up?"
"You know how it is. If I could, I'd love to take a swing at Martin Davis."
Simon smiled. "You'd win."
Ross laughed, clapped him on the shoulder, then turned to the others. "You know everyone. Oh, this is Barbra. She was just asking me to introduce you."
Simon nodded to Terry Semel, Mel Gibson, Joe Pesci, and director Richard Donner, then shook hands with the woman Ross had singled out. "Hello, Ms. Streisand."
"Call me Barbra, Simon," she said warmly, holding his hand a moment longer.
"Of course, Barbra."
They chatted briefly before Gibson and the others drifted back into the crowd.
Ross guided Simon to a table in a quieter corner, signaled a waiter for drinks, then got to business. "I called George this afternoon. The WGA's little investigation into Daenerys should be over now. Have someone reach out tomorrow, it'll wrap up quickly."
Simon hadn't been overly worried about the guild probe anyway, but he nodded gratefully. "Thanks, Steve. So, how's the lawsuit shaping up?"
He meant the three-way merger battle, of course.
Paramount had blindsided everyone in June with a hostile bid for Time Inc., derailing the nearly finalized Time-Warner deal. Time fiercely resisted, and Paramount responded by suing in Delaware federal court to block the merger.
As everyone knew, many major American companies incorporated in Delaware for tax reasons.
From what Simon had followed, Time had recently shifted its offer to Warner from pure stock swap to a mix of cash and stock to fend off Paramount.
At Simon's question, Ross's expression turned confident. "Verdict comes next month. No real problems."
"Then let me congratulate you in advance on becoming head of Hollywood's biggest media empire."
Ross raised his glass with a satisfied smile.
Given the current landscape, Paramount's lawsuit, driven by Time's vehement opposition was almost certainly doomed. And ironically, the litigation had actually improved Warner's position.
Not only had Time sweetened its offer, but its executives, desperate to avoid becoming the acquired party, had made significant concessions on post-merger power structure.
Warner remained nominally the target, but in reality now held the upper hand.
Ross loved discussing business strategy and negotiation tactics; he didn't hide his pleasure as he shared more insider details with Simon.
After ten lively minutes, the veteran mogul finally broached the real reason he'd wanted Simon here. "So, these ten pictures Daenerys is doing. What's your plan?"
Simon had been quietly absorbing Ross's insights into the merger, feeling a spark of understanding. He'd followed the saga closely, hoping to glean lessons for his own future moves. Hearing it straight from Ross deepened his grasp considerably.
All three companies were public, yet the real drivers weren't shareholders, they were executives protecting their own interests.
Paramount's lawsuit, framed as defending Time shareholders, had missed the point from the start.
Time's management didn't care if shareholders gained an extra billion or two. They cared about their own multimillion-dollar packages and retaining control.
Snapping back to the present at Ross's question, Simon gave a wry smile. "I've been drowning in scripts lately, Steve. Seriously, I was reading one in the car on the way here. As for the lineup, it really comes down to the quality of the material."
"I saw the Batman footage this afternoon, Simon. Absolutely stunning. Even though neither it nor Flying Over Innocence has opened yet, I'm certain we're going to have a great partnership. So, ten films. Warner won't be greedy. Just give us two more, how's that?"
"I'm looking forward to working with Warner again too, Steve. But you know it has to be the right projects."
"I get it. Warner's library is deep; pick anything you like. If there's a script elsewhere you want, tell Terry, he'll move heaven and earth to get it. And if Daenerys has IP you're willing to bring to the table, we'll accept even tighter terms."
Simon had already reviewed Warner's first batch of scripts and quietly earmarked a few.
But with the WGA dispute still unresolved, he was playing it cautious and holding off on announcing anything.
Seeing Ross still watching him expectantly, Simon pretended to hesitate before finally saying, "All I can promise, Steve, is that Warner will definitely have a place in these ten. How many, I can't say yet. And even if we don't land any of them, you know Daenerys and Warner will keep developing Batman sequels. Since you've seen the footage, I'm sure you share my confidence."
That was exactly what Steve Ross wanted to hear tonight.
Warner already had two projects with Daenerys; Ross had sensed Simon's earlier strategic intent and worried the young man might spread the rest around to other studios. He'd considered Batman and even Superman and Wonder Woman as fallbacks.
But more was always better.
"In that case, enjoy the party," Ross said, raising his champagne in a toast. He added with a self-deprecating chuckle, "I can already feel a dozen pairs of eyes glaring at this old man for hogging you."
Simon stood to see Ross off. He was about to head for some food when Jonathan Friedman beat everyone else to him and cut straight to the chase: "Simon, have you picked the projects yet?"