Beverly Hills.
Inside a restaurant near the Fox lot, Simon was having lunch with Joe Roth, president of Fox Pictures.
It was Friday, August 11.
Daenerys Entertainment had formally signed the settlement with the WGA yesterday. Today Simon had arranged to meet Roth to discuss the first of the ten co-production slots.
Simon had already earmarked more than one project, but he started with Fox because of Rupert Murdoch. The media mogul had called Simon personally more than once about the ten films. Even Janet had mentioned during their calls that Murdoch had lobbied her father on the matter.
Fox had partnered with Simon the past two years on The Butterfly Effect, Dead Poets Societ, Basic Instinct.
All three had been major successes.
Sequels to Butterfly Effect and Final Destination had come out last year, but riding the wave of public curiosity about Simon after the originals' triumphs, both underperformed compared to their predecessors.
Butterfly Effect 2 took in just over $56 million; Final Destination 2 barely topped $38 million. Still profitable, but the steep drop-offs made Fox cautious about thirds.
Without those two reliable horror franchises this year, Fox's performance had tanked.
This summer, their July release Boss on Vacation had limped to just over $22 million so far, hardly a ripple. Last Friday's The Abyss, James Cameron's latest, was an even bigger hole. After Cameron's repeated overruns, the final budget had ballooned to a staggering $69.5 million.
Hollywood films usually rounded budgets to neat figures, $10 million, $20 million, etc. more for optics than precision. Fox hadn't rounded The Abyss to $70 million because the executives simply couldn't bring themselves to do it.
After all, while $50–60 million budgets had become common lately, only Who Framed Roger Rabbit had crossed $70 million and Disney still routinely lowballed it publicly at $45 million.
Burning money could be forgiven if it bought a bomb like Roger Rabbit. The Abyss, however, was shaping up as a dud.
This morning's numbers showed a seven-day opening of just $17.53 million. By comparison, The Sixth Sense in its sixth week had pulled $20.37 million for the frame and held the weekend crown.
Based on reviews and word-of-mouth, Fox now projected only $50 million domestic for The Abyss, an almost certain loss. Yet it was still the studio's best performer among the seven films released so far this year. The next highest was Boss on Vacation's current $22 million; the other six hadn't cracked $20 million.
Murdoch had never been passionate about the movie business—he preferred newspapers and television. But having bought Fox, he couldn't let it languish. He desperately wanted a piece of Daenerys's ten-picture plan.
Since Simon had decided to cultivate Australian capital as his backer, he had no reason to refuse Murdoch. And News Corp's vast global media network would be invaluable for his own empire's worldwide expansion.
Making friends with the Murdoch family offered only upside.
"Sleeping with the Enemy?" Joe Roth flipped open the folder Simon had chosen, skimmed it, then couldn't help saying, "Simon, this one doesn't seem to have much commercial hook. It feels like a low-budget thriller. I thought Death Warrant looked stronger, have you read that one?"
Sleeping with the Enemy was, in Simon's original timeline, the Julia Roberts vehicle about a wife who fakes her drowning to escape an abusive, obsessive husband.
On paper it looked unremarkable, yet Simon remembered it crossing $100 million domestic.
He'd seen the film.
Its success wasn't just Roberts; it was the relentless, heart-in-throat tension that never let up.
So, beyond a seemingly thin script, execution, pacing, suspense, atmosphere, even the score would be everything.
With limited time over lunch, Simon had no interest in debating. He set down his utensils and looked up. "Joe, I'm not interested in Death Warrant. If you like it, feel free to champion it yourself. Let's talk about Sleeping with the Enemy."
Roth gave an awkward smile and dropped it. "All right, Simon. What's next?"
"I've had it evaluated according to my vision. Budget around fifteen million. If we greenlight prep now and everything goes smoothly, we can start shooting in October for a summer release next year. You can start looking for a director and producer this afternoon. I'll have my people reach out to actors."
Roth thought for a moment. "It's a female-driven story. Who do you have in mind for the lead?"
"I read a test-screening review in The Hollywood Reporter. You've got a film coming in October, The Fabulous Baker Boys?"
Roth knew every Fox title inside out. "Michelle Pfeiffer?"
The Fabulous Baker Boys was a musical drama starring the Bridges brothers and Pfeiffer, translated in some markets as An Unforgettable Affair. The title alone suggested something artsy and wistful, with echoes of classic Hong Kong mood pieces like In the Mood for Love.
Simon nodded. "Michelle's acting has matured beautifully these past few years. She can absolutely carry this. And if possible, send me a print I'd like to see her performance early. The review said she's Oscar-worthy this time. If that's true, it'll help our film even more."
Pretty Woman was currently shooting and would wrap before October, but Simon had no intention of pushing Julia straight into Sleeping with the Enemy. Jumping from Cinderella romance to battered wife felt too jarring; he wasn't sure audiences would buy it.
Michelle Pfeiffer had just turned thirty-one, entering her acting prime. An Oscar nod next year for Baker Boys would elevate her further perfect timing for this role.
If anyone else asked for a print, Roth might have hedged. But he agreed readily. "I'll have a copy sent to Daenerys headquarters this afternoon."
Simon nodded, satisfied, then added, "One more thing, about James Cameron. I hear he's finished the script for Terminator 2. Fox could acquire the Terminator rights and greenlight it. That could be our second collaboration."
Roth's face immediately fell. "Simon, after The Abyss, even if I wanted to work with Jim again, the board won't approve it."
"I just said it could count as Daenerys's second project with Fox," Simon replied. "Besides, you only need to secure the Terminator rights and Cameron's script. We don't necessarily have to let him direct."
Roth caught on instantly, though puzzlement lingered.
If Simon believed in the project, why not take it for Daenerys?
Simon saw the question in his eyes and smiled. "I had people approach the rights holders before, it got nowhere. Going back now would just mean getting fleeced."
Terminator 2 had been the 1991 domestic box-office champion in the original timeline, grossing over $500 million worldwide. Naturally Simon had considered keeping it.
But with the ten-picture plan in motion, if none turned into massive hits, the other studios wouldn't stay this excited long-term.
Hollywood's frenzy stemmed largely from hoping for another Sixth Sense-level surprise. Otherwise, after distribution fees, the partner studios' effective share was only about 60%, a $100 million domestic gross became the equivalent of $60 million.
Still, $60 million domestic in this era was nothing to sneeze at.
Excluding last year's breakout, just a year or two earlier that would have cracked the annual top ten. Even over the next few years, only about twenty films a year cleared $60 million domestically, fewer than three per major on average.
Moreover, Simon wasn't planning to pick all $100 million smashes. He needed a few genuine monsters to anchor the slate's reputation.
Letting Fox have Terminator 2 also made sense because its cost-to-reward ratio was lower.
The original had been the first film over $100 million budget. Even kicking Cameron off directing and avoiding the notorious spendthrift Carolco, costs would still be enormous, perfect for sharing.
Lunch wrapped up soon after.
As Simon and Roth stepped out of the restaurant, reporters who'd gotten wind of the meeting swarmed them.
"Mr. Westeros, are you discussing a film partnership with Joe Roth?"
"Joe, can you tell us the genre?"
"Simon, can you really talk to ghosts?"
"…"
The Sixth Sense was barreling toward $200 million domestic.
With widespread attention, the ten-picture plan had become the media's latest obsession. Daenerys's silence for two weeks after the announcement had only heightened public curiosity.
Amid the barrage, Simon's bodyguards quickly cleared a path and ushered him into the waiting car.
Roth enjoyed the attention but revealed nothing, simply telling the press to watch for Fox's official announcements before hurrying back to the lot.
Santa Monica.
Simon had barely settled into his office at Daenerys headquarters when Jennifer followed him in.
"Forbes is preparing next month's new Forbes 400 list. They reached out this morning, fishing to see if we'd provide materials. If possible, they'd also love an interview with you."
Simon shook his head without hesitation. "We neither cooperate nor obstruct. Let them do their own math."
Jennifer nodded, flipped open the folder she carried, pulled out a check, and handed it over. "This leaving it casually on a bedroom nightstand isn't great."
Simon glanced at it, it was the million-dollar check he'd written Linda Carter on Monday.
Jennifer must have found it during routine cleaning of the Palisades house that morning.
He hadn't been back since Sunday and had assumed the woman would cash it. Apparently not.
He set it aside as if it were nothing.
Uncle Buck opened today. John Hughes had flown in from Chicago the past few days for promotion. Simon had a one o'clock meeting to discuss the second film in their contract, though his real goal was to confirm Home Alone.
Time was almost up.
He looked across the desk.
His assistant still stood there, head down, seemingly absorbed in her folder, showing no intention of leaving.
After a brief silent standoff, Simon gave in. "Look, I'm a very suspicious boss. Naturally I have to test whether the cleaning service steals anything. See? Results were good."
Jennifer tilted her head, lips curving in a half-smile, smiling like a curious child waiting for the rest of the story.
Simon sighed, put on his stern boss face. "John will be here any minute. Go make coffee. Standing there like a statue waiting for a pay cut?"
Jennifer shot him a harmless glare, then on her way out delivered her usual little threat: "I'm telling Janet."