"Simon, if you're not feeling that last one, how about this: Danny's a tough, no-nonsense cop on the street, but in front of his domineering, bad-tempered mother he's like a mouse staring down a cat. One day on duty he meets the girl of his dreams, Theresa, and they quickly fall in love. The only problem is Danny's terrified his mother won't approve of her, so every moment they spend together is secretive and overly cautious, which naturally leads to one hilarious mishap after another."
Inside the office.
John Hughes had pitched several story ideas in a row; Simon had remained noncommittal throughout.
After Hughes finished describing yet another concept and they discussed it briefly, Simon said casually, "John, I think Uncle Buck is going to do really well at the box office. Have you ever considered doing a purer kids' movie?"
Hughes shuddered as if remembering something horrific. "Simon, children's films have always been Hollywood's forbidden zone. Shooting Uncle Buck drove that home for me, those kids put me through the wringer. There were days I seriously considered recasting. I really don't want to go through that again."
Uncle Buck told the story of the Russells temporarily leaving their three children in the care of their bachelor brother-in-law, Buck Russell, due to a family emergency.
Per their original agreement, Hughes had full control over Uncle Buck; Simon hadn't been deeply involved in production and hadn't realized there'd been such friction.
It was common knowledge that children and animals were the two hardest elements to work with in Hollywood.
Hearing this, Simon understood why Hughes hadn't come up with the idea for Home Alone.
In the original timeline, Hughes had apparently gotten along famously with the three child actors in Uncle Buck, especially Macaulay Culkin and that positive experience had directly inspired Home Alone. In this version, none of the kids were the originals, and they'd caused Hughes considerable grief during filming.
In a bad mood, the filmmaker naturally had no inclination to brainstorm another kids' movie.
Confirming that Home Alone had been thoroughly butterflied away, Simon stopped circling. "Actually, the idea came to me after watching the Uncle Buck cut. John, I think a project like this would suit your style perfectly. And the concepts you just pitched gave me some additional inspiration, like that one about a young couple working the night shift at a convenience store who encounter two burglars. So how about another children's film? If you don't want to direct, someone else can. Your compensation can mirror Uncle Buck. Only this time Daenerys will need to be involved in key decisions, especially casting."
Their Uncle Buck deal had given Hughes five million upfront plus 10% of domestic gross for writing, directing, and producing.
John Hughes was a shrewd man.
An idea sparked by his own films but developed by Simon Westeros was still Simon Westeros's idea. Just look at Westeros's recent track record, The Sixth Sense alone was barreling toward three hundred million domestic.
And the deal would match Uncle Buck: five million base plus 10% domestic share. Hughes wasn't one of those temperamental auteurs who only made passion projects; he knew he was a movie businessman. He could think of no reason to say no.
"Then, Simon, can you tell me more about your concept?"
Seeing Hughes agree without hesitation, Simon began outlining the basic plot of Home Alone.
He felt no reluctance handing the project back to Hughes with the same generous terms.
Hughes at the helm would best preserve the film's original flavor. And if the new Home Alone matched the original's stunning $280 million-plus domestic haul, Hughes would absolutely deserve thirty million in total compensation.
This decision, too, stemmed from Simon's recent shift in perspective.
The logic was similar to the ten-picture co-production plan. Hogging every last dollar would kill future cooperation; Hollywood talent needed motivation to keep working with Daenerys.
They talked for about an hour before wrapping up.
Hughes decided to stay in Los Angeles another week to stay in close contact with Simon and hammer out a detailed outline for Home Alone.
After the weekend and some fine-tuning, Daenerys Entertainment and Fox held a joint press conference announcing the first of the ten films: Sleeping with the Enemy.
Sleeping with the Enemy was a 1987 novel by Nancy Price that had never gained much traction. Fox's script department had acquired the rights cheaply for $150,000 and then shelved it.
Once announced, the obscure novel suddenly drew massive media attention. Sales spiked; the publisher rushed a reprint.
Then, on Wednesday, August 16.
Daenerys and Disney held a second press conference, announcing the second title: The Hand That Rocks the Cradle, a classic psychological thriller Simon remembered well, about a housewife who, after her husband's suicide and her own miscarriage, poses as a nanny to exact revenge on the family she blames.
Like Sleeping with the Enemy, The Hand That Rocks the Cradle had flown under the radar. It was an original screenplay by a female writer named Amanda Silver.
Without a source novel and with deliberate secrecy from both studios, the press could only piece together vague guesses about the plot.
The low profiles of both scripts weren't coincidental.
High-profile, coveted IP rarely got offered for sharing, just as Simon wasn't about to split something like the quietly greenlit Home Alone. Most projects that reached him were lesser-known or uncertain prospects.
Two days later, Friday, August 18.
Daenerys and Warner Bros. held the third press conference, announcing the third film, another heavyweight Simon had counted on: The Fugitive.
Adapted from a Warner-owned television series, it followed a surgeon wrongfully accused of murdering his wife as he desperately tries to clear his name.
In the original timeline, Harrison Ford had starred and the film grossed over $360 million worldwide. From the start, however, Simon had told Warner this one would shoot next year at the earliest, eyeing summer 1991.
Because 1990 was already impossibly crowded.
With Home Alone now locked in, Daenerys controlled five of the year's biggest projected hits Simon remembered: Pretty Woman, Ghost, Dances with Wolves, Home Alone, and Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles.
Per plan, Pretty Woman would open around Valentine's Day in February; Ghost and Ninja Turtles in summer; Dances with Wolves and Home Alone at year-end.
If The Fugitive started production now, a big-budget film, unlike the quick-prep Sleeping with the Enemy. it would land at year-end too, pitting it directly against two other potential $200 million-plus earners.
The original Fugitive had cleared $180 million domestic, call it $200 million territory. Three monsters crammed into the holidays would only cannibalize one another. Simon knew this era's year-end window couldn't yet support three domestic $200 million films.
And those slots wouldn't be empty otherwise; competition would be even fiercer.
Warner understood Simon's reasoning but still wanted the announcement now, for the positive buzz and stock bump.
Paramount's June ambush had torpedoed the nearly finalized Time-Warner stock-swap deal; everything was back to square one. Even if Warner won the lawsuit blocking the merger, new terms would need negotiating.
Time had already proposed a new half-cash, half-stock offer, but the price wasn't finalized.
Every extra penny Warner's stock rose now meant Time would pay more later.
It worked: the announcement drove Warner's shares up 2.1% by close.
The same day the third collaboration was revealed, the latest weekly box-office numbers for August 11–17, the tail end of summer, came in.
John Hughes's written-and-directed Uncle Buck opened on 2,021 screens to $16.94 million, taking the top spot.
Its roughly $8,000 per-screen average wasn't blockbuster territory but met expectations. A $17 million start suggested a domestic total between $50 and $70 million, right in line with Daenerys's initial projections and Hughes's historical range.
With Hughes's five-million upfront already paid and a $15 million production budget, even after his projected five-to-seven-million backend share, Daenerys would turn a solid theatrical profit.
Also from Daenerys, The Sixth Sense in its seventh week held second place with another $16.71 million.
The phenomenon had officially crossed $200 million domestic, now standing at $211.06 million.
Universal's Steve Martin family comedy Parenthood had never claimed a weekly crown but showed beautiful legs, dropping only 22% in its fourth week to $11.66 million; its quiet accumulation now totaled $47.32 million.
New Line's A Nightmare on Elm Street 5 opened on 1,902 screens to $11.10 million, narrowly trailing Parenthood for fourth.
James Cameron's The Abyss fell 39% in week two to $10.69 million; two-week total $28.22 million, fifth place. Recovery looked hopeless; Fox executives remained miserable.
Outside the top five, the rest of the summer holdovers were in their final laps.
The Sixth Sense crossing $200 million and still eyeing $300 million put intense spotlight on the three newly announced co-productions.
In truth, Simon had already locked in more than these three. Fox was already negotiating for Terminator 2 rights; Columbia had another. TriStar had abruptly dropped Matthew Broderick recently, and Simon hadn't forgotten it.
But Sony's acquisition of Columbia wasn't fully finalized yet.
Unlike the messy Time-Warner saga, Columbia struggling for years with no rival bidders was essentially a done deal. Sony's team was already overseeing operations; dropping Broderick had been Japanese pressure.
After Daenerys shared Simon's chosen project with Columbia, Sony's negotiators asked to hold the announcement so the film could serve as a triumphant "grand opening" once the acquisition closed.
Daenerys was happy to oblige.
As the studios began pouring resources into the projects, Hollywood's talent agencies grew restless.
All except CAA.
Friction over Rain Man had begun late last year; since then, CAA stars had been conspicuously absent from Daenerys's major films. This summer: Kevin Costner in The Bodyguard was ICM; Whitney Houston's acting deal was WMA. Every key role in The Sixth Sense, including De Niro was WMA.
That hadn't mattered much before, CAA clients never lacked offers.
But the ten-picture plan changed everything. Pressure was now palpable throughout the agency.