After more than twenty minutes, having read about half of the script, Jonathan Friedman forced himself to put the script down.
He had other work today, and now was not a good time to read an entire script.
Moreover, even though he had only read half, Jonathan Friedman was already certain that the quality of the 'Butterfly Effect' script was just as excellent as its creative concept.
If it could be filmed, he felt certain this would become a classic movie.
Of course, with Jonathan Friedman's professional eye, the script's shortcomings were also very obvious.
Firstly, the name 'Butterfly Effect' seemed too niche.
Most ordinary people were unlikely to easily understand this professional theoretical term, which was only proposed in the 1970s, and this would undoubtedly hinder many people's interest in the film.
However, after Simon had just explained the meaning of the butterfly effect, Jonathan Friedman couldn't think of any other more appropriate names right now, so this point could only be put aside for now.
Secondly, the overall style of the story was too dark.
Especially the plot at the end where the male protagonist returns to the womb and strangles himself with the umbilical cord; thinking about it carefully, it even gives one a chilling feeling.
However, the entire script happened to fit the style of one of his other client's work.
During the reading process, Jonathan Friedman was actually multitasking, pondering certain things.
Due to internal turmoil at WMA, a large number of clients left, and Jonathan Friedman was also affected.
His client, the famous Hollywood director Brian De Palma, who had directed films such as 'Carrie' and 'Scarface', had recently received an invitation to switch agencies to CAA.
According to the information he received, CAA had even prepared a project as a welcoming gift.
The main reason Brian De Palma hadn't left as decisively as Al Pacino, Barbra Streisand, and others was largely due to the sentiment they had cultivated together over years of collaboration.
However, Brian De Palma's last two big-budget films, each costing over ten million dollars, had both failed in recent years.
As an agent, if he couldn't quickly find a high-quality project with sufficient box office guarantee for his client, Jonathan Friedman believed he would soon lose this client.
Now, 'The Butterfly Effect' seemed perfectly suited to solve this issue.
A sufficiently novel idea, an excellent story script, and it was also a thriller genre that Brian De Palma excelled at.
Moreover, from the storyline, the film's budget would not be too high, which would undoubtedly make it easier for a studio to greenlight the project.
Combining all of these favourable elements, Jonathan Friedman believed that 'The Butterfly Effect' had very little chance of failure, and may even be comparable to Brian De Palma's breakout film, 'Carrie'.
Moreover, as an ensemble film with a relatively rich cast of characters, this film could be allow him to promote some of his younger signed artists.
Since CAA could create a series of successful package deals, WMA, whose overall strength was in no way inferior to CAA, had no reason not to replicate their experience.
Now, the low-budget and low-risk 'Butterfly Effect' was clearly a suitable choice to attempt creating a package deal project.
After weighing all the details, Jonathan Friedman finally looked up at the young man opposite him.
Perhaps, he mused, occasionally signing a film screenwriter was also a good option.
Having made up his mind, Jonathan Friedman spoke again: "So, Simon, do you have any other scripts?"
Simon listened to Jonathan Friedman's tone and knew that he hadn't made the trip in vain today.
However, since 'The Butterfly Effect' had already piqued Jonathan Friedman's interest, he didn't plan to immediately bring out another script; doing so would only distract the agent's attention during the script pitching process.
In fact, Simon had originally planned to submit a script only once every one to two months, as long as he could find an agent.
Nevertheless, to further increase his standing in Jonathan Friedman's eyes, Simon still confirmed, "Yes, but the script is still being refined and will take some time.
It's a story about death, combining a certain fatalistic view from the East.
In the Eastern concept, they believe that if Death confirms a person's date of death, then that person will be unable to escape the entanglement of death no matter what."
Jonathan Friedman had originally just asked out of politeness, but Simon's words once again piqued his interest.
However, Simon didn't continue, so Jonathan Friedman didn't press further.
There would certainly be many opportunities to chat in the future; for now, he needed to address the immediate matter.
"In that case, let's talk about signing a contract.
Simon, since you've done so much preparatory work, you must have some understanding of signing with an agency.
Tell me your requirements first?"
Simon nodded, not being polite, and said, "Firstly, I only write scripts that interest me; I don't accept commissioned scripts or long-term employment.
Therefore, I hope to sign only a simple script agency contract."
Just hearing Simon's first request, Jonathan Friedman couldn't help but want to shake his head.
The total number of film and television projects based on original scripts in Hollywood each year only amounts to a few hundred.
If one relied solely on original scripts to make a living, the more than ten thousand members of the two major screenwriters' guilds on the East and West Coasts of North America would probably starve to death.
Therefore, most Hollywood screenwriters' livelihood comes from various adaptation scripts, script doctoring, and other commissioned tasks, as well as long-term employment by film and television production companies.
The request Simon was making at this moment was equivalent to limiting his personal career to a very narrow scope.
He wanted to explain, but looking at the young face opposite him, Jonathan Friedman chose not to bother.
Since he was young and reckless, it would be better for him to experience more setbacks.
Simon could probably understand Jonathan Friedman's thoughts from the changes in his expression, but he didn't pause and continued: "Secondly, if conditions permit, I hope to try my hand at film directing.
Therefore, I hope to retain a certain degree of autonomy over my scripts."
Jonathan Friedman still felt his eyelid twitch, and after scrutinizing Simon a few more times, he finally said, "Actually, Simon, I'm very curious about your age?"
Simon took out his wallet, pulled out his driver's license, and handed it over, saying, "Mr. Friedman, although I don't intend to hide this from you, I still think that during the script pitching process, you need to avoid discussing my personal age with film company executives."
Jonathan Friedman took Simon's driver's license and glanced at the date of birth on it.
February 22, 1968.
Although he had an idea, Jonathan still couldn't help but glance at the date on the office phone's display screen: today was June 19, 1986.
In other words, this young man in front of him had just turned 18 at the beginning of this year.
Shaking his head and smiling wryly, he handed the driver's license back to Simon.
Jonathan Friedman said, "Alright, I'll try to ignore that as much as possible from now on.
However, Simon, you need to know that most Hollywood directors only get their first opportunity to direct a film after they turn thirty, so you're still too..."
Simon didn't wait for Jonathan Friedman to finish speaking and couldn't help but shake his head and interrupt: "You're wrong, Jon. Steven Spielberg didn't, Martin Scorsese didn't, George Lucas didn't, and Francis Ford Coppola didn't either. Since that's the case, why should I be one of the mediocre majority?"
Jonathan Friedman was instantly stunned.
Many years later, Jonathan Friedman still clearly remembered that afternoon in the summer of 1986, the confident and spirited young man's resounding words in his office.
Steven Spielberg didn't;
Martin Scorsese didn't;
George Lucas didn't;
Francis Ford Coppola didn't either.
He also didn't know that the young man so strongly refuting him at the time had less than $100 left in his pocket, and if he couldn't find a job to make ends meet soon, he may well end up sleeping on the streets.
After a while, Jonathan Friedman regained his composure and continued to discuss the signing with Simon.
Simon had left too deep an impression on him during this meeting, and Jonathan Friedman unconsciously stopped himself imposing overly harsh contractual terms on Simon, as he usually would a newcomer.
In fact, ultimately, the heights a screenwriter could reach in Hollywood were limited, and the income they brought to an agent was fairly miniscule to an agent of Jonathan Friedman's calibre.
Jonathan Friedman instinctively felt that giving this young man a little convenience now might lead to unexpected gains in the future.
Therefore, the two quickly agreed on the basic contract framework.
A simple script agency contract, with a term of three years and a 10% commission.
Simon would have a certain degree of autonomy over his scripts.
Simply put, if he wanted to personally direct one of his scripts, he could prepare the project himself without going through an agent.
The detailed contract terms would naturally not be this simple, so Simon needed to come back tomorrow to sign.
Finally, to help put Jonathan Friedman at ease from the series of shocks he had given him, Simon also took the initiative to explain a few words, stating that his next goal was just to make some ultra-low-budget experimental films for practice.
Something like a 16mm camera, a few thousand dollars, and two or three people.
Jonathan Friedman was indeed more willing to accept Simon's explanation and even offered to provide some help within his capabilities.
The two talked very happily, and by the time the meeting ended, time had unknowingly passed to 5:40.
After saying goodbye again to Jonathan Friedman, who personally escorted him to the office door, Simon turned around and found two men and one woman, all young people, waiting in the outer lounge.
As the office door opened, the three people who had been chatting all stood up respectfully, and couldn't help but look at Simon, the guy who had made them wait for over an hour.
The two young men had obvious envy and wariness in their eyes, and the short-haired girl in black also looked at Simon with curiosity.
Simon just nodded slightly to the three of them.
Although the short-haired girl felt somewhat familiar, he didn't think much of it and walked out.
It wasn't until he left the WMA headquarters building that Simon remembered a name Jonathan Friedman had mentioned more than an hour ago and realized that the short-haired girl should be Courteney Cox, the famous Monica Geller with from 'Friends'.