After finishing his champagne, Robert was surprised to find that Ryan was actually chatting and laughing with the Arab man, the two of them looking genuinely comfortable together.
"Seems like I underestimated Ryan a bit," he muttered to himself.
Then he watched the two of them leave the banquet hall together.
Robert stared at the entrance for a moment. "The kid has grown up."
Maybe this time he really could pull an investment out of the Arab's hands.
In a quiet corner of the hotel lobby lounge, Saleh ordered two glasses of water, pushed one across to Ryan, and said, "You owe money to the banks and you've gotten on the wrong side of the Jewish community. Your chances of getting a loan domestically are very low."
Everything Ryan had said that evening could hold up under scrutiny. He had just made sure to layer in plenty of grievances toward the Jewish establishment while he was at it.
Jewish influence in Hollywood was real, and there were actually plenty of people in the industry who quietly resented it. The difference was that those same people had no particular love for Arabs either.
"I've given up on finding domestic financing," Ryan said, keeping his tone open and direct. "There's a bigger world out there. Germany has always had a strong appetite for Hollywood co-productions."
He tapped the table lightly. "After the project launch press conference next week, I'm planning to head to Germany and look there."
"Good luck with that." Saleh raised his glass, then asked with genuine curiosity, "A press conference? What's the new film about? Can you say?"
Ryan paused for a moment as if deciding how much to share. "I can't go into too much detail just yet." He smiled. "But I wrote the script myself, and there's a key character who happens to be Arab."
Saleh asked carefully. "Not a villain, I hope."
"Absolutely not." Ryan shook his head and gave him a brief sketch of the Arab family in the story, the neighbors who end up saving the American protagonists on Purge Night.
"That's quite different from the usual image of Arab characters in Hollywood films," Saleh said.
"The point I'm trying to make is actually very simple," Ryan said. "Americans have good people and bad people. Black people have good people and bad people. Jewish people have good people and bad people. Arabs have good people and bad people. That's it."
"Exactly right!" Saleh agreed immediately, then added, "Such a simple truth. Why does Hollywood refuse to see it?"
"It's not that they don't see it," Ryan said. "They see it fine. They just choose to look the other way." His thoughts kept pace with his words. "That's why a film like this needs to exist. To wake people up a little. The same way the civil rights movement worked — you find a small opening, and eventually the whole wall comes down."
He spread his hands. "People everywhere are the same at the end of the day. Good ones and bad ones, everywhere you look."
Saleh's interest in the film was growing visibly. "You're holding a press conference for this? Could I come?"
Part of his job, after all, was to assess opportunities exactly like this one. And he was genuinely ambitious, there was no other reason to be in Los Angeles when he could have gone back to Abu Dhabi and lived comfortably.
"Of course." Ryan gave him the date and location. "You'd be very welcome."
He had been thinking about how to bring up the press conference naturally. It was much better that Saleh had raised it himself.
On the subject of Hollywood's treatment of the Arab world, the two of them had enough common ground to talk for nearly an hour. Ryan never once brought up the subject of investment, and Saleh never mentioned his actual role or background.
But under Ryan's careful steering, the conversation had gone exactly where he wanted it to, and by the time they parted ways, Saleh had specifically asked for Ryan's cell phone number and reminded him to save a seat at the press conference.
Getting into Robert's car, Ryan let out a long breath and rubbed his face hard. Thank god for his years as a producer back home. He'd done enough maneuvering in his previous life to handle something like this without breaking a sweat.
"How did it go?" Robert asked.
"Not bad," Ryan said.
The days that followed were relentlessly busy. Ryan reviewed the storyboards and promotional posters the hired team had put together and started laying out the broad framework of a production plan.
He sorted out the gifts for the press conference, personally called media contacts to confirm attendance, went to the Producers Guild to officially register The Purge as an active project, drafted his remarks for the press conference, and worked with a lawyer to prepare and revise financing agreement templates.
He also posted a director search notice at the Directors Guild and ran recruitment ads for crew positions through the trades.
If this project was going to convince anyone to put money into it, every piece of the groundwork had to look completely genuine.
During this time, Saleh reached out several times to meet up, and the conversations were always easy and warm. Saleh had no real friends in Los Angeles, and his work on cultural and entertainment investment had hit a wall at every turn because of how closed off the industry was to him.
Under Ryan's deliberate attention, the friendship moved fast. When Saleh asked to read the actual script, Ryan made a show of cautioning him about confidentiality before sending over an electronic copy.
Saleh called afterward and practically declared Ryan an honorary friend of the UAE people.
On the first Wednesday of February, Saleh arrived at the Beverly Hilton's press room a little late, held up by something that had come up unexpectedly. By the time he got there, the room was already full.
He went to find Ryan briefly, said a quick hello so as not to distract him, grabbed a press kit from the registration table, and found a seat.
The room was packed. Saleh counted close to a hundred reporters with press badges and more than a dozen camera operators. A reporter from the Los Angeles Times was seated not far away.
This project had clearly made some noise in the media.
He hadn't been idle in the days leading up to this. He'd gone back and done proper research on Ryan Anderson and Starlight Entertainment. The company wasn't large, but it had been in operation for over ten years, which counted for something.
And Ryan's financial difficulties were real — institutions with close ties to the Jewish establishment had refused him at every turn. The two loans Starlight had taken out in the past were both heavily collateralized mortgages with harsh terms, the kind where you only got seventy cents on the dollar.
He opened the press kit and started reading through it carefully. The posters were detailed and polished. The storyboard sketches were limited in number but showed real thought and real investment in the visual direction of the project.
For a company dealing with the difficulties Starlight was dealing with, putting this together took real commitment.
Unlike that loud, dismissive Leonardo, Ryan Anderson was clearly someone who expressed himself through what he actually did.
In the back lounge behind the press room, Mary watched Ryan straighten his jacket and said, "We spent nearly twenty thousand dollars on this press conference. All to put on a show for one Arab?"
Ryan raised one finger and shook it lightly. "This show isn't just for one person. It's for everyone to see."
If things fell through with Saleh, he had other options lined up. Indian investors, for one. The savior character in the script could be rewritten to fit whoever ended up writing the check.
Robert came over. "Saleh's primary role in Los Angeles is to assess the viability of cultural and entertainment investment opportunities. If we can get him to advocate for us from the inside, the rest of the process becomes much easier."
A knock at the door. George pushed it open. "It's time."
Ryan nodded, put on his plain-framed glasses, and said, "Let's go."
The press room went quiet as Ryan walked up to the podium. Saleh put away his press kit and paid attention. He had read the script, so he already understood the basic story Ryan was outlining for the room, which made the early part of the presentation a bit easy to follow without much effort.
Then Ryan announced the budget figure, and Saleh sat up straighter.
"Starlight Entertainment will be producing The Purge as a medium-scale action thriller with an initial budget of ten million dollars. We are still in the process of selecting a director. As for the cast, we have already sent invitations to Jamie Lee Curtis, Drew Barrymore, Johnny Depp, and George Clooney..."
Saleh knew all of those names. Jamie Lee Curtis was the female lead in True Lies. Drew Barrymore was a well-known former child star. Johnny Depp was the man with the scissors for hands. George Clooney he was less sure about, though he had a vague memory of him playing a doctor in some television series.
He didn't know a great deal about Hollywood, but anyone whose name had stuck in his memory was definitely a star. Ryan was planning something significant.
No wonder he needed financing. Ten million dollars wasn't something you just produced out of thin air, even for him.
The Q&A session began. One reporter went straight for the obvious question. "Mr. Anderson, your company's last film suffered serious losses. Do you still have the resources to move forward with a project of this scale?"
"There are certainly challenges," Ryan said, and Saleh could hear his voice clearly from where he was sitting. "We do have a funding gap, but I'm confident we can close it through financing."
Ten million. Saleh turned it over in his mind. Ryan had clearly chosen that number carefully — higher than the previous film's budget, but not by so much that it seemed reckless.
He barely registered the questions that followed. He was thinking.
A film couldn't be made without money. A project like this one — one that actually gave Arabs a fair portrayal, that let an Arab be the hero — would simply disappear without funding.
He thought about the scene in the script where the Arab neighbor comes to the rescue. The image of it still sat with him.
He had been in Los Angeles for nearly three months. His assignment to assess the feasibility of cultural and entertainment investment had gone nowhere, blocked at every step by an industry that had no interest in including him. He hadn't produced a single result worth reporting.
Could this be the opening he'd been looking for?
He hadn't come all this way to go home with nothing to show. The idle princes back in Abu Dhabi had that life. He'd chosen something different.
The problem was that he didn't control the money directly. His role was investigation and assessment, not final decision-making. And a film investment of this scale, one that touched on the image of the Arab world in front of a global audience, wasn't something he could approve on his own without risking serious consequences if he got it wrong.
The press conference wrapped up and the reporters filed out quickly. Saleh got up and made his way toward Ryan. He had quite a bit to say to this guy.