“Yes, yes, but how many have helped make movies that crack that top ten list of highest grossing movies?” Billy states flatly. “I have my name on four of them, and another 3 if you go to top fifteen.” It’s a bold statement, but an accurate one. He knew what he was doing when it came down to it. From the budget to the actor, Billy knew how to maximize profit. “I’d love to see you find someone else with my credentials.” That’s all he says, where he leaves it for now.
“A director isn’t as important as the budget, the material, and the cast. A good director can make anything look good given the right tools. Yes, you’re a great director, but I can find about a half-dozen like you within a stones throw of the gates.” Billy squares up, tightening his hold on the other’s hand, if they were going to arm wrestle for it, then he’d try, but he doesn’t plan on going through with it.
“I do want to gamble,” he responds, having let the other say his piece. “I want 15 up front, no touching that. And then I want 10 at 1.5 worldwide, but I want another 10 at a billion domestic. Final offer. Oh, and so we’re clear, gross, not net. I’m not playing games here.” Smirking, he leans in. “You can’t take that sequel anywhere for 3 years, and your cast are in exclusive contracts with us. I can let this film drag in development hell if I wanted to pull the team onto other projects I deem fit. Again, I won’t, just like I’m negotiating with you instead of the studio. I think the real question here is, how much do you want to make on this? Because as animated as you seem to be getting right now, I’m not even sweating it.”
“I mean, you’re just giving the money, aren’t you?” He said, miniminizing his role as producer. The fact was that in all of his career Ben never listened to a producer; and since people started listening to him, their grosses increased. Him and Billy worked well together, but he wasn’t liking the idea of being stuck to him. “Aren’t there youtube memes that have more cultural impact than all of those top 15 movies combined, by a fraction of the budget?” He muses for a second and adds a bitter laugh. “I wouldn’t brag about that, but that’s just me.” He stays quiet for a moment and then crosses his legs. “I don’t need your credentials, Billy, just your money.” Who even knew what a producer did?
“Who needs cast?” Ben asked, almost serious. He knew what sold, and he knew how to get it. Sure, ads in Sunset Boulevard, trailers being dropped at the Superbowl too. But money could get that, whichever hand it came from. “Are you seriously telling me the audience can tell the difference between which white muscular bald man I put in the shot?” How many times he had reshot entire sequences with body doubles? In fact, he was even considering adding that to save on actor’s payments anyway.
Billy means well, he is sure. He just chose the wrong person to lecture. “You don’t get it, do you?” He asks, sounding really concerned. “I’m not here for the art, Billy. I don’t give a shit.” He had no attatchment to Origins of Power or any other movie he made in the past. “I don’t want to film in the Middle East to better represent the landscape of war torn wasteland. I’d film in a dump down in Chile if I could.” He shakes his head, frustrated that the other seem to understand that there is a greater meaning under all of this. If he had to work in another franchise, fuck, he’d do it. He couldn’t take the four-movie deal from his hands even if he wanted.
He leans forward, as if he is telling a secret. “I’m just in for the money. If you give me, I’ll stay. If you play hard to get, I’ll leave. I wrote Origins Of Power half-drunk and jerking off.” He gives him a wink and runs his fingers softly through Billy’s palm. “I can drink and jerk off anytime I want.”
“They don’t give a shit about plot either.” When he thought about it, Ben had the perfect audience trap tool: plotless explosions, badly written dialogue with a patriotism undertone to it. Who cares about artistic integrity when you can fight a gripping car chase? “I can’t lose here.”
He tried to not show his surprise. Was he just plain dumb or too hopeful? He thought for a second, as if his mind wasn’t made already. Pretending to think about, he closed his eyes, took one moment too long. Finally, he looked back at Billy. “Deal.” He smiled, fully knowing he was saving himself 10 million dollars. In no way they were gonna make 1 billion in domestic gross — Ben never even considered that possibility. China was his best friend as far as audience went. “What else?” There was alsways more in Hollywood.