Adrian suddenly felt an urge to laugh. In front of him, James Cameron exuded a hint of fanaticism; he resembled a bandit who was finally able to carry off a treasure trove, utterly devoid of the demeanor he displayed years later when he shouted into countless cameras, "I'm the king of the world."
He was about to speak when the elevator doors opened, revealing the bustling hotel lobby outside. Adrian smiled and motioned to James and Wendell, "How about we find a place to sit down and talk slowly?"
The three of them went to the bar in the lobby and, after ordering drinks, began to chat. James did not impatiently pull Adrian into a discussion about investment as he had in the elevator. Instead, he casually chatted about films.
From "Terminator" to "Aliens" and then to last year's "The Abyss," James talked about everything, not even shying away from the difficulties he faced when filming his first movie, "Piranha II." Adrian, having guessed some of his thoughts, praised him appropriately while introducing himself briefly. He also learned that the reason for their encounter with James and Wendell was that the production company was also hosting a party at the Baccarat Hotel.
"It's a real pity, Ed. I should have gone to the theater to see 'Memento' earlier; it must be an outstanding film." After hearing Adrian's introduction to his latest work, James sighed, though it was unclear whether he was sincere or just being polite.
"You wouldn't be that interested, James. You're more passionate about technology and effects than editing techniques," Adrian smiled and shook his head, "just like how you insisted on diving underwater for hours to film 'The Abyss.'"
"That's true," James did not deny it, "The reason I took seven years to make a sequel to 'Terminator' is because the technology wasn't meeting my requirements. Remember when I told you that the final fight with the robot in the first 'Terminator' was filmed frame by frame? If it were done today, it wouldn't be that troublesome."
At this point, he suddenly became excited, "You know, Ed, this time I've designed a liquid metal Terminator, played by Robert Patrick as the T-1000, and Arnold Schwarzenegger's T-800 will have spectacular action scenes protecting the young future leader. Just go to my studio and watch the completed segments to know that your $10 million investment is absolutely worth it."
"I completely believe it, James," Adrian nodded, "as long as you're willing and the producers agree, I can transfer the money to your account at any time."
"Pardon my curiosity, Mr. Adrian, may I know why you are so keen to invest?" Wendell, who hadn't spoken until now, interjected, "You mentioned earlier that your company has just started to improve; there's no need to get involved."
Wendell's subtext was clear. The risk was high, to say the least. Ten million was relatively small compared to one hundred million, and even if the film made money in the end, Adrian wouldn't get much. James quickly signaled his partner with his eyes, but Wendell seemed not to notice, staring unblinkingly at the young man before him.
"In my view, just the name James Cameron makes the investment worthwhile," Adrian said leisurely.
Upon hearing this, both James and Wendell were taken aback. Several minutes later, James burst into triumphant laughter and extended his hand to Adrian, "Then it's settled, Ed!"
"But there's one thing I must declare," Adrian suddenly said while shaking James's hand, his tone unusually solemn, "only 10 million, no more."
James froze, utterly at a loss regarding what the earnest-looking Adrian was saying, until Wendell beside him let out a chuckle, at which point James rolled his eyes and also couldn't help but smile wryly.
Would this investment truly not yield much profit? How could that be? This was the second "Terminator"! Even if the box office remained unchanged, Adrian would have nearly double the profit, which was already quite good. Of course, his target wasn't this movie. Since God let him encounter James Cameron here and meet him when he was worried about funding for "Terminator 2," it would be negligent not to make an emotional investment.
James Cameron had only been a top director for a few years, and what solidified his position was this "Terminator 2," which was nearing completion. So there was no better time than now. Just think of how many technologies and records this technology fanatic had birthed, and it was clear that it was absolutely necessary to align with him now. It's just...
Predictably, just like in his memory, the man had already started wantonly burning money to film "Terminator 2," one could only imagine how crazy he would be a few years later when making the then-largest investment film in history. On the way back, as Adrian drove, he pondered. But it's nothing; the timing now was just right. James Cameron would not be a problem. It was Spielberg who might pose a challenge. Could he persuade him without using his trump card?
---
"Don't worry, Holmes, I assure you the production of 'Hook' will be completed on time, so there's no need to be so apprehensive." Spielberg gestured in the air, as if trying to reassure the producer from Sony, who was sitting on another single sofa.
"Alright, Steven, we've known each other a long time, and I don't want to hide it from you. The company hopes that this film will be released in the summer slot," Holmes sighed, "You know, Peter Pan, Captain Hook, Wendy, Little Fairy—children's favorites."
"Summer slot? I'm sorry, Holmes, that's not going to happen." Spielberg shrugged and took a sip of his coffee, "I have a lot to deal with, and I won't allow the post-production to be rushed."
"How can you call it rushed, Steven? Just pick up the pace a bit." Holmes spread his hands.
"We haven't worked together for a short time, Holmes. You know how I operate." Spielberg showed no sign of yielding, "Besides, the Christmas slot is also a decent choice, isn't it?"
Holmes stared at him for a while, "Is it because of that investment rejection?"
"How could you say such a thing, Holmes!" Spielberg frowned.
"So that's the reason—come on, Steven, I know you've always wanted to make this movie, but nobody would appreciate it. It would be better to donate the money than to spend it on this." Holmes stubbornly shook his head.
"You're insulting me, Holmes!" Spielberg's tone became vehement, "For years, not a single day passed without me considering giving it to someone else, but no one was willing to take it on. Since that's the case, I will personally direct and produce it! Their refusal doesn't matter, but for you to say that now is truly disappointing!"
The two looked at each other for a while before Holmes sighed and relented, "Alright, I apologize, Steven; I offended you, I'm very sorry."
Spielberg also sighed, knowing the other party meant no harm, "Let's leave it at that, Holmes."
"Alright, Christmas slot, I'll inform them." Holmes nodded, got up, and left the office.
Watching the other party leave, Spielberg sat quietly on the sofa for a few more minutes, pondering who knew what, before finally exhaling deeply and moving to the desk to go through some documents.
At this moment, the phone on the desk rang, "Mr. Spielberg, a Mr. Adrian Cowell is here to see you; he says he has an appointment."
Spielberg was momentarily stunned, checked the time, then realized, "Yes, that's right, please let him in."
Adrian Cowell, he repeated the name in his mind several times, and the scene from that evening resurfaced in his memory. He initially hadn't wanted to attend the party, but Elaine had called in person and it was hard to refuse.
The young man initially made a good impression on him, courteous and composed, with his own views on people and things. Moreover, he had seen the film previously praised by critics, the editing was exquisite, and it turned a simple story into something outstanding. The young man was impressive and had potential, but his commercial intent was rather evident. He said everything for the sake of the last sentence.
Thinking of this, Spielberg couldn't help but shake his head slightly. He didn't see commercial intent as a bad thing; after years of making movies, he knew firsthand how pragmatic Hollywood was. He just felt this young man was a bit too impatient. If he were more composed and approached the matter later, Spielberg would definitely consider it seriously. As for now...
"Hello, Ed, it's great we could meet again so soon." When the young face appeared at the door, Spielberg stood up and shook hands with him.
"Thank you for taking the time, Steven." Adrian greeted warmly, easily making people feel at ease.
They sat on opposite sides of the desk and, after some pleasantries, got down to business.
"I remember, when we left the party, you mentioned wanting to adapt a sci-fi novel into a movie, didn't you?" Spielberg asked first.
"Yes." Adrian nodded, then placed the book he'd been holding on the desk, pushing it towards him, "A sci-fi novel about dinosaurs, quite interesting."
"About dinosaurs?" Spielberg involuntarily raised an eyebrow, and upon picking up the book on the desk, he was momentarily stunned.
"Michael Crichton's 'Jurassic Park,'" Adrian's voice sounded again, "Shortly after its publication last year, I had someone contact him and finally obtained the movie adaptation rights after several turns of negotiation. I've spoken with Michael a few times over the phone, and we both believe you're the best choice to direct and produce this film."
(Things haven't been going well these days, and I'm running out of drafts. Everyone, please cast some recommendations to encourage me.)