This was an utter absurdity under the heavens!
From "The Pacific" to "Buried", and now "Like Crazy", the pay was decreasing with each successive role, giving the impression of a fading actor whose career was plummeting into a dead-end. The meager $100,000 for "Buried" was already low enough; that was the fee for third-tier actors. Even many television actors earned more than that. But now, it was decreasing further to $20,000? Wasn't this akin to giving alms to beggars? It sounded more like the rate a young model in the industry would receive.
Furthermore, Renly was now an Emmy holder! An Emmy Award! One of the four major artistic awards in the United States! $20,000? What kind of joke was this?
As for profit sharing? That was nothing but empty talk!
From the scraps of information, it was evident that "Like Crazy" hadn't even secured a production company; it had merely attracted investment. Just like "Buried", what did that mean? It meant the director and producers had no say. How much they could actually share in profits, how the profit distribution would be divided among the distribution companies and major cinema chains, and even whether they could find suitable buyers – all of this was uncertain and would have to be decided by the other party. The box office profit sharing ratio for "Buried" was determined by Focus Features.
Looking at it another way, even if the production and distribution companies agreed to profit sharing, how much could Renly really receive?
Hollywood actors' participation in profit sharing began rising after the start of the new century. Although such arrangements existed before, they were not mainstream. The mainstream collaboration between production companies and actors revolved around fees. The real turning point was "Pirates of the Caribbean: Dead Man's Chest" in 2006.
Before this, the $20M club represented the industry's peak. However, "Pirates of the Caribbean: Dead Man's Chest" brought Johnny Depp a basic salary of $33M combined with the North American box office sharing. This shocked the entire industry. "Pirates of the Caribbean: At World's End" surpassed even that, giving Disney quite a jolt.
When filming "Pirates of the Caribbean: On Stranger Tides", Disney boldly offered a record-breaking $55M for Depp's salary, signing him to continue the series. In fact, this figure was Disney's internal estimate, combining the basic salary and box office sharing. By paying Depp's salary all at once, the studio could funnel the film's box office profits beyond expectations into their own pockets.
After that, although the $20M club still existed, it was in name only. Actors didn't fuss over the level of their basic salary; instead, they were more willing to participate in movie production through profit sharing. This was beneficial for film studios, as they could save on budgets and have actors share a portion of the box office risk – both earning money and bearing losses together. Hence, major film companies welcomed this development.
In other words, a film company's willingness to engage in profit sharing was about sharing the risk, not dividing the profits. Naturally, only top-tier actors with significant box office appeal could make it onto the profit-sharing list, while others were left by the wayside.
Although Renly had just won an Emmy, in the star-studded Hollywood, he was far from prominent. Accumulating just two roles wouldn't qualify him for the second-tier actor ranks. At most, he could be considered third-tier. Even if Renly could participate in profit sharing, one percent would likely be the maximum limit; film companies wouldn't be willing to easily budge.
The most plausible scenario was that not even this one percent of profit sharing would be willingly given by the film company. Trying to wrest a chicken leg from the mouth of a yellow weasel – this was an impossibility.
Of course, Andy also couldn't forget the other possibility if "Like Crazy" were to be taken on by an independent production company and distributor.
In such cases, due to budget constraints, these types of low-cost independent films often invited A-list or B-list actors through profit-sharing arrangements. For the actors, it was an opportunity to test the waters during awards season, and for the production team, it meant cost savings – a win-win situation.
The most famous case was "Pulp Fiction" in 1994. At the time, John Travolta's career was in a major slump, reaching its nadir. After reaching the peak, even if he wasn't A-list anymore, he wasn't a star just any independent film could afford.
Quentin Tarantino was deeply interested in classic films and had a special fondness for John. He invited him to act in "Pulp Fiction". But with limited funds, John's fee of around $3M was only at the B-list level in the industry and not something Tarantino could afford. So, they negotiated. John would receive a basic salary of $170,000 and then be invited to participate through profit-sharing.
John thought, why not? After all, his career couldn't get any worse.
Thus, the cinematic classic "Pulp Fiction" was born. Earning over $10M for his role was one thing; more importantly, John's career was rejuvenated, and he even received an Oscar nomination.
But the issue was, "Pulp Fiction" was just one film. Its North American box office reached over $107M. So what about "Like Crazy"? Forget about a $100M, even for an independent film, breaking $30M in the North American box office wasn't easy. "Buried" was like that, and so would be "Like Crazy".
In short, this was an utterly absurd situation, and Andy felt a tightness in his chest.
An actor's fee wasn't just about the fee itself. First and foremost, the fee served as an actor's investment cycle guarantee. The investment in building an image wasn't something that could be completed with a few hundred thousand dollars. Moreover, Renly's "Buried" still had some hope for this year's awards season, and the expenditure on PR activities wasn't a trifling sum. Without making these investments, there would be no possibilities in the future.
Secondly, an actor's fee was a direct reflection of their status within the industry. When top-tier actors occasionally lowered their fees for a friendly appearance or to star in an independent film, it was seen as "having aspirations". However, for new actors who hadn't achieved any notable accomplishments, the dwindling fee indicated a self-destructive path.
Lastly, there was Andy's own share of the profit. This was also the most insignificant part. For a top-tier agent like Andy, a ten percent commission from nurturing newcomers hardly made any money. Not only that, he even had to contribute his own money.
Looking at the seemingly carefree Renly before him, Andy felt a genuine urge to cry. He realized that in the short month since he had taken on Renly as a client, his emotional rollercoaster was greater than the sum of his past year. He took a deep breath, and then another, deeper one. "Can you tell me why you want to take on this role? Give me a reason."
"A reason?" Renly seemed to not understand Andy's meaning. He was an actor, and Andy was an agent; their perspectives on things naturally differed.
Andy supported himself on the armrests of the chair, his hands crossed, leaning slightly forward. "For example, do you think that the challenges in this work are even more daunting than those in "Buried" with the potential to compete in next year's Golden Globe Awards, or even the Oscars?"
Renly broke into a light laugh right away. "Ha." Indeed, the focus of attention for agents and actors was entirely different.
Not all films needed to be tied to awards and box office, like the most controversial case in the 21st century, "Mulholland Drive". This work was once highly disputed, hailed as a masterpiece by some and scorned by others. Later on, it only received a lackluster Best Director nomination at the Oscars. This was clearly just a consolation for David Lynch, triggering strong dissatisfaction among numerous fans.
Now, this work had become a treasure in the hearts of countless film critics and seasoned enthusiasts. In the 21st-century film rankings, "Mulholland Drive" occupied a place in the top five. Its status in film history was evident. Nonetheless, the film's lead actress, Naomi Watts, still burst into the scene with this work, marking a turning point in her career.
Examples like this also included "Fight Club", "Requiem for a Dream", "Donnie Darko", and many more – too numerous to count. These works might not have achieved great box office results or won recognition during major awards seasons, but it didn't affect their significant place in film history. They had all become a shining entry on the resumes of actors or directors, laying the groundwork for their future careers.
Actors cared about the essence of the work itself, while agents cared about the results the work brought. This was the fundamental difference.
However, Renly understood Andy's concerns, so he nodded and gave an affirmative response. "That's the direction we're working toward."
Andy let out a sigh. "Once I have the script, I'll need to go through it." This time, Andy didn't use a questioning tone; he expressed his opinion directly. Renly didn't mind either and simply nodded in agreement.
The cooperation between agents and actors was an equal relationship. Even for fledgling newcomers, the actors themselves were the ones signing the performance contracts. If an actor disagreed, the agent couldn't force them to sign. Of course, new actors lacked perspective, ability, and experience. Generally, they would follow whatever their agents said. Even some long-established top-tier artists would heed their agent's professional advice.
Renly and Andy were similar in this regard. It's just that both sides needed to continually explore in order to collaborate and achieve a win-win situation. Otherwise, the one who would ultimately be hurt was the actor themselves. Agents could find countless actors, but actors could also change agents at any time. However, missing the golden period of career development might not offer a second chance. Not everyone could have a second chance like Robert Downey Jr. or John Travolta.
"So, what exactly brought you to me?" Renly looked at the clock on the wall and took the initiative to ask.
Only then did Andy realize that due to the sudden and fierce impact of "Like Crazy", he had completely forgotten the purpose of his visit. With Renly's reminder, his brain finally made the connection. "I came to find you about your next project. I've found two suitable projects, and if you're interested, I can arrange a one-on-one private audition for you to see how the feedback is, and then we can discuss further."
Evidently, these past couple of days in Telluride, Andy hadn't been idle.