In the past, Andy had engaged in quite a battle of wits for his share of the profits from "Fast 5". In the case of a commercial film, the box office profit-sharing system was distinctive, and Renly hadn't been involved, so he couldn't fully grasp the challenges of box office profit-sharing. However, through the distribution collaboration of "Like Crazy", Renly had experienced it firsthand.
From Harvey Weinstein's attitude, it could be seen that many times, production companies preferred to pay more money rather than give actors a share of the profits. One reason was that profit-sharing meant higher income for the actors, which came from the producers' share. Another reason was that box office profit-sharing itself represented power, implying that actors could participate in more decisions, which encroached upon the producers' power.
Regardless, box office profit-sharing was already difficult enough. But now, Tony not only offered box office profit-sharing but went a step further by including DVD profit-sharing, and he offered it voluntarily. Renly hadn't even argued for it. Even using the term "mind-boggling" wouldn't suffice to describe Tony's generosity and straightforwardness.
Renly knew that "Detachment" would likely flop at the box office and in DVD sales. Even if he could claim five percent from both, his final compensation wouldn't be much. However, the focus wasn't on that; the focus was on Tony's sincerity and dedication. Renly truly saw that Tony was giving one hundred percent to the film.
Of course, even from this small detail, it could be inferred. "Detachment" probably hadn't intended to partner with other production companies. It was likely produced by Tony's own production company, granting him the right to share this portion of the profits.
Such passion was almost extinct in the glittering and glamorous Hollywood. In comparison to Woody Allen and even Renly himself, Tony was genuinely obsessed with movies, evoking admiration.
"Do you have any other demands?" After delivering the bombshell so resolutely, Tony surprisingly still maintained his focused gaze on Renly. He inquired, "Or would you like to further discuss your salary? It might be challenging in terms of compensation, but as for profit-sharing..."
Looking at Tony's expression, Renly chuckled silently. Soft laughter resonated in his chest as he responded in a jesting manner, "If we keep going, you might go bankrupt." With a teasing tone, he declined Tony's kindness.
However, Tony shrugged nonchalantly. "Opportunities to make money are everywhere, but artistic opportunities shouldn't be missed."
Renly nodded. "No one wants to miss out on creative inspiration."
This response made Tony laugh heartily. "Oh, by the way, I forgot to ask about your schedule." Tony finally remembered, "Our production team needs some preparation time, and we have to find other actors. However, we're an independent small-scale production, so we're more flexible."
After a brief contemplation, Tony hesitated and said that they were aiming to start filming in April, but at the latest, it might be in June. "Does your schedule allow for that, or do we need to coordinate further?" Independent film schedules were quite flexible, influenced by various factors, which made them drastically different from commercial films.
In Renly's mind, Andy's words about "The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo" came to him.
"No problem." Renly provided his answer, nodding in affirmation. "I'm willing to take on this role. But I do have a question."
Tony and Carl both showed delighted expressions, but before they could celebrate, they were drawn in by Renly's question. They stared at him intently, causing Renly to chuckle and speak, "When can I start reading the script?"
Reading the script of "Detachment" wasn't about building a character or immersing oneself in it, but rather about reading the lines.
For method actors, lines weren't the most crucial. Often, even without lines, the expression of emotions remained powerfully impactful. However, it was undeniable that lines were a significant part of acting. Truly exceptional method actors had solid fundamentals when it came to delivering lines.
Furthermore, "Detachment" had a lot of monologues and soliloquies, which made the meaning of the lines even more important.
The cautiousness between Tony's brows dissipated, replaced by genuine joy. He appreciated Renly's attitude. "Tomorrow, tomorrow will be fine. Give me your agent's business card, and I'll contact him. We'll swiftly finalize the contract details, and you can start reading the script. We can also begin preparing other aspects."
The agent's business card.
Suddenly, Renly felt a sense of amusement. First George Slender, then Tony Kaye. Andy probably would be quite perplexed receiving these unplanned calls. As a newcomer actor, he indeed wasn't one to stay put.
Tony caught the playfulness in Renly's smile and widened his eyes. "What's going on?"
Renly waved his hand. "Nothing." He searched his wallet, realizing he didn't usually carry Andy's business card with him. As a result, he took out his phone. "How about I just send you his phone number?"
So casual, and even a bit careless. Indeed, there were some commonalities among artists.
"No problem." Tony also took out his phone, and they exchanged their numbers.
Subsequently, Woody earnestly inquired about Renly's performance schedule for tonight. Renly's earlier guess was correct; Woody had indeed brought Tony and Carl here to enjoy the performance and wanted to ask Stanley for Renly's contact information. In the eyes of an old scholar like Woody, this was much more convenient than approaching an actors' union.
Renly truly had no clue. He asked Neil at the bar and then came back to explain.
Just as Renly was about to bid his farewells and leave, Woody casually remarked, "And what about you? When are you planning to go up on stage for a performance?"
"At least not tonight." Renly half-jokingly replied.
Tony chuckled in response, but Woody wasn't entirely convinced. His expression remained distant, as he said, "You're a good performer. Maybe you should go on stage more often."
Such praise genuinely caught Renly off guard.
Woody Allen, a household name, known for his critical eye and sarcastic wit, never hesitated to speak his mind. He'd never shown willingness to compromise. Except for New York, his lifelong love; the city held a special charm in his lens.
Not to mention Renly, even Tony was surprised as he cast a curious gaze. Woody remained unfazed, simply shrugging. "I know you're an actor, but the stage itself is a part of performance. Perhaps you could find a time every week to perform here, to experience life. Within this small bar, there's so much inclusiveness. It might take your whole life to fully comprehend."
Renly recalled something: Woody was a saxophonist, and every Monday, he would perform in a bar. He'd been doing it for thirty years, without interruption.
He was a director, yet not just a director; fundamentally, various forms of art were the same, reflecting the thoughts and souls of creators and artists.
To others, performing the saxophone every Monday might be considered a deviation from his main profession, and entirely unrelated to his directing work. But who knew? Perhaps Woody's ability to maintain such vibrant creativity at this age stemmed from these Monday performances.
Renly felt that the next time he had the chance, he should pick a Monday to specially come and watch Woody's performance and experience the New York nightlife through Woody's eyes.
"I'm suddenly curious too," Tony said eagerly, looking at Renly.
Woody's words were filled with disdain and criticism towards Renly, his age of twenty-one notwithstanding. Even if his acting talent was exceptional, his accumulation of social experience and refinement was lacking. Compared to his previous three roles, Henry in "Detachment" was truly a character with experience and depth. The challenges he posed for actors were comprehensive. Even if it was ten times more difficult than imagined, the actual situation would be even tougher.
However, Tony sensed an underlying affirmation. If Woody hadn't been genuinely impressed by Renly's singing, he wouldn't be so insistent. This was indeed an interesting matter, and Tony couldn't help but feel a sense of anticipation.
Renly responded with a smile, "Then we'll have to wait for the next time."
A shut door. Quite rare, truly rare. Tony surreptitiously observed Woody's expression, noticing that disdainful and contemptuous look, which now carried a touch of stiffness. It was exceptionally well-played.
However, Renly remained remarkably composed. He wasn't uneasy due to rejecting Woody, nor was he smug.
Each artist had their own creative method. There was no one right way, no wrong path. Woody had his approach, and Renly had his rhythm. Different methods could open the same world to reveal diverse scenes. What suited Woody might not necessarily suit him, and vice versa. Renly had no intention of wavering in his principles just because the other person was Woody Allen.
Furthermore, compared to the focused Tony, Renly was already quite diversified in his interests, feeling a bit embarrassed.
Of course, Renly admitted that using music to build bridges of thought, creating a smooth connection between himself and his work, his character, and his co-actors, was commendable. Back when he secured the role of Eugene Sledge, the song "Cleopatra" had played an important role.
However, although Renly deeply admired Tony, he wasn't planning to give up his own hobbies. Admiration was one thing, but Renly intended to continue exploring his own path, seeking his own creative method. He looked forward to eventually reaching the same destination.
After finishing speaking, Renly bid his farewell and turned to leave.
Tony watched Renly's departing figure, then playfully bumped Woody with his shoulder, a look of sheer delight on his face. Woody rolled his eyes, not intending to engage; Carl, sitting across from them, watched Tony's mischievous antics and shook his head helplessly, deciding not to get involved.