January 2005, Kloves Residence, London
It took half of November and the entirety of December to finalize the screenplay and the songs for our untitled musical film. The musical part was tricky because I had to change nearly half of my song list to make it fit better with the story. Honestly, it was good that I had this to work on or I would spiral back into depression. I hadn't realized till now how much time of the day I spent texting/talking to Emma.
Now only the difficult part remained before the shooting, which included pre-production (beyond screenplay), actual recording of the songs in a studio, and most important of all, the inevitable talk with Evan. He hadn't ever outright said that he would direct the film, and I didn't have the courage to ask him bluntly if that was what he wanted.
That left me in this perpetual state of unease around him as if I was betraying him by using his idea to make the film and setting him aside at the last moment. Eventually, I couldn't take it anymore and had to get it out of my system.
"Evan," I said, trying to sound casual while sitting in our living room. "Who do you think we should select as the director for our film? I was thinking Stephen Daldry, who directed [Billy Elliot]."
Dad turned to us in curiosity when I popped that question. I had already talked to him about it, and he had agreed with what I wanted to do. That's why I had broached the topic when he was present on the scene so that I would have someone on my side.
Evan frowned visibly as my question dawned on him.
"What do you mean by that?" he asked hotly. "I am directing it, of course."
I looked over at Dad, who seemed as if he had expected that answer all along. The worst part was that he didn't speak on the matter at all, letting me handle the situation.
Urgh!
"We both are only 16, Evan," I said slowly. "I don't think you or I have enough experience to make a full-length feature film at the moment. We need someone else at the helm. Not to mention you have full-time school right now, and by summer holidays, shooting of [Harry Potter] would have begun. So you'll have to either take a long leave of absence or postpone shooting for more than a year."
Evan was clearly at a loss for words. I would be too if I were in his place. But some things are non-negotiable. As per my initial estimate, making this film will take around $25 million, a sum that I would have to invest out of my [Goblet of Fire] earnings. Given that I had earned upwards of $110 million (pre-tax) for it, I could spend that money easily. The problem was that I didn't trust Evan enough to give him such a large sum for his first film. Most aspiring filmmakers use less than a million to make their debut film. It would be foolish of me to invest such a large sum that could result in a box office disaster.
"You said that I could direct your music videos," Evan said accusingly.
"That offer is still open," I said placatingly. At his confused expression, I explained, "If you don't want someone else to direct the film, then we will not make the film right now. We will wait for both of us to grow up for a few years, probably when I have finished [Harry Potter] and you are done with your school. In the meantime, I will release my music album as planned, and you can direct a few of my videos. Then, when we finally make the film, I will write some new songs for it."
"But…" Evan began but didn't finish. He looked away from me, pondering over the two options that I had given him.
"Why don't you choose a middle ground?" Dad spoke up for the first time.
"What do you mean by that?" Evan asked.
"I mean that if you choose someone else to direct the film, the music videos inside the film can still be shot by you," Dad explained. "Music videos are usually shot in one or two days, so they can be finished on the weekends, not affecting your school life massively. Meanwhile, you can get the credit of being the screenwriter and an associate producer on the film, which would be very good for your resume given your age."
Usually, Dad's idea would not work because musical songs in a film are an integral part of the story and are shot in continuity. But the way the script had been written, there were at least six songs that could be shot today, without even casting the female lead or anyone else except me.
"That's an excellent idea," I praised Dad.
"Thank you," Dad nodded at me appreciatively before turning to Evan. "Also, if your videos are really good, I promise that I will finance your first film provided you finish your schooling and at least two years of working full-time on a film set as an Assistant Director."
Evan nodded slowly, taking in Dad's very generous offer.
"The choice is yours, Evan," I said after a few moments.
"Fine," he replied after what felt like an eternity. "As much as I want to make the film myself, I want to see it made first and foremost. We have a very good script and song list going for us. If you release the songs, we'll have to redo the script later on based on the new songs, and I don't know how that will turn out to be."
I resisted the urge to celebrate in joy and settled on giving him a smile, "Thanks, bro."
"Whatever," he said grumpily before changing the topic. "I think I agree with you that Stephen Daldry will be fine for it."
"I'll arrange a meeting with him later this week," I said. "But first and foremost, we have to get the songs recorded. Would you like to come along to the studio for my first session?"
"Not today," he shook his head. "I have a big assignment due tomorrow."
"But you'll be free to come with me to Sundance in two weeks, right?"
"Yeah," he nodded with a grin. "I won't miss that for anything. My friends are so jealous that I get to go and they don't."
"Enough talk, boys," Dad interrupted. "Troy, we will be late for the recording session if we don't leave soon. Doug is very particular about tardiness."
I nodded as I got up to get ready.
Douglas Saunders was the music producer Dad had selected for me to record my songs. It was quite an enlightening conversation that followed when I floated the idea with Dad to get me a deal with a music record label.
(Flashback)
"Only a naive or desperate person would approach a record label if they have enough funds of their own," Dad said as a matter of fact.
I had heard that record labels trap musicians in long-term predatory contracts, but I had no idea how.
"Explain this whole record label business to me as if I'm a five-year-old with no knowledge of the music industry," I asked.
Dad laughed at my phrasing but did as I had asked and went into a detailed explanation.
"I did some research when I was producing the first [Harry Potter] film. We had almost included a song in it that Chris Columbus loved, but left it out at the last moment because the record label was being a dick with their demands."
He shook his head in reminiscence, "Anyways, what these record labels do is that initially they will bear all the costs of recording sessions, music videos, everything, but in exchange, they give you only 15-20% of what they earn. So if your album earns them, say, a million dollars, you will get only $200k at max. But if you were to record and promote your songs on your own, leaving out the distribution part, it may cost you around half a million initially to record an album and promote it, but over time, you can earn much more than you ever could with an outside label. Not to mention, you will retain full rights to your songs for eternity."
I nodded as I understood what he was getting at.
Essentially, music labels were for those poor souls who couldn't afford to spend half a million dollars to make and promote their own albums. I could. So it made sense for me to create a record label of my own.
(Flashback End)
(Break)
"You are late," said Douglas Saunders in a no-nonsense tone. He was in his thirties and had a very pale complexion. That, when added to his dark eyes and hair, made him look quite like a vampire. He had been a music producer for more than a decade and had worked with a lot of renowned artists like The Cranberries, and The Spice Girls.
"I'm sorry, Doug," I smiled sheepishly at him. "I have no excuse."
He shook his head before motioning me toward the recording booth we had rented for the week. "Let's not waste any more time. We've recorded all the harmonies as you wanted, now all that's left is your vocals before we finalize the songs."
I nodded once before taking a seat inside the recording booth, while Dad sat outside beside Douglas, both older men wearing headphones to listen to my upcoming vocals.
I had spent many days with Douglas going over each song and what exactly I wanted from him and his team of musicians. Initially, I was a little skeptical about giving over the reins of my work to someone else, but Dad convinced me that I couldn't do everything myself all the time.
The biggest reason I agreed to work with Douglas eventually was that he was not averse to using EDM in songs produced by him. A lot of traditional music producers do not like the use of any form of electronic music. Not all my songs included EDM, but a few did—like the one I was recording at the moment.
I wore noise-canceling headphones that blocked out most of the sound from my surroundings before giving a thumbs-up to Douglas. He shot me an okay sign before the music started playing in my headphones. The music that played out was exactly as I had envisioned. I had to give kudos to Douglas for recreating the exact thing I had done using my home music system, only better and more professional sounding. In this song, vocals mattered a lot less than the background music, which was mostly EDM.
As the music reached the correct point, I started singing.
(We Found Love - Rihanna ft. Calvin Harris)
~: Yellow diamonds in the light
Now we're standing side by side
As your shadow crosses mine
What it takes to come alive
It's the way I'm feeling I just can't deny
But I've gotta let it go
We found love in a hopeless place
We found love in a hopeless place :~
With each passing moment in the song, I got more and more engrossed in the singing. I even forgot that I was recording in a studio. I just sang with passion—a song that I probably loved in another life so much so that I remembered the lyrics even in this one when I started writing a dance track.
"How was that?" I asked Douglas after finishing the opening verse.
Only then did I realize that Douglas and Dad looked as if they were in a daze.
"Hello?" I asked again, a little irritated. "Were you even listening to me sing?"
Doug looked sheepish for a moment before nodding. "Yeah, sorry. It was amazing. I just didn't expect you to sing like that. I probably should have stopped you earlier, but I thought it would help loosen up your voice a little."
"What do you mean by 'sing like that'?" I asked.
"You sang as if you were performing on the West End," he said as a matter of fact. "Don't get me wrong, you were excellent, but pop music is much more restrained than musical theater when it comes to emotions and vocals."
I nodded. "Okay, then let's do it again until I get it right."
Douglas nodded once before giving me the go-ahead to start again.
(Break)
January 2005, Warner Bros HQ, Burbank, CA
I sat opposite WB CEO Barry Meyer as he and his group of executives listened to my newly recorded album, each wearing their respective headphones. On my right, Dad sat with a bored expression, while on the left, Tobias looked nervous. The three of us were the only ones not wearing headphones because we had already heard the full album multiple times while discussing the film in detail over the last week.
Tobias shifted closer to me and whispered, "Are you sure they're the right studio for this job? I don't recall any musicals made by them recently."
"Let's just wait for them to finish," I whispered back. "Also, it would be better to voice your concerns when we're not in their office."
Looking properly chastised, he went back to his original position. Perfect timing, too, because just then Barry Meyer removed his headphones. It hadn't been enough time for him to have listened to the entire album, which was around an hour long, so he must have stopped in between. As soon as he did, the other executives followed suit, some very reluctantly.
"So?" I asked Barry curiously. "What do you say?"
Barry smiled genially. "I'm a man of my word, Troy. It may have been years since that day, but I haven't forgotten my promise. I don't even need to discuss this with the others to know that this film will make a lot of money. From what little I heard, this is one hell of an album. I'll definitely finish it later, but for now, let's talk details. To begin with, your script."
"What about it?" I asked.
"Are you sure it was written by you and your brother?" he asked. "Because it's very good. Initially, I was a little skeptical, but once I realized how it connects to the songs, it made a lot of sense."
"Thank you," I nodded in gratitude. "Most of it is Evan. I just helped him connect the songs in the story. Stephen Daldry has agreed to direct, and he made some suggestions that we've incorporated into the script."
"You must be proud of your boys, eh Steve?" Barry turned to Dad, who didn't look thrilled with the direction of the conversation.
"Very proud," he said simply. "Now can we get to the point?"
Barry's smile widened slightly as he shifted the topic again. "I saw your other two films personally at an internal screening last week, and I have to say your choice of films is very good."
"Thank you." I smiled, but only on the surface. He was starting to irritate me by going around in circles. I had the feeling he was testing our patience.
I had sent copies of [Brick] and [The Perks of Being a Wallflower] to all the major Hollywood studios, hoping to secure the best distribution deal by bundling them together. Disney, Sony, and Paramount didn't show any interest. Fox and Universal made offers worth considering.
Fox offered $20 million upfront and 15% of all gross revenue, from theaters to home media. Universal's options were either $25 million upfront with no residuals, or a $10 million advance plus all profits after deducting a 15% commission.
Warner Bros, though, made the best offer: $25 million upfront, plus 25% of gross revenue from both films in perpetuity, after they have recovered that $25m.
If this were a blockbuster like Star Wars, the Fox deal might have made more sense since 85% of profits would far exceed 25% of gross revenue. But for small-budget indie films expected to gross under $100 million (like Brick and Perks), the extra $15 million upfront from WB more than compensated for the percentage difference.
While I had verbally agreed to Warner Bros' offer, we hadn't signed the contract yet because I had a bright idea: remind Barry about a promise he made a few years ago to finance a mid-budget film for me. Now, with my third film in the mix, it seemed like the perfect time to cash in on that promise.
"Can we please get to the point, Barry?" Dad said, his tone a bit heated. "I have another appointment in an hour. We can talk about pleasantries and film choices some other time."
"Okay, I'll get to the point," Barry nodded plainly before looking directly at me. "I'll agree to let you make this film just the way you want, as long as you agree to renegotiate your [Harry Potter] salary."
"What?" I asked, surprised. I hadn't expected this at all.
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