[Chapter 585: Dad]
The so-called butterfly effect is actually an example of chaos theory, with one of the most classic examples being how a horseshoe nail brought down a nation. The simpler explanation of chaos theory is that everything consists of countless 'fragments,' and any change in these 'fragments' can have a significant impact on the whole. Making a movie involves going through numerous unpredictable 'fragments' from the inception of an idea to its final completion. It could be a screenwriter suddenly coming up with a brand new idea, or maybe an editor mistakenly cutting a particular scene. Therefore, once history starts to deviate, recreating a movie in this timeline to be exactly like the original is nearly impossible.
Although the creative core of Braveheart was Mel Gibson, the outstanding cinematography and score were largely influenced by the cinematographer and composer. If the new visuals and music deviated too much from the original style, the entire movie could end up looking completely different.
Eric didn't discuss too many script details with the Weinstein brothers and Mel Gibson; instead, he focused on those details that could influence the whole film's style. Hollywood had a lot of eccentric stars, but none would be foolish enough to throw a tantrum in front of a big Hollywood boss, even if that boss was ten years younger. With Ed Limato and the Weinsteins warming up the atmosphere, the dinner went quite well.
Despite Mel Gibson being a top-tier Hollywood star, he still couldn't compete with those at the very top of the pyramid. Eric recalled hearing that a few years back, Mel Gibson had concealed overseas box office earnings during the distribution of his film with Universal, Bird on a Wire. The entire crew was promptly escorted from the Universal lot while he directed his first film, The Man Without a Face, which led to quite a stir in the tabloids. It was likely that Mel Gibson learned a good lesson about his standing in the industry during that incident.
As Eric and Elisabeth walked out of the restaurant, they bid farewell to the Weinsteins and got into Elisabeth's red BMW.
...
Elisabeth drove and casually said to Eric, who was in the passenger seat, "You don't seem to like Mel Gibson very much, do you?"
Eric responded, "It's not about liking or disliking. His movies are quite good, but his personal character leaves much to be desired. And, you know, while stars rarely interact directly with the studios -- most of it is handled by agents -- they also seldom have close ties with top executives of movie companies. Positions differ, especially when it comes to discussing salaries."
Elisabeth chuckled and replied, "So everyone envies Firefly, huh?"
Eric looked confused and asked, "What do you mean?"
Elisabeth explained, "The characters in Firefly's animated films are Hollywood's most low-maintenance 'stars.' They won't negotiate salary with the boss, throw tantrums, or go on strike; they work hard, still happily hand over their likeness rights, so you guys can make more money."
Eric smiled slightly but then realized something. He asked, "Is Fox looking to make animated films too?"
"Yes," she said. "But we don't throw money around like you do. While Dad maintains tight control over News Corp, he still has obligations to shareholders. If we spend too much on R&D without results, it could be trouble. My dad envies you guys; Firefly is privately held and doesn't have to deal with all sorts of public disclosures each year. We don't have to struggle to explain every business move to shareholders. Honestly, last year, News Corp's accounting expenses due to various audits surpassed $12 million. That money could fund a good movie."
Eric ignored the lady's complaints and asked, "So, what are you going to do?"
"Fox intends to start with 2D animation; it's simpler and requires less investment, and finding hand-drawn animation staff isn't too hard."
Eric almost blurted out that he could provide 'talent.' However, if it were another company, he might have agreed without hesitation, but he couldn't bring himself to let down his girl.
"Forget about doing any 2D animation. I'm telling you, I'm planning to shut down Disney's hand-drawn animation division. If you're going to do it, just dive directly into 3D animation."
Elisabeth's eyes widened in surprise, "What? You want to shut down Disney Animation Studio?"
Eric shook his head. "Of course not. I'm just planning to halt the production of 2D hand-drawn animation. Disney Animation Studio will undergo a comprehensive digital transformation."
Elisabeth thought about it and began to understand Eric's intentions. She blinked with some envy and said, "It would be much easier for you guys to switch to 3D animation; you only need to transfer the technology accumulated at Pixar to Disney Animation Studio, while we have to start from scratch."
Eric noticed Elisabeth's pitiful looks and chuckled, "Blinking won't help; I don't have enough people on my side. Firefly plans to expand its animation department to produce one to two films a year, but Pixar can only make one film every two years."
"I certainly wouldn't want your people," Elisabeth replied, blinking again. "Just license the 3D animation software used by Pixar to Fox; you can set the price."
Eric still shook his head, "Unless you sell me 51% of your animation studio; why don't you ask your dad if he's willing?"
"Not a chance," Elisabeth immediately replied for Murdoch, giving Eric a glare before focusing back on the road.
She knew this issue was unlikely to bear fruit. Firefly could monopolize massive 3D animation profits in recent years solely because of Pixar's leading technology. Although Firefly Software had launched Maya for special effects production, it was widely known that the public version was a neutered edition. The core technologies remained firmly in control of Digital Domain and Pixar.
So, if Eric agreed to this deal, Elisabeth would suspect something was off.
As they drove up the winding roads of Beverly Hills late at night, Eric casually glanced at the roadside and asked, "Thousand Oaks should be to the east, right?"
As Elisabeth was about to respond, Eric remembered the car they were in and quickly added, "I know, I know, you moved to a new place."
Elisabeth let out a soft hum before saying, "We now live on Crest Street at the top of the hill."
Eric didn't know where Crest Street was but preferred Thousand Oaks, where Hollywood stars clustered. That area had the best view of Hollywood, and lounging by the villa's swimming pool gave one a feeling of floating above the world. "I still think the villa at Thousand Oaks is nice."
Elisabeth replied with frustration, "I just don't want to be neighbors with that crazy girl Drew anymore."
"I thought you two made up? It wasn't that big a deal, right? Didn't you work things out?"
"Humph," Elisabeth scoffed, turning her head away from Eric.
Though the mansions in Beverly Hills were more luxurious than the last, the infrastructure between them was subpar -- old telephone poles, road lamps that appeared far apart, and barren hillsides. As the car wound its way up the road, Eric was concerned about anything rolling down from a poorly maintained slope.
Finally, they arrived at the top. The red BMW entered a mansion, and Eric stood in the yard, astonished. This place not only overlooked all of Los Angeles but extended views into the northern valley region. The sight was undoubtedly broader than Thousand Oaks.
With a hint of pride, Elisabeth observed Eric's reaction and exclaimed, "This mansion sits atop its own hill, doesn't it rival Thousand Oaks?"
"Of course," Eric nodded in satisfaction, eyeing the mountain road that led to Burbank. It seemed to connect directly to the headquarters of Firefly, making it much closer than the route Eric had taken in recent days. "It works out nicely; I have been too busy to return to Malibu, so I'll stay here."
Elisabeth blushed slightly, saying, "Isn't it customary to seek your host's opinion before deciding?"
Eric laughed, "I've already agreed, so why ask?"
Elisabeth playfully stood on her tiptoes and lightly kicked Eric's leg before conceding, "Let's go inside. Do you want coffee?"
It was only ten o'clock; Eric wasn't sleepy, so he nodded, "Sure."
...
They both pushed open the villa door and stepped into the living room. A dim yellow light illuminated the room, and before Elisabeth could switch on the daylight lamps, they noticed a bright white light coming from the kitchen.
"Maybe Julia forgot to close the fridge," Elisabeth said nonchalantly.
Eric narrowed his eyes suspiciously and pointed. When Elisabeth looked, she saw a white figure lingering near the fridge.
"We don't have any pets. What is that?" Elisabeth said casually, flipping on the daylight lights. Together, they strolled to the kitchen, where they spotted a little person sitting on the floor, happily enjoying a chocolate cake, with a scattering of jars and containers from the fridge surrounding her.
Elisabeth hurried over, snatching the chocolate cake from the little girl, and asked, "Emma, what are you doing here?"
Emma, unhappy about losing her snack, let out a whine. Eric couldn't help but chuckle at the sight of the little girl covered in cream, looking like a dirty little kitten. "Don't you have a nanny?"
Hearing Eric's voice, Emma turned her little head to look at him, staring blankly for two seconds before excitedly stretching out her little hands, saying, "Dad... Daddy."
Elisabeth shot Eric a helpless look but didn't bother trying to correct Emma's address. Handing the little girl over, she said, "You hold her for now. I'll go check if Carly is here. How did this happen?"
Eric guessed Carly was Emma's nanny and didn't mind taking the messy little girl from Elisabeth's hands as they walked out of the kitchen together.
Watching Elisabeth step into a hallway, Eric settled onto the living room sofa with Emma in his arms and gently asked, "Emma, how did you end up alone in the kitchen?"
At three years old, Emma had no trouble communicating anymore. Hugging her belly, she said pitifully, "Emma hungry, Auntie not give, eat."
Eric felt a line of black thread appear on his forehead. It couldn't be that bad -- she was her real aunt, not a stepmother.
Soon, Elisabeth returned, leading a plump woman in a blue nightgown into the living room. With an irritated gesture towards Emma and the mess in the kitchen, she demanded, "How are you looking after this child? Luckily, she was eating cake; what if she had choked on something else?"
The nanny, Carly, wore a guilty expression. "Miss Murdoch, it's not my fault. Miss Roberts returned tonight saying she wanted to care for Emma personally and that she'd put Emma to bed."
Eric retrieved napkins from the table to help clean the cream from Emma's face and asked, "Did Emma have dinner?"
Of course, the nanny knew who Eric was and nodded hesitantly. "Well, Mr. Williams, I... I don't know. Miss Roberts said she would take care of Emma, and I went to rest."
Eric laughed and shook his head, realizing the problem lay with Julia. He waved her off, saying, "You go ahead and rest."
The nanny pointed at the messy kitchen and asked, "Should I clean it up?"
"No need, we can deal with it tomorrow," Eric replied, shaking his head.
Once the nanny left, Eric handed the messy little girl back to Elisabeth. "You should go wash her up. I'll check on Julia -- where is she?"
Elisabeth recognized the main issue concerning Julia's carelessness and pointed to the staircase. "The first room upstairs."
As Eric wiped the cream off his chest, he headed upstairs. Elisabeth glanced at Eric's back and shrugged lightly, taking Emma toward the bathroom.
Upon reaching the top of the stairs, Eric opened a bedroom door and switched on the light. What he saw left him taken aback: Julia was sprawled out on the big bed, covered only by a thin blanket, and the faint scent of alcohol lingered in the air.
*****
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