Expensive lesson

The night grew late, and Lyman sat at the table, opened his notebook, and began brainstorming new film concepts. This time, he planned to make a war film.

Well, the reason behind it was that the previous week, with nothing else to do, he went to the cinema and watched "We Were Soldiers". Upon returning to the hotel, a desire to do something had been brewing deep within him.

In truth, war films always held a certain romanticism that belonged solely to the hearts of men. They never lacked an audience or market, making them a favorable genre for movies. However, as he sat there, facing the blank manuscript with a furrowed brow, he couldn't grasp any inspiration in his mind.

War films would never go out of style in the history of cinema, and there were plenty of options and events to depict. There were films like "Hacksaw Ridge", which received critical acclaim, and "American Sniper", which had significant financial returns.

But Lyman was aware of his limitations. He knew that handling large-scale macro shots wasn't his strong suit. In other words, he lacked the experience required for such grandiose control. Forcing himself to make such a film could very well fail to achieve the desired effect, so he promptly dismissed the idea.

So, what else was there?

"Fury?" Lyman murmured softly.

Undoubtedly, that film was also a good one. It depicted small-scale conflicts between Allied forces and German tanks in the final stages of World War II. It created an incredibly realistic atmosphere on the battlefield and explored the soldiers' reflections on the human aspect of war. If all these aspects were well-executed, it would move the audience and generate a substantial market response.

Lyman carefully analyzed the difficulty of shooting "Fury" and compared it to his own abilities and filming experience. He realized it was indeed feasible.

Characterizing the scenes and individuals would be much less compared to other war epics, and that was a rhythm he was familiar with. The filming process wouldn't require complex CGI techniques or special effects; it could be accomplished by building practical sets. In terms of budgeting, it wouldn't excessively drain funds, minimizing investment risks.

The only issue was that he hadn't studied any tactics and didn't know how to command infantry and tanks to coordinate their actions and complete missions. However, he could seek the help of a real tank officer or a professor who had studied World War II tank units to assist in arranging specific action commands and on-site coordination.

With concrete solutions to these issues, the remaining task was character development. Portraying characters was crucial in war films. Well, the combination of veterans and rookies was the safest and most effective approach. It was easier to portray the theme and ensure dramatic elements.

With these thoughts in mind, Lyman began outlining the characters.

"Wardaddy": Serious Sergeant, pragmatic, adheres to orders, and has certain moral principles—a common military officer image.

"Bible": A Christian, the tank's assistant commander, also responsible for operating the main gun system. In his long military career, only the bible can soothe his troubled heart.

"Machine": A rookie originally trained as an intelligence system officer in the rear but was sent to the front lines. He received higher education but now must learn how to survive on the battlefield.

"Gordo": Responsible for driving the combat tank, and he loves alcohol.

"Coon-Ass": The loader; fearless and disregards life.

...

Chris stood in front of a desk, slightly lowering his head, his expression tense, without saying a word. Since "3 Idiots" achieved success, he had been feeling down. Now, he found himself in an office at Miramax.

Across from him, Harvey Weinstein sat back in a large boss chair, his slightly chubby face devoid of any joy, his expression serious.

"Sorry, boss," Chris finally couldn't bear the weight of that gaze anymore and spoke up proactively. "It's all my fault for misjudging Lyman's project prospects, which resulted in the consecutive losses of two high-value films for the company." Although he was merely a peripheral figure in this incident, he had to shoulder all the blame.

If we were talking about the one who had a falling-out with director Lyman, it should be the company employee who betrayed him initially. Moreover, the problem lay with Harvey Weinstein's lack of mercy. But who made these two individuals his boss, and one had already resigned and left?

In that sense, Chris was quite unlucky. He had dealt with Lyman several times and held a relatively high position in the company, making him the perfect scapegoat. Who asked him to get involved in the negotiations and distribution discussions? It was indeed unfair.

It was a well-known workplace principle: If a subordinate makes a mistake, it's undoubtedly the subordinate's fault. If the boss makes a mistake, it's still the subordinate's fault. Chris had learned this rule early on in his career.

As he spoke, he kept his head down, seemingly trying to use this more sincere approach to win over Harvey Weinstein.

"He was supposed to be a loyal partner to Miramax," Harvey Weinstein finally broke the silence, his tone icy and harsh. "But why did the screening department offend him like this?"

It was all because of your demands—to acquire international film rights at the lowest possible price. Otherwise, why would we resort to some manipulations in the distribution contracts? This thought flashed through his mind, but Chris wasn't foolish enough to say it out loud.

"Fine, you can leave now. Pay more attention to your own department in the future," Harvey Weinstein said.

Chris let out a sigh of relief, lightened his steps, and slowly left the office.

Harvey Weinstein's gaze fell on a report lying on the desk in front of him, and his chubby face twitched slightly. After all, he was Harvey Weinstein. How could he entirely shift the blame for this series of mistakes onto his subordinate?

But looking at the latest North American box office rankings on the report, he couldn't help but feel a burning sensation in his heart. They were supposed to be the first to collaborate, but instead, the established partnership fell apart. Where could he reason with all this!

Harvey Weinstein's eyes moved downward and glanced at the latest rankings. The number one spot was still occupied by that glaring title, "3 Idiots", with $10M. This film, with a production cost of around $6M, had raked in millions in the North American market over the past three weeks and held the top spot for two weeks in a row.

The figures were astonishing. Initially, he had estimated the North American box office for this film to be around $50M, and that was only possible with an exclusive awards campaign system after winning the Best Foreign Language Film Oscar.

The reality proved that Harvey Weinstein had made a serious miscalculation. Ah, no, it wasn't just a miscalculation, but rather a complete lack of foresight. After all, they didn't even give him a chance to negotiate. He suddenly felt stifled. Even if he believed it was because of last year's incident that resulted in such a massive profit slipping from his hands, it still hurt.

Even if it reached his estimated $50 million, it would have been an impressive return. Moreover, these weren't the final box office figures. "3 Idiots" had only been in limited release for not even a whole month, and the revenue from overseas box office, home video sales, and ancillary rights had yet to be taken into account. When all was said and done, how much profit would it generate?

Despite successfully operating numerous outstanding films over the years and winning multiple Oscars, this rough estimation still caused Harvey Weinstein immense heartache! Especially because it was his own company that had inadvertently ruined such a promising situation. This fact tore at his heart and mocked his short-sightedness, his inability to recognize talent.

But who could have known that a newcomer director with average filming techniques and no spark would evolve into what he was today? Otherwise, he wouldn't have been so merciless. At the time, he considered this director to be a dime a dozen in the film industry, not worth the investment. If they ended up being a failure, so be it.

Lyman Lattes!

Thinking of this name made Harvey Weinstein uncomfortable. This young director had toyed with him and Chris, seemingly letting go of the past and appearing willing to collaborate. But in reality, he remained stubborn, refusing to give even the slightest opportunity. And he claimed to be insignificant, unable to speak up. Did he really think Harvey Weinstein was a fool?

The suppressed anger in his chest made Harvey Weinstein extremely uncomfortable. He stood up and paced around. Then he approached the floor-to-ceiling window in the office, took a deep breath, and finally felt somewhat relieved.

Could he be the next Quentin Tarantino?

Harvey Weinstein crossed his arms, gazing into the distance, and an idea involuntarily emerged in his mind.

Discovering Quentin, that talented and eccentric director, had propelled Miramax's rapid growth. It was one of his proudest accomplishments. However, he couldn't deny one thing—although Quentin's films were a celebration for critics and a small group of fans, they weren't exactly the mainstream audience's delicacy. It seemed like he lacked the accessibility that Lyman brought to his films.

Yes, in Harvey Weinstein's opinion, Lyman's works catered more to the taste of the general audience while still encompassing thought-provoking elements. It was a pity that he had missed out on him.

But everything was not yet set in stone. He wanted to see how far this young director could go. Harvey Weinstein had led Miramax to its current level of success, and while the company may still have many issues, he would never give up easily. After all, he had managed to keep Quentin obediently serving for so long, and even though his temperament was even stranger, he had been able to subdue him. Why couldn't he do the same with Lyman?

As the helmsman of a company, Harvey Weinstein might have various quirks and well-known flaws, but learning from failures was the most basic quality. He was not a talent who only knew regret; he understood what an exceptional director meant to the film industry.

Returning to his desk, Harvey Weinstein put away the report, picked up his pen, and wrote the letters "Lyman Lattes" heavily on a blank sheet of paper. He placed the paper under the transparent glass layer of the desk, serving as a reminder and a lesson.

It's not over yet!