Chapter 137: The Competitor

Before contacting Dean and Paul Greengrass, the preliminary meeting between production manager Andrew and James Wan's agent Edward was summarized and presented to Michael Davenport.

"Edward rejected the $1 million offer," Andrew told Michael. "He believes it severely undervalues James Wan."

Michael knew that with two consecutive blockbuster hits, James Wan's market value had significantly increased. So, he had raised the offer from $300,000 to $1 million, but this clearly did not sway Edward or James Wan.

"What are their terms?" Michael asked.

Andrew recalled, "Edward wants the payment split into two parts: a base fee and a backend profit share." He glanced at Michael before continuing, "The base fee also needs to follow the structure typical for mainstream commercial projects."

Michael stayed silent, listening carefully.

"If we want James Wan involved from the pre-production phase, we need to pay him $500,000 as a development service fee. From formal prep to the end of shooting, the primary labor fee is $2 million," Andrew listed out. "And another $500,000 for post-production work."

Michael frowned slightly. Independent films don't follow such structured phases, making them somewhat chaotic. Commercial projects, however, have a set operating mode and higher budgets, allowing directors like James Wan to demand more varied payments.

Successful commercial directors, unlike art-house directors, have the leverage to demand different types of fees.

For example, during the planning and pre-production stages, the indie film industry assumes it's part of the director's job, and the earlier the director joins, the better for the production. The company won't pay extra for this involvement.

But successful commercial directors do not see it this way. Their agents often separate these stages and demand additional payments.

Edward might appear straightforward, but his methods were far from simple.

Andrew added, "Edward also wants significant control during post-production. He doesn't ask for final cut privilege but wants James Wan to have the right to decide the film's length."

Michael didn't hesitate, "That's out of the question. We can't negotiate that."

Directors typically think the longer the film, the better. They aim to express their vision as completely as possible. Without such constraints, most directors would go overboard. Think about Peter Jackson's Return of the King director's cut—he still wasn't satisfied with its length.

"And the profit share?" Andrew continued, "Edward is asking for 15% of the total profits."

This wasn't particularly unreasonable. Michael could guess that Edward knew asking for upfront box office shares would be ridiculous.

Michael thought for a moment and said, "We can do a profit share but cap it at 5%. Try to keep the base fee as low as possible, ideally under $2 million. There's a condition: James Wan must sign on for two director contracts with Sandsea Entertainment, for the sequel to The Purge and Final Destination 2. We can increase the fee and share slightly for the latter."

Even though James Wan's fame was significantly due to Michael, The Purge sequel and Final Destination 2 wouldn't bring him artistic achievements or high-end projects.

In this situation, a well-known director wouldn't easily give up his interests.

Hiring a known, successful director inevitably means high fees.

Michael added, "Continue negotiations with Edward. I'll spread the word that we're considering other directors as well, to apply some pressure. As for those living arrangements and similar perks, negotiate as you see fit. As long as it's not outrageous, agree to it."

"Got it," Andrew understood Michael's bottom line. "I'll handle it."

After Andrew left, Michael initially thought of calling Edward but decided against it. It was better to let Andrew handle the negotiations for now.

As the decision-maker, he needed to show that James Wan wasn't the only option for the director's chair.

This was true in reality too.

Michael wanted to continue working with James Wan to mitigate risk.

After handling some work, Michael dialed Paul Greengrass's number, finding out that Paul was back in England.

In Surrey, England, Paul Greengrass was mowing his lawn when he received Michael's call.

"Paul, why'd you stop?"

Standing at the house's entrance, Paul's wife, Margaret, yelled, "Keep going! You have to finish today!"

Ignoring his wife's shouting, Paul pulled out his phone. Hearing the familiar American English, he immediately shut off the lawnmower.

Margaret found it odd. Why wasn't he responding? She started walking over, ready to scold him, but noticed her previously despondent husband suddenly become animated.

His once gloomy face lit up, his downturned mouth lifted into a smile, and his lifeless eyes shone brightly.

It was as if a soulless body suddenly came to life!

Margaret felt uneasy. Did Paul find someone else in America?

Why else would he be so downcast since returning, constantly clutching his phone as if waiting for a call...

"Yes! No problem! I'll head to Los Angeles right away!" Paul's voice was loud with excitement. "Mr. Davenport, I'm ready to take on any action film that fits my style!"

Hearing this, Margaret relaxed. It was work-related.

Paul hung up and shouted to his wife, "Pack my bags! I'm booking a flight! I'll be back in half an hour, then off to London for a direct flight to Los Angeles!"

Margaret was momentarily stunned by his loud voice but didn't move.

Paul shouted again, "Hurry up! This is important for my career!"

Though dissatisfied with Paul, Margaret buried her feelings when she heard it concerned his career. She hurried back inside, pulling out his suitcase to start packing.

Paul returned in under twenty minutes, grabbed the suitcase, and left without another word. Margaret followed him to the door, seeing that he had already called a taxi.

All her dissatisfaction turned into worry. She shouted, "Don't rush. Be careful on the road!"

Paul waved and got into the taxi.

Arriving at London Heathrow, he checked in and entered the departure lounge, finally calming down.

Buying a bottle of water, he chuckled at himself. Almost fifty, and he was acting like an inexperienced kid.

But the thought of an action film from Michael made him anxious again.

Paul knew that his long-cherished style could only be realized in Hollywood. Even top British companies needed Hollywood's support for high-budget action films.

After experiencing failure, he understood the importance of opportunity.

Paul thought of Michael. Could he find another producer in Hollywood who understood and supported his style?

It wasn't impossible, but it was rare.

Only someone young and bold like Michael would give a director such freedom. Older producers seldom granted such autonomy.

Thinking it over, Paul felt this was his best chance. For him, there was no better way to prove himself than to rise again from where he fell.

Finally, he boarded the plane and safely arrived in Los Angeles.

Paul didn't notify anyone, not even his agent Dean. He went straight to Burbank after landing and met the young producer and company owner he had been eagerly anticipating.

"Mr. Davenport." Paul looked nervously at Michael.

"So quick?" Michael pressed a hidden intercom button on his desk, instructing preparations outside, then looked at Paul's travel-worn face. "Why don't you rest first..."

Paul, anxious, said, "I'm not tired. Let's discuss work first."

Michael wasn't in a hurry. He handed Paul an original copy of The Bourne Identity and the first third of the script. "We'll talk tomorrow. Take these and see if they suit you. We'll talk if they do."

Paul noticed Michael's reserved attitude, fearing he wasn't the only candidate.

Indeed, before leaving the office, someone else hurried in and was led to Michael's office.

"Director Greengrass," someone called out. It was George Clinton, with whom Paul had previously worked. "Why are you here today?"

Paul smiled, "Mr. Davenport has something to discuss with me."

George chatted with Paul for a while. Paul occasionally glanced towards Michael's office. After a while, the person who had entered earlier came out, also holding a copy of The Bourne Identity.

A competitor, indeed.

After the person left, Paul said his goodbyes. He found a place to read the script and grew more excited the more he read.

It was another espionage story but far better than the previous one and perfectly suited his style.