Chapter 18: The Internal Screening

"Is everyone here?" Lew Wasserman scanned the screening room and said, "Then let's start!"

The first version to be shown was Paul Collins's edit.

Paul Collins was also present, sitting in another corner, glancing at Gilbert, who happened to look back at him.

The two exchanged stares. Paul Collins attempted to intimidate Gilbert with a sharp gaze, but Gilbert countered without backing down.

Paul Collins thought to himself: Kid, you're still young in Hollywood. Let me show you what editing is all about.

Gilbert wasn't bothered by Paul Collins's glare. After all, Collins had been in the industry for years and was still just a small-time editor. Gilbert wasn't concerned.

As expected, Paul Collins's version of the film was conventional Hollywood editing.

There were no surprises, and the film was steady and aligned with Hollywood's usual risk-averse approach.

But for a film that was meant to be unconventional, being steady was the biggest mistake.

In fact, the reaction from the Universal executives after watching Collins's version of *The Shallows* was lukewarm.

Akio Tani looked towards Gilbert in the corner and then asked Lew Wasserman, "Lew, what do you think of this film?"

"It's okay. The visuals are beautiful, and Gwyneth Paltrow's appeal is there. It might turn a profit if pushed to the video market after release," Lou Wassel replied.

A film selection expert added, "It's just an ordinary film with a shark theme. It feels a bit dull. However, some shots are quite good, showing that the director put in effort."

Hearing a more balanced review made Tani's expression improve slightly.

To be honest, although he had pushed for the investment in the film, he hadn't expected it to be a surprise hit.

But seeing it turn out this ordinary was a bit disappointing.

Listening to the discussions, Gilbert, sitting in the left corner, was unconcerned. His version was yet to be shown!

Paul Collins, however, was growing restless. He hadn't anticipated his version receiving such a mediocre reception, though there were no outright negative reviews.

But for Collins, it was still unacceptable.

He had heard that Tom Blake praised Gilbert's edit as amazing. If the company executives preferred Gilbert's version, it would be a devastating blow to Collins.

Unfortunately, as a mere editor, Paul Collins had no voice in this setting.

In an instant, Collins entertained various thoughts, such as cutting the power or threatening to resign, but he refrained from acting on them.

"Next, we have Gilbert's edited version. Let's move on!" Lou Wassel signaled to continue.

Soon, the screen showed the other version of *The Shallows*.

Mike Harris, a film selection expert, found the previous film boring and wasn't interested in another "director's cut."

He began chatting with someone next to him about recent Hollywood gossip.

But a few gasps pulled him back to the screen.

"Holy crab, that was close."

"Shit, is this really a movie? How is this version so different? It's so tense and exciting…"

What's going on? Mike Harris looked intently at the screen, unable to pull his eyes away.

The handheld camera provided a predator's perspective, turning the lens into the shark itself, with the heroine swimming ahead, creating a full immersion experience.

The sharp and dazzling editing, combined with an extremely tight rhythm, was completely different from the previous version.

This film was like a deadly flower, dangerous yet captivating.

It was terrifying, thrilling, and stimulating—a long-lost sensation of exhilarating viewing.

Not only Mike Harris but most attendees of the screening were engrossed in the film, and the room was silent except for the sounds from the screen and heavy breathing, as everyone's emotions were fully engaged.

Watching the heroine, Sally, repeatedly escaping the shark's jaws and trying to save herself.

The story was simple—a beach, a reef, a buoy, and a heroine—yet it was intensely stimulating and entertaining, making adrenaline surge and viewers crave more.

It felt like basking on a summer beach, wanting to shout out: "Great, this is so enjoyable…"

At this point, Gilbert glanced again at Paul Collins, who was completely oblivious.

Paul Collins, biting his lip and sweating, appeared nervous, seemingly frightened by the film's intense plot.

But in reality, Paul Collins was stunned by Gilbert's impressive editing.

The difference was a hundredfold. It looked like a completely different film.

This realization made Paul Collins anxious, knowing that Gilbert's version was far superior, and his own work was a failure.

The film finally ended. The 80-minute movie had been a roller coaster—exciting and intense with no dull moments.

Akio Tani was pleased. This was what he had wanted to see.

"Lew, what do you think of this version?" Inoue asked.

"Um," Lew Wasserman wanted to say it wasn't great, but as a high-ranking executive in the film industry, it was crucial not to be swayed by emotions.

Moreover, a good film was a benefit to Universal Pictures.

So Lew Wasserman honestly replied, "It's excellent. Honestly, I didn't expect the film to be this impressive. It exceeded my expectations."

Akio Tani then asked the other executives, "What about you?"

Mike Harris said, "Mr. Tani, this is the power of editing. The same film can turn into something entirely different with a different cut."

Tom Blake added, "This is Gilbert's edited version. Mr. Wasserman's decision to have two separate cuts was a wise one."

Hearing this, Lew Wasserman's mood improved, while Paul Collins was squirming in his seat.

Collins only wanted to escape from this place. He had no idea Gilbert had such skills, and the result was entirely unexpected.

At this point, the outcome was clear.

Everyone present, except for Inoue, were seasoned industry professionals who could discern which version of the film was better.

Even Tani though not a film expert, thought Gilbert's version was excellent.

Thus, Gilbert's version was chosen for theatrical release.

Now it was time for the distribution head to speak: "Although the film is excellent, we still need to meet in the afternoon to discuss the distribution strategy."

This was sensible advice. After all, *The Shallows* relied on the legacy of *Jaws* and Spielberg's name to generate buzz.

Universal Pictures would need to discuss the best way to release the film.

The afternoon meeting would follow, but for now, the screening was over.

Gilbert stood at the door, sending off the executives, who cast many approving glances and offered praise.

"Gilbert, well done."

"Gilbert, you've inherited your father's filmmaking talent. This film is excellent."

"Keep it up. The future looks bright."

Gilbert nodded continuously, expressing gratitude. He appeared thrilled but was calm inside.

To him, achieving this result was only natural; there was nothing to be overly proud of.

He looked towards Paul Collins's seat, which was already empty. Collins had left as soon as he could.

Given that Collins had previously apologized and made amends, confronting him now would seem petty and vindictive.

It was likely that Collins would lose Universal Pictures' trust, but Gilbert had no intention of dealing with him further, as long as he didn't cause more trouble.

Successes should not be hindered by failures. Instead, one should bravely move forward, never retreating…