The Greatest Showman - Chapter 638: Both Pros and Cons

If everyone gets what they want, that would, of course, be the best outcome. For Renly to star in the Fast & Furious spin-off and sequel, Andy was fully on board—both hands and feet in favor. It was an increasingly lucrative franchise, and Renly's character had garnered widespread acclaim. A deal like that was not one to be rejected lightly. However, Universal Pictures was playing hardball, refusing to budge and applying pressure from all directions, trying to force Renly into submission.

Thinking back to his personal visit to Universal, Andy found it easy to draw a conclusion: Universal had never taken Renly seriously. Regardless of Vin Diesel's role in this power play, the situation was clear—the studio had no intention of negotiating in good faith.

Whether it was securing a role in Fast & Furious with better pay and status, leveraging his position for another blockbuster opportunity, or even creating bargaining power for Paul Walker and future successors, Renly had options. The major studios remained his best bet, but any move had to be carefully calculated.

Walking away from Fast & Furious only to end up in a box-office disaster would be the worst-case scenario—burning bridges with Universal and taking a financial hit. That was why the highly anticipated Black Shadow was such a crucial prospect. In comparison, The Ring Messenger seemed to lack the same leverage.

The Ring Messenger was produced by Final Stage Entertainment, a company less than seven years old. It had made its mark with films like Hotel Rwanda, Lord of War, I Wasn't There, and An Education. While it had a solid track record in independent cinema, it lacked the clout to stand up to Universal. The company's biggest production to date, Lord of War, had a budget of just $45 million. Most of its projects relied on co-financing with other indie studios.

Simply put, compared to a major studio, Final Stage Entertainment had little power or influence.

"Have you read through all the scripts?" Andy asked, his gaze sharp. Roy also turned his attention to Renly. This was Roy's first real test as manager, and he had assumed Renly had spent his vacation completely detached from work. But now, it seemed they had underestimated him.

Renly shrugged with a smile. "I was on vacation, not bedridden. Reading is a great pastime. Unfortunately, the only script that truly interests me doesn't seem like the best option right now."

"I didn't expect you to be drawn to sci-fi scripts," Andy remarked. He had gone through all the scripts as well—some to throw off Universal, some to test Roy, and some as genuine contenders.

The Ring Messenger was one of them.

Andy had shortlisted The Ring Messenger, Django Unchained, and John Carter, but he was skeptical about John Carter. The project lacked a defining element that would make it stand out, which was why he had continued discussions with Warner Bros.

Finding the perfect project—one with a strong script, a fitting role, a substantial budget, and attractive remuneration—was no easy task. If Warner Bros. fell through, Andy was prepared to turn to 20th Century Fox. If that failed, The Ring Messenger remained an option.

Sci-fi was a unique genre in the world of blockbusters. Some, like Blade Runner, had modest budgets ($28 million), while others, like Avatar, demanded astronomical sums ($250 million). Box office success wasn't always the measure of value—strong word-of-mouth could keep a film alive even if it initially underperformed.

"It's the script that matters, not the genre," Renly replied simply. Roy nodded in agreement.

"So, The Ring Messenger remains an option," Andy acknowledged. But the subtext was clear—it wasn't the first choice. It was merely a fallback.

Andy's eyes flicked to Roy, offering a silent apology. The nine scripts Roy had submitted had all been set aside. Roy had essentially done a pointless job.

Yet Roy remained unfazed. Renly's choices aligned with his own instincts—a promising sign for their future collaboration. Andy, on the other hand, was someone he'd have to navigate carefully.

"So, does that mean you have a better alternative?" Roy asked, his gaze landing on another script in Renly's hands, though Renly had yet to open it.

Andy chuckled. "I wouldn't call it a replacement. But…" He paused, considering his words. "If you like The Ring Messenger, there's another project that might be an even better fit."

There was hesitation in Andy's voice, a stark contrast to the enthusiasm he had displayed for Black Shadow. Renly picked up on it immediately.

"You don't sound very convincing," Renly teased.

Andy didn't dodge the issue. "Right now, it's just a concept. I've reached out to Warner Bros. three times, each time speaking to a different producer. It's clear that even Warner Bros. hasn't fully committed yet. They've bought the script rights, but nothing else is set. No director, no screenwriter for revisions. The project is still in limbo."

That kind of uncertainty wasn't unusual in Hollywood. Studios greenlit dozens of projects every year, some of which would take months to develop, others a decade. A film's momentum often depended on a key driving force—a producer, director, or lead actor—who could push it forward. Otherwise, it risked being shelved indefinitely.

Even with a strong advocate, the speed of development depended on their influence. Black Shadow, for instance, had Tim Burton at the helm. With his billion-dollar box-office success and decades of industry connections, he could rally talent and resources quickly.

The project Andy was referring to, however, lacked that kind of heavyweight backing.

"I've done some digging," Andy continued. "From what I've found, Warner Bros. has tentatively allocated around $100 million for this project. It's a sci-fi script, meaning heavy reliance on visual effects. But they haven't locked in a director or further script revisions yet. The lead producer, Tim Lewis, is currently trying to push it forward."

"Tim Lewis?" Roy repeated. "Co-producer of the later Harry Potter films?"

Andy nodded. Tim Lewis had started as an assistant director, debuting with Steven Spielberg's Empire of the Sun. Over his 15-year career, he had built strong ties with Warner Bros. He was credited as a co-producer on Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix, cementing his relationship with the studio. However, his influence outside Warner Bros. was limited, meaning his ability to fast-track projects was weak.

It was a double-edged sword.

No wonder Andy was hesitant. Compared to Black Shadow, this sci-fi project lacked immediate viability. As a bargaining chip against Universal, it was still too weak. Warner Bros. alone wouldn't be enough—Renly needed more influential producers and a well-established director attached.

"But?" Renly prompted.

Andy leaned back slightly, tapping his fingers on his stomach. "It was on the 2010 Black List. It earned forty-five votes, ranking third."

That alone was a game-changer.

"I read the script carefully," Andy continued. "As a commercial film, as a sci-fi film—it's excellent. It has the essence of Groundhog Day mixed with The Butterfly Effect. The Ring Messenger has a similar feel. But the most important thing? The protagonist is tailor-made for you. It's not just a lead role; it has depth and challenges an actor's range."

That kind of endorsement wasn't given lightly. Andy's praise was on par with his enthusiasm for Black Shadow.

"That said, a great script is only the foundation. Without the right director, cast, and studio backing, it's still a risk," Andy admitted. "If I had to choose, I'd still lean toward Black Shadow."

"A Black List script?" Roy mused. "Commercial films rarely make that list."

Andy grinned. "That's exactly why I couldn't ignore it. Now, it's up to Renly to decide."