The Greatest Showman #1082 – Top Pay

Andy Rodgers wasn't surprised, but he certainly wasn't shocked, by Barry Mayer's in-person visit.

Strictly speaking, this was an expected outcome—something that could be attributed to the continuous efforts and promotions led by Andy and the Creative Artists Agency. Everything was going according to plan, and while Andy felt a sense of pride, he quickly controlled his emotions. There was still more work to do.

Facing Renly's calm demeanor, Andy couldn't help but chuckle. "To summarize, Barry's conversation last night had two main points: one, a sequel to Edge of Tomorrow, and two, a pay discussion for Gravity, right? Did Barry mention anything about the cast and crew for the sequel?"

"If he had it his way, he'd want to keep the original team," Renly replied. "Right now, Warner Bros. is working on a new novel with the author of the first book, while our team is brainstorming for the sequel to the film. Clearly, Barry is taking the script and story very seriously."

Renly paused, then added with a grin, "At least for now, that's the official story."

The subtext was a subtle mockery of the business world, where profit is pursued at any cost, often with conflicting messages between what's said publicly and the reality behind the scenes. The unpredictable nature of filmmaking—especially the uncertain factors during production—was something both parties understood well.

Of course, no contract had been signed yet, and Renly had every right to refuse to star in the sequel if he wasn't happy with the script. For now, Renly and Barry were on equal footing, each having the freedom to choose; Renly, in particular, had a stronger hand given his current success.

Andy quickly understood Renly's implication and smiled, though he didn't respond immediately. "Understood. As for the Edge of Tomorrow sequel, I'll continue following up in Los Angeles."

The nature of the sequel project, particularly the arrangements for the crew and Renly's increased salary, would require careful consideration and negotiation. The planning for the Fast & Furious sequels, with all its complexities, served as the closest example.

For now, there was no agreement on paper, and that meant no immediate cause for concern.

"Let's talk salary," Andy shifted gears, returning to the day's main topic. "Do you know how much Edge of Tomorrow is going to bring in?"

Andy was aware that Renly didn't care much about salary, so before diving into the details, he needed to ensure Renly had a basic understanding of the financial situation.

"Let's lower our target a bit and count it at $400 million for the North American box office," Andy said. As of this conversation, the box office had yet to cross that threshold, but it was expected to soon. Experts were even speculating it could hit $500 million. "Then, your salary will be $30 million—pre-tax, of course."

Renly raised an eyebrow in surprise, then let out a soft laugh. "Are you sure there's not an extra zero in there? $3 million and $30 million aren't exactly the same thing."

Pay had never been Renly's main focus. In the past, his independent projects didn't offer particularly high salaries. When Edge of Tomorrow first came up, $10 million seemed like a dream, but with the added 5% box office royalty, Renly was now looking at $30 million.

In fact, based on the final North American box office, which reached $550 million, Renly's actual pre-tax earnings from the film would amount to $37.5 million.

This was an incredible sum—on par with the top earners in Hollywood. To put it simply, Renly had reached the level of stars like Robert Downey Jr. The past decade had seen very few actors, directors, or producers earning this kind of salary, making Renly's rise to stardom nothing short of extraordinary.

"Yes, I'm sure," Andy confirmed, smiling along with Renly. "And trust me, you've earned every cent."

Deep down, Andy shared Renly's surprise. When Renly first rose to prominence with Pacific Rim, Andy had optimistically predicted that in three years, Renly could be a front-runner in Hollywood. But even Andy didn't expect Renly to surpass those expectations so quickly, leapfrogging to the ranks of Hollywood's top superstars. And yet, every step of Renly's journey had been deliberate and grounded in hard work.

"Recently, the big Hollywood studios have been offering $15 million as a base salary for commercial films," Andy added, reinforcing his point.

What Andy didn't mention was that this salary benchmark had become standard practice in the industry, a clear recognition of Renly's status. The Creative Artists Agency, which already had the highest number of $20 million earners, was aiming to push Renly into that exclusive club. They were actively negotiating for his place among the top stars at the agency.

"So, what do you think?" Renly asked, shifting his posture and adopting a knowing look.

Andy, now feeling a little out of his depth, laughed nervously. "Mr. Renly-Hall, do you know what a $30 million salary means? You've officially become a multi-millionaire, and this is your response?"

Renly smirked, teasing, "Mr. Andy Rogers, I know what it means—you'll be getting your cut of $3 million. So, have you decided to retire yet?"

On the other end of the phone, Andy was speechless. Renly chuckled lightly, satisfied with his joke, before adding, "But no, I'm not planning to retire anytime soon. Obviously, there's more work ahead."

For Renly, money had never been the driving factor. He'd always believed that while money could affect the quality of life, it was one's mindset that determined the depth and breadth of life. Still, the extra income offered newfound freedom—freedom from financial worries, allowing him to explore more opportunities and make better choices in the future.

Renly continued, "I have a few ideas, like buying property in Honolulu or Amalfi, or getting a car in London, but... those plans will have to wait. Right now, I'm focused on my work. And when it comes to managing my income, I'll leave that to Matthew Dunlop. That's not my expertise."

Andy, shaking his head in amusement, couldn't resist a chuckle. "Renly, sometimes you really make it hard not to grit my teeth."

Renly laughed again, his self-deprecating humor making Andy pause for a moment before responding, "I think you're going to need to take a side. With all the reporters and people you've rubbed the wrong way, I'm sure the list isn't short."

Andy, now more serious, steered the conversation back to the topic at hand. "So, what are your thoughts on Gravity? Is it a sci-fi film?"

Sci-fi films had been hit or miss in the North American market. While movies like Avatar and Star Trek had succeeded, others like Battleship and Key No. 4 had been disappointing. Major studios were now more cautious about investing in sci-fi films, even with big names attached. The industry was particularly wary when it came to Gravity, the latest project Andy was discussing.

Regarding Renly's potential salary for Gravity, the math was relatively straightforward: If the North American box office surpassed $200 million, Renly would take 10% of the box office; if not, he would settle for a flat $20 million. But the challenge was predicting how well the film would perform, a question no one—be it Barry Mayer, Andy, or Alfonso Cuarón—could answer yet.

There was a general expectation that Gravity would not surpass the $200 million mark. But Andy, ever confident in Renly's potential, was willing to believe that Gravity, with Renly starring in it, might exceed expectations and achieve a far greater box office success.