The party was undeniably lively.
Renly managed to meet Paul Sorrentino and James Gray, two directors known for their low-budget but distinctive films, and unexpectedly bumped into Ryan Coogler, an up-and-coming black director. They discussed the interplay of light and shadow in film with Arangirodi, delving into the meaning behind shaping cinematic imagery.
However, at the end of the day, Renly still wasn't fond of parties.
Compared to the industry professionals themselves, he was far more interested in the films they created, in the creative techniques and artistic vision poured into them. While Renly had seen most of the films in his previous life, the experience of viewing them on the big screen at Cannes was something special. Still, his preference remained for Berlin.
By the time the party ended, it was just after midnight, and the atmosphere had reached its peak. A group of handsome men and women in bikinis danced through the crowd, rhythmically tapping traditional Brazilian percussion instruments, all leaning on each other's shoulders. The rooftop was transformed into an impromptu dance floor, the energy infectious. Even someone as reserved and shy as Jim Jarmusch couldn't help but join in.
Renly's departure didn't draw any attention.
Back in his hotel room, Renly was ready to recharge. For most, being at Cannes would be filled with endless opportunities, but for Renly, it was a chance to see so many incredible films, each of which he couldn't wait to watch.
After a quick shower and before heading to bed, Renly opened his laptop to check the email Andy had sent.
The email was concise, clear, and well-organized, listing a series of projects with brief descriptions of each. There were no in-depth explanations—just summaries.
Making judgments based on such a simple program was undoubtedly a difficult task.
Many projects appeared flawless in the conception stage—directors, actors, screenwriters, photography, story ideas, and structure all seemed perfect, filled with hope for success. Yet, when the projects went into actual production, they often faced countless setbacks, and the final product sometimes deviated dramatically from the original vision, failing to connect with audiences.
It was similar to a sports team roster: on paper, a team might look formidable, but the game still needs to be played to determine the winner. The Belgian football team was a classic example—on paper, one of the strongest national teams, yet their performances in major tournaments like the European Cup and World Cup often left much to be desired.
Movies were no different.
Looking at the email's contents, there wasn't much to go on. The genres were clear—chick flick, animated feature, action film, etc.—but beyond that, it was hard to make any deep judgments. Andy didn't force Renly to take a stance immediately; he simply wanted Renly to have a baseline, so further negotiations could take place.
For Renly, this was an advantage. The benefits of rebirth were becoming clear.
"Neng 6 Team: Animation, based on the original manga, set in a future world where Tokyo and San Francisco merge. After the Invincible Destruction King, this new project comes from Disney's parent company. The male protagonist's voice is still being cast.
Cinderella: Live-action adaptation of the original animation. Renly would play the prince. An all-star cast is under negotiation.
Tomorrowland: Sci-fi, based on the Disney theme park project. Damon Lindelof is writing the script.
A Star Wars Story: Rogue One: Sci-fi. Male protagonist.
Sin City 2: Crime, based on the original comics. Director Robert Rodriguez returns."
The list was clear and easy to follow. There were no in-depth plot descriptions, but the key details provided enough information to sketch out the outlines of each project.
For example, the two biggest points of interest in Tomorrowland were its roots in the Disney theme park and the involvement of screenwriter Damon Lindelof. As with Pirates of the Caribbean, which was inspired by a theme park ride, Tomorrowland had its own origins in a project that was in decline until Disney revitalized it. Lindelof, famous for his work on Lost, Prometheus, and other sci-fi projects, had been offered a significant sum to write the script—rumored to be around a million dollars, making it one of Hollywood's top screenwriter salaries.
The heart of Cinderella was its all-star cast. Disney's push to convert its animated classics into live-action films was designed to address the growing shortage of original scripts. If successful, this could unlock an endless stream of content from Disney's vast film library, leaving other studios far behind.
Neng 6 Team marked a major shift in Disney's animation department. Pixar's dominance in the animation market had left Disney struggling, but projects like Invincible Destruction King and Frozen had signaled a comeback. Neng 6 Team continued this trend, further cementing Disney's animation resurgence.
This email, though simple, contained crucial information. It was clear that Disney was keen to work with Renly—not merely as a potential star for Guardians of the Galaxy (which they could cast with any number of actors)—but as an essential part of their long-term vision.
As for Vin Diesel? It seemed like a mere afterthought.
The biggest surprise for Renly was A Star Wars Story: Rogue One. The mere mention of the title had an immediate impact—Hollywood's top actors were likely itching for a role in the project. Disney's marketing machine could easily pick and choose their stars.
But why Renly?
Renly had discussed with Andy that both Marvel and Star Wars were about the legacy of the brand and the characters, rather than any individual actor or director. Even with changes in talent, the impact on box office success was minimal. Newcomers or second-tier actors were the most economical choice.
Still, there was another angle. Rogue One was an experimental project for the Star Wars universe. If it succeeded, Disney could leverage it into a full-blown franchise, much like how Iron Man kickstarted the Marvel Cinematic Universe.
Renly suspected that Disney wanted him to be the cornerstone of this new era—similar to how Robert Downey Jr. became the face of Marvel.
But, of course, this was just Renly's speculation. He wasn't Robert Iger and didn't have all the answers.
One thing was clear, though: Rogue One was part of Disney's larger strategy. Whether it would reach its full potential depended on Disney itself.
And Renly could sense the urgency in Andy's email. He could almost hear the excitement in his voice, written between the lines:
"Dear Renly, please feel free to contact me if you have any questions about Rogue One. I'll do everything I can to move the project forward and protect your interests. But please—don't hesitate to reach out anytime. Your agent, as always, is at your service."
Renly couldn't help but chuckle at the urgency in Andy's tone.
Shaking off his amusement, Renly focused and quickly made his decision. It was a difficult choice for others, but for him, it was straightforward. The email was just the beginning of the process, a way for both parties to weigh their options.
Renly began drafting his response, knowing exactly what to say.