I am Hollywood

Chapter 591: Chapter 592: The Internal Screening



[Chapter 592: The Internal Screening]n/ô/vel/b//jn dot c//om

Many years later, the now elderly Private Ryan returned to the Normandy American Cemetery, where over 120,000 lives lay buried. He ran his fingers over the white gravestone, feeling the weight of the name etched upon it, as if he had been transported back in time.

The sound of waves crashing against the landing craft echoed like the soldiers' uneasy cries before battle. With habitual nervousness, Captain Miller twisted open his aluminum canteen and took a long drink, while his lieutenant stuffed a bar of chocolate into his mouth, both trying their best to remain calm.

As the helmsman signaled imminent landing, Captain Miller and Lieutenant Horvath hurriedly reminded the soldiers about what to watch out for during the landing. However, their words seemed to carry little weight; when the hatch opened, a rapid burst of machine gun fire instantly took down a large number of soldiers before they even had time to react.

This brutal scene, with absolutely no room for a breather, made many viewers in the screening room gasp. The shaky footage from the handheld camera intensified the feeling of being right there in the thick of it.

The following images only tightened the viewers' nerves further. Some struggled to jump into the water, only to be struck down by bullets, never to resurface; others fought hard to reach the shore, but fell before they could reach the beach; and some valiantly dragged their wounded comrades, only to find in the aftermath of cannon fire that they were left holding nothing but half a corpse...

Eric noticed a female executive from the distribution department sitting not far to his left, her face already contorted in anguish as she covered her eyes. Others wore similarly grave expressions.

He glanced at Kathryn beside him; her fingers were tightly gripping the armrest, her anxiety clearly palpable.

As the twenty-minute Normandy landing sequence concluded, the camera cut to the mailroom, and Eric distinctly sensed a collective sigh of relief from everyone in the room. Someone even raised a hand, seemingly wanting to applaud the successful war scenes, but quickly realized the subject matter did not warrant such a reaction, and lowered their hand again.

Eric watched Kathryn, who showed no signs of easing up. He gave her hand a reassuring pat and bent closer to whisper, "How about we step outside for a bit?"

This was the first internal screening of Saving Private Ryan after its final cut had been completed, but Kathryn shook her head, "Isn't that a bit inappropriate?"

Eric gestured vaguely downward, "You're sitting so straight that you're blocking others' view."

Kathryn, already feeling extremely anxious, relaxed some at Eric's playful jab. When she felt him trying to pull her up to leave, she quickly shook off his grip. Yet, she found that she was already rising from her seat, so she ended up walking out of the screening room with Eric.

...

The screening room was located on the first floor of the Firefly Studios administrative building. Once they stepped out, shutting the door behind them and sealing away the movie's sound, a peaceful quiet enveloped them.

Being Saturday, though many film crews were hard at work in the studios, there weren't many people staying late in the administrative building. Eric put his hands in his pockets and looked at Kathryn, who wore a black leather jacket and jeans, her tall figure striking. "How about we go to my office for a cup of coffee? We've seen the film so many times. We can come back after they finish."

Kathryn hesitated, reluctant to be alone in a room with this man who often stirred her emotions. She pointed to the cement walkway outside the floor-to-ceiling window. "Let's just walk outside instead."

"OK," Eric replied, taking the lead.

The Firefly Studios complex was oriented in a northeast rectangle, parallel to the Ballona Creek running through Culver City.

Having stepped out of the administrative building, Eric glanced back at Kathryn, whose worried gaze was still fixated on him, and he sought to lighten the mood. "Kathryn, I've always been curious; what does 'Ballona' mean in the name of the creek beside the studio? Do you know?"

Kathryn, having a deep knowledge of classical paintings, was quite familiar with some of the Western mythological figures associated with them. Though her mind wandered, she immediately blurted, "It's the name of a tall beauty warrior goddess from ancient Rome..." Realizing what she had said, she shot Eric an annoyed glare, though there was no anger in her eyes, just a flicker of embarrassment.

Eric chuckled, "I actually think 'Ballona' is quite a pretty name, unlike Kathryn, which is so commonplace."

"Did you know that in Greek mythology, the counterpart of Ballona, the warrior goddess Enyo, was incredibly bloody and ruthless? It's said that after the Trojan War, when the city was slaughtered, she drank the blood of the fallen in a drunken haze."

Eric shrugged innocently, "Do we really need to delve that deep? I've never heard of such a niche subplot."

Kathryn smirked slightly, a faint smile playing on her lips. "You brought it up first."

"Alright, my bad," Eric laughed, shaking his head. "Let's talk about something else. What do you have planned next?"

Kathryn replied, "I intend to take some time off, travel around, and then come back to work. Remember Becky? She mentioned that Columbia University is hosting a pop art exhibition next week, and I plan to check it out."

Eric only vaguely understood that pop art represented a form of popular culture, but he hadn't looked into it much deeper. "I might also head to New York soon. Are you still staying at that hotel in SoHo?"

Kathryn reminisced about their time together three years earlier at the 60 SoHo Hotel; it was as if everything was clear as yesterday. She said, "I might, but I... might also stay at Becky's

place."

"It's not nice to inconvenience others. I have a high-rise apartment near Sixth Avenue with a view of Central Park; maybe you could stay there."

Kathryn stopped, her eyes fixed on Eric for a few seconds. Seeing no sign of nervousness on his part, she felt embarrassed. "You... you still need a place to stay, right? I think I'll just go to a hotel so no one is burdened."

Eric maintained a gentle smile, casually saying, "OK, just call me once you're settled in. Maybe we can be neighbors."

Kathryn felt an urge to flee; this guy was being a relentless pest, so unreasonable.

She's felt flustered and anxiously searched for a way to change the topic. "When we wrap up filming, you asked me to keep all those props. Why? They are just gathering dust in a warehouse in Ireland, and I have to pay considerable monthly storage fees for them!"

For Saving Private Ryan, the crew had prepared thousands of World War II uniforms from various countries, a multitude of landing crafts and military vehicles, plus countless other props -- spending over ten million dollars. Eric definitely wouldn't treat them casually like many films and just offload them.

Moreover, he had better plans for reusing them.

Though it was amusing to see how awkwardly Kathryn tried to divert the conversation, Eric decided not to poke fun at her further; he didn't want to scare her off. "I plan to use these items to create a mini-series about World War II films. It will connect with the storyline of Saving Private Ryan, focusing on a unit venturing deep behind enemy lines after the Normandy invasion. Kathryn, since you've done so much research, you're likely more knowledgeable about World War II history than I am. Would you be interested in being the producer for this mini-series?"

Kathryn did not give a direct answer but asked, "Shouldn't the cost of a war drama be quite high? How much do you intend to spend on this?"

"With those props and the production team from Saving Private Ryan, the cost per episode won't exceed ten million. I'm thinking of producing ten episodes." "That's a hundred million dollars! Saving Private Ryan only cost seventy million, and I'm still worried about whether we can recoup that investment. You're planning to spend a hundred million on a TV drama?" Kathryn shook her head but then laughed, looking at Eric. "I almost forgot; you're now the wealthiest man in America, so money is no issue for you." Eric had grown used to people teasing him about being the richest man, smiling as he replied,

"I'm the wealthiest but not foolish. Don't worry; after Saving Private Ryan hits theaters, it will spark a wave of war films. Launching this mini-series at the right time should make recouping our costs quite feasible. I happen to be acquiring a TV network. This series could enhance its

brand."

Kathryn shook her head. "I don't know much about these matters, but I've heard rumors that your negotiation with ABC fell through?"

Eric clarified, "It didn't fall through; we're just at a crucial point. It depends on whether ABC

is willing to budge. If everything goes well, I'll be going to New York next week for the

signing." "Today is the 12th, and the Oscars are on the 21st." Kathryn said this, feeling a mix of relief and disappointment. If that were the case, Eric wouldn't be in New York for long. "I heard they invited you to present the Best Picture award, which rarely happens."

Thanks to the butterfly effect, the film Schindler's List that should have released this year was delayed by a year, making this Oscar a lesser year as no renowned directors released films.

To improve ratings, the Oscar committee had personally invited Eric early in the year to participate this ceremony. Initially, they hoped Eric would open the show to draw in viewers, but in March, after the latest issue of Forbes came out, they changed their minds. They wanted him to come last to present the coveted Best Picture award -- a duty usually reserved for Hollywood veterans. However, given Eric's power and reputation in Hollywood, no one would question his qualifications for presenting that award.

"Speaking of the Oscars, ICM is hosting a warm-up party at the Sunset Tower Hotel tonight. Kepler called to invite me to make an appearance. Your contract is also with ICM; do you want

to come with me?"

Kathryn shook her head. "Better not. I plan to head home early to rest."

Eric noticed a fleeting yet undeniable interest in Kathryn's expression, quickly replaced by a refusal. After some thought, he suspected the reason. Not only Kathryn but also due to the collaboration with Firefly, Cameron also had his contract with ICM. Kathryn clearly wanted to

avoid running into him, so Eric did not press further.

...

The two walked a loop along the complex's walkway, stopped for coffee at the cafe, and only headed back to the administrative building when they felt the screening of Saving Private Ryan was nearly wrapping up.

Stepping back into the screening room, they found the fluorescent lights already turned on.

The executives and the marketing staff participating in the internal screening had begun to murmur among themselves. When they noticed Eric and Kathryn's entrance, everyone fell silent, and after a brief moment of quietude, they all broke into applause simultaneously. Arriving just in time for this internal screening, Katzenberg approached and said, "Ms. Kathryn, congratulations on making an incredible movie. If I hadn't seen it with my own eyes, I definitely wouldn't have believed it."

Kathryn understood that Katzenberg hadn't meant his statement entirely; he was implying that he wouldn't have believed a woman could direct a film of such caliber. However, she didn't mind. She smiled and shook his hand, responding, "Thank you for your praise, Jeffrey." Katzenberg nodded and then turned to Eric. "But, Eric, this film has two significant issues. The length is 170 minutes, nearly three hours; I suggest trimming it further. The rating is also a concern. If we cut out the excessively bloody scenes, we could certainly achieve a PG-13 rating, but it would lose some of its authenticity. If not adjusted, an R rating is inevitable." Eric knew Katzenberg's direct nature well. Though Katzenberg had many sociable qualities typical of high executives, he confronted work matters straightforwardly. So he didn't take offense at Katzenberg's honesty. "Jeffrey, the rough cut of this film ran four and a half hours. Kathryn and I have already trimmed it as much as possible. I don't believe we can reduce the current 170-minute length any further. As for the R rating, Terminator 2 proved that an R- rated film doesn't necessarily result in box office failure. This is, after all, a war film." Katzenberg recognized Eric's point. After hearing his confirmation, he chose not to dwell on the matter anymore. As a professional filmmaker, he felt the film's plot had already been tightened to the point of no return. Nevertheless, being instinctively critical in his profession,

The voiced his opinions to Eric.

*****

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