After Christmas, the last week of 1986 slipped away in a hurry.
In the blink of an eye, it was 1987.
At the start of the new year, all the image and sound editing for Lola Run wrapped up smoothly. Thanks to the excellent shot quality, Simon finished color timing the dailies in just a week.
Then, Lola Run entered the final printing process.
Meanwhile, The Butterfly Effect had wrapped in mid-December and moved into post-production.
From David Giler and Brian De Palma, Simon learned Fox hadn't locked in The Butterfly Effect's release date yet—it depended on the final cut's quality.
But the most likely slots were summer or Easter.
Back then, North America's Easter window wasn't as hot as it later became; Hollywood's top slots were still just summer and year-end.
The Butterfly Effect's box office would be crucial for Simon's future in Hollywood—he naturally hoped for a prime summer release. But that wasn't up to him.
Right now, what Simon could control was just Lola Run.
Cutting it close, on January 13, Simon finally got the final print of Lola Run.
January 14.
Fox lot, afternoon.
In one of the screening rooms on the lot, David Giler and Brian De Palma entered to find a large group already gathered—mostly the Lola Run shoot crew.
Spotting the two arrivals, Simon, chatting with everyone, quickly stood to greet them; others nodded hello.
With them there, Simon had the screening room staff ready, but said to David Giler: "Sorry, David—gotta wait a bit. Mr. Sanders promised to come, hasn't arrived yet."
David Giler nodded understandingly.
Simon inviting Fox VP Peter Sanders was clearly about Lola Run's distribution. David had even advised Simon on distribution details recently.
Simon checked his watch—it was past the agreed time—so he stood to check outside the screening room.
After nearly ten more minutes, Simon was debating heading to the admin building when Peter Sanders rounded the corner hallway. Seeing Simon waiting, Peter Sanders looked apologetic, extending a hand: "Really sorry, Simon—just wrapped a meeting."
"No problem," Simon smiled, shaking hands. "So, Peter—shall we go in?"
"Of course—I'm really looking forward to your film."
They entered; Peter Sanders warmly greeted everyone, scanned left and right. The room had six rows, split down the middle. Front row left: David Giler and Brian De Palma; right: Janet and Katherine, each side with one empty seat.
After a pause, Peter Sanders sat beside David Giler.
Simon stood by Peter Sanders, noting the hesitation, just smiled faintly.
Smooth as he was, from that detail, Peter Sanders clearly wasn't the most magnanimous.
As the Fox exec overseeing The Butterfly Effect, he'd been sidelined by David Giler and Brian De Palma throughout production—he obviously didn't want to sit with them now. But Peter Sanders didn't dare show the conflict openly.
Once Peter Sanders settled, Simon instructed the staff, then sat beside Janet.
The screening room lights dimmed soon after.
Though he'd seen dailies, after half a year of hustle, facing a real audience test, Simon still tensed, clenching his fists unconsciously.
A cool little hand reached over in the dim, patting his balled fist.
Simon turned; noticing Janet's sparkling eyes, he smiled at her, turning to grip that cool little hand in his big one.
With the test screening for Lola Run, Katherine—heading to Arizona soon for Night of the Living Dead—had made time today.
Sitting on Janet's other side, Katherine noticed Simon holding Janet's hand, her eyes flashing faint melancholy. After New Year, back in L.A., she'd clearly sensed Simon and Janet's relationship had progressed.
Before Katherine could ask, Janet spilled about Christmas Eve.
No holding back.
Till Katherine couldn't take it and covered Janet's mouth; the girl finally stopped.
On the lit big screen, after a wait, with the faint projector whir, the film started.
First, a line of subtitles.
The Butterfly Effect's opener would explain the term later, so Simon skipped adding one for Lola Run.
But he tweaked the original's opener, keeping just British poet T.S. Eliot's words.
As subtitles faded, urgent ticking seconds ramped up; with the swinging silver pendulum, credits appeared one by one.
Production Company: Daenerys Films.
Executive Producers: Brian De Palma, David Giler, Robert Redford.
Director: Simon Westeros.
Since Brian and the others offered their names, Simon didn't humbly hide them—he put the three big shots front and center.
As the pendulum stopped, the lens pushed to Simon's custom metal gear clock; the fast-paced electronic music threading the whole film kicked in. The infectious beat unknowingly guided everyone's mood in the room.
Then zombie-like crowds, with voiceover centered on the philosophical 'Who am I? Where am I? What am I doing?'
But despite the profound voiceover, the film gave no time for pondering.
The high-energy electronic score seemed to urge everyone into a mad dash.
So.
In the animated opener, Lola started running.
Till the story's start.
In a rapid inertial pull-in shot, the striking red phone rang.
Small-time crook Manny got a deal task from his boss; all went smooth at first. Returning, his girlfriend Lola didn't pick him up on time—he improvised back to town, then lost the deal money.
A hundred grand.
Enough for the boss to burn him to ash and dump in the sea.
Panicked, Manny tearfully vented to Lola on the phone.
To save her boyfriend's life, Lola had to raise $100,000 fast and get it to a phone booth in downtown Santa Monica.
She had 20 minutes.
But no hesitation—she bolted out the door.
Full sprint.
To her bank manager dad's office—not only no help, but her parentage shattered.
No money, still raced to the end undaunted.
Boyfriend already gun-in-hand in the supermarket.
Fine—you be Clyde, I'll be your Bonnie.
Robbery success.
Escape failure.
Killed by a dumb rookie cop's misfire.
Unwilling.
Then redo.
Red phone drops—another start.
This time, I'm Bonnie—you don't need to be Clyde.
Seemed to work.
Till the last moment.
God dislikes free rides, apparently—so took him away.
Redo again.
Skipped the blocking punk neighbor and vicious dog in the hall—maybe saved a second, or wasted one.
Who knows.
Missed dad, but hit casino.
Then.
All seemed smooth.
Earned $100,000 herself, raced to destination on time.
The bum who lucked into the $100,000 stole a thief's bike, also arrived early at boyfriend's side, 'returned' the money.
Perfect ending.