"Because it dragged on too long, a few of the original actors dropped out. We're recasting right now, and I'll probably head to Arizona around the 20th," Katherine said to Simon about her schedule as the three of them walked side by side along the neat asphalt path in the Fox lot. She glanced casually at Janet, who was clinging affectionately to Simon's arm on the other side, thought for a moment, and added, "I've already talked to Mr. Feldman. Simon, if you come help out, you could be my assistant director. But if you're busy with other things, that's fine too. The promotion for Run Lola Run is probably going to be a hassle."
Now that he'd confirmed things with Janet, Simon didn't have any special feelings toward Katherine anymore. He realized why she was saying this, but he shook his head and smiled. "I don't plan on handling the promotion for Run Lola Run myself. Once I nail down the distribution deal with a studio, that's it. After that, I won't be too busy for the next few months. So, I'll definitely make it to your set before the end of the month."
When Katherine said those words, her mind had inexplicably tensed up. Hearing Simon's response, though, she just nodded lightly, her gaze drifting away. "Well, okay then."
It wasn't far from quitting time, and Katherine and Janet were heading back to Malibu together.
Simon walked the two women to the fork leading to the parking lot, said goodbye, and headed alone toward the executive building where Peter Sanders was.
As they walked toward the parking lot, Katherine noticed Janet linking arms with her affectionately now that Simon was gone. She casually asked, "Aren't you planning to move in with Simon?"
Janet shook her head. "No way. I'm staying in my big beach house. His place isn't comfortable at all."
Katherine couldn't help teasing, "You're so high-maintenance. Simon's definitely in for some hard times."
"Heh, whose fault is that? He's the guy."
Katherine smiled too, but then said, "After wrapping Night of the Living Dead, I'll look for a house in L.A. You could have Simon move to Malibu then."
"I've already mentioned it to him. Malibu's place is huge—even the three of us could live there no problem—but he doesn't want to," Janet said, her tone carrying a hint of mild frustration. She added with a huff, "Male chauvinist."
"If you won't move there and he won't move here, what are you two going to do?"
"Wait until he makes enough money to buy a big house," Janet replied, nuzzling against Katherine before grinning mischievously. "But living apart isn't so bad, actually. If we moved in too soon, I think he'd wear me out—that animal."
Seeing Janet starting to overshare again, Katherine felt her cheeks flush slightly. She raised her hand and rapped her on the head, unsparingly saying, "Shut up. I don't want to hear about your messy stuff."
"Ow, that hurt. Hee hee."
Simon arrived outside Peter Sanders' office. After the secretary announced him, he waited a moment before being let in.
As the secretary pushed the door open, Simon caught a glimpse of Peter Sanders on the phone. By the time he walked in, the man had hung up, stood to shake his hand across the desk, and sat back down.
After the greetings, Simon set the locked case containing the Run Lola Run print by his feet and took a seat opposite Peter Sanders.
"Simon, it's almost quitting time, so let's get straight to it," Peter Sanders said once Simon was settled. "For a young guy like you, making something like Run Lola Run is pretty impressive. But the subject matter's too niche—three-act structure, video game-like setup. It's fresh, but the audience is bound to be small. Chances of a theatrical release are low; it'll probably go straight to video."
Business was all about negotiation.
Even though Peter Sanders sounded pessimistic about Run Lola Run, Simon just listened impassively, patiently waiting for the offer.
Peter Sanders spoke while subtly sizing up the young man across from him. Seeing Simon's attentive but unchanging expression, he dropped the pretense. "I just got off the phone with Mr. Goldberg. Because of Brian and the others' names attached, and since this film could help promote the 'butterfly effect' concept, Fox is willing to buy it. Eight hundred thousand dollars—how's that sound?"
Hearing the $800,000 quote, Simon didn't react much. Instead, he asked seriously, "Mr. Sanders, is that $800,000 for all rights?"
Peter Sanders nodded. "Of course. Eight hundred thousand, and Fox buys out all rights to Run Lola Run for twenty years. After that, the rights revert to you."
Hollywood rarely did permanent rights deals, but decades-long contracts were long enough for studios to squeeze every last drop of profit from a film.
Simon finally shook his head. "That won't work, Mr. Sanders. The price is too low."
Peter Sanders wasn't surprised by the refusal. Patiently, he said, "Simon, $800,000 is a very fair price. You made this film for about $650,000, right? That's a $150,000 profit—around 20% return. That's way above Hollywood's average."
In reality, as of now, Run Lola Run's final production budget was $597,000, with about $53,000 left in Daenerys Film's account.
But Simon wasn't about to argue details with Peter Sanders. Instead, he said, "Mr. Sanders, I think your math is off. A 20% return on a $10 million film and a 20% return on a $650,000 film are completely different things."
Peter Sanders smiled faintly. "Of course. And you're obviously aware that a $10 million film and a $650,000 film are completely different things too."
"Fair enough," Simon shrugged. "Mr. Sanders, actually, I was thinking—could we do a profit-sharing deal?"
Peter Sanders rejected it outright. "No way, Simon. This is Fox. We don't have the bandwidth to do revenue-sharing distribution for a B-movie that cost just a few hundred thousand."
"Mr. Sanders, Run Lola Run might have a B-movie budget, but it's definitely not some slapdash B-flick."
"Maybe so, but you have to understand, Simon—at a big studio like ours, marketing costs are sky-high. Just a little push, and we'd spend more on that than your entire production budget. So, we're only offering a buyout."
Simon thought for a moment. "Alright, Mr. Sanders, a buyout it is. But I'd like to sell only the North American theatrical rights for now."
"I just told you, Simon—this film might not even make it to theaters."
"That's a deal-breaker," Simon said, his tone firming up a bit. "If Fox isn't willing to give Run Lola Run a theatrical release, no matter what you offer, I won't agree."
"Fox won't give you that guarantee," Peter Sanders matched his firmness. "Simon, you're not in a position to demand that from Fox—or any of the other six majors, for that matter."
"Well then," Simon said, his face showing regret as he stood. "Either way, Mr. Sanders, thanks for making time this afternoon."
Peter Sanders saw Simon picking up the case, his expression turning slightly conflicted. After a brief hesitation, he gestured for him to hold on.
Simon didn't push it and sat back down.
Peter Sanders said, "Simon, I know you're heading to Sundance next, but compared to the Oscars or the big overseas festivals, Sundance has next to no clout. Even if you win something, it won't boost Run Lola Run's profile much. So, one million dollars—that's the highest I can go."
Either way, Simon really wanted to work with a major studio, and Peter Sanders was the only high-level exec he could reach right now.
All the groundwork was done; no need to hide certain things anymore.
Simon pondered for a moment, ignoring the new offer. Instead, he said, "Mr. Sanders, Sundance might not have much pull. But the gimmick of Hollywood's youngest director—that should draw some attention, right?"
Peter Sanders eyed him for a second, then chuckled. "Simon, if we're talking young, Spielberg started shooting at 13. You think you're younger than he was?"
"Too bad I didn't get my hands on a Super 8 camera at 13, or maybe I could've made a film too," Simon just shrugged it off with a smile. "But if I remember right, Spielberg's first proper theatrical film was The Sugarland Express in 1974, when he was already 28."
Peter Sanders kept his teasing tone. "So, what about you, Simon? Don't tell me you're 18?"
People who didn't know Simon well often pegged him older based on what he'd done.
Peter Sanders was one of them—especially after seeing Run Lola Run. He figured Simon was probably a grad from a top film school like USC.
If so, Simon would be at least 22.
A top-school alum making a film at 22? Rare in Hollywood, sure, but not exactly headline news.
Facing Peter Sanders' ribbing, Simon just calmly pulled out his driver's license and handed it over. "You're right, Mr. Sanders. I am 18."