Simon thought for a moment before saying, "You can think of this as an alternative career exercise, Amy. First off, you'd only need to commit two years. I already have three projects planned right now, and at least three more next year. Over the next two years, we'd collaborate on these six projects. Building on the buzz from Run Lola Run, I believe it's not hard for at least one of these six to crack the North American box office top ten again."
Amy Pascal interrupted at this point. "Simon, while Run Lola Run is very successful, in my view, there are too many fluke factors involved. North America sees four to five hundred theatrical releases each year; breaking into the top ten is absolutely not as simple as you imagine. It's not just about the quality of the film itself."
Simon patiently waited for Amy Pascal to finish her interjection before continuing. "Amy, Run Lola Run, The Butterfly Effect, Final Destination—I think you wouldn't deny that all three scripts are exceptional, right?"
Amy Pascal hesitated briefly but nodded.
Simon went on. "Since I can produce three outstanding scripts like that, I'm confident I can develop six solid projects over the next two years. That includes Final Destination, plus my own next two directorial efforts; as for the other three, I'll be just as cautious. With six chances, hitting the top ten again doesn't seem like too big a problem to me. If you insist it's impossible, then we really don't need to discuss this further."
Amy Pascal shrugged. "Fine, Simon, I'll tentatively accept your assumption. So what's next? You still haven't given me a reason to work for you."
"If you hadn't interrupted me just now," Simon spread his hands, then pointed to a nearby round table. Amy didn't refuse, and they walked over together and sat down before he continued. "So, the reason. Come work for me, and compared to your current authority as Fox's VP of production, your involvement in these next six projects would increase dramatically. In fact, many people might even credit you for them, since Simon Westeros is still just a kid not even twenty yet. And if we achieve that goal of cracking the top ten again, it'd become part of your resume. With that credential, two years from now, if you wanted to leave, landing another job at one of the Big Seven would be effortless. If you wanted to stay, I'd welcome it, of course."
Amy Pascal smiled at Simon's self-deprecating remark, but quickly composed herself after he finished. "Simon, I see a problem: If all six of your projects flop, the Big Seven might never take me back."
"Of course, everything comes with risks," Simon didn't deny it. "But what if it succeeds? Or succeeds spectacularly? Your current position is VP of production at Fox—as a woman, I think you understand that's pretty much the glass ceiling in Hollywood. If you stay with the Big Seven and grind out more seniority, maybe you'd move up in ten years. But choose to work for me, and over the next two years, if our projects are hugely successful—then those old fogeys at the top of Hollywood might think, oh, maybe we should give that woman a shot."
After Simon said this, Amy Pascal's gaze finally flickered. Noticing the boy across from her studying her intently, the woman took a sip of her champagne. "Simon, that's sexist."
Simon replied innocently, "Amy, that's Hollywood being sexist, not me. If I were sexist, you wouldn't have heard any of that."
Amy Pascal hesitated a bit before saying, "Simon, what you described is just a very idealized outcome. Frankly, I think my chances of that happening are higher if I stay at Fox."
"Fox hasn't had a film break $100 million in years, right?" Simon countered, not waiting for Amy to respond before continuing. "I know what you're worried about, Amy. A kid director who's just starting to make a name in Hollywood suddenly wants to poach a major studio VP—sounds pretty crazy, doesn't it? But so many great things in the world start with a crazy idea. You're only 29—do you really want to be like those fifty- or sixty-year-old codgers with no sense of adventure left?"
This time, Amy Pascal didn't respond quickly, sipping her champagne in small mouthfuls.
Simon didn't rush her, waiting patiently.
Two or three minutes passed like this, until she'd finished her glass. Only then did Amy Pascal look up again at the young man across from her. "Simon, it's not impossible for me to work for you. But I'd need 20% of Daenerys Films' shares."
Simon immediately shook his head. "Amy, as long as you do outstanding work, I'll definitely give you some equity incentives down the line, but not now. However, to compensate for the crazy choice of jumping from a Big Seven VP to an independent production company, over the next two years, I can offer you a $500,000 package salary. Bonuses separate, of course."
In this era, excluding project bonuses, a major studio VP's annual salary wasn't that high—around $100,000 to $150,000. Simon's offer of $500,000 over two years was absolutely sincere.
But Amy Pascal wasn't swayed by the salary proposal and insisted, "Simon, with the experience and connections I've built up now, if I left Fox, I could start my own production company—no need to partner with you at all. So if you want me to work for you, I deserve some ownership. Of course, you could strip Run Lola Run out of Daenerys Films; I wouldn't share in those profits."
Executive turnover at Hollywood's major studios had always been frequent, triggered by company sales, contract expirations, project failures, and more.
Those departing execs naturally didn't switch industries; they usually started production companies, either affiliating with a major studio or going solo. The basic process was picking projects, pulling in investors on one side and selling distribution on the other. If the film made money, investors and distributors took the lion's share, while they pocketed a production fee; if it lost money, investors and distributors bore the losses, but they still got their production fee.
At the same time, when the timing was right, these indie producers would get rehired by the majors.
And the cycle repeated.
For these kinds of production companies that were purely about earning a fee for effort, equity splits among partners were usually very even—after all, everyone was just contributing labor, with little capital injection needed.
Simon had just negotiated a similar fee-based deal with Fox for Final Destination—though this 'fee' was on the high side—but Amy Pascal clearly saw Daenerys Films as a similar outfit, hence her demand for 20% equity.
Shaking his head again, Simon said, "Amy, Daenerys Films is absolutely not the kind of simple production company you imagine, just leaning on the majors. When conditions allow, I'll push to build our own distribution network, and if possible down the line, the company will expand into TV production too. So I can't give you shares now, because I'll be pouring everything I have into this company—not just simple personal effort."
Amy Pascal listened to the big boy's words, brimming with youthful bravado, before replying, "Simon, I happen to remember Orion just announced their TV production division last month. That company was founded in 1978—nine years ago now. And Orion's five founders were all veteran industry execs with years in Hollywood; even they relied on Warner's distribution channels in the early years. So, building a distribution network, starting a TV division—how many years do you think it'll take you to achieve that? Or do you think you can achieve it at all?"
"Last June, I met my agent for the first time. When he heard I wanted to direct my first film, he told me, Simon, Hollywood directors usually don't get to direct their first feature until after thirty—you're too young, don't rush. Then, I didn't wait from eighteen to thirty; just over half a year later, everyone saw Run Lola Run." As he said this, Simon waved over a nearby waiter, got another glass of champagne for Amy Pascal, then stood up with a smile. "Amy, I'm looking forward to you seeing for yourself how many years it'll take me to accomplish the rest—or rather, for us to accomplish it together. Oh, and this is kind of urgent—how about giving me an answer by Monday?"
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