“George, give me a more precise number.” Leah Rosenberg directly ignored George Lucas’s last words. “In your estimation, how much funding does Duke need?”
After seriously looking at his friend for a moment, George Lucas stroked his signature beard and said slowly, “If it’s produced by Lucasfilm, with all the special effects handled by Industrial Light & Magic, it could probably be done for around $12 million. But Duke is a newcomer, so that number will definitely go up—at least $15 million.”
“I’ll mortgage the two properties in Santa Monica and San Francisco as soon as possible.” Leah had this idea as soon as she first saw the script, and only made up her mind after weeks of careful consideration. At this moment, she seemed to be talking about something trivial. “Together with some of my savings, it won’t be a problem to raise $10 million. I’ll figure out the rest.”
“Leah, you’re making a huge gamble!” George Lucas reminded her.
“George, think back twenty years…” In Leah’s calm eyes, a glint finally appeared. “When we started our business, wasn’t every decision a gamble? Do you remember what it was like filming ‘Star Wars’? Ninety percent of Hollywood said you were a fool, and every critic in North America called your film garbage. And what happened?”
Hearing his friend bring up his proudest achievement, George Lucas couldn’t help but smile and took a sip of coffee. “You have that much faith in Duke?”
“Not at all.”
Leah Rosenberg’s words nearly made George Lucas spit out his coffee. “But as a mother, I’m willing to create an opportunity for him to succeed. Even if he fails, at worst I’ll lose two houses and some money. That’s a loss I can bear.”
Seeing George Lucas slowly nod, her voice softened. “George, we’ve known each other for thirty years. I’ve never asked you for anything before—producer, distribution…”
“Leave all that to Lucasfilm.”
Since Leah had decided to shoulder most of the investment and spoke so earnestly, George Lucas didn’t try to persuade her further. After thinking for a moment, he said, “If I’m interested in this script, those film funds will definitely be willing to cover the remaining investment.”
This kind of deal—using someone else’s resources while gaining favors—is something Hollywood big shots are experts at.
Having reached an agreement on the main direction, the two discussed some specific details, and only after several hours did they leave the café separately.
Duke knew nothing about his mother’s decision. Although he had never given up hope, he was also clear-eyed enough to realize that opportunities were unlikely to appear any time soon. He had to find a suitable job to support himself.
He was in contact with an assistant director from the “Hook” crew. After Spielberg’s team had suffered a financial crisis and production was halted, they finally secured investment and resumed filming at Universal Studios. Duke wanted to return to the crew to work, even if it was just as a temp doing odd jobs. Being able to observe the fastest gun in Hollywood at work was a rare learning opportunity.
Most importantly, he needed a source of income while he waited and searched for opportunities.
Duke had thought about asking his mother to invest, but it was just a thought.
There are no mothers in this world who owe their children anything; he couldn’t ask for more. Mrs. Leah had also expressed that she wasn’t optimistic about the script.
Even if, in the worst case, his mother was willing to invest, without the support of a film company, it wouldn’t make much difference.
Not to mention the complexity of assembling a large crew without a film company’s backing—even if the film was completed, distribution and release would be huge challenges.
In this massive industry, distribution companies are always at the top of the food chain. Duke wasn’t naïve enough to think that just because he could sign a contract with a distributor, they would put up millions to promote his film and then share a third or even half of the profits with an unknown like him. Are the executives at distribution companies idiots?
Let’s not forget, he was a complete newcomer. No distribution company would invest that kind of money in a rookie director’s work whose rights they didn’t even own. They’re not in the charity business!
Unless he sold the film’s rights entirely to the distributor—but then, who would pay a high price for a rookie director’s debut?
So, he needed the support of a production company or a well-known producer. If the producer was a major studio like Lucasfilm, some problems would be solved easily.
A film produced by Duke himself is a completely different concept from one produced by Lucasfilm or Warner Bros. The treatment he’d receive from distributors would be worlds apart.
That’s why new directors always go through producers or film companies—it’s an unavoidable choice.
Because he had previously worked as a temp on the “Hook” crew, Duke got the job after just two phone calls. Starting the new week, he entered the soundstage at Universal Studios.
For temps like them, there were no fixed positions. They went wherever the crew needed them, always doing the dirty and tiring work.