Chapter 270: Unwilling to Give In

Chapter 270: Chapter 270: Unwilling to Give In

After seeing the two off, Robert couldn’t help but tease, "I never would’ve guessed you’re afraid of horror movies."

Irene smiled, helpless. "Why is that surprising? I only like telling stories I can understand and feel. I can’t handle the pacing and atmosphere of horror. Besides, James Wan’s style is one of a kind. If anyone else directed it, it wouldn’t have the same feel."

"You’re right," Robert said, nodding with approval. "Look at James Wan just now. Once the contract was signed, he opened up completely. His creative drive is lit. I don’t think he’ll let us down."

Irene took a sip of warm water and shifted the conversation to the other priority. "Speaking of which, now that Saw is locked in, what’s the status on Little Miss Sunshine?"

Robert’s smile faded. His expression turned serious as he tapped the table lightly with his fingertips.

"I reached out to the writer, Mr. Michael Arndt, immediately, but he’s already in talks with Focus Features. They’re in the final stages."

"Focus?" Irene raised an eyebrow. "If I remember right, Focus is a Universal subsidiary?"

"Exactly. Universal acquired them at the start of the year and folded Focus into its structure to handle independent arthouse releases," Robert explained.

"Mr. Arndt shopped Little Miss Sunshine to several companies. Focus offered the highest price and the most creative autonomy. There’s a good chance they’ll close it."

Irene traced the rim of her cup with her finger as fragments of the future surfaced in her mind. Little Miss Sunshine had been in talks with Focus, but Focus eventually walked away. She didn’t know why.

"Hold off on contacting Mr. Arndt," Irene said decisively. "If we jump in now, we’ll tip off Focus. Once they sense competition, they might dig in and hold the rights just to block us. That only makes things harder."

Robert nodded, approval in his eyes. "Understood. I’ll have the team monitor Focus’s negotiations closely. If they walk — over budget, creative differences, whatever — we move in immediately and close fast. No openings for anyone else."

"Exactly," Irene said, satisfied, then her tone softened with thought. "Speaking of which, we can invest and produce, but it would be ideal if we could distribute ourselves. Then we wouldn’t have to depend on the Big Six or get boxed in by their schedules. We’d control the timeline."

Robert glanced at her and spoke plainly. "Plenty of small and mid-sized U.S. studios have independent distribution. They have steady relationships with theater chains and overseas agents. What they lack is a pipeline of strong films.

Only the Big Six truly have full global distribution. Even DreamWorks doesn’t — they rely on partners. The Big Six have gone out of their way to keep DreamWorks from becoming the ’Seventh Major.’ That’s part of why DreamWorks has been constrained."

"Even DreamWorks can’t do it?" Irene asked, surprised.

"DreamWorks focuses on content. Distribution has always been through the majors. To keep DreamWorks from rising, the Big Six have pulled plenty of levers," Robert said.

"So if you want independent distribution, the fastest route is to acquire a small or mid-sized distributor. They already have the channels, teams, and partnerships. We don’t start from zero. We just keep feeding them quality projects. The distribution muscle grows, and eventually expands overseas."

Irene’s eyes lit up.

Who wouldn’t want to be their own boss? Moving from investment and production into independent distribution would close the loop — "content creation – production – distribution" — and end their reliance on the Big Six. That was the endgame.

"That’s the right approach," Irene said firmly, with an approving look. "Robert, keep an eye out for acquisition targets — small or mid-sized distributors with stable theater relationships.

Overseas can come later, but ideally they have a decent library and a reasonable price so we can integrate quickly."

"Don’t worry, I’ll get the team on it," Robert replied. "Once Facebook IPOs successfully, with our capital and project slate, acquiring a small or mid-sized player is entirely doable as long as the price is sane."

"With you here, I’m at ease," Irene said, her trust genuine. "Keep at it, Robert. I believe it won’t be long before our distribution arm has a real foothold in Hollywood."

"I’ll give it everything," Robert said, determination in his eyes.

They exchanged a smile, and the energy in the room lightened.

...

Meanwhile, in Los Angeles, a tense stillness hung over the negotiation room at Focus Features.

Michael Arndt’s knuckles were white as he gripped his bag. The agreement on the table felt like a stone weight.

"$1.8 million," the executive said, his voice leaving no room for debate. "A one-time buyout for all rights to Little Miss Sunshine, including sequels and derivative works. After this, no matter how much the film earns, it’s not your concern. This is our final offer. There’s no room to negotiate."

Arndt swallowed, conflict clear in his eyes.

He had spent two years on this script, pouring himself into every character, every line. This wasn’t just a screenplay. It was his work — his child.

"What I want isn’t a lump sum," he said, his voice rough. "I want creative autonomy. I want to see it made the way I envisioned."

The head of Focus’s marketing leaned back in his chair, impatience creeping into his tone. "Mr. Arndt, you need to be realistic. $1.8 million is a sky-high number for a writer without a major credit. We’ve done our homework. Other companies are offering $800,000 at most for a buyout. We’re more than double that. Isn’t that sincere enough?"

"Sincerity isn’t measured in dollars!" Arndt stood abruptly. "Every character in this story has a soul. I can’t let it be turned into a cookie-cutter product for the sake of money."

"Creative autonomy?" The executive scoffed. "In Hollywood, capital calls the shots. What can you do by holding onto creative rights? Without our distribution, the best script in the world just sits in your drawer."

The words hit like a thorn.

He knew the executive was right. He had taken the script to studios big and small for years. He’d been turned away or told to rewrite it beyond recognition. Focus was already the most "lenient" investor he’d found.

But he still couldn’t accept it.

"I need to think," Arndt said, grabbing his backpack and nearly fleeing the room.

The executive’s cold voice followed him out. "You have 24 hours. After that, the offer is gone."