Huayu: This director is pretty strong.

Chapter 207 Exorbitant Copyright Prices: A Bloodthirsty Game at the Negotiation Table

No one spoke in the screening room.

A minimum guarantee of $12 million, plus a 10% share of the global box office revenue.

In the 2000 independent film market, this condition was no different from open robbery.

Even for a new film by a top Hollywood director, it's not always possible to secure such a contract during the rough cut stage.

Michael Horton lowered his crossed legs and sat up straight, his movements gradually draining the remaining warmth from the conference room.

Sony's classic budget limit is ten million US dollars for a buyout, and Su Wan's offer has just crossed his bottom line.

"Ms. Su, this is not negotiation, it's extortion."

Horton pressed his hands against the back of the chair, leaned forward, and tried to use his size and volume to force the young woman across from him to back away.

"This is a Chinese film, without Hollywood stars or English dialogue. Apart from the special effects, it doesn't have a wide audience in the North American market."

He stared at Su Wan, speaking faster and faster.

"With a minimum guarantee of 12 million, if the box office fails, Sony will lose everything."

"Mr. Horton, your heart rate reached 120 beats per minute while you were watching the film."

Su Wan met his gaze, her fingers still pressed on the document, not even trembling at the edge of the page.

"Language is not a barrier; visual spectacle is the real currency."

She looked up at Pierre Durand beside her.

"Ang Lee's 'Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon' can break down cultural barriers, and the heavy industrial aesthetics of 'The Wandering Earth' can do the same. Moreover, with the endorsement of the Cannes opening film, its marketing costs will be significantly reduced."

Pierre Durand, standing to the side, added a comment as he happened to be there.

"Cannes will provide the film with the best red carpet resources."

He looked at Chen Yan, the gold palm envelope pressed against his chest.

"Director Chen, if you agree, I can contact the organizing committee right now and introduce you to the chairman of the jury for the main competition."

As soon as those words were spoken, the already tense atmosphere could no longer be contained.

The head of Fox Searchlight gritted his teeth.

He knew that if Sony Classics won the film, Fox would be repeatedly compared to them at next year's earnings conference.

"Thirteen million!"

The Fox executive raised his hand, his voice already strained.

"Eight percent of the revenue, that's Fox's limit."

"Fourteen million!"

Horton raised his voice and shouted out a number that was beyond his authority.

"Profit sharing remains unchanged!"

Two Hollywood moguls, in a run-down art-house cinema in Milan, tore away the last shred of dignity for a rough 20-minute clip of a Chinese newcomer.

Chen Yan stepped aside, handing the negotiating table over to Su Wan.

He watched as this girl, who had once been driven to the brink by Lu Haiming, now stood among international publishers, carefully maneuvering and perfectly timing their competitive mindset.

Su Wan did not immediately agree to Horton's request, but instead turned her gaze to the Fox executive and gently shook her head.

"Fox has the world's most sophisticated science fiction film distribution network."

She picked up the document, her tone remaining completely unchanged.

"But your offer lacks sincerity."

After saying that, she made a gesture as if to hand the document to Horton.

"etc!"

The Fox executive gripped his phone tightly, the veins on the back of his hand bulging.

In front of everyone, he dialed the hotline of the president of Fox Studios in Los Angeles.

After a two-minute whispered conversation, he hung up the phone, his Adam's apple bobbing, before looking at Su Wan again.

"A minimum of fifteen million US dollars."

The Fox executive stared at her, sweat beading on his forehead.

"Twelve percent of the global box office revenue."

He paused, as if he were putting his last chip on the table.

"In addition, Fox has committed to investing no less than $20 million in global marketing and distribution, on the condition that all overseas rights to 'The Wandering Earth,' including videotape, DVD, and television broadcasting rights, belong to us."

Horton loosened the back of his chair, his shoulders slumping.

At this price, even Sony's classic models can't compete.

Su Wan did not look at Chen Yan.

"make a deal."

She reached out her hand.

The Fox executive grasped her hand; his palm was covered in cold sweat.

He knew he had signed a betting agreement that put his entire career at stake.

He won, and his career skyrocketed at Fox.

He lost, so he packed his things and left.

Chen Yan took the envelope bearing the Palme d'Or logo from Pierre.

See you in Paris, Pierre.

"See you in Paris, Director Chen."

Pierre let out a long breath, and his tense shoulders and back finally relaxed.

The news reached China late at night, Beijing time.

The light was still on in General Manager Han's office at China Film Group.

As Mr. Han looked at the copy of the English contract that came out of the fax machine, with the Fox searchlight stamp pressed against the bottom of the page, he smoked three cigarettes in a row.

A minimum of fifteen million US dollars.

That's equivalent to 120 million RMB.

Chen Yan not only recouped his entire investment, but also pocketed the profits before the film was even released.

Even more crucially, he secured a ticket to the opening film of Cannes.

"Good lad, this fire is big enough."

General Manager Han stubbed out his cigarette in the ashtray, grabbed the red secure phone on the table, and dialed the number of the head of the publicity department.

"Push the news of Chen Yan signing a record-breaking overseas rights deal in Milan to the entire internet."

He held the phone between his fingers and tapped the table with his other hand.

"Tomorrow morning, the front page of every newspaper must be 'The Wandering Earth'."

No one dared to interrupt on the other end of the phone.

"Also, notify all cinema managers nationwide to attend a meeting at China Film Group at 2 PM tomorrow."

President Han's tone was so forceful that the other person even had to breathe softly.

"Anyone who dares to be absent will have all films distributed by China Film Group suspended from distribution in the future."

Once the order was issued, the entire China Film Group's publicity and distribution system started operating overnight, and the stagnant domestic film market was stirred up completely.

Tianjin, top floor of the Lu Group headquarters.

Lu Haiming stood in front of the floor-to-ceiling window, looking down at the city lights below.

Mr. Zhou pushed open the office door, his steps unsteady, clutching a newly printed webpage news article in his hand.

"Mr. Lu, we have the results from Milan."

Mr. Zhou's voice trembled, and the pages of the paper shook as well.

"Fox Searchlight acquired the overseas distribution rights for $15 million."

He swallowed hard and continued.

"The Cannes film selectors personally visited him and invited him to make the opening film."

The only sound in the office was the faint hum of the air conditioner.

"China Film Group has already taken action. President Han is personally involved, strongly pressuring major cinema chains to schedule screenings."

Lu Haiming did not turn around.

His face was reflected in the windowpane, and his refined and easygoing demeanor was gradually peeled away by the cold white light of the room.

The cinema alliance formed by Li Jianguo became a joke in the face of absolute capital and official power.

Those opportunistic local cinema chains have long since sided with China Film Group.

"Where is Comprador Wang?"

Lu Haiming asked.

Italian police reported that they arrested several terrorists who attempted to disrupt the film festival.

President Zhou kept his head down, not daring to look at his back.

"Wang, the comprador, is also in there. He is charged with burglary and illegal possession of dangerous chemicals."

He paused for a moment, then lowered his voice.

"The Italian authorities refused bail."

Lu Haiming closed his eyes.

Chen Yan was not crushed in Milan; instead, he donned a dazzling suit of armor and prepared to return home to settle scores.

"Notify the legal department to destroy all the accounting books for the clock tower project from that year."

Lu Haiming turned around and walked to his desk.

"Give the relevant personnel a resettlement allowance and send them to Southeast Asia."

He pulled open the bottom drawer.

Inside was a document, the project approval application for Chen Yan's next film, "Thunder".

"He wanted to make this movie, to bring up what happened back then."

Lu Haiming picked up the lighter on the table, lit the document, threw it into the ashtray, and watched the flames engulf Chen Yan's name.

"Go and contact those old connections at the broadcasting station."

He stared at the firelight, the gentleness on his face completely vanished.

"Tell them that I am willing to invest 500 million yuan to establish a fund to support mainstream films."

The flames flickered up the corner of the paper, and the black ash gradually sank to the bottom of the jar.

There is only one condition.

Lu Haiming raised his eyes, his voice choked in his throat.

"Any of Chen Yan's works that involve realistic themes will not be approved."

He reached out and closed the drawer.

"I want to ensure that he can't even set up a single camera in the country."