Chapter 177: Renaming
Chapter 177: Renaming
Eric did not dwell on what the two men were thinking. Since Quentin and Lawrence did not immediately agree, he stopped bringing up the topic. In any case, as long as this collaboration went smoothly, Firefly would definitely become Quentin and Lawrence’s first choice for future cooperation.
After glancing at his watch, Eric continued, “Let’s put that matter aside for now. Time is limited, so let’s talk about the script instead. I can invest in this film, and the budget doesn’t have to be limited to one million dollars. The two of you can shoot it however you want.”
Quentin and Lawrence had originally hesitated over Eric’s invitation to join Firefly. But seeing him brush the matter aside so casually, both men suddenly felt disappointed instead. They keenly sensed they had just missed a rare opportunity and regretted not agreeing immediately.
That emotion prevented them from instantly processing Eric’s words. Only after he finished speaking and looked up at them did Lawrence react first, his face filled with delight as he confirmed, “Eric, are you serious?”
Quentin also snapped back to attention at that moment and looked at Eric with the same expression of surprise and joy.
Eric nodded again. “Of course I’m serious. But I do have a few conditions.”
The two men immediately revealed expressions of “just as expected” and simultaneously relaxed. If Eric had started out by recruiting them and agreeing to invest without any attached conditions at all, that really would have been suspicious. All they hoped was that Eric would not interfere too much with the film’s production.
“First, all the actors in the film must be selected through UTA. Do you know UTA?” Eric asked uncertainly at the end.
He had not paid much attention to UTA’s operations recently. Aside from occasionally speaking with Kapoor Sid over the phone, he only generally knew the agency was thriving. He did not know much else.
As his fame continued to grow, he had also intentionally stopped interfering with UTA’s management in order to avoid criticism.
It was not as though the media had never attacked UTA over monopoly concerns, but none of those accusations ever caused much trouble. In truth, North America’s antitrust laws were not nearly as strict as people imagined.
Take the old Paramount Decree from decades ago, for example — the regulation that prohibited film companies from vertically integrating theater chains. That law no longer restricted the major studios very much. It could not be called meaningless, but among North American theaters, the major studios openly controlled more than one-tenth of all screens. Naturally, the theaters selected by the major studios occupied the best locations, meaning that one-tenth of theaters essentially represented the elite core of the entire North American exhibition market.
Behind the scenes, the number of theaters secretly controlled by the major studios was even larger. The federal government simply turned a blind eye to it all because, while the Paramount Decree had once broken the monopoly of the major studios, it had also dealt a severe blow to Hollywood.
Now, however, Hollywood films were flourishing. Profits were rapidly increasing, and Hollywood’s global influence had become enormous. Under such favorable circumstances, unless some powerful force intervened, the federal government was not foolish enough to stir up another storm and destroy the industry’s momentum.
Hearing Eric’s question, Lawrence Bender immediately nodded. “Of course, of course we know them.”
After exchanging a glance with Quentin, he added, “That condition is no problem.”
“And secondly, the script will need some revisions as well…”
The moment Eric said that, Quentin immediately revealed an unhappy expression, though he did not dare show it too openly.
Eric merely smiled faintly. “Relax. I’m very satisfied with the content. It’s just that the title The Seven-Colored Robbers is too strange. I thought of another name that’s much better.”
Quentin relaxed immediately, while Lawrence let out an even bigger sigh of relief. If Eric had intended to drastically rewrite the script, Lawrence was worried his friend would jump up in protest and ruin the cooperation entirely. But changing only the movie title was perfectly acceptable.
Eric lowered his head, picked up a pen, and directly wrote two words onto the script before handing it over.
Quentin and Lawrence both leaned forward together and unconsciously read it aloud:
“Reservoir Dogs?”
“Yes, Reservoir Dogs,” Eric replied with a faintly mischievous smile. “I think the title fits the story perfectly. In my eyes, every character in this story is a reservoir dog, aren’t they?”
This time, Lawrence Bender turned to Quentin.
Quentin scratched his broad forehead with one finger several times. After struggling internally for a moment, he reluctantly nodded. “Fine. We’ll call it Reservoir Dogs.”
In truth, he also felt the new title was much better than the original one. Still, as the script’s author, having the movie title directly changed by the young man sitting opposite him naturally left him somewhat depressed.
“There’s one more thing,” Eric continued. “I think seven robbers is a little too many. Six would be enough. I read the script, and three of them die almost immediately anyway. Because of that, the story also has several extra dialogue scenes that feel a bit unnecessary to me. Of course, this is only a suggestion. Whether you want to change it is entirely up to you.”
This small suggestion had only occurred to Eric on the spot. It was simply his own mischievous desire to make this classic B-movie closer to the version from his previous life. If Quentin refused to change it, that was fine too. The real highlight of this script was its nonlinear narrative structure.
If everything were laid out straightforwardly, the story would actually become incredibly dull:
A mob boss gathers several robbers identified by color-coded names to rob a jewelry store of diamonds. One undercover informant betrays them, the police surround the group, several die in a shootout, the survivors escape to a warehouse, conflict erupts among them, and in the end everyone dies together.
That was all.
The strength of film lay in the fact that it could present an utterly ordinary story in an interesting way through countless methods of storytelling.
“I’ll think about it,” Quentin said with a nod after seeing that Eric truly was only offering a suggestion.
Although Quentin’s first instinct was to refuse, he did not reject the idea outright. As for what to do in the end, he decided to discuss it with Lawrence afterward.
“Then I don’t have any other issues,” Eric said as he leaned comfortably back in his chair and looked at the two men. “Do you have any questions?”
Quentin pulled the script closer and pressed a hand over it before asking, “Eric, regarding… regarding the film’s director?”
Eric shrugged with a smile. “Since I agreed to invest, that naturally means I also agreed to your earlier condition. I won’t interfere with the content of the film at all. You can make it however you want. Final cut rights will also belong to you.”
He had no expectations whatsoever for the film’s box office performance. In his memories, this movie had become extremely famous, but its ticket sales had never been especially astonishing.
However, it had launched several excellent actors into fame, and that was exactly what Eric valued most. As long as every actor cast in Reservoir Dogs came from UTA, then even if the movie only gained prestige without recouping its costs, it would still be worthwhile to Eric.