Made In Hollywood

In the conference room of Fox Tower at Century City, 20th Century Fox's monthly meeting was coming to an end. After discussing various film projects, the focus shifted to Lucasfilm.

"I've scheduled the screening of the 'Speed' sample for tomorrow morning," announced Townsend Rossman, the head of the distribution department and the person responsible for liaising with Lucasfilm. He was also the main advocate for bringing in the film. "George himself will attend the screening. This is our chance. I suggest we show some attention to 'Speed' to further gain George's favor and encourage him to restart the Star Wars series."

"Rosie,"

CEO Jeff Gianopoulos, seated at the head of the table, addressed his secretary, "Cancel tomorrow morning's schedule. I'll personally host George."

Across from Townsend Rossman sat Tim Fischer. The two had a professional relationship as distant as their seating positions. Tim's brows were furrowed. Initially, he hadn't paid much attention to this film, but after hearing the name "Speed" repeatedly, some memories resurfaced. He opened the file in front of him, skimmed through the relevant documents, and finally recalled a script he had casually thrown to his assistant.

That rejected script from CAA? Did someone actually manage to secure funding and direct it?

Tim Fischer's brows furrowed even deeper. As someone who had turned down the script, he did not want 20th Century Fox to sign this film. However, the company had vested interests in the Star Wars franchise and Lucasfilm, so outright opposing the project would be unwise.

After a brief moment of thought, he lightly tapped the table to draw everyone's attention. "Jeff, there's something you should be aware of. The director of 'Speed,' Duke Rosenberg, was dropped by CAA last year. We have a close working relationship with CAA. They just packaged 'Alien 3' for us and helped us secure the adaptation rights to 'Interview with the Vampire,' edging out Warner Brothers. CAA and Fox will soon have another major collaboration. We should consider whether signing this film might affect our partnership with CAA."

George Lucas was an important partner, but CAA's influence couldn't be ignored either. Jeff Gianopoulos, as CEO, would need to weigh both sides carefully. After about thirty seconds of contemplation, he said, "We'll screen the sample first. If the quality is subpar, we'll push it straight to the video market. If it meets our standards, we'll arrange a test screening to gauge the market's response."

"This meeting is adjourned," he declared.

No one objected to Jeff Gianopoulos's decision. It was the most logical approach. If the film couldn't generate revenue, Fox wouldn't invest resources. If it could, they wouldn't turn away profits.

Tim Fischer was pleased with this outcome. Was it worth Fox's resources to back a rookie director's film? In his view, even if Fox signed the film to please George Lucas, it would likely get a limited release in a few remote theaters before heading straight to the video market.

Back in his office, he made a point to call Martin Bob of CAA.

"'Speed'? Duke?"

Martin Bob's voice on the other end made it clear that he didn't remember such a minor figure. After a long pause, he finally recalled, "Oh, that no-good kid from the Rosenberg family? Don't bother with him. He's a small fry!"

Indeed, just a small fry. Tim Fischer pushed the matter aside for now. There was no need to waste too much energy on such a minor player. Tomorrow's screening would reveal the outcome anyway.

When Duke stepped into Fox Tower again, the treatment he received was vastly different. Several high-ranking executives from 20th Century Fox were already waiting in the lobby, but they weren't there for him. The attention was all for the man walking ahead—George Lucas. Duke, an unknown nobody, still didn't command the attention of Fox's management.

Even when shaking hands with him, Fox's managers were merely going through the motions.

No one gave him much importance, and Duke knew better than to speak unnecessarily. He understood that he wasn't the focus of this screening. Quietly, he followed George Lucas and Robin Grande, along with the crew carrying the film reels, into an elevator that took them to the top floor of Fox Tower and into a modest screening room.

"Hello, George…"

The man who greeted Lucas with a handshake was familiar to Duke—Jeff Gianopoulos, CEO of 20th Century Fox. When George introduced Duke, Jeff only gave a slight nod in acknowledgment.

Probably because of Lucas's personal involvement, many of Fox's top brass attended the screening. Among those Duke recognized were CEO Jeff Gianopoulos, distribution head Townsend Rossman, and Tim Fischer, with whom Duke had previously dealt. There were also unfamiliar faces, likely Fox's film selection staff.

These people would decide how 'Speed' would be distributed!

Different marketing strategies would result in drastically different market outcomes. Without Fox's support, the film would undoubtedly flop in theaters. Though Duke was new to Hollywood, he wasn't naïve enough to think that a film would automatically succeed just because it was good.

To get Fox to invest in the film's release, he needed to show them its selling points and its potential for profit. For a company driven by commercial interests, even George Lucas's name couldn't compete with the promise of financial gain.

Fortunately, 'Speed' had very clear selling points.

Sitting in the back row, near the left corner, Duke patiently observed and waited. Fox was one of the top companies in Hollywood, and its professionals had sharp eyes for selecting films. Using George Lucas's backing would help mitigate any prejudice against a newcomer's work.

Townsend Rossman sat beside Lucas, suppressing the impatience brewing inside him. His irritation wasn't directed at George Lucas, of course, but at the film about to be shown.

To be frank, his advocacy for Fox to distribute 'Speed' stemmed more from strategic considerations. As head of distribution, Townsend was keen to push for the revival of the Star Wars series, aiming to strengthen his position for the upcoming CEO race when Jeff stepped down next year. As a smart man, he had sensed something unusual about this film, which had been strongly recommended by Lucasfilm.

After some investigation, the picture became clear—the film's director was the son of Leah Rosenberg. Anyone who experienced Hollywood in the 1970s knew how close those two families were.

Townsend had already drawn his own conclusions: This was just another case of a young person trying to use connections to break into the industry, much like Sofia Coppola.

Hollywood wasn't short of people like that, and they rarely offered much value. Nevertheless, he pushed for Fox to sign the distribution deal because he wanted to strengthen ties with George Lucas. With the current CEO on his way out, reviving the Star Wars franchise would make Townsend the strongest contender for the top position.

Though his eyes were fixed on the screen, most of Townsend's attention remained on George Lucas—until the film began, and everything changed.

He had seen countless movies, but never one with such relentless pacing or intensity. From the moment the security guard was shot, it felt as if his heart was in a vise. The rapid, continuous cuts between ultra-short shots created a freshness rarely seen in Hollywood films in recent years!

Especially the quick shifts between shots of the police, criminals, and elevator passengers, capturing their emotions and expressions in rapid succession. Although it was clear the passengers would be saved in the end, he still found himself worrying about their fate.

In less than twenty minutes, the opening sequence completely transformed Townsend Rossman's view of 'Speed.' The film far exceeded his highest expectations.

"This is an A-grade commercial film!" The thought hit him like a lightning bolt.

Sitting in the row behind Townsend Rossman was Collette , one of Fox's film selection experts. He had some influence in deciding which films the company should distribute. As a professional, Collette watched countless new films each year to recommend the best ones to the company, always staying attuned to market trends. Unlike film critics, his job wasn't to critique for the sake of it but to understand what kind of films the market wanted.

At the start, he assumed this was just a courtesy screening. Was a film by a twenty-something rookie director worth pulling in Hollywood's top experts?

He and his two colleagues, who shared the same view, spent the first few minutes quietly discussing the latest industry news, showing little interest in the film.

That is, until the screeching sound of the elevator's freefall caught their attention. They glanced at the screen—and couldn't look away.

From the outset, the film masterfully manipulated emotions. The pounding, rapid drumbeats of the score, the extreme car chases, the large-scale explosions—all were hallmarks of top-tier commercial cinema.

"Potential?" Collette Singer asked his colleague, though the question was more for confirmation.

"Definitely potential!"

Both colleagues responded with certainty.

"This isn't a traditional action film," the one on the left remarked. "The thrilling spectacle is absolutely nerve-wracking."

"And…" the one on the right added, "the explosion, chase, and crash scenes use new filming techniques. It's all fresh, exciting stuff!"

"How did they do it? It's as if the camera is inside the explosion or the crash."

Collett turned his head to glance at the calm young man sitting quietly in the corner. Inspiration struck him. "Could he have placed expensive wireless high-speed cameras inside the explosion and crash sites? This is pure madness!"