Hollywood Director 1992

"Chris, how much money do you have? I mean, how much is all your savings?" Back at the Little Bird Street burger joint, Link found Chris Bauer and asked.

"What for?"

Chris Bauer put down the metal tray, flexed his bicep, and checked if it had gotten any bigger.

"Stop looking at your muscles for now."

Link patted his shoulder blade, "It's like this, a cinema has agreed to screen my movie, 10 theaters, for seven consecutive days, but I need to pay a deposit. How much money do you have? Lend it all to me, in less than a month, I'll pay you back in full, and I can even give you 10% interest, how about it? How much money do you have?"

"Screening a movie requires a deposit? How much is the deposit? I don't know if I have enough money."

"Not much, thirty thousand dollars!"

"Thirty thousand?! Are you crazy? Look at me, do I look like someone who has thirty thousand dollars?"

"Then how much do you have?"

"I haven't spent all the pay I earned these past two days, about 250 dollars, do you want to borrow it?"

Chris Bauer blinked, his short, thick eyebrows moved, and the overall attractiveness of his face dropped below 30.

"...250 dollars? Forget it, keep it and spend it yourself."

Not having borrowed any money from Chris Bauer, Link continued to borrow from others, including part-time colleagues, acquaintances in the youth apartment, and even the owners of several fast-food restaurants.

He didn't borrow any.

The part-time colleagues and people in the youth apartment were almost all living paycheck to paycheck, and every time they earned money from the film crew or part-time jobs, they could spend it all in less than a day.

Here in America, especially among young people, there is almost no habit of saving money, and there are no worries about getting married, buying a house, or raising children. Everyone is a captive of hedonism.

As for those fast-food restaurant owners, with his current creditworthiness and repayment ability, it was not enough for them to lend him more than $1,000.

When Link offered a guarantee of borrowing $1 and repaying $10, no one still lent him money. The owner of the Chinese restaurant regarded him as a scammer and didn't let him continue working at the restaurant, fearing trouble.

Link could have borrowed money from Jerome Preston.

Not to mention that based on their relationship, Jerome might not necessarily lend it, even if he did, he would be looked down upon in the process of borrowing the money, and he would owe a big favor later.

In addition, borrowing money privately in America is not a popular behavior.

After a busy day, Link didn't borrow a single dollar. He tossed and turned in bed at night, unable to fall asleep, and even the moonlight outside the window felt dazzling.

A little after one o'clock in the morning, he thought of a desperate measure.

Getting out of bed, he turned on the desk lamp, took out a new manuscript and a pen, and wrote two words on the cover of the manuscript—"Kill Bill."

"Kill Bill" is Quentin Tarantino's 2003 film, which tells the story of a retired female assassin whose entire family is killed at her wedding by the former boss, and after being seriously injured and comatose for four years, she wakes up and travels the world seeking revenge.

It's a bit similar to the experience of Liu Zhengfeng, the head of the Hengshan School in Jin Yong's "Smiling Proud Wanderer", except that he failed to embark on the road of revenge after his whole family was killed.

"Kill Bill" was a huge hit upon its release, and three films were made in succession. It is considered the pinnacle of Quentin Tarantino's directing career and a classic of violent aesthetics.

The reason Link is copying this script is to try and see if he can exchange it for some dollars from Quentin Tarantino.

Quentin's new film "Reservoir Dogs" has performed averagely at the box office, but the videotape sales are good. It sold 120,000 copies this week, with cumulative sales reaching 6.3 million US dollars, and the estimated sales are over 10 million.

Quentin has also made a lot of money from this, several hundred thousand dollars.

The reason for selling the script to Quentin, rather than others, or the seven major Hollywood film companies, or numerous independent production companies, is because he has done this before, but so far no film company has contacted him to acquire the adaptation rights to his script.

Link also copied a short science fiction novel and submitted it to a publishing house. More than three months have passed, and there is still no news.

Selling Quentin's script to Quentin has a higher probability of success than submitting it to a film company.

Writing from midnight to morning, Link stretched his stiff lower back, found Chris Bauer to help him ask for leave, and after returning, ate a bowl of poached egg noodles and continued to write the script at his desk.

"Look at me, Matsumoto, take a good look at my face, look at my eyes, look at my nose, look at my chin, look at my mouth. Does it look familiar? Do I look like someone... someone you murdered?"

Quentin's scripts have a common problem: too much nonsense, but this nonsense contains many humorous parts, as well as places that echo other plots. Deleting it will make a big difference.

Link has watched "Kill Bill 1 \u0026 2" several times, and has also analyzed the structure and lens language of the films, but he hasn't memorized the lines.

When copying the script, he didn't try to retell the original script lines, but designed the lines in his own language style according to the main storyline of the original script.

At the same time, he also expanded the description of Chinese Kung Fu.

He doesn't know if the revised script will impress Quentin, but he can only try to do it.

Under the light, Link buried himself at his desk to write the script, and the heroine also followed the plot of his pen, flying from Texas in the United States to Okinawa, Tokyo, China, and Mexico, killing one enemy after another.

Before the story was finished, a hungry roar came from his stomach.

Link raised his stiff neck, the hour hand of the alarm clock on the table pointed to the six-to-seven range, the chandelier in the room lit up like daylight, and the morning sun outside the window had unknowingly turned into the setting sun.

Link put down his pen, rubbed his wrist, went to the kitchen to cook a portion of spaghetti, took a piece of beef brisket from the small refrigerator, cut it into small pieces, blanched it, then put it in a pot to fry and boil. Then, he minced two fresh tomatoes, ginger slices, scallions, black sesame seeds, seasoning sauce, etc., and put them in the pot to stew, glug, glug ~.

After eating tomato and beef brisket spaghetti, Link remembered something. He went downstairs to the phone booth and called Quentin, asking if Quentin had time tomorrow, as he had a very interesting script he wanted him to take a look at.

Quentin said he didn't have time. He was in New York these two days promoting 'Reservoir Dogs' and handling some work matters. He would probably be back next week, and he could look at his script next week.

But next week would be too late.

Link asked him if he could come back tomorrow or the day after tomorrow?

Quentin asked suspiciously, why the rush to just see a script?

Link said there was something very important, a matter of life and death, and asked him where he was in New York so he could bring the script to him.

Quentin's tone became very helpless, saying he could give him the contact information of producer Lawrence Bender, and it would be the same to have Lawrence Bender look at the script.

Link was considering Quentin's suggestion.

Although Lawrence Bender was a good producer with a certain vision, a script like 'Kill Bill' was a perfect fit for Quentin, but it wasn't certain if it would work in Lawrence Bender's hands.

In addition, time was tight. Having Lawrence Bender look at the script would take at least a day. If it didn't work out, there wouldn't be enough time to go back to Quentin.

Read carefully!

Link shamelessly asked Quentin where he was staying in New York, wanting to bring a gift to visit him.

Quentin helplessly told him the address, and added that he would be flying to London the day after tomorrow to participate in the film's overseas promotion. If he insisted on coming, it was best to come before tomorrow.

Link said okay, see you in New York tomorrow.

After Quentin hung up, he dialed Jerome Preston's phone.

He told Jerome that he was raising money and asked if he could talk to the manager of Consolidated Theatres in Burbank again, to see if paying a $10,000 deposit first was feasible.

A $10,000 deposit to reserve three days, and if the box office performance was below average after three days of release, they would reconsider.

Jerome Preston cursed him as a madman, then helplessly told him that he could talk to the United Theatres manager, but he had to give him an answer before the day after tomorrow, choosing which way to distribute the film.

Because the theater also had to do some preparation work before the film was released, he hoped he could understand.

Link expressed his understanding and thanked Jerome.

Jerome Preston said that he had submitted the theater marketing plan he wrote to AMC Entertainment Group after organizing and processing it. If the headquarters also liked the plan, there might be a bonus.

He asked him if he wanted to wait for a while before considering self-funded distribution.

Link asked Jerome, are you sure there will be a bonus? If there is a bonus, according to AMC Group's practice, how long will it take for the bonus to be paid out?

Jerome Preston said he wasn't sure. According to practice, if there was one, it would be paid out before Christmas.

Link said forget it, good night to him and his family.

Putting down the phone, Link hurried upstairs, preparing to go back to continue writing the script.

At the turn of the stairs on the third floor, his shoulder suddenly bumped into something very soft and elastic. The owner of the thing that was bumped into 'ah~'ed, and the air had more of the fragrance of roses mixed with the scent of orange, which was clearer than last time.

"Sorry, ma'am, I was too careless. Oh, aren't you Ms. Monica Bellucci?"

Link took a step back and apologized, looking at the woman who looked like the Italian actress, known as 'Ball Flower'.

"Hello, do you know me?"

The woman covered her left chest and sized him up, her English pronunciation not very fluent.

"My name is Link, and I work part-time at the Hollywood Boulevard Pizza shop. I delivered pizza to your crew a few days ago. It's 'Dracula', right? I saw you in the rest area that day. After all, you are very beautiful and impressive."

"Thank you!"

"Ms. Bellucci, the security situation here is very general. For beautiful women, the danger index is even higher. If you live alone, it's best to go out less at night, goodbye!"

Link waved his hand, strode up to the fourth floor, returned to the small apartment, and continued writing the script.

Around two o'clock in the morning, he finished writing the revised version of the 'Kill Bill' script. The entire script was 22 pages, and the elements such as narration, lines, scene design, and character relationships added up to about 30,000 words.

After finishing writing, he drank a cup of hot water and found that he wasn't sleepy at all, and was very excited.

After walking around the house, he sat down again and wrote a new script, 'Django Unchained'. The new script was Plan B.

If Quentin didn't like 'Kill Bill', he could give him the second script to look at.

What if he didn't like either of them?

emm, hopefully that doesn't happen.