Hollywood Director 1992

Before dawn, Link woke up Quentin, who was still asleep, to sign the contract and transfer the money.

Quentin grumbled as he got up, repeatedly asking Link if he really wanted to sell the script, and if he sold it, there would be no turning back.

Link said it was true, he would never regret it, and they could sign the contract.

Quentin thought this was a good idea, so the two of them first went to the Rogers \u0026 Jones Law Firm on Wall Street next door, and signed a draft contract under the notary of a lawyer.

Afterwards, they went to Citibank to transfer the money and complete the transaction.

Link breathed a sigh of relief when he saw the numbers in his Citibank account, this trip was not in vain.

He went outside and called Jerome Preston, who was far away in Los Angeles, to ask about his discussions with the United Theater manager.

Jerome Preston told him helplessly that William Mason, the manager of the United Theater in Burbank, had agreed to lower the amount of the deposit, but the minimum was $20,000, and he wouldn't do it for less.

"Link, there's really no need to haggle over a deposit of twenty or thirty thousand dollars. If you're short of money and don't want to borrow from others, how about this? I'll pay the deposit for you first, and then deduct it from your share after the AMC headquarters issues the bonus?"

"Jerome, thank you for your kindness, but no need. Please tell Manager William Mason that I will pay him the full $30,000 deposit. I hope that when 'Buried' is released, he can give me some prominent display positions in the theater to facilitate the promotion of the film."

"You have money to pay the deposit? Where did you earn $30,000 in three days? You didn't go to rob a bank in New York, did you?"

"Of course not. Look at the movies, which robber is Chinese? Chinese people get rich by using their brains, they don't need to do that. I wrote a script and someone took a fancy to it and sold it for a good price."

Link glanced at Quentin, who was making a phone call in the car.

Before coming to New York, the reason why he asked Jerome Preston to help negotiate the price and lower the amount of the deposit was because he was worried that the script would not sell for more than $30,000.

Now that the script has sold for $50,000, money gives courage to the cowardly.

He also doesn't need to appear too shabby. Being too shabby in America will be looked down upon, and earning tens of thousands of dollars in three days will only make people admire him.

"A script sold for tens of thousands of dollars? Tsk tsk, Link, I have to say, you are really an incredible guy. You are so talented, why don't you continue to be a screenwriter, or a very promising marketing specialist, but instead waste your energy on a film project that is destined to have no hope? Why do you do this? Sometimes I really don't understand the way your kind of people think."

Jerome Preston said with a complicated tone.

Link laughed and asked Jerome Preston to help contact several theaters for the screening, and then come back to sign the distribution contract and do the film promotion.

— —

In the car by the side of the street, Quentin saw that Link was still on the phone, so he also took out his newly bought Motorola phone and called the producer Lawrence Bender.

After the phone call was connected, Quentin told Lawrence in an excited tone that he had bought a very good script at an extremely low price, about the same price as the last time he bought a jacket.

"Script? You used to say that other people's scripts were rubbish. Why would you think of spending money to buy other people's scripts?"

"Haha, it's different. This script is really very good, very much to my taste. I bet that this movie will be very good when it's made.

I'm even thinking now, should I shoot this new script first, and then shoot the script I'm writing in two years?

Writing scripts is too brain-draining. I've been writing for half a year, and I've lost half of my hair, but I haven't been able to write a script that satisfies me."

Quentin said.

"Let's not talk about changing the script for now. We'll talk about it when you get back to Los Angeles. Tell me, where did you buy the script? Since it's a good script, why would the screenwriter sell it at a low price? Could you have met a scammer?"

"Absolutely not. The person who sold me the script is called Link, that Chinese director who is almost as handsome as me.

He is indeed a very powerful guy, whether it is his talent as a screenwriter or his ability as a director, he is not much worse than me.

It's just that he may have some problems with his brain, he's a deadhead. The reason why he sold the script is because he wants to self-fund the distribution of 'Buried'."

"Self-fund the distribution of 'Buried'? Is that the bizarre movie that he wrote, directed, and starred in himself."

"Haha, that's right, it's that movie. I've told him many times, 'Don't bother, buddy, that movie has no selling points at all, and it will lose money even if it's released.' He doesn't believe it and ran to find film distribution companies to cooperate with. I heard that he looked for fifty or sixty companies, and no film company was willing to help him distribute 'Buried'.

Even so, he is still unwilling to give up, and he even wants to self-fund the distribution of the movie."

Quentin glanced at Link in the phone booth, lowered his voice and said, "Self-funding the distribution of a movie requires money. If he doesn't have money, he can only sell the script. What's even more ridiculous is, do you know what it is?"

"What?"

"Haha, in order to sell the script, he specially flew from Los Angeles to New York to personally deliver this good script to me.

I asked him how much he wanted to sell it for, and he said whatever. I tentatively said $50,000, and he agreed without haggling and reached out to shake my hand and say, 'Happy cooperation.'"

Quentin grinned and chuckled softly.

"Link may be a good screenwriter and a promising director, but he probably isn't very good at negotiations and transactions."

"That's what I think too, so when I signed the contract with him, I felt a little guilty, like I was bullying an honest person."

"Link is willing to trade, so you don't need to have any psychological burden."

"I understand, I won't say anymore, Link is here, I'm going to take him to the airport."

Quentin hung up the phone and looked at Link who was sitting in the passenger seat, "Aren't you going to play in New York for a few more days?"

"'Buried' will be released in a couple of days, I need to go back and deal with some things."

Link fastened his seat belt.

"Where will it be released? Will there be screenings here in New York?"

Quentin started the car.

"It will only be released in one theater in Burbank for the time being."

"Only 1?"

The muscles in the corners of Quentin's mouth twitched.

In the film industry, even the films with the least market potential have at least 4 theaters when they are initially screened.

Link was busy running around, selling scripts to raise money to self-fund the distribution of the movie, but he only contacted one theater.

"One theater has 10 screens. Although it's not many, I believe that in a few weeks, not only will New York cinemas be showing 'Buried', but cinemas in all cities in America will be showing 'Buried'."

"Ah, yes, yes, you're right, I hope your dream comes true."

Quentin clenched his teeth hard and kept thinking about sad things so that he wouldn't burst out laughing in front of Link.

The car arrived at John F. Kennedy International Airport. Link got out of the car and waved goodbye. Quentin watched his back disappear into the distance, raised the car window, and burst into laughter on the steering wheel.