As night gradually faded, the sun of July finally climbed into the sky over the West Coast for the first time. The briefly quiet city of angels returned to its bustling state, and the fiercely competitive film industry began its silent battle once again. The weekend before the Independence Day holiday officially welcomed one of the summer’s most heavyweight productions, *Independence Day*.
Although it had premiered in the midnight slot, that show was only for sci-fi action fans; for most regular moviegoers, Friday daytime marked the start of their viewing experience.
As the sun rose, the midnight box office tally also came to an end. The box office figures for the newly released film reached the corresponding companies in record time, and then made their way to many interested parties.
In the Fox Plaza in Century City, Thomas Rothman had just entered his office when Jon Landau, the executive producer of *Independence Day* representing Fox, walked in. The plump man was holding a report, and his bright smile squeezed his excess flesh together in a particularly amusing way.
"Thomas, good news!" He seemed eager to share his excitement.
From the fat man’s face, Thomas Rothman had already guessed something. "Did the midnight screening box office exceed expectations?"
Warner Bros. and 20th Century Fox had projected a midnight box office of $4.5 million, a figure usually only achievable by top-tier blockbusters in North America.
"Not just exceeding expectations!" Jon Landau slapped the report in his hand, trying hard to contain his excitement. "$7.75 million! Thomas, we broke the record! This is the best midnight box office in North American history!"
"What?" Thomas Rothman stood up, seemingly in disbelief. "A record?" ᴜᴘᴅᴀᴛᴇ ꜰʀᴏᴍ 𝙣𝙤𝙫𝙚𝙡•𝙛𝙞𝙧𝙚•𝙣𝙚𝙩
"Yes!" Jon Landau nodded emphatically. "Duke Rosenberg’s work has achieved an incredible box office figure! $7.75 million, surpassing *Batman Returns*’s $7.54 million! This is the latest midnight box office record in North America!"
Hearing Jon Landau’s confirmation, Thomas Rothman calmed down instead. After all, he was an experienced CEO of a major corporation. He gestured for Jon Landau, who was still standing, to sit down and walked around his desk a couple of times.
Generally, the first-day box office is about three times the midnight screening, which means *Independence Day* could reach $20 million on its opening day. What about the first-weekend box office?
The corners of Thomas Rothman’s mouth curled upward, forming an almost imperceptible smile. Setting aside previous conflicts and collaborating with Duke Rosenberg again was undoubtedly the right move!
Duke Rosenberg always brought surprises!
"Jon, you call Duke immediately..."
Just as Jon Landau was about to stand up, Thomas Rothman suddenly raised his hand to stop him. "No, I’ll call him myself!"
After saying that, he took the phone from the secretary’s desk and directly dialed the number.
Since sunrise, Duke’s phone had been ringing non-stop. The release of the midnight box office and its record-breaking performance had resulted in numerous congratulatory and networking calls.
High-level executives from Warner Bros. and 20th Century Fox, agent Nancy Josephson and her ICM agency, the lawyers and accountants serving him, the stars of several films he directed and their agents, and even public relations executives who somehow managed to get his number were all calling him.
Chasing after the successful is one of Hollywood’s eternal themes. Though it was just a midnight success, it was evident that everyone was optimistic about *Independence Day*.
"No need to thank me, Thomas. I’m very satisfied with our collaboration. Does Fox’s media need to increase advertising efforts? You think so too? That’s great! Our consensus will always outweigh our disagreements! Celebration party? No rush on that; we can wait a bit..."
Under a beach umbrella at Santa Monica, Duke had just hung up the phone with Fox CEO Thomas Rothman when his phone rang again.
The caller was none other than George Lucas. After Duke modestly thanked him, Lucas continued, "Your progress far exceeds my expectations. Spielberg was not as outstanding as you in his early stages. Duke! You might be standing at the highest level of commercial directors, but keep a good mindset!"
"I understand, Uncle Lucas."
Although the success of these films was deeply tied to his years of accumulation and learning, Duke knew where these films came from and would not allow himself to be arrogant. "I know what to do."
"Congratulations, young man, on creating a new record."
After exchanging a few more words, they hung up. Duke put away his phone and looked across the small table where Scarlett Johansson was sitting in a child’s beach chair, happily enjoying a bucket of ice cream.
"Why don’t you go to the summer camp organized by the acting school?" Duke asked, turning his head.
"The school only invited a second-rate director’s summer camp!" Scarlett pulled a tissue to wipe the cream off her mouth. "You’re about to be Hollywood’s best director. I think I can learn more by following you than going to a summer camp."
"Thank you, dear. I didn’t expect you to have so much confidence in me."
Hearing Duke’s casual reply, the little girl put down her ice cream, got out of the beach chair, went around to the back of the umbrella, grabbed a beer from the cooler, opened it with a strong pull, and presented it to Duke.
"Quite rare." Duke murmured as he took it.
He took a big swig, the cold sensation dispelling the summer heat. Duke let out a small burp in satisfaction and noticed Scarlett was still watching him.
"What’s up, Scar?" Duke asked.
"Um..." Scarlett’s eyes darted as she pointed at the beer can. "Can I have a taste?"
"Wait until you’re sixteen!" Duke glared at her, and Scarlett pouted, muttering, "Cheapskate, I knew it would be . It’s not like I’ve never had any before."
"What did you say?" Duke frowned.
Scarlett turned away, swaying her upper body back to her beach chair, continuing to mumble, "Cheapskate, cheapskate..."
Hearing that incantation-like muttering, Duke almost laughed, pointing at Scarlett’s cup. "Just one sip!"
The little girl eagerly nodded. When Duke poured a small amount of beer into a cup, she raised it and drank it all in one go, looking up at Duke with big eyes. "Can I have another one?"
Duke would not be deceived by her act. He shook his head, and just then his phone rang again, choosing to ignore the seemingly pitiful little girl.
Duke was in a great mood, as the pressure from the massive investment had dissipated significantly with the record-breaking midnight box office results.
East of Santa Monica, in a mansion in Beverly Hills, regarded as one of the most luxurious residential areas in the world, the atmosphere was extremely oppressive. Several servants moved about quietly, afraid of provoking the rage of the old man sitting on the living room sofa.
The old man was none other than Sean Connery. Ever since he received a phone call, he had seemingly transformed into a ferocious beast ready to pounce.
A number that amazed and angered him!
Sean Connery had no doubt that once today’s single-day box office figures were released, it would be a number that would infuriate him, even if he had taken some action last night!
*The Rock* was a huge box office success, and he was trapped in a quagmire, unable to make a strong counterattack. Now, he could not just stand by and watch that guy—who had once done something to him—continue to succeed. Those who crossed him must pay a price; that was the simplest truth.
But could a professional film critic really stop *Independence Day*?
Sean Connery’s brows knitted tightly. Although he hadn’t seen *Independence Day*, he had heard that after the midnight box office figures were released, both Warner Bros. and 20th Century Fox held high-level meetings. It was reported that they would increase the promotional budget for *Independence Day* from the original $25 million to $35 million!
These film companies would never relent without profits, clearly showing that the market had given them immense confidence.
Indeed, a 93% audience approval rating for the midnight screening was worth such an investment!
Even if Sean Connery wished to see *Independence Day* suffer a total loss, he had to admit that the audience’s acclaim was terrifying. If there were a conversion rate of audience reception to box office similar to *The Rock*, the final box office for this film would undoubtedly reach a horrifying figure.
If all his assumptions came true, Duke Rosenberg would be standing at the top of Hollywood’s directors, becoming an object of pursuit for numerous companies, while someone like him, a fading star, would have nothing to counter him in the future. This was a deep grudge that must be avenged!
"This is just the midnight box office! Even if it hits $20 million on the first day, so what? High openings and low closings are not uncommon in films! You will not succeed!"
Sean Connery’s sinister voice revealed his inner anger. He indeed had no evidence, but the misfortunes that had happened to him did not require proof!
"You absolutely will not succeed!"
He picked up the phone and dialed public relations expert Jack’s number. The news that came through the line calmed Sean Connery’s mood slightly. Following Jack’s advice, he had the servants rush to bring today’s newspapers,which contained freshly published film reviews. The three million dollars he had thrown out played a huge role!
The servant hurried to the manor gatehouse to get the newspaper. Sean Connery’s thoughts turned to another aspect. He had sought help from CAA behind him, but CAA ignored him. The big-name agents of CAA were all busy competing for the position of Michael Ovitz who was about to leave. How could they have too much energy to take care of other things?
What’s more, in Hollywood, which pursues successful people, he is already a has-been.
The servant brought a pile of newspapers and magazines. Sean Connery turned to the entertainment page and a hint of joy appeared in his eyes.
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