The founder of Rodrian Entertainment was David Rodrian White, a Mexican descendant who had never actually been to Mexico, even though it was right next door.
He had only completed high school due to his family's difficult circumstances. With numerous siblings to support, he was largely reliant on social welfare. He was the third among six siblings.
Upon entering society, he worked hard.
Perhaps he was accustomed to a life of poverty, which drove him to strive for better.
He started by doing odd jobs, working as a laborer, and then ventured into the automotive repair field. After accumulating some experience, he eventually partnered with others to open his own small car repair shop.
They say that America is a country built on cars, which wasn't untrue. However, when it came to how much money one could earn from running a car repair shop, that was a different story.
At least, he didn't earn a considerable amount of money, but he still managed to achieve middle-class status.
His career never really took off, lingering in a state of neither success nor failure.
By chance, he saw news about "Titanic" in a newspaper. It was the end of 1997, and the film industry was witnessing the miracle of the big ship.
In 1998, he left Chicago for Los Angeles, crossing over into an inexplicable world. He started planning a film and television production company called Rodrian.
He had limited education and knew nothing about the film industry, but that didn't stop him from thinking that making movies could be lucrative.
So, at the beginning, he faced numerous obstacles. He didn't know that even after making a film, there might be theaters unwilling to screen it, nor did he understand what distribution channels were.
However, he was resilient and determined to learn.
He sent people to approach various cinema chains, all of which ended in failure. He then turned to the videocassette market as a second choice, and slowly, it seemed like he was succeeding.
His films had a chance to make money.
In the first year, he earned $130,000, but due to internal operational issues within the company, he ended up losing $50,000.
The following year, profits finally came in, albeit not much, just $200,000. Nevertheless, he saw a glimmer of hope.
In the subsequent third, fourth, and fifth years, his film career began to gain momentum.
He felt he had accumulated enough experience and was determined to produce a feature film for theaters.
This time, he poured almost all his savings, a whopping $1.5M, into the production.
Unfortunately, much like raindrops merging into the sea, the film premiered with barely a sound.
A week later, theater representatives informed them that the film was being pulled from screens.
In the end, this highly anticipated film only earned $500,000 at the box office. The loss was staggering when compared to the investment.
This failure seemed to have extinguished David Rodrian White's cinematic dreams, or perhaps it was time for him to wake up from these dreams.
Disheartened, he decided to sell the company, his only plan left.
He no longer wanted to persist. He was 45 years old, no longer young.
So, as long as the price was right, he didn't care who bought the film company. He just wanted to exit quickly.
John encountered him under such circumstances, and both sides reached an agreement.
Subsequently, Lyman engaged an accounting firm to assess the company's financial situation and determine its acquisition value.
There were many factors to consider in the valuation, from the small items like desks and sofas within the film company, to more significant assets like film copyrights that Rodrian believed held value, as well as relevant business relationships.
After three days of assessment, the accounting firm combined these assets to determine that the company's value was approximately $3M.
After six years of operation, he exchanged $3M, which was even less profitable than his car repair shop.
Of course, David accepted this outcome with resignation.
Once the acquisition terms were finalized, which stated that Lyman would pay $3M in a lump sum to fully acquire the company, the subsequent negotiations went smoothly. David Rodrian White was eager to sell and had no desire to engage in any disputes. In the presence of their respective lawyers, they swiftly signed the transfer contract.
With this, he received $3M, while Lyman gained 100% ownership of Rodrian Entertainment. The French shell studio continued to be affiliated with Europa Pictures, with both sides maintaining independent finances.
On October 29th, in a 6-story business building near Warner Bros. Studios in Los Angeles, which was the former headquarters of Rodrian Entertainment.
Inside the building, employees sat at their respective desks, their eyes filled with worry.
They all knew their boss was selling the company, and there was a possibility that they might lose their jobs at any moment.
Under these circumstances, no one had the heart to work, and all their discussions revolved around employment matters.
"Do you know who's buying the company?"
"I don't know, the boss hasn't said anything. How would I know?"
"God bless, I don't want to lose this job."
"Same here. I'd accept a pay cut if I have to."
...
Unfortunately, the employees' hopes were futile. The world of capital had always been ruthless, and Lyman never intended to inherit the company as it was.
According to his plan, this company would definitely need to lay off some employees, such as the finance department and human resources department.
He simply didn't have much time to handle the financial side of things, nor was he skilled in that area. Complicated tasks like calculating expenditures and dealing with tax matters were not his expertise.
This was the United States, where you couldn't escape various forms of taxation from birth to death.
So, his plan was to hire mainstream accounting firms to handle these tasks. They would manage reasonable tax avoidance strategies, ensuring that the books were clean. Another accounting firm would then audit the records and provide mutual oversight.
This way, the company's finance department wouldn't need too many hands.
As for the human resources department, being an outsider, he wasn't aware of the internal personnel relationships. So, he decided to clean house there as well.
For the remaining production staff, there wouldn't be any immediate changes, but those lacking in capabilities would eventually be let go.
In short, those with skills moved up, while those without moved down.
After the contract was signed, John, along with some members from CAA, began to temporarily manage the company's day-to-day operations and conduct layoffs.
Some people left, and some stayed.
Lyman didn't interfere too much, aside from the layoffs. There weren't significant changes in job positions.
He even gave a 15% raise across the board, aiming to stabilize the workforce.
As the transition slowly took place, the original Rodrian Entertainment officially changed its name to Firefly Films, complete with a newly designed company logo—an image of a firefly emitting a faint glow, with the company name beneath it.
The colors of the logo were gentle, leaning towards a cartoonish style, conveying a vivid and energetic feeling.
After two years of preparation, Lyman finally had the confidence to take this step.
Whether it was ambition, a sense of mission, or the satisfaction and foundation brought by success, on October 30, 2003, the journey of Firefly officially began.