章 5: Chapter 5: Dawn Breaks
There was no surprise when Duke walked out of the Warner building, feeling both disappointed and yet full of determination. Although he had faced rejection multiple times in a single day, it didn't deter him from seeking out even the smallest of opportunities.
This was an industry where connections, experience, and past success mattered the most. Duke had almost none of these. If he had a movie that grossed even ten or one million dollars, his treatment by film companies would have been completely different.
Unfortunately, the hardest step to take in Hollywood is always the first one. In this industry, opportunities often outweigh talent.
Opportunities are created and seized through hard work. If you don't strive for them, they will never appear.
Over the next ten days, Duke moved tirelessly from one film company to another, as if he had the undying spirit of a Spartan. Paramount, Disney, MGM, Universal, Sony-Columbia—he had visited them all. Even second-tier companies like New Line and Carolco, and rising stars like Miramax, had witnessed his efforts.
During this short yet seemingly long period, Duke handed out copies of his script and received countless rejections. He hit wall after wall in Hollywood but never gave up.
After visiting every major film company, Duke decided to pause his quest for opportunities at these places. The remaining smaller studios didn't have the capacity to invest in films with his budget or the means to raise the millions required.
While the world was buzzing in awe over James Cameron's *Terminator 2*, Duke tried to get close to renowned producers like Jerry Bruckheimer, Kathleen Kennedy, Jon Landau, and Anne Spielberg, pestering them for opportunities. Still, the answer was always no.
Some companies and producers were interested in the script. Paramount and Jerry Bruckheimer found it intriguing, but they firmly rejected Duke's request to direct.
Even when Duke offered to sell the script for a symbolic one-dollar fee just to get a chance to direct, the answer was still no.
They weren't friends or family, and no one was willing to risk a multi-million dollar budget on a director with no proven track record, no matter how much Duke tried to persuade them.
Apart from producers and studios, there was still another avenue for Duke: seeking investment from banks or foundations. Although film investment funds weren't as common in Hollywood as they would be later, there were still a few.
In Malibu, Duke finally managed to meet with a film fund manager.
"Having made two experimental films and graduating with top grades from CalArts' Film and Video program doesn't prove anything..."
This was one of Duke's few qualifications, but it wasn't enough to impress the AUG Film Fund.
While Hollywood's big studios often made false accounts or hid box office earnings to swindle investors, Duke obviously lacked the power to extract large sums of money from these financial sharks.
By the tenth day of July, after being rejected everywhere, Duke turned to his last and best hope: his mother's close friend, George Lucas, a world-famous figure in both Hollywood and beyond.
Duke had initially wanted to succeed on his own but wasn't so stubborn as to ignore other possibilities. Using every advantage to create opportunities isn't something to be ashamed of.
Still, he had always considered this a last resort.
Unlike the companies and producers who wouldn't give him much time, Duke knew he had more room to prepare if he went to see Lucas. He wasn't going to Lucasfilm but to Lucas's estate near San Francisco.
Before going, Duke planned to shoot some footage in addition to presenting the script.
The film's primary scenes would take place in a car, so Duke naturally decided to shoot something car-related.
He found his 16mm camera in storage, bought some film using his credit card, and got the gardener who came weekly to cut the grass to act as the driver. They drove up and down the scenic Pacific Coast Highway in Santa Monica while Duke shot from both the passenger seat and outside the car. In half a day, he had most of what he needed.
After editing the footage and adding heavy metal music to the silent film, Duke transferred it to VHS tape just as an informal meeting regarding his script was quietly taking place in the Warner Bros. CEO's office.
"Kevin, I think *Speed* has potential," said Jeff Robinov, one of the executives Duke had met, offering his suggestion to the CEO, Kevin Tsujihara. "If we can capture the thrilling, fast-paced nature of the script, along with the life-or-death stakes..."
"Jeff..." Tsujihara raised a hand to stop him and looked toward his assistant, Robert Solomon. "Robert, what do you think?"
With considerable influence, Robert Solomon rested his arm on the chair, supporting his chin with his hand as he carefully considered his response. "There's something you should keep in mind. Duke Rosenberg used to be signed with CAA. He was dropped just this year. You know how CAA operates—they wouldn't drop someone unless they truly saw no potential."
"And..." He tapped the script on the desk, "Investing millions in a complete unknown's script, especially when he insists on directing—at twenty-one, with no experience—that's a huge risk."
As an executive vice president, Solomon's words carried more weight than Robinov's, and Robinov didn't push back. From a practical standpoint, the risks were too high.
"I see."
After several minutes of thought, Tsujihara finally spoke, "Let's shelve this script for now and put it in the archive."
Duke, who had just arrived at Lucas's estate, had no idea that he had narrowly missed an opportunity at Warner Bros., just from a brief executive discussion.
Parking his car, Duke greeted the familiar faces at the estate. Although he hadn't been here as much in recent years, he had practically grown up visiting before college.
Perhaps Lucas's children were away on a trip because the estate was unusually quiet. Duke passed by the fountain and entered the spacious living room, where George Lucas was waiting.
"Uncle George..."
After a polite greeting, Duke set his bag on the small table in front of him. As he sat down, Lucas smiled at him curiously. "Why aren't you calling me George anymore?"
Duke smiled but didn't respond. He knew that what worked when he was younger wouldn't work now.
"Call me George, like always."
The two families had been close for over twenty years, and after a servant brought them tea, Lucas didn't waste any time. He reached out. "The script you mentioned on the phone?"
"Here it is."
Duke handed over the less-than-200-page script, mentioning that he had recently been to many studios in Hollywood.
"I heard from some folks at CAA," Lucas said, opening the script. "The good-for-nothing son of Leah Rosenberg of Santa Fe Advertising, naively wants to be a director."
Duke's brow furrowed for a second but quickly relaxed.
After exchanging just a few words, Lucas fell silent, concentrating on reading the script. Despite meeting many people over the past month, it was the first time someone had read his script so earnestly in front of him—and it happened to be a family friend. It was ironic.
At the same time, it showed Duke how brutally realistic Hollywood could be. Without credentials, connections, or past success, you were just an overlooked nobody.
Hollywood would rather throw money at a known person's bad film than give a newcomer a chance.
Nearly an hour passed before Lucas put down the script. He took a sip of the now cold tea and asked, "Is there anything else?"
"There is."
Duke pulled out the VHS tape he had prepared. He walked to the TV, turned it on, and inserted the tape into the VCR. After a brief moment of static, the edited footage appeared, accompanied by heavy metal music.
The footage wasn't complex, mostly showing alternating shots of a car's front wheel and speedometer. But the fast-spinning wheel and the needle hovering above 50 miles per hour were carefully edited. Each shot lasted less than a second, creating a tight and tense atmosphere.
Even though the visuals were simple, Lucas watched intently. Naturally, he connected the footage with the movie's concept of a bomb exploding if the speed dropped below 50 miles per hour.
"Duke, come sit."
Lucas motioned for Duke to turn off the TV and take a seat across from him. "Dynamic camera work and sharp editing—this is well done."
"Uncle George..."
"George," Lucas corrected.
"Alright, George."
Once Duke sat down, Lucas switched to a more businesslike tone. "The script isn't particularly outstanding—at best, it's a solid commercial script. In Hollywood, good ideas can turn into bad movies, and bad ideas can become great ones. A director's role is crucial. If you give this script to an experienced director, there's a fifty percent chance it could turn a profit."
Hearing this, Duke smiled wryly. Lucas's meaning was clear.
"I've seen your budget estimates. Even if all the effects are handled by Industrial Light & Magic, the cost won't drop below ten million."
In an instant, Lucas switched from businessman to mentor. "For such a large investment, even Lucasfilm has to be cautious. Duke, you're still young. With more experience, you'll get your chance."
After that, Lucas didn't mention the film again. He shifted the conversation to Duke's mother, reminiscing about their early years working together. After dinner, he let Duke leave.
Not long after Duke's black Chevrolet disappeared through the estate gates, the phone in the living room rang.
"George, it's me," came the voice of Leah Rosenberg. "Did you meet with Duke?"
"Yes."
"There are some things about Duke I'd like to discuss with you. Should I come to San Francisco, or will you come to L.A.?"
"I'll come over."
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