Capítulo 29: Chapter 29: Superstar
The black Ford sedan headed north, passing through Burbank, known as the world media capital, and gradually approaching the northern part of the Los Angeles basin. Here lies a valley that has been urbanized, famous like satellite cities such as Burbank, it is the future globally renowned San Fernando Valley.
Although it was only the early 2000s, the adult industry in the San Fernando Valley had developed over many years, reaching significant proportions.
As they entered the valley, Murphy slightly slowed down, turning into Coldwater Canyon between Burbank Boulevard and Oxnard Street. He and Jessica glanced frequently at both sides.
On the walls along the road, there was a 2754-foot-long mural, considered one of the world's longest.
However, Murphy didn't stop to admire it. Instead, he turned at the next intersection onto Ventura Boulevard, driving straight towards the northern edge of the San Fernando Valley.
Murphy insisted on a filming location away from the hustle and bustle of downtown. A man with secrets to keep couldn't live in a busy area.
Such houses weren't hard to find in Los Angeles, but affordable ones were scarce. So, when Jessica contacted Murphy about this property far from downtown, he immediately made the trip.
"The realtor said the house is often used for filming..." Jessica briefed Murphy as she flipped through the materials sent by the real estate agent yesterday. "Because it's regularly rented for shoots, the owner has made specific modifications, including reserved camera positions throughout the house. It's also very secluded, with no other residents nearby for almost a thousand feet, which suits filming needs."
Murphy glanced at Jessica in the passenger seat. "Sounds good."
Jessica, though lacking social experience, had some capabilities. However, she hadn't asked what movies or TV shows had been filmed in this house.
But Murphy made some inquiries over the phone. This property had been mainly used for producing specialty films in the San Fernando Valley.
"Oh, by the way," Jessica remembered something, "there's another film crew currently shooting there."
"What?" Murphy frowned. "Why didn't you mention it earlier? Can we still go in?"
Jessica felt a bit uneasy at his tone of questioning but explained, "The realtor has already contacted the film crew. They've allowed us access as long as we don't disrupt the shoot."
Murphy nodded without saying more, just driving northward.
Glancing at him, Jessica's curiosity resurfaced. How had this guy, who had been broke just months ago, suddenly come up with $300,000 for a film shoot?
She had worked for him, feeling somewhat inferior despite her education and skills. But now, seeing him directing a film, she felt a mix of sadness and resignation, yet the chance to be involved in a movie was tempting.
"If you want to get the girl's photos ready?" Murphy asked Jessica, breaking her thoughts.
"It's mostly done," Jessica breathed a sigh of relief. "I've collected photos of twelve girls, and Robert the lawyer has signed authorization agreements with their guardians for their use in the film."
Turning the steering wheel, Murphy nodded. It was an expense, but without authorization, it could lead to trouble later.
Thinking about the expenditures for the crew's salaries, rent, and authorization fees, which had already amounted to tens of thousands of dollars, Murphy furrowed his brow.
Thankfully, as per the agreement, apart from the upfront payment of about a third of the personnel's salaries, the rest could wait until filming began or ended. This would allow him to keep the remaining funds in his bank account a bit longer.
Typically, in Hollywood, crews often waited until after a film's release in North America to receive the final third of their pay. But no one would be foolish enough to sign such a contract with Murphy. Those people were not fools; they knew that most films shot might not even make it to theaters.
Hollywood produced over a thousand films each year, but only about a third made it to theaters. Among those, many were only in theaters for a week or even just a weekend.
"Jessica..." Murphy turned to her again, "You studied drama at Juilliard, right?"
"Yes," Jessica nodded, feeling a bit apprehensive.
"So, you must have some acting experience."
Seeing Jessica's tacit agreement, Murphy lightly tapped the steering wheel. "Great, Jessica, I've prepared a role for you in the crew."
A role? Especially prepared? Jessica wasn't naive; she had read the script and immediately guessed her role: probably just a one-scene neighbor.
She tentatively asked, "What about compensation?"
"Compensation?" Murphy looked surprised. "Does the crew's behind-the-scenes personnel need compensation for a cameo in the film? We're a team!"
Hearing this, Jessica kept her mouth shut but couldn't help muttering inwardly, "I knew it, I knew it. This miser wants to squeeze every bit of value out of everyone!"
Encountering such a boss, she felt both sad and helpless, but the chance to be involved in a movie was like a carrot on a stick, tempting her to continue.
If he had a budget of tens of millions of dollars, Murphy wouldn't do this. But with only $300,000, there were too many expenses for the crew. If he didn't carefully manage the budget, even investing all the money might not complete the project.
Large projects had their own plans, and small projects had their own survival rules.
With more trees lining the road and the surroundings growing quieter, except for the Ford's engine noise, no other sounds could be heard. After about five minutes of driving, a typical American suburban community came into view.
The community wasn't large. From a distance, over twenty houses were scattered neatly beneath a small hill. Probably by design, all the houses were spaced far apart, with the ones at the edge being over a thousand feet apart. One of them was the property Murphy was inspecting on this trip.
The black Ford sedan stopped near a gray bungalow. Murphy got out of the car, first scanning the surroundings. The environment here was excellent, with a small forest behind the house, an open front yard garden, and in the distance, a serene lake could be seen.
Quiet, secluded, far from other residents—these external conditions met his requirements.
On the other side, Jessica had already pulled out her phone and dialed the realtor's number. After a brief half-minute, a Latin man in his thirties pushed open the bungalow's front door and walked out.
"Hello, Miss Chastain," he greeted Jessica first, then quickly approached Murphy, extending his right hand warmly. "Nice to meet you, Mr. Stanton. You're the youngest director I've ever met."
Murphy shook his hand. "Nice to meet you too, Mr. Wayne."
After some small talk, the real estate agent Wayne led the way. "Let's take a look outside first, and I'll give you an overview."
Following Wayne along the perimeter of the house, Murphy inspected while Wayne did his usual sales pitch. "This house was built in 1995, brick and stone structure. The original owner was a senior executive of an adult film company and considered potential filming during construction. It's deliberately secluded, with reserved camera spots inside the house..."
After circling around, Murphy was generally satisfied.
"Mr. Stanton," Wayne asked, concerned, once they returned to the front of the house
, "do you know when your crew will start filming?"
"At the earliest, next month, but not past the 10th," Murphy replied.
"The 10th of October," Wayne checked his notebook briefly, "The current crew should be finished by then, and there are two more crews scheduled after. It should be available by the end of the month, just in time."
He then inquired, "How long do you need for filming?"
"At least a month," Murphy gave the most optimistic estimate.
Wayne checked the time. "They should have finished a scene inside by now; it's probably time for a break. Let's go in."
He walked over and opened the door, gesturing for them to enter. Once Murphy and Jessica went in, he closed the door and followed them inside.
Passing through the foyer, they entered a massive living room with various equipment like screens, lights, and cameras set up. A sturdy man wearing a baseball cap was directing the crew's setup, seemingly the director of this crew.
Sitting on the long sofa in the living room was a heavily made-up blonde woman, with a makeup artist touching her up.
As they entered, the blonde woman happened to look their way, and Murphy got a clear view of her face. She looked familiar—a superstar, if he wasn't mistaken.
Though the blonde woman appeared to be wearing nothing under the blanket she had draped over her, Murphy didn't linger. Instead, he followed Wayne to inspect the property.
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