A wave of elation filled me the moment I heard the verdict. The entire cast and crew of [Brick] and I leapt to our feet, applauding as our director, Rian Johnson, took the stage to accept his well-deserved win. Unlike the Oscars, at most film festivals, the award for best film is given to the director rather than the producer, so I stayed in the audience. I know I might be a bit biased here, but I genuinely believed [Brick] was the best-made film in the Sundance lineup that year.
"Oh my God," Rian began his speech after receiving the glass trophy. "I can't believe this is happening. Thank you so much to the jury for loving our film as much as they did. But before thanking them, I'd like to thank one person without whom this film would have been impossible to make. Two years ago, this all seemed like a distant dream, and no one believed in me or wanted to work with me. It was just my luck that I met an amazing person, and that's why we're here today." Rian looked directly at me, raising his trophy high. "Troy Armitage, this is all thanks to you."
He continued to thank other people, including our cast, crew, and his family, but I wasn't listening. The feeling I had in that moment was beyond words. It feels good to win an award, but it feels even better when someone else wins because of your efforts. This was one of the best feelings I'd had in a long time. Sure, this wasn't as prestigious as an Oscar, but an award is an award, and for an indie film, Sundance was one of the greatest forms of recognition.
"You okay, Troy?" Tobias asked when Rian finished his speech.
"Yeah," I smiled at him. "Why wouldn't I be?"
"You're unusually quiet, that's all," he remarked.
"It's nothing," I shook my head, steering the conversation elsewhere. "So, are you happy with our films' response?"
"Of course I am." He grinned at me. "How could I not be after that generous bonus you gave me?"
I nodded in acknowledgment. Tobias had poured his heart and soul into the production of both films, so it only felt right to share some of the rewards back with him. I'd given him, along with most of the crew, a little bonus. Besides Rian Johnson and Stephen Chbosky, Tobias had received the largest bonus of all, and he definitely deserved it. If I didn't compensate him fairly, it wouldn't take long before he jumped ship—he was simply too good at film production to let go.
"When is your sister's wedding?" I asked, remembering what he'd mentioned a few days ago.
"It's the same week as the release of [Perks], but I'll have to leave next week," he replied. "My parents aren't exactly responsible, so I'll be managing everything. I know you plan to start movie promotions soon, so I've arranged for a replacement assistant while I'm gone."
"Don't worry about it," I reassured him. "Take as long as you need." I hummed as a sudden, wild idea popped into my head—crazy, maybe, but now that it was there, I had to try it.
"I've got a great idea," I grinned.
Tobias didn't look too thrilled. "Why do I have a feeling I'm not going to like this?"
"Oh, you'll love it," I waved off his concern. "Or do you not want me to crash your sister's wedding?"
"You'd be a huge distraction," Tobias pointed out. "Everyone would be talking about you, not the bride." He paused, then added, "On second thought, Diana would probably love that. She hates being the center of attention. But I don't think you'll have the time. The wedding's in New York, and you'll be all over the world for the film promotions."
"I'll make it work," I assured him. "I'll make sure I'm doing the promotions in New York that day. Warner can definitely accommodate this small request for me."
Tobias tilted his head thoughtfully, then nodded. "Alright. You can come. So, what exactly is this genius idea of yours?"
I grinned, explaining my plan. To say he was surprised would be an understatement.
(Break)
Patty was bored. She'd finished her homework and had nothing to do, so she did what any sane person would: turned on the TV. After mindlessly surfing channels for a bit and finding nothing interesting, she was about to turn it off and go see her best friend Claire a few blocks away. Then something caught her eye—something she'd been waiting for a long time. Ever since she'd seen those leaked set photos of Troy and Emma kissing, she'd known she had to watch the film, no matter the reviews. Patty was a big Harry/Hermione fan, after all. With the way the series was going, it seemed unlikely they'd end up together, so she'd settle for the actors being together in a different movie, even if Harry and Hermione didn't.
Then, when the film premiered at the Sundance Film Festival, it received overwhelmingly positive reviews. On Rotten Tomatoes, it had a 93% positive rating with an average score of 8.2—higher even than the 85% that the festival winner [Brick] had received.
And now, the trailer for [The Perks of Being a Wallflower] was finally here. From start to finish, it was perfect.
Watching Troy transform from the confident Harry to the meek, soft-spoken Charlie was amazing. His voice, his walk, the way he looked at Emma—all of it seemed to say he was an entirely different person from Harry Potter. Then there was Emma. She might have been a bit young for the role, but she looked perfect in the trailer. Both Troy and Emma nailed the American accent, as far as she could tell.
The trailer gave Patty a sense of nostalgia, and she wasn't even that old. Little did she know, that was the film's magic—it evoked nostalgia and longing in everyone, even those who hadn't lived through that era.
When the trailer ended, the words "Releasing on 25th February 2005" appeared, followed by another screen announcing that all profits from the film would be donated to charity.
"Oh my God!" Patty shrieked. "That's tomorrow! How did I miss this trailer until now?"
Without wasting a second, she grabbed the phone and dialed her friend Claire.
"Hello?" Claire answered.
"Did you watch the trailer for Troy and Emma's new movie?" Patty asked without preamble.
"Of course I did," Claire replied immediately. "It's been out for a month already. Everyone at school was talking about it last week. Have you been living under a rock or something?"
"Ugh!" Patty groaned. "I can't believe my best friend didn't tell me about it. You know how much it means to me."
"I thought you knew," Claire said in a flat tone. "If a die-hard Potterhead like you didn't hear about it, they probably didn't promote it that much."
"You're right," Patty agreed. "Anyway, we're going to see it tomorrow."
"Of course, girl," Claire said right away. "Do you even have to ask?"
The next day dragged on for Patty. She just wanted to get through it so she could finally see her favorite on-screen couple together. Somehow, she persevered, and finally, it was time to go watch the film.
(Break)
That week was a busy one for movies. Major titles like Will Smith's [Hitch] and Keanu Reeves' [Constantine] had already been dominating the box office for weeks. Additionally, four new movies opened in theaters. First was [Cursed], a horror flick from the same creative team that made [Scream]. Then there was [Diary of a Mad Black Woman], featuring Tyler Perry cross-dressing as a woman for comedic effect. The third was [Man of the House], a family comedy. All three films had received scathing reviews, scoring less than 20% on Rotten Tomatoes.
Then there was the fourth release of the week: [The Perks of Being a Wallflower], which was already a critical darling. Critics almost unanimously praised it. With a star-studded cast that included Troy Armitage, Emma Watson, and even a cameo from Bruce Willis, it was bound to attract attention.
Though Warner Bros hadn't invested much in promoting the movie, one undeniable factor was Troy Armitage's loyal fan base. His fans had grown up with him, watching him in films like [Harry Potter]. Beyond that, he also had an older following who admired his performances in movies like [The Sixth Sense], [Billy Elliot], and [AI]—all of which were already considered classics with their dedicated cult following.
So it came as a shock to Patty when she found out she couldn't see the movie on its first day.
"What the hell!?" she exclaimed at the ticket counter. "I've waited so long for this movie, and now you're saying it's sold out?"
"I'm sorry, young lady," the middle-aged man offered her an apologetic smile. "I can get you a ticket for tomorrow if you'd like. Or maybe you could watch [Cursed]? It's a horror movie, and it's really good. You'll love it for sure."
Patty gave him a deadpan look. She was ready to argue further, but Claire, the more sensible one, stepped in front of her. "It's okay," she said to the older man. "What's available tomorrow for [Perks]?"
"Only the morning show," he replied. "Everything else is sold out. We're actually planning to add more showtimes for this film, but it seems like everyone else is trying to do the same, and we don't have enough prints. Maybe you could check another theater—though I doubt they have any seats left."
"Fine," Claire interrupted. "We'll take two for the morning show tomorrow."
"Good decision," he nodded, handing them their tickets.
"Aww, man!" Patty groaned as they walked away from the counter. "I wanted to see it so bad today!"
"It's just half a day," Claire reminded her impatiently. "Come on, let's go to McDonald's. I'm craving a burger."
(Break)
This wasn't an isolated case of fans unable to watch the film. Warner Bros had badly mishandled the release of [Perks]. The film had received minimal promotion, with only $12 million allocated to its marketing and distribution budget, $2 million of which went to printing costs. It opened on just 2,500 screens across North America—the lowest number stipulated by the contract Troy and Warner had signed. The huge demand took them by surprise, and they were unprepared to meet it.
"Are you sure about this?" Barry Meyer asked Alan Horn, Warner Bros.' COO.
"Very sure," Alan nodded. "Most theater chains and even small independent screens are calling our distribution office for more copies. And it's not just urban areas; even remote small-town theaters want to show [Perks] because it's all the rage with teenagers."
"The day isn't over yet," Barry noted. "Shouldn't we wait for first-day results before ordering more prints?"
Alan shook his head in frustration. "I told you we should've invested more in promotions. I knew we had a hit on our hands, but you wanted to save the budget for an Oscar campaign later in the year. We could've easily doubled our spending and easily recouped it through increased profits."
Barry fell silent. He'd held back on promoting [Perks] aggressively, partly due to Warner's three-picture deal with Troy, which included [Perks], [Brick], and an untitled musical. A major marketing budget was already committed to the musical, so he'd scaled back spending on the other two films. Warner had invested $25 million in acquiring the films; with another $25 million in marketing and distribution, they'd need to make over $120 million to see a profit—an ambitious target for such unique teen movies, even with Troy's star power. It was a decision Barry was now regretting.
"So?" Alan pressed again. "Should I order more prints?"
"Let's wait for the first-day numbers," Barry said decisively. "If we make over $2,000 per theater, that's $5 million on day one—then we'll order a thousand more prints and add $5 million to the promotion budget immediately. If it's less than that, no additional promotion, but we'll order 500 more prints for the theaters who are requesting it."
"Okay," Alan agreed. Barry's strategy was sound, and as the mastermind behind one of the industry's biggest studios, his instincts were rarely off.
That night, Alan stayed up past midnight, as he often did on a movie's opening night. Though he hadn't been directly involved in the production of [Perks], he knew how crucial this film could be for the studio. Troy was a remarkable actor and an emerging producer with two successful films under his belt, and he was on the verge of starting production on his third. Maintaining strong relationships with talents like Troy was essential if Warner wanted to ensure loyalty—and prevent him from moving to another studio.
Just as that thought crossed his mind, his landline rang, and he picked up immediately. "Yes?" he spoke clearly.
"The numbers are in," said Alan's assistant, excitement evident in his voice. "[Perks] debuted at number one with $9.5 million today."
"Holy shit!" Alan exclaimed, a wide grin spreading across his face. This was even better than anticipated. With 2,500 screens, the film had brought in an average of $3,800 per theater—nearly double Barry's threshold for boosting distribution and marketing.
"Go ahead with the increased marketing and distribution plan," Alan instructed his assistant before hanging up.
A smile lingered on Alan's face as he finally went to bed. Troy Armitage was one lucky son of a bitch, and Alan was now more certain than ever that Warner should do everything possible to build a long-lasting relationship with the teen. He was one of those once-in-a-lifetime types of superstars who had already left a mark on the history of cinema at such a young age. Only God knows what he would have achieved by the time he is old and wrinkly.
_____________________________________
AN: Visit my Pat reon to read ahead, or participate in free polls about the story.
Link: www(dot)pat reon(dot)com/fableweaver
If you liked it, throw some stones at me.
If you loved it and can't wait for more, become a patron.
Patreon.com/fableweaver