I Want This Script

The next day, Aaron had someone find a detached two-story apartment near Plummer Park in West Hollywood and moved out of Koreatown. Now that he was wealthy with a hundred thousand dollars in hand, he needed to live somewhere that gave him peace of mind!

It had two bedrooms, two living rooms, a study, and three bathrooms. Aaron was quite satisfied.

At the end of the month, Steven Soderbergh came to CAA to sign his contract. Aaron was naturally his lead agent, and he had specifically brought Jack Wells in as well.

"It feels like a dream," Steven Soderbergh said in the office, his face full of disbelief. He had never imagined that Sex, Lies, and Videotape could sell for the high price of 1.2 million dollars.

Aaron leaned back in his chair. Since this was Steven Soderbergh's first time signing with an agency, according to the California Talent Agencies Act:

An artist's first contract with an agent was valid for one year, and subsequent renewal terms could last up to three years!

They were both newcomers. Most people chose to renew after the first contract, and later renewals were usually signed for two years at a time.

Aaron toyed with the huge mobile phone in his hand and looked at Steven Soderbergh. "Miramax called. They need your input on the film's recut;

"Next, we need to cooperate with Miramax for the Cannes submission!"

Steven Soderbergh nodded. "That won't be a problem. I just wonder when Miramax plans to release the film?"

"Don't worry. Harvey paid 1.2 million dollars for this film, which means he thinks highly of it too. There's nothing to worry about;

"We'll know the outcome after the Cannes Film Festival in May!"

Aaron stretched as he spoke. "Do you have any new plans?"

"How could it be that fast? My first feature hasn't even been released yet."

"True enough. You can take a vacation. Just call me if anything comes up," Aaron said. He was not going to wait on anyone like a nanny, not even Sylvester Stallone or Tom Cruise.

That afternoon, several furious roars came from CAA president Ronald Meyer's office.

Michael Ovitz sat in his own office, frowning as he asked his assistant, "Why is Ronald so angry?"

"After Judy Hofflund and David Greenblatt left CAA, they founded ITA, United Talent Agency!" office assistant Susan Miller explained.

Michael Ovitz nodded. Judy Hofflund and David Greenblatt had both previously been Ronald Meyer's assistants. Their betrayal of CAA was indeed infuriating;

CAA had always been the one poaching from others. This time, someone had left CAA and taken several young agents and their clients with them.

"Mr. Meyer has organized a group specifically to target ITA!"

How would they target them? By smearing and suppressing their company, poaching ITA's clients, and engaging in unfair competition.

Michael Ovitz nodded, fully approving of his old friend's approach. It would have been even better if his old friend did not like gambling!

In CAA's ownership structure, Michael Ovitz held 55 percent as the majority shareholder, while Ronald Meyer held 22.5 percent, with the remainder belonging to others.

That night, in West Hollywood, Aaron sat in a chair in his study. On the desk were the two major package films CAA was working on that year:

One was Dick Tracy, a major detective film adapted from the bestselling American comic book of the same name, directed by and starring Warren Beatty;

The other was Goodfellas, directed by Martin Scorsese and adapted from the life of the legendary American gangster Henry Hill!

CAA package films naturally relied on stacking the cast with stars. Clearly, both films would be packed with big names.

Dick Tracy was a Touchstone Pictures production under Disney, while Goodfellas was a Warner Bros. production. Both were gangster films;

At present, gangster films and action films held no lowly position in Hollywood.

Afterward, Aaron took out another four- or five-page script outline: Ghost, adapted by screenwriter Bruce Joel Rubin!

After searching for so long, Aaron had finally unearthed an incredible script. Unfortunately, no one at CAA had shown any interest in it?

Michael Ovitz had no thoughts about this script. A love story about a ghost? He dismissed it with contempt!

"Being an agent?" Aaron laughed. How much could an agent possibly earn?

Aaron Anderson currently viewed his job at CAA only as a platform for expanding his network;

At the same time, Aaron Anderson needed to raise his own profile as soon as possible!

It was awards season, especially with the Oscar ceremony being held in late March, and Los Angeles was exceptionally lively;

Countless celebrity parties and film receptions were being held at hotels all across Hollywood.

Although Ghost had received no attention from CAA, Aaron regarded it as a treasure and went straight to the original screenwriter, Bruce Robin!

A café on Hollywood Boulevard.

"What? You want to buy this script?" Bruce Robin looked astonished. "I know you—the agent who helped Steven Soderbergh sell Sex, Lies, and Videotape."

Aaron Anderson simply wanted to get the script into his own hands, and he spoke directly. "CAA may not value this script, but I like it very much. Ghost is an original screenplay, and I'll offer you 150,000 dollars for it;

"And within three years, I will definitely develop this script!"

Bruce Robin nodded. "The price is quite reasonable. So, you want to purchase the rights for three years first?"

"Correct. A 40,000-dollar deposit. If I can't develop it by the deadline, you can take the script back in full!"

Bruce Robin smiled. "You seem very confident that you can develop it within three years, but it looks like you don't have many clients right now?"

Aaron took a sip of coffee. "I don't have much time to wait on all those clients!"

"Looks like you've got your heart set on transitioning into a producer," Bruce Robin said. He assumed the other man had wanted to develop this film at CAA but had received no support, which had led to this idea.

"So, do you agree?" Aaron wanted this script no matter what. Once an opportunity arose, he would leave CAA and develop it himself.

"Of course. But I have conditions of my own. When the script is developed, I also want to be involved," Bruce Robin explained.

Aaron nodded. "Of course. You're the original screenwriter. When it comes time for revisions, we certainly won't be able to do without you!"

And so, the two went to a law firm and signed a purchase agreement. Aaron Anderson paid 150,000 dollars to acquire the Ghost script;

The term was three years, with a 40,000-dollar deposit. When the time came, both parties could negotiate an extension, or the other party could take back the script without returning the deposit.

"How about I introduce you to an agent?"

After signing the contract, Aaron suddenly made the suggestion to Bruce Robin beside him.

It could not be helped. Bruce Robin was also a new screenwriter—how could he have an agent?

"Uh, you don't want to be my agent?"

Aaron shrugged. "Do you think I'd be suitable?"

"All right, you really wouldn't be suitable..."

Antitrust law. An agent could not participate in film production, and Aaron's career as an agent had entered its countdown from the very beginning!