CAA's Full Support

A killer with beliefs, one who taught people to cherish their own lives—such a character had never appeared in film history before.

Based on Dawson's thirty years of experience, as long as the director was not too incompetent, this film would never be a bad one.

Of course, whether it would perform well at the box office was another question.

After all, no one knew whether audiences would like a character like this.

But judging from his own experience, Dawson felt this was worth a gamble.

If he lost, he would leave CAA and find work elsewhere.

That suited him just fine. In his thirties, he had no intention of remaining a bottom-tier agent here. What he wanted was to become one of the company's five partners.

If it succeeded, he would have that chance.

If it failed, he would simply start over somewhere else.

Watching Dawson's expression, the calm Kevin knew that the proposal and script had already moved him.

All that remained was to wait.

Wait for his agent, Dawson, to find a suitable investor for the proposal.

Before that, however, he needed to visit the Writers Guild and the Directors Guild to file the script with the Writers Guild and register it with the Directors Guild.

Both were essential. They would guard against plagiarism while keeping the rights to Saw firmly in his own hands.

He knew better than anyone what it meant that Saw would go on to produce eight or nine films in the future.

For the sake of future profits, he could give up a portion of the immediate benefits in exchange for control of those rights.

He was confident that he could earn back several times his initial losses through those rights.

"Dawson, do you think this proposal of mine is feasible?" Kevin asked calmly.

"Of course. You're the genius director I value most." Dawson did not stint on his praise. In his eyes, the talented director Kevin had finally earned his genuine admiration.

Now, their fates were tied together.

If it succeeded, they would both succeed.

If it failed, they would both fall into the abyss.

In truth, though, the consequences would be even more severe for Kevin.

So neither of them could afford to lose this battle.

"Next, I'll look for people interested in your proposal. On your end, you need to make preparations for filming in advance."

"Our future depends on whether your film succeeds." Kevin stood and shook Dawson's hand. There was no need for further words. This project represented both of their futures, and neither would slack off over it.

Early the next morning, Dawson arrived at the conference room with the project proposal in hand.

Unlike other companies, every CAA agent was effectively a partner in the company. Through a complex compensation structure, it had formed a unique system that strongly encouraged the company's growth.

Each star and each client was usually assigned an agent team.

Naturally, the core of that team was generally the agent the client trusted most.

Dawson also served multiple clients, but because he had no major clients of his own, his standing within the company had never risen.

Still, his income was not low.

After all, he was part of several teams at once, and he received commissions from every one of them.

That was the advantage of CAA's internal compensation system. If you were capable enough, you could still make money even without a core client.

What Dawson needed now, however, was status.

In the conference room, dozens of agents who had not yet gone out sat in their chairs, discussing the day's agenda.

Michael Ovitz was one of the company's five partners and, publicly, the partner with the greatest authority.

He looked like a typical middle-aged white man, wearing oval glasses. The occasional sharp glint in his eyes showed that he was no ordinary man.

And indeed, he was not.

CAA had been founded in 1975. After more than a decade of development, it had become a giant in Hollywood.

It held countless entertainment industry resources in its hands.

Watching the discussion below, Michael Ovitz tapped the table, producing a sharp sound.

The others quickly fell silent.

Only then did Michael Ovitz begin to speak:

"Although CAA has become the most powerful talent agency in Hollywood, we still have major shortcomings."

"If we want those Hollywood giant film companies to accept CAA's package deals, we need more good directors—directors who can make film studios money."

"Only then can we force those giants to compromise, give up more profits, and allow us and our clients to earn more money."

After finishing his remarks on the company's development, he finally got to the point.

"Have any of you signed any promising director clients recently?"

As Michael Ovitz spoke, several agents began recounting their own gains.

Seeing his chance, Dawson stepped forward and handed the proposal in his hand to Michael Ovitz, speaking respectfully.

"This is the film project proposal of Steve Kevin, a genius director from Southern California University whom I signed. It includes a horror film script, a series of plans, and the required budget..."

"The current problem is a lack of funding. I hope CAA can use its resources to push this project forward."

"Oh?"

"A genius director from Southern California University?"

Dawson's words piqued his interest slightly. Looking at the thick proposal in his hands, Ovitz opened it with mild curiosity.

The neatly formatted script and well-organized proposal immediately left a favorable impression on him.

Most new directors could not even put together a proposal like this.

Of course, this was not really a director's job. It fell within a producer's responsibilities.

Still, seeing such a complete proposal from a new director was enough to show that this newcomer had come prepared, rather than merely seeking to trick investors out of their money.

With that in mind, Ovitz focused and began reading the script.

Very quickly, Jigsaw, an antagonist with convictions of his own, caught his attention, and he soon recognized its potential.

The script—the story—was the foundation of a screenplay.

A director was someone who used the camera to tell that story well.

Judging from this proposal, there was at least no problem with the script. What they needed to do was find an experienced assistant director to help Kevin avoid making too many mistakes.

At the same time, they needed to assign a producer who could control the budget and use funding limits to rein in the director's wild ideas.