Cigar club in Boston's Back Bay.
The heavy soundproof door completely shut out the noise from outside, and the air was filled with the rich aroma of Cuba cigars mixed with expensive single cask whisky.
Lin Qi leaned back on the leather sofa, swirling the wine in his glass. Sitting opposite him were Matt Damon, Ben Affleck, and Mark Wahlberg.
Rewind a few years, when Lin Qi first met these three guys, they were just outsiders in Hollywood.
But now, these three guys are all incredibly popular actors earning tens of millions of dollars per film.
"So, David Stern gave you a year-long vacation, and you want to come and cause trouble in Hollywood?" Ben Affleck, cigar in mouth, casually propped his legs up on the coffee table. "Guys, did you hear that? Mr. Lin is going to make a movie about the rise of the Boston Celtics. What, you want me to play you? Although I'm tall and handsome, I can't portray your cunning and treacherous nature."
"Don't flatter yourself, Ben," Lin Qi chuckled, taking a sip of whiskey. "I don't even have a script right now, just an outline. But if it's actually made, you guys will definitely have a lot of screen time. Natalie ( Portman ) could also have a role if she could come."
"Wait, you're going to make a movie about how we helped you drive Gaston away?" Matt Damon frowned sharply. "Lin, are you sure? You really want to bring the whole thing—how we colluded with you from the inside, used the media to corner Gaston —to the big screen? Legally, that's a gray area. Aren't you afraid the regulatory agencies will come after you if you make a film about it?"
"The real events and the story on the big screen will be two different narratives, Matt," Lin Qi explained calmly, setting down his glass. "In the movie's narrative, you were driven by pure righteous indignation. You were passionate young men who grew up watching the Boston Celtics, and to prevent the team from being destroyed by a vampire owner, you stood up, mobilized the entire city's fans, and formed a local consortium with sheer courage. At the most crucial moment, you slammed the buyout contract right in Gaston's face, saving the city's faith."
"The public doesn't need to know the truth; they just need a story that will get them standing ovations in the theater. As long as the film is widely disseminated, it will become an 'official history' of Boston that will be remembered forever."
Matt Damon tapped the table thoughtfully with the finger holding his cigar. As a screenwriter-turned-filmmaker, he immediately understood Lin Qi's intention.
"Lin, that's a pretty shrewd PR move," Damon said, looking at him. " David Stern has suspended you now, and the entire league's media is scrutinizing you for dirt. If you write an autobiography or have reporters publish articles to clarify things, nobody will read them; everyone will just think you're making excuses. But movies are different. A two-hour movie has a beginning, development, climax, and resolution; it has villains and the protagonist's struggles. As long as the box office is high enough, when the audience leaves the theater, all they'll remember is the story you told them."
"Five years from now, ten years from now, few people will delve into the specific details; everyone will only remember the footage of us saving the team on the big screen. You're using Hollywood to redefine history."
Lin Qi didn't deny it, nodding frankly. "It's a win-win situation. I get the right to define the team's official history, and you get a highlight moment on screen where you can vent your anger back home."
"Ha!" Mark Wahlberg instantly perked up, slapping his thigh. "That's great! Back in the day, there were guys in South Boston pubs who wanted to beat up Gaston every day. Even if it clashes with my schedule, I'll take time off and come. Count me in!"
Ben Affleck chimed in, "What do we need to prepare? Or can we just wear our old jackets from watching games? Forget about pay, you helped us back then, this time it's zero pay, we're available anytime!"
Seeing his excited old friends, Lin Qi smiled and leaned back in his chair.
In fact, in his grand vision, this would be a trilogy.
The first film's outline begins in 1994 when he takes over the team. It starts with that bet, then moves on to the controversial draft pick of high schooler Kevin Garnett. Next comes signing Mutombo, followed by the costly trade for the foul-mouthed Gary Payton. The biggest dramatic conflict in the latter half is when owner Gaston brings in the disruptive college coach Rick Pitino, who wreaks havoc on the team. Ultimately, the protagonist and Matt Damon's team stage a comeback, complete the acquisition, and lift the championship trophy in the brutally shortened 1999 season, marking the climax of the first film.
But Lin Qi doesn't need to reveal such a massive plan all at once.
"However, Lin," Matt Damon calmed down and pointed out the problem with the actual filming, "If you want to seize narrative control with this film, it absolutely cannot be a simple sports thriller. It has to be a film with a political thriller and business drama feel. You need a top-notch screenwriter who can write those complex team affairs in an interesting way."
"Do you have any recommendations?" Lin Qi asked Damon.
" Aaron Sorkin," Damon solemnly named, "That Emmy Awards- sweeping ' The West Wing ' is his work. His dialogue is incredibly fast-paced and packed with information. Only he in Hollywood can convey that kind of aggressive, oppressive feeling about you."
Three days later. A private coffee shop in Beverly Hills, Los Angeles.
Lin Qi met Aaron Sorkin, who was frantically rushing to finish his script.
"Mr. Lin Qi, Matt told me why you're here, but I must confess, I have absolutely no interest in sports topics." Sorkin sipped his black coffee, speaking rapidly with the arrogance typical of intellectuals. "A bunch of testosterone-fueled burly men throwing a basketball into a hoop—there's no dramatic depth in that for me to ponder. You've come to the wrong person."
He has no shortage of money, nor does he lack offers from major film studios.
Lin Qi didn't rush to defend himself. He leaned back in his chair and asked in return, " Sorkin, what do you think it takes to run a professional team worth hundreds of millions of dollars? Is it the coach shouting slogans at the top of his lungs in the locker room?"
Sorkin didn't respond, waiting for him to continue.
"A group of older white men in bespoke suits, smoking cigars, sat in a private room, deciding on a multi-million dollar contract based on decades of subjective experience and intuition. They were arrogant, closed-minded, and resistant to any new or outside ideas."
Lin Qi placed his hands on the table and casually revealed the core concept of the film.
This isn't a movie about how a group of people shoot a ball into a basketball hoop.
"This is about an intruder who, armed with a bunch of dry data tables and formulas, barged into this closed circle. He told those in power that their intuition was completely wrong, and that the average points per game in the newspapers were deceiving them. Then, using this algorithm that no one understood, he picked out discarded players from the garbage heap, and sold these star players, whom he considered treasures, to general managers of other teams at high prices."
"This is a story about how to change a major league and fight against the times. The protagonist has prophetic intuition, but he has to be at odds with everyone. It's also a story about using every means possible to ultimately seize supreme power."
Sorkin's hand, which was holding the coffee cup, froze in mid-air.
"Go on." Sorkin put the coffee cup back on the table, took a voice recorder from his pocket, and pressed the record button. "Tell me, how did you get to where you are today, and accomplish those impossible things?"