Anson finally understood, eyeing Edgar with a half-smile. "No wonder you seemed envious when we were talking about Jim Carrey's agent earlier."
Edgar noticed the teasing look in Anson's eyes but didn't mind at all, responding with complete candor, "Envious? Of course. Agents live for moments like this—no negotiations, no second chances. Either you take it or leave it. Once you take the deal, a 10% cut means two million dollars for the agent."
"God, if that's the price of being hated by all of Hollywood, I wouldn't mind going to hell."
"Haha, hahahaha."
Anson burst into laughter, genuinely feeling Edgar's sincerity.
Edgar couldn't help but chuckle lightly himself.
"But that's just a joke."
"Jim Carrey doesn't mind living that kind of life—complaining endlessly about never being recognized by the Academy as if he's the real victim, while comfortably sitting in the 20-million-dollar club, completely oblivious to the real issue. But I do mind."
"That's not the career path I've envisioned for you, and it's not how I see my career as an agent, either."
Anson raised an eyebrow, slightly surprised, looking at Edgar with interest.
Since the topic had come up, Edgar continued discussing it.
"At the moment, the 20-million-dollar club represents the top of Hollywood's pyramid. From 1996 until now, it's only been about six years, and there are only a handful of members."
"But the studios have already started to become wary, and it's not just because of Jim Carrey."
"When Julia Roberts was filming Notting Hill, there were tensions with the production team. The root of the issue was the director and writer repeatedly trying to convince her to lower her salary, but Julia's side refused with no room for negotiation. Fifteen million dollars was fifteen million dollars, leaving the production team in an awkward position."
"The total budget for the entire movie was only 40 million dollars."
"Of course, in the end, they worked it out, and Julia got her 15-million-dollar paycheck. The writer even wrote a line in the script in revenge, where someone asks how much her last movie made, and she replies 'Fifteen million dollars.'"
"When the movie was released, that line stayed in. I heard Julia hasn't watched the movie to this day."
Behind the scenes, the conflicts and disagreements within film production teams are always far more dramatic than one might imagine.
Anson raised an eyebrow. "But Notting Hill was a huge box-office success."
Edgar nodded. "So the conflict became nothing more than an amusing anecdote."
But if the movie had bombed, that conflict could have been the spark that ignited a full-blown fallout.
Things are always that simple.
Edgar continued, "Don't get me wrong—I'm on the actor's side. I want my actors to get paid more, and I support them in fighting for better pay."
"But here's the thing: studios are starting to get cautious."
"The involvement of a 20-million-dollar club member automatically means higher production costs. And with that comes more pressure for box-office success."
"I don't care about the studio's profit margins—they don't need me worrying about that. But the problem is that the studios pass that pressure onto the actors. They won't just swallow those risks."
"First, they'll shift all the box-office pressure onto the 20-million-dollar club members. If the movie fails, it's the actor's fault."
"Come on, we're not kids. We all know a movie's success or failure isn't that simple."
"Second, they become even harsher, sometimes even punishing, to those who haven't made it into the 20-million-dollar club yet. The jump from 10 million to 15 million dollars becomes an impossible gap to bridge, let alone moving up to the next level."
"Right now, all the studios are watching us because we're the closest to joining the 20-million-dollar club. They're both holding us back and keeping an eye on us."
Anson nodded slightly, understanding. "So that's why you brought the Day After Tomorrow project to the table."
Edgar spread his hands. "If 20th Century Fox is willing to pay, I'm more than happy to take it. That makes things simple."
Anson couldn't help but ask, "But you didn't keep pushing me to take that project."
Edgar replied, "Jim Carrey is the example. Salary is important. It's really, really, really important…" His repetition made both Anson and Edgar laugh. "But it's not the only thing that matters. We need to keep the long-term in mind. If you don't like the project, we shouldn't force it."
"Anson, we're working so hard to climb to the top of the pyramid to gain more control, right?"
Anson nodded softly. "I thought it was to make a name in history, but your explanation is also correct."
Clearly, he was joking.
Edgar smiled and continued.
"Of course, the most important reason is that even if we get into the 20-million-dollar club, I don't see it as a sustainable long-term strategy."
"The studios are under increasing pressure, and they won't be merciful. They'll find ways to shift that pressure and risk elsewhere."
"So, I don't think the 20-million-dollar club is the pinnacle of Hollywood, nor do I believe it's the direction actors should be aiming for."
His words landed like a bombshell—
In 2003, Edgar's statement was absolutely shocking. If word got out, it would shake Hollywood to its core.
However, to Anson, it showcased Edgar's foresight.
Because Edgar was right.
Hollywood was beginning to realize that relying solely on the "star effect" was driving production costs higher, squeezing studio profits. It could even evolve into a situation where studios were working just to make actors rich, something they absolutely couldn't accept.
So, starting in 2008, with the rise of Iron Man as a turning point, studios began shifting towards a "franchise effect," aiming to reduce their dependence on top-tier actors and regain control.
And they succeeded. Led by Disney, Warner Bros., and Sony-Columbia, the major franchise holders completely transformed the film industry for the next 15 years, with studios firmly in control.
But by 2023, the decline of superhero films had created another turning point. The battle between top actors and studios was reigniting, entering a new phase.
In 2003, though, Edgar had already sensed something unusual, showcasing his wisdom and foresight.
Still, that wasn't the most impressive thing—
There were plenty of smart people in Hollywood, and surely more than a few industry bigwigs had already noticed the studios' pushback against the 20-million-dollar club.
What really mattered was predicting the upcoming trends and preparing strategies to respond.
Anson looked up at Edgar and saw a flicker of uncertainty in his eyes, as if Edgar was nervously waiting for a reaction. He hadn't hidden his surprise. "What's wrong?"
Edgar faltered. He'd just dropped a bombshell of an idea, and this was Anson's reaction? Just this?