Chapter 56: One Star a Year
Outside the hotel, Aaron ran into Julia Roberts and her boyfriend Kiefer Sutherland facing a swarm of reporters.
"Last year it was Meg Ryan, this year it's Julia Roberts—overnight sensations every time," someone commented.
Aaron smiled, draping an arm around Nicole Kidman. "Next year, it'll be you."
Nicole shook her head. "Not likely. I'm not American—having one blockbuster doesn't give me the kind of influence they have. And besides, I'll never be called Hollywood's sweetheart."
"Let's head back," Aaron said, realizing Nicole's mind was perfectly clear.
With the Ghost crew assembled, financial auditors from the First Boston branch of Credit Suisse arrived to oversee the $12 million in funding. Edward Zwick invited producers he had previously worked with to join, and rehearsals for Ghost were scheduled at Sony's Culver City studio.
Screenwriters Bruce Robinson and David Fincher were also hired as producers to assist Aaron.
"David, no studios or producers have approached you to direct a film?" Aaron asked in his office.
Fincher shook his head. "No concrete scripts, and I want to wait until your Ghost is completed before I make a decision."
Aaron smiled and patted him on the shoulder. "Phone Booth was a hit. Your future's unlimited."
By mid-May, Phone Booth had reached a domestic box office of $34 million. Dawnlight Films received the final $600,000 from 20th Century Fox.
Because David Fincher and Nicolas Cage were both paid modestly but delivered stellar performances, Aaron rewarded each of them with an additional $400,000 bonus.
At Sony Studios, watching rehearsals, Aaron and Zwick observed:
"The actress playing the medium, Kathy Bates, is incredible!"
Though the medium was originally envisioned as a Black character, casting was now merit-based.
Zwick smiled. "She spent twenty years in theater, won a Tony for Best Actress, and recently starred in Rob Reiner's Misery—the Stephen King adaptation."
"When she auditioned, I knew immediately she was perfect," Zwick added.
Rob Reiner, co-founder of Castle Rock Entertainment, directed When Harry Met Sally… and was a devoted Stephen King fan—the studio's name even comes from one of King's stories.
With the 1990 Cannes Film Festival opening, Nicole Kidman, after two weeks of rehearsals, would accompany the Wild at Heart crew to promote the film.
That night, in Aaron's West Hollywood apartment, Nicole held him close. "You're really not going to Cannes?"
"I'm too lazy. I'm not an agent, I have no films in competition, and I don't need to buy films for distribution," Aaron said, exhaling and rolling off her.
Meanwhile, Disney's over-the-top comic adaptation Dick Tracy was plastered on billboards across the U.S. Warren Beatty had definitely been crossed, and Aaron worried the veteran might try to sabotage him behind the scenes.
Excluding the $20 million for Ghost, Dawnlight Films still had $5 million in cash to utilize.
"All right," Nicole reminded, "it's not just Wild at Heart in Cannes—Giuseppe Tornatore's A Journey Home is also in the competition."
"I know. If Tornatore ever needs a collaborator, I'd be happy to work with him," Aaron replied.
The summer blockbuster season was Hollywood's most competitive. This year featured sequels Another 48 Hours, Die Hard 2, and Back to the Future Part III. Newspapers even complained that there were too many sequels.
In the future, releasing even three non-remake, non-sequel blockbusters in one summer would be a feat—original films carried far higher risk than sequels or remakes.
Hollywood, inside the Viper House rock bar on Sunset Boulevard.
Jack Wells clinked his beer against Aaron Anderson's. "I checked around. Right now, Warren Beatty and Dustin Hoffman are busy promoting Dick Tracy. They won't have time to target us."
Aaron nodded. "The production budget for that movie is $47 million. Add marketing costs, and it's way more than Pretty Woman spent. If it flops… plus Beatty's recent scandal… he might retire for real this time."
Jack chuckled. "By the way, what happened to that Ari Emanuel?"
Aaron raised an eyebrow.
Jack leaned in. "The three Black guys got a bit rough—stabbed him twice during the robbery. I think one kidney got damaged. He's already left Los Angeles and gone back home to Chicago."
Aaron's expression flickered. It was hard to tell if he felt pity for Ari Emanuel or worry over L.A.'s safety.
"By the way," Jack continued, "I'm officially one of Kevin Costner's agents now. No more driving around for you."
Aaron glanced at him. "Just keep your ear to the ground. That's enough for now."
Jack smirked. "How can you be an agent? You're meant to be the boss someday!"
Aaron smiled. "I know. A security company is more my style. I already know some skilled folks—good with weapons and handling themselves. Just waiting on the word from you."
"Don't worry. Soon enough," Aaron said, patting Jack on the shoulder. "I'm heading to the restroom."
Dim lights, chaotic music, the smell of marijuana thick in the air, couples entwined everywhere—Aaron was long accustomed to this scene.
After washing his face and lighting a cigarette, he stepped back into the hallway.
A man, swaying and clearly unsteady, suddenly collapsed against him.
Aaron instinctively steadied him, immediately hit by the pungent smell of weed. High as a kite.
Just as he was about to push him away, someone called out: "Aaron! This is River—he's a little drunk!"
Aaron turned to see the voice's owner—Johnny Depp himself.