The Burbank offices of Daenerys Entertainment were crowded and bustling, charged with an unmistakable excitement.
That was Julia Roberts's first impression of the place.
It was Saturday, yet hardly anyone seemed aware that they were supposed to be enjoying the weekend. When she thought of the glowing reviews for Steel Magnolias that had appeared in the media that morning, Julia felt her own pulse quicken.
In addition to the expected praise for the film as a whole, for director Mark Rydell, and for Jessica Lange in the lead, many reviews had singled out her performance as Shelby.
After analyzing the coverage that morning and speaking with Daenerys, Marvin Josephson the president of ICM who had personally taken over her representation told her there was a real chance of securing an Oscar nomination for Best Supporting Actress.
At twenty-one, Julia had no illusions about winning, but a nomination alone would give her an edge over most actresses her age.
Today she was attending a promotional meeting. Marvin had not come himself; he had sent another agent to accompany her. When they were shown into a conference room, Julia was surprised to find that Daryl Hannah, another star of Steel Magnolias, was already there with her own agent.
Both women were ICM clients. In the past, Julia would have felt she could only look up to Daryl.
At twenty-eight, Daryl had debuted in the seventies and gained attention for her replicant role in Ridley Scott's Blade Runner in 1982. In the years since, she had starred in hits such as Splash, Wall Street, and Roxanne—one of the hottest actresses of the eighties.
Yet when Julia thought of her own five-picture deal with Daenerys, her confidence returned.
She wondered if Simon Westeros would be at the meeting.
Unfortunately, the young man so many Hollywood actresses envied already had a girlfriend. Rumor had it he preferred older women. Beverly Hills Housewives had apparently been influenced by that very preference.
Fair enough.
A little boy who had grown up short on affection might naturally gravitate toward a gentle, caring older sister figure. But who said a younger woman couldn't be gentle and caring too?
With that thought, Julia greeted Daryl. When the older actress responded coolly, Julia did not push; she left the conversation to the two agents, who chatted occasionally to keep the silence from growing awkward.
After ten minutes or so, the rest of the film's principal cast and crew arrived. Yet even after the scheduled two o'clock start time, no one from Daenerys appeared ready to begin.
Just as director Mark Rydell stood to inquire, Daenerys CEO Amy Pascal entered, apologized warmly, and explained that an unexpected issue had arisen and they would need a few more minutes.
Rydell, Jessica Lange, Dolly Parton, Daryl Hannah any of them were usually the ones others waited for. But with Amy personally delivering the apology and Daenerys at the height of its power, everyone took it graciously. Otherwise the studio could never have assembled so many high-profile names on a Saturday.
Still, curiosity rippled through the room: what could have caused the delay?
Amy exchanged brief pleasantries and hurried out again, leaving Jennifer and Vanessa Simon and Amy's personal assistants to look after the guests. Their presence underlined the studio's respect, so no one complained.
Upstairs, meanwhile, in a large conference room, nearly every senior executive of Daenerys Entertainment was present. Even Robert Iger had flown in from New York that morning.
Robert Remme, head of distribution; Robert Iger, head of television; New World Pictures president Danny Morris; Gaumont president Ella Deutschman; Daenerys Visual Effects president Mark Shivers; Marvel Entertainment president James Galton; consumer products president Nancy Brill; CFO Paul Schmidt, and several other key executives sat around the long table.
Only Simon stood at the head, his expression grave.
He was not angry, yet the calm authority built over two lifetimes, combined with the immense wealth and prestige that surrounded him, ensured that no one in the room took the moment lightly.
The issue concerned the roadshow plans for Steel Magnolias.
Four major releases were slated for the end of the year, Scream, Steel Magnolias, Dead Poets Society, and Rain Man each aimed at different audiences. To promote them efficiently and precisely, four separate teams had been assigned.
Per the established branding strategy, Scream fell under New World Distribution and would carry the New World Pictures logo; Steel Magnolias, Dead Poets Society, and Rain Man belonged to Daenerys Distribution and would open with the Daenerys Pictures logo.
Scream was Daenerys Entertainment's first fully independent commercial release, and the company had spared no effort. Robert Remme had assigned his best people to the Scream team and poured in resources.
Nationwide roadshows required extensive media contacts; lesser studios attempting the same might arrive in a city and find no outlets willing to cooperate. Only the combination of New World's accumulated relationships and Daenerys's financial muscle had made it possible.
The film's $20.71 million opening weekend owed much to the promotional team's work.
With Steel Magnolias, the problems became apparent.
Four films, four teams—competition was inevitable.
Both Remme and the distribution staff naturally gravitated toward the project with the highest box-office potential. Scream topped the list; everyone wanted to be on that team, and Remme allocated the most resources to it. Before Rain Man's distribution rights returned to Daenerys, Steel Magnolias had been considered the weakest of the remaining three. After staffing adjustments, its team was noticeably thinner.
Early promotional efforts had consisted mainly of advertising buys across channels, so Simon had not noticed the disparity.
But when roadshows began and he compared the plans for Scream and Steel Magnolias, the difference was stark.
It was not that the Steel Magnolias plan was poor. The company was in rapid ascent; everyone was working hard. Even with fewer resources, the team had produced a solid, thoughtful proposal.
The problem was the lack of coordination.
The two plans were completely different in approach.
The Steel Magnolias team had not incorporated any lessons—successful or otherwise—from Scream. Proven strategies were absent; avoided pitfalls were repeated.
Simon did not particularly care about the commercial fate of any single film. What concerned him was the longer-term consequence: unchecked, this would breed factions and internal conflict.
The most visible symptom of "big company disease" was interdepartmental infighting.
Daenerys was far from a deeply entrenched giant, yet Simon refused to be complacent. Discovering the issue now was almost a relief.
In a few years, once the company's culture solidified, correcting such problems without major upheaval would be impossible.
Amy returned after her brief absence. Simon, who had remained silent until then, continued.
"Everyone needs to understand one thing: Daenerys Entertainment is a single entity. Production, distribution, merchandising, and every support department are indispensable. I don't expect you all to get along personally, two people can disagree, let alone eight hundred employees. But I do require collaboration. You may want to strangle each other in private; at work you will cooperate. If you cannot, you may choose to leave, or I will remove you. Competition within Daenerys is inevitable and healthy. Collaboration, however, is more important, and it will be reflected directly in your compensation."
He held up the two roadshow plans.
"These documents illustrate the problem. Steel Magnolias could have adopted Scream's successful elements and avoided its mistakes. That did not happen. The teams clearly did not communicate. Some on the Scream side may even have been waiting to watch the others fail. The attitude of 'I won't let you learn from my experience or avoid my errors' is narrow and unacceptable. I do not want to see it again. And Bob, coordinating communication between teams was your responsibility. This was a failure on your part."
Robert Remme met Simon's sharp gaze without protest. "I'm sorry, Simon."
"I don't want apologies," Simon said, shaking his head. "As a consequence, your annual bonus will be reduced by ten percent."
Under their agreement, Remme's bonus could reach three million dollars depending on performance. Having started in August, he had been on track for the full amount given the company's momentum.
Ten percent meant a $300,000 cut. [TL/N: Ouch!]
Remme managed a wry smile. Everyone felt Simon's rare seriousness today. Arguing would likely cost another ten percent and he could not afford to walk away. Plenty of talented executives were waiting to take his place.
When Remme offered no objection, Simon continued.
"The nature of the film business makes project-specific teams efficient, but I will not tolerate splintered factions. Ensuring unity and collaboration across teams is your job. When you assign staff to projects, you must also ensure they work with other teams. The same applies between departments. Let me be clear: collaboration is now mandatory, not optional. Employees who assist colleagues beyond their immediate duties will earn higher pay and faster promotions. Amy and I have handled HR ourselves until now. We will establish a dedicated human resources department to oversee and enforce this. That is all for today. Discuss it among yourselves and implement it quickly."
Simon raised the two plans toward Remme and left the room.
Remme followed him into the hallway.
With office space at a premium in Burbank, Simon had no dedicated office there. He stopped in the corridor and handed over the documents.
"You have one day. Bring the Scream and Steel Magnolias teams together and produce a new joint plan. Include Dead Poets Society and Rain Man as well. Get it done. Tell them if they fail, everyone on those teams takes a one-level pay cut next month and loses half their year-end bonus."
A recently announced compensation plan promised December bonuses ranging from double to ten times monthly salary, depending on tenure and performance, with additional awards for outstanding contributors.
The announcement had fueled the intense work ethic throughout the company; even on a Saturday few had taken the day off.
Across the entire Daenerys Entertainment group, Daenerys Pictures, New World Pictures, Gaumont, Daenerys Television, Daenerys Distribution, New World Distribution, Daenerys Home Entertainment, Daenerys Visual Effects, Pixar Animation, Marvel Entertainment, and various direct subsidiaries—total headcount now exceeded eight hundred.
Excluding executives on separate packages, average monthly salary for the rest, including mid- and lower-level managers, was about $3,500. At eight hundred employees, regular payroll ran roughly $2.8 million per month.
Even if every employee received the maximum ten-times bonus, the total cost would be $28 million.
In reality it would be far less.
Daenerys's plan already exceeded anything offered by comparable studios. Orion Pictures, despite Pulp Fiction, remained in the red overall due to numerous flops and could not afford generous bonuses. Even the weakest of the majors MGM and Columbia lagged behind.
Simon could have been more lavish, but he believed in measured progression.
Most employees had joined only months earlier; lavish rewards now would make future increases difficult.