The Wolf of Los Angeles

[Chapter 9: You Knew Nothing About Your Own Talent]

As night fell, Hawke had finished visiting the outdoor exhibition area of the film festival and moved onto the main street.

Aside from the thirty business cards in Brandt's pocket, he hadn't gathered much.

It was Hawke's first time at a film festival, and it turned out to be quite different from what he had imagined. The small crews in the outdoor area were all struggling; their wallets looked cleaner than their faces.

Brandt asked, "What's next?"

"Let's hit some local theaters, gather information, and connect with the crews participating in the festival." Hawke suggested, as he thought of how to make use of Brandt's contacts. "Don't you know anyone on the committee? Could you get the info on all the participating films tomorrow? And maybe find some data from last year's deals?"

Brandt hesitated for a moment and said, "I'll give it a shot."

They walked past five theaters, collected a bunch of film materials, and chose two to watch. Unfortunately, the films were so bad that they had to leave early due to unsuitable conditions.

At the large Salt Lake Theater near the community, a group was handing out flyers, trying to get passersby to come inside.

The leader of the group, a man in his thirties, dressed sharply in a suit, with brown hair and a long face, extended his arms, and the glint from his Rolex watch shined brightly on his wrist.

One of them ran over, presenting a flyer to Hawke, and exclaimed, "D.C. Heights is about to screen, come watch for free!"

Hawke grabbed the flyer and quickly skimmed it. The images featured mostly Latino characters, with the plot set in a Latino neighborhood in Washington.

There was also a publicity shot featuring the Rolex man, who was the director.

Hawke handed the flyer to Brandt and observed the crowd outside the theater.

The audience was mostly white, with a few black faces and hardly any Latinos.

After a moment's consideration, Hawke said, "Let's check it out."

Brandt, curious, asked, "Is this movie any good? What's the point of a film about Latinos? It sounds boring..."

Hawke walked ahead, stating, "How would we know if we didn't see it."

Brandt shut up but then couldn't resist before reaching the theater door: "I see what you mean. That director dresses in mid to high-end brands and wears a Rolex; he clearly has money."

Hawke replied, "You finally found the key issue."

Brandt chuckled, "I have an eye for beauty."

They entered the theater and chose seats in the back row, waiting for about ten minutes before the film started.

The audience wasn't huge; out of two hundred seats, only about a third were filled.

At that moment, Hawke noticed the Rolex-wearing director quietly entering and taking a seat in the back row as well, pulling out a portable DV camera from his bag and filming the audience with an excited expression.

However, it wasn't long before the excitement faded from his face.

The film quickly set the scene, depicting the Latino neighborhoods in Washington, known as the "Capital of World Drug Trade," focusing on a group of former drug dealers trying to turn their lives around amidst the shadows of drugs and violence.

The screen filled with Latino characters, and some dialogue was in Spanish.

Within five minutes, three white audience members left.

Then, more black and white attendees followed suit.

The director's expression darkened; he seemed inexperienced. When another wave of people got up to leave, he couldn't help but ask, "Is the film that bad?"

One white guy shrugged, "Not interested."

"Boring."

"Who cares about this trash movie?"

Despite all this, a few minutes later, Brandt next to Hawke yawned and glanced at another group leaving, asking, "Should we go too?"

"Even though the production is rough, the plot seems okay," Hawke replied. "Why do you want to leave?"

Brandt reiterated, "It's lame; I'm not interested in Latino problems."

Hawke insisted, "Let's wait until we see it all."

As the film reached its second half, nearly half the audience was gone.

Most people in the film industry wore their emotions outwardly. The Rolex-wearing director, visibly defeated, turned off his DV camera and sat slumped.

Hawke quietly moved closer, taking an empty seat beside him. "Are you the director?"

The Rolex director nodded absently.

"It's a great movie," Hawke complimented, introducing himself. "I'm Hawke Osment, a media professional."

The director reluctantly shook Hawke's hand. "Eric Emerson. You can see, I'm not a very successful director."

Hawke asked specifically, "I haven't heard of this film. Which company produced it?"

At that, Eric pictured himself on his knees, begging a plain-faced woman for money, bitterness washing over him: "I personally raised the funds to make it; it's unrelated to any film company."

Hawke pulled out a business card printed in Salt Lake City and handed it to Eric. "How about exchanging contact information?"

Eric accepted it and gave his card in return, but before Hawke could say anything else, he stood up suddenly, a radiant smile appearing on his face, and rushed to the entrance.

Hawke was astonished by the speed of his transformation.

At the entrance stood a woman, tall with big hands and a thicker waist, sporting a wide face.

Eric rushed up and kissed her on the lips. "Honey, what are you doing here?"

She kissed him back and responded, "I came to congratulate you! Your film is finally screening in the theater."

For a fleeting moment, Eric's smile faltered; he whispered, "A theater screening isn't the same as a festival showcase."

The woman added, "Don't worry, I contacted the distribution company. They will send someone to watch it."

Eric's smile was brighter than ever. "I don't know how to thank you..."

With them standing not far apart, Hawke listened intently.

As the screening of D.C. Heights concluded, the audience trickled out. The director, Eric, was engaged in conversation with the woman and was momentarily occupied.

Hawke left the screening room and examined all the materials related to D.C. Heights in the ticketing area.

Brandt asked, "No way, do you really think this film has potential?"

Hawke didn't reply; instead, he pointed inside the theater. "Could you do me a favor? Go inside, schmooze with the director, find out about the film's investment, its screenings, and any selling intents. Gather as much info as you can..."

"I don't know him!" Brandt shook his head. "He's not a friend; how could I ask?"

Hawke sighed, "You know nothing about your own talent." He pushed Brandt gently toward the direction of the theater. "Trust yourself; you can totally do it."

Brandt entered the screening room.

After waiting nearly half an hour on the side of the road, Hawke finally saw Brandt emerge from the theater.

That guy looked stuffed, almost as if his eyebrows were about to take flight.

Hawke directly inquired, "What's the situation?"

Brandt's first comment was, "Poor director, sold his love life to fund his film. He has to lick that woman every night." His expression showed disappointment. "Turns out soft life isn't that great; I'm still after my pretty girl."

From his jumbled words, Hawke recognized the key point: "Does the film still need more funding? Is she willing to pay?"

Brandt recalled carefully and said, "From what the director hinted at, it seems she inherited over ten million dollars. In her circles, dating an artsy film director boosts her status a lot."

He concluded, "As long as the director puts in the work at night, the woman can easily cough up some cash."

Noticing the time, Hawke felt hunger set in. "Let's grab a bite and talk as we walk."

Brandt was adept at schmoozing and learned quite a bit of useful information.

Eric Emerson had previously only directed one experimental short film. By a stroke of fate, he met his plain-faced girlfriend, Katherine, at a gathering in the film industry, successfully wooing her and securing a $200,000 production budget for D.C. Heights.

Young directors often had inflated egos, usually focused on making films without understanding the market. Eric believed that his first feature had the potential for a theatrical release. Taking his girlfriend and a couple of hired hands, he came to promote the film at the festival. Yet, the first screening drew a significant number of early walkouts, which dented his confidence.

A second screening of D.C. Heights would take place in the Salt Lake Theater three days later from 9:30 AM to 11:30 AM.

This screening would be critical.

Through her deceased father's connections, Katherine secured an audience with a group of buyers led by Bruce Richmond, the Vice President of Production and Distribution at Castle Rock Entertainment.

Whether the film would be bought or released in theaters rested on the outcome of this screening.

*****

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