Saturday, July 8, 2023
Owen was at the Second Take Films offices working a half day. Since it was Saturday, he had arrived a little later than usual, around nine in the morning.
Even so, the place still felt incredibly alive. The offices were medium-sized. Nothing comparable to a giant Hollywood studio.
Which was exactly why the change felt even more noticeable.
Back in the beginning, the place usually had very little activity: Owen, Matt, Tyler, Eric, an editor or two, and maybe one or two projects in development, but never all at once.
Now it was completely different.
At the moment, there were three major productions operating simultaneously inside those offices.
On one side were the two Black Mirror episodes.
Each one had: its own director, producers, casting directors, assistants, and separate departments all working at the same time.
Throughout the entire previous week, the activity had been even more intense because of the in-person casting sessions.
Wednesday, Thursday, and Friday had seen actors and actresses constantly coming through the building.
Some arrived alone. Others came accompanied by their agents.
For the studio assistants, it still felt surreal opening the door and suddenly finding recognizable actors waiting for an audition.
Meanwhile, Lights Out had officially entered a completely different stage of post-production.
The editor had finished his main work. The Picture Lock was officially complete. That meant the movie's exact runtime had now been finalized. From that point on, nothing could be added, removed, or rearranged in the edit anymore.
That did not mean the film was finished.
Now another equally important phase was beginning, one that would last throughout the entire month. The colorist, the sound team, and the visual effects artists would all begin working simultaneously.
It was no longer like the beginning of post-production, when it was basically just Matt, Owen, and the editor locked in a room rewatching scenes over and over again.
Now the team had multiplied.
There were four people working in image and color. Around fifteen in visual effects. Another twelve or so handling sound and music.
Adding the other two productions on top of that, during peak hours the offices could reach nearly forty-five people moving around at the same time.
Now that it was Saturday, though, things were calmer. Fewer meetings, and part of the VFX and sound teams worked hybrid or remotely.
So physically inside the offices there were probably around twenty-five people.
Close to noon, after lunch and still during break time, a large part of the team was gathered inside the studio's recreation room.
More than ten people surrounded the ping pong table watching the match as if it were a serious sporting event.
Matt and Owen were sitting on beanbags against the wall watching.
The ones playing were Tyler and Eric.
Tyler had been the head lighting technician on Lights Out and was now assisting the lead colorist during post-production.
Eric, meanwhile, had worked as the head sound technician during filming and was now part of the sound team specifically handling dialogue editing and sound effects.
Both of them had belonged to Owen's closest circle practically since the very beginning of everything.
They had been there since The Black Hole short film. They had appeared in the Cannes, Sundance, and Oscars vlogs. The internet recognized them pretty well by now.
Especially because Eric and Tyler constantly made comments on camera that were simultaneously hilarious and cancelable.
"Are you prepared to ping the pong?" Tyler asked in an overly solemn voice while holding the paddle and the ball.
"Oh, I am absolutely prepared," Eric replied with the exact same level of drama. "During my trip to China, I trained at a school in Sichuan. Your pong cannot compare to my ping."
Some people immediately laughed.
Table tennis was practically a religion in China, and Sichuan had famous training centers.
"Oh… you sound confident," Tyler said, narrowing his eyes. "Let's see if you can prove it on the court!"
And he launched a surprisingly powerful serve.
Eric reacted instantly, returning the ball.
Within seconds, the two of them were exchanging shots at an absurd speed.
Tac-tac-tac-tac-tac.
The tiny ball flew back and forth at incredible velocity.
Several people around them started cheering and clapping through laughter, many of them surprised by the level of play. They had assumed Tyler and Eric would be average players, but they were clearly far above normal amateur level.
Apparently, Eric had not been lying about his trip to China.
"I still can't believe they're that good," Owen commented from the beanbag without moving.
He had discovered it months earlier when they installed the recreation room.
The experience had not gone well for him. He hated losing, and they had destroyed him without mercy.
So ever since then, Owen had tried practicing a little whenever he had free time.
The problem was that he almost never had free time.
So he was still pretty far from being able to beat either of them in a match.
"They should put that same energy into post-production," Matt commented, making a slight grimace as he watched the game.
Tyler and Eric were machines during production.
They loved the chaos of filming on location: moving equipment, solving problems, running around nonstop, setting up lights, and improvising.
But post-production was a different story.
They worked their hours perfectly and did their jobs well, of course. But nowhere near the borderline unhealthy enthusiasm they had during filming.
"Did you see how The Flash did?" Owen asked, changing the subject and losing interest in the ping pong match.
Matt let out a breath somewhere between disbelief and pity. "Pff… catastrophic," he said, shaking his head. "One of the biggest superhero movie disasters ever. I don't even think we need revenge against DC anymore. They're already dead."
He was not entirely exaggerating.
The situation surrounding The Flash had been an absolute disaster practically before the movie even released.
The film arrived surrounded by controversies involving its star, Ezra Miller: arrests, physical altercations, and extremely serious accusations.
The media damage became so massive that during the marketing campaign they practically hid their own lead actor.
Ezra barely gave interviews, did not appear on major shows, and made only minimal appearances on red carpets.
A considerable part of the audience simply decided to boycott the movie.
The box office results were brutal.
After four weeks in theaters, the film was barely hovering around 250 million dollars worldwide and already looked completely exhausted commercially.
Everything pointed toward it finishing somewhere between 270 and 280 million at most.
Nowhere near what was needed to even approach profitability, especially considering the production budget was estimated between 200 and 220 million dollars.
And on top of that, there were still roughly another 150 million spent on global marketing. Analysts were already openly talking about net losses exceeding 200 million dollars for Warner Bros..
The problem was not only financial.
The reception did not help either. On Rotten Tomatoes, critics had only given the film a lukewarm 63%.
Meanwhile, the internet was completely flooded with mockery aimed at the movie's CGI.
Especially scenes like Flash running in slow motion, saving an obviously fake-looking baby and putting it into a microwave, along with the digital cameos of deceased actors recreated in the multiverse, including Nicolas Cage.
A huge number of people described the visual effects as: artificial, unfinished, or outright uncomfortable to watch.
There was another problem.
For a large portion of the audience, going to see The Flash felt pointless.
Because by then it was already public knowledge that James Gunn and Peter Safran were completely rebooting the entire DC universe.
Audiences already knew everything was going to disappear.
In fact, it was even public knowledge who would be playing the new Superman in the reboot.
So the movie gave off a strange feeling, as if it belonged to a dead universe before it had even finished its theatrical run.
"Thank God we didn't go watch it," Owen Ashford said, letting out an exaggeratedly relieved sigh.
He had seen clips online, and honestly felt like the CGI physically hurt his eyes.
"Amen to that," Matt replied with a nod. "Sometimes being overloaded with work has its advantages."
Both of them had already been losing a lot of confidence in DC for quite a while. Months earlier, they had gone to see Black Adam and walked out pretty disappointed.
That was exactly one of the genre's biggest problems right now.
Little by little, audiences were losing faith.
If every superhero movie that came out ended up being mediocre, forgettable, or outright bad, people would eventually stop going to theaters.
It was not superhero fatigue.
It was bad movies.
Shazam! Fury of the Gods, released in March, had been another disaster.
It cost around 125 million dollars and barely managed to gross about 134 million worldwide. After splitting revenue with theaters and adding marketing costs, it ended up generating massive losses.
The comparison even felt absurd to Owen. Paranormal Activity had cost only twenty thousand dollars and had grossed more than Shazam.
The only real hopes DC seemed to have left that year were Blue Beetle, which still had to release in August, and Aquaman and the Lost Kingdom, although that movie was also carrying constant controversy related to Amber Heard.
So yes, joining that franchise did not exactly seem like the safest decision in the world.
Although it was not that simple either. Because it was still Superman.
The most iconic character in the genre.
And besides, there was James Gunn. In theory, that changed things.
Gunn had a huge amount of goodwill from both the industry and audiences thanks to Guardians of the Galaxy Vol. 3, which that very year had practically saved Marvel at the box office by surpassing 830 million dollars worldwide.
And Owen had actually liked the Superman script, since he had reached the final stage and been allowed to read it.
He did not think it was on the level of Guardians Vol. 3.
But he did think it was solid.
Especially because of the more human and optimistic approach to the character.
Even though DC already seemed to be inside the coffin, Chronicle was still moving forward.
It would be Owen and Matt's next movie.
Neither of them really needed to force the whole revenge narrative too hard.
The internet and the media would probably build it on their own once it eventually became public that Owen had lost the role of Superman and was now making a superpower movie with his own "vision" of the genre.
Especially because there was a chance both films could end up releasing relatively close to each other.
Although that was not guaranteed either. Even with a lead actor already confirmed, Superman was still a gigantic studio production.
Those types of movies took much longer to complete.
Meanwhile, Chronicle, even with an increased budget, would still be a far smaller and more agile production.
"So what are you gonna do now?" Matt asked after a few seconds.
"I'll work a little longer and then I'll leave…" Owen replied while checking his watch. "At one."
Matt widened his eyes dramatically as if he had just heard historic news.
Normally on Saturdays the two of them stayed working until at least three or four in the afternoon.
"What happened?" he asked theatrically.
Owen barely rolled his eyes. "I have a date with Jenna."
"Ohhh, nice," Matt said, clapping softly with a teasing smile. "You have to keep the relationship alive and all that."
Even though Owen and Jenna worked incredibly well together and practically lived together between projects, shoots, and office hours, the two of them also tried to maintain some sense of normality as a couple.
Honestly, Owen thought they did a pretty good job at it.
They spent time together watching movies, cooking, lazily hanging around in one another's apartments, or simply working in silence while keeping each other company.
Where they struggled the most was actually going out.
Because both of them were pretty lazy about that kind of thing.
A lot of the time they would plan to go to dinner, go somewhere, or do something like that, only to end up staying home watching a movie or talking about work for hours instead.
"Oh, and I'm going to tell her I won't accept the role of Bruno," Owen added as if it were an important detail he had just remembered.
Matt understood he was referring to the role in Wednesday.
He also knew why Jenna wanted Owen to accept it.
Beyond the project itself, it was a way for them to spend time together while she spent months filming in Europe.
Matt also knew Owen did not want to do the character and that he still had not told Jenna.
"I don't think a date is the best place to say that, man…" Matt commented, giving him a doubtful look.
That had the potential to end in an argument. Or, at the very least, an uncomfortable conversation.
Owen simply smiled calmly. "I've got everything under control."
Matt made a small skeptical expression. "If you say so."
He stood up, and before going back to work, remembered something.
"Oh, right, check out the link I sent you a little while ago. It's a horror short film called The Chair. Really good."
Owen raised an eyebrow. "The Chair? What is it? A possessed chair?"
Matt stayed completely serious for a few seconds before answering, "Yes… an old chair possessed by an evil spirit."
Owen remained silent for a moment before letting out a laugh through his nose. "Alright, I'll check it out."
"It's over twenty minutes long, but it's worth it," Matt added. "It has feature film potential, in case you want to invest."
Owen had plans to expand Second Take Films.
That was why Matt constantly sent him: short films, scripts, pilots, or small ideas with potential.
If they found something genuinely good, they could produce it, buy the script, acquire the rights, whatever made sense.
Especially now that Matt knew Owen would have serious money to invest once his share of the Good Will Hunting box office revenue started coming in.
Owen nodded with interest.
They exchanged a few more words before finally separating and heading back to their respective offices.
Once inside his office, Owen spent a few seconds thinking about Second Take Films.
The studio had grown enormously.
Even so, it still retained a very indie kind of energy.
The offices only truly filled up when multiple projects were actively in production at the same time, like what was happening right now.
They did not have a gigantic permanent structure.
There were not dozens of full-time employees like at far more developed independent studios such as A24 or Neon.
And Owen was not particularly interested, at least for now, in turning Second Take Films into a massive company trying to compete on every front.
He did not want to become a distributor.
Nor did he want to build some giant corporate machine.
He preferred focusing on what genuinely interested him: making movies.
He sat down in front of his computer and started reviewing PDFs containing budgets and financial reports.
The two Black Mirror episodes had a combined total cost of around 10.5 million dollars.
Black Mirror episode "San Junípero" represented the largest expense: 7 million.
It was essentially a premium episode, far more visually ambitious and running over an hour long.
Meanwhile, "Shut Up and Dance" had a lower budget: 3.5 million.
The reports sent by the line producers, whose job was to make sure each production stayed within the agreed budget, indicated that everything remained on schedule financially.
They obviously had not spent the full 10.5 million yet.
But Owen already mentally treated that money as unavailable capital removed from his bank account.
What he truly considered free money was around 17.8 million dollars.
Most of that money came from IP sales, followed by YouTube revenue, sponsorships, and brand deals like Rolex.
His channel alone had already surpassed months generating more than five hundred thousand dollars in revenue.
Of course, there were still massive expenses.
The Rolls-Royce for his father would probably end up costing around half a million dollars if they really went with a fully customized configuration.
Plus other normal personal and professional expenses.
'Not bad,' Owen thought while continuing to review numbers.
He genuinely could produce Chronicle with his own money.
If the budget ended up around 15 million, he could finance it perfectly with the capital he currently had.
Although they still needed to make real and more precise budgets.
Because if he decided to make the movie more visually ambitious, improve the effects, increase the scale, or hire more expensive actors, it could easily climb closer to 20 million or even more.
But even then, it probably would not be a problem.
Because by the time Chronicle truly entered heavy pre-production, the Good Will Hunting box office money would already have started coming in.
'It's not like I'm going to start spending millions on Chronicle next week,' he thought, relaxing slightly while closing one of the PDFs.
He worked on a few more things before finally leaving the offices to go meet Jenna for their date.
-------------------------------------------------
You can read 15 chapters in advance on my patreon.
Link: https://[email protected]/Nathe07