Millionaire in the Projects had been shooting for a few months and was now deep in post-production. The movie was cheap as hell, both in front of and behind the camera.
That meant everything moved lightning-fast. No big VFX shots, no giant set pieces, just quiet, real-life slices of everyday struggle.
But Joey had to rush it into theaters this year, no later than mid-year, so it could hit right when the financial crisis was scaring the crap out of everybody. That timing was everything.
The second post was locked, she shipped the print off to the MPAA (or as everyone in Hollywood calls it, the ratings board from hell).
Everyone knows the MPAA is a nightmare. They've murdered more good movies than critics ever have. One little "R" stamp and your box office can lose 30-50% overnight, because no teenagers allowed without a parent.
So unless you're going for pure art-house cred, every studio begs, borrows, and trims to stay PG-13.
The worst part? Every MPAA panel is required to have a clergy member, and those folks tend to be… traditional. Blood, boobs, swear words, anything remotely "edgy," they'll slap you with an R faster than you can say "Hail Mary."
Big studios don't sweat it; the Six Majors basically own pieces of the MPAA, so their movies sail through. Indie filmmakers? They get screwed.
Joey had shot the movie with PG-13 in mind, super clean, no nudity, no gore, no sex, barely any swearing. She was positive it'd slide right through.
Then the rating came back: R.
She stared at the letter until she thought she'd bleed from the eyes. "R?? Are you kidding me? There's not a single frame of anything even close to R-rated in this movie. Did the MPAA watch it blindfolded?"
Hughes just sat there smoking, calm as ever. "They don't always look for nudity or blood every time. Sometimes it's the 'overall tone.' You know that."
Joey slammed her forehead on the table. "They said the tone is 'too intense.' Too intense?? That's the most subjective bullshit I've ever heard. An R is gonna kill our box office. It's already an automatic handicap."
Hughes leaned back, smirking like he was enjoying the show. "So what are you gonna do? Appeal?"
"I want to, but we don't have three months or another million dollars to fight it. UA only gave me $19 million total. If we appeal, earliest we get back on screen is Christmas, and by then the recession sweet spot is gone."
He flicked his lighter open and shut a few times. "Then don't appeal. Own the R and weaponize it."
Joey lifted her head. "…Come again?"
"You've already been screwed, so flip the script. Put out an official statement from the production calling out the MPAA for unfair, inconsistent standards. No sex, no violence, no drugs, just a 'tense tone'? Make it public. Say it should've been PG-13 and they're punishing you for telling an honest story. People hate the MPAA; this'll go viral in ten minutes."
"Won't that just piss them off and make them target me forever?"
Hughes actually laughed. "Please. The second you shine a spotlight on them, they'll be terrified to touch your movies again. Trust me, after this they'll rubber-stamp your next ten films just to avoid the headache."
Joey thought about it for five seconds. "Screw it. Let's do it."
So they did.
The internet exploded exactly the way Hughes predicted.
"Holy crap, another one bites the dust because of the MPAA."
"They're coming for Joey Grant now? The woman who literally makes American Dream movies? Bold move."
"Wait… Joey Grant made an R-rated movie?? I need to see this."
A lot of industry folks were secretly thrilled. Finally, the Asian chick who came out of nowhere and printed money every time might actually flop. An R-rated "artsy" movie about Asian-Americans? In this market? Good luck, sweetheart.
Jealousy's a universal disease; no cure yet.
But Joey didn't care what they thought. The release date was locked.
Hughes had already drawn up a full Oscar campaign playbook, and Step 1 was "use the MPAA controversy to earn sympathy points." Check.
Step 2: premiere at Toronto.
TIFF has basically become the Oscar launchpad. Whatever kills at Toronto usually ends up with a bunch of little gold men nine months later.
Joey wrote a $100,000 check for the submission fee, and Millionaire in the Projects was officially in competition, plus the whole team got red-carpet passes.
Inside the TIFF headquarters, the programming team was having their final meeting about the lineup.
"Such a shame. Joey Grant's new film is phenomenal. Bold, fresh, emotional, perfect for what the world needs right now."
"Absolutely. It tackles real social issues while still celebrating tolerance and love. Exactly the message we want to send."
"Would've been a killer opening-night film… but rules are rules. Once it's in competition it can't open the festival."
Festival president Savage just smiled. "Don't worry. Missing the opening slot might actually be a blessing. I have a feeling this one's walking away with the People's Choice Award, maybe even the big prize."
And so, when the festival finally kicked off, people were shocked to learn that for the first time in history, Toronto had chosen a female director to open the entire festival.
But it wasn't Joey Grant.
It was French director Emmanuelle Becquet with her film Head Held High.
The opening-night premiere came and went, the red carpets rolled out, and the festival was officially on.
A couple days later, Joey and her cast stepped onto that same red carpet, this time as official competition entrants, ready to show the world Millionaire in the Projects to the world.