Chapter 83 – Actually, I'm Not in a Hurry
Hollywood Boulevard, in front of the iconic Grauman's Chinese Theatre.
The red carpet was ablaze with flashes and cheers — it was the premiere night of Dances with Wolves.
Among the glittering guests were Aaron Anderson and Nicole Kidman.
Nicole leaned close, her voice teasing but sweet.
"So, selling The Silence of the Lambs must've filled Orion's pockets again, huh?"
Aaron glanced around at the grandeur and snorted. "Still looks the same to me."
Nicole chuckled. "They didn't even have the guts to release The Silence of the Lambs, yet you went ahead and threw money at it? You're either fearless or insane."
Aaron gave her a sideways look. "You know, people say big chests come with small brains. You don't even have that excuse, so what's your reason?"
She rolled her eyes. "Oh, here we go again."
Aaron continued, tone calm but sharp:
"Remember when 20th Century Fox passed on Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles? Look how that turned out. Regret's a painful thing in this town."
"It's all about vision. When The Silence of the Lambs hits next year, Orion will be bawling their eyes out."
Nicole raised her hands in mock surrender. "Fine, fine. I can't argue with your confidence."
She was there mostly out of courtesy — after all, she had just worked with Kevin Costner on Ghost (the romantic fantasy now in post-production). Supporting his premiere was only natural.
Aaron, on the other hand, wasn't particularly excited by the event. For him, these premieres were just social rituals — another networking arena.
Later backstage, he ran into Mike Medavoy, head of TriStar Pictures. Medavoy had been one of the producers behind Dances with Wolves — and coincidentally, the man who had championed The Silence of the Lambs in its early days.
They shook hands warmly, then found a quiet corner to talk.
Medavoy sighed with a touch of nostalgia.
"When we first greenlit The Silence of the Lambs, everyone thought I was crazy. I had to fight to get Jonathan Demme approved as director. And for the lead… nobody believed in Jodie Foster. They all wanted someone flashier. But she fought for it herself — convinced the director personally. Every other actress we approached turned the role down."
He chuckled softly, shaking his head. "We brought in Anthony Hopkins from the London stage. The first time he and Jodie read together… sparks. Pure magic."
Aaron listened closely, his respect genuine.
Medavoy continued, "We had to cut corners everywhere — the whole film barely cost $19 million. But you know what people are saying now?"
Aaron raised an eyebrow. "What's that?"
Medavoy gave a wry grin. "They call it 'A-list actors, B-list script, C-list director.'"
He sighed again. "Then Orion's finances got worse. They brought in new investors, and before I knew it, The Silence of the Lambs was sold off."
He turned his sharp gaze toward Aaron.
"Let TriStar distribute it. I know you've worked well with Columbia, but this one's different. I still believe in the film. Standard deal — 15% distribution commission."
Aaron leaned back, smiling faintly. "Mr. Medavoy, I'm not in a hurry."
That single line carried quiet confidence.
A 15% fee was outrageous.
He had already proven his eye for talent and material. To treat him like a rookie producer was insulting.
Sony distributed for Carolco and Castle Rock at 10% — sometimes even less. Why should Dawnlight Films pay more, especially for a film starring an Oscar-winning actress like Jodie Foster?
Boyz n the Hood might've been a risky indie with unknowns — 15% was fair then.
But The Silence of the Lambs was a different animal entirely.
Aaron wasn't desperate.
He knew exactly what he had — a masterpiece in his hands.
And The Silence of the Lambs wasn't some low-budget indie either — it was a fully-fledged studio picture, nearly $20 million in production costs. This wasn't a gamble from a few scrappy million; it was a serious film with serious potential.
Mike Medavoy looked at Aaron with a knowing smile.
"So, next March you've got Boyz n the Hood hitting theaters, and in the summer, Ghost. Seems like you've got plenty of confidence in your lineup, huh?"
He was no fool — both of those films were being distributed through Columbia, after all.
Aaron smiled lightly.
"I've always had confidence in my judgment."
He wasn't bluffing. Once Boyz n the Hood hit theaters and turned a profit, negotiating for The Silence of the Lambs distribution would be much easier.
Besides, Aaron didn't want to rush the release. Lambs had clear Oscar potential — and timing was everything.
Medavoy chuckled. "The sooner you lock in a distribution deal, the sooner you can take it to the bank. You've got about six months — don't tell me you're not planning to develop anything else?"
He wasn't wrong. Dawnlight Films had already financed three projects in quick succession — cashflow had to be tight.
Most of Ghost was bank-financed, and Orion's sale of Lambs had been a cash deal. Medavoy, of all people, knew exactly how bad Orion's finances were.
Aaron paused, thinking it through. Medavoy had a point.
If he had a signed distribution contract, even a cautious bank would consider it a solid guarantee. With a $20 million production, Jodie Foster's name, and future income from box office, home video, and television rights, a few million in loans would be easy to secure.
Aaron exhaled softly, leaning forward.
"Thirteen percent distribution fee — and I want a minimum of 800 theaters for the opening."
He smiled. "You've seen the film, Mr. Medavoy. The Silence of the Lambs isn't just another slasher thriller. It's layered — it touches on feminism, psychology, and even religious symbolism. It's not a genre piece; it's a statement. That's why you championed it in the first place, isn't it?"
Medavoy thought for a moment, then nodded.
"All right. I can agree to that. But I'll need to place it in the spring schedule — say, February or April."
Aaron frowned. "Spring? That's not exactly a strong season for this kind of film. Why not the fall, around Halloween?"
Medavoy smiled knowingly.
"Because TriStar's slate is packed. Oliver Stone's The Doors opens late February, early March. That window's already set. We'll position The Silence of the Lambs for April."
Aaron looked puzzled.
Medavoy explained patiently,
"Columbia already has Boyz n the Hood and Mortal Thoughts lined up for the spring. Sony's goal next year is to release at least three films every month — and the summer and holiday slots are reserved for blockbusters. You don't want your movie buried alive competing with those."
He wasn't wrong. During the high season, anything that wasn't a tentpole would be crushed under marketing giants.
"Fine," Aaron nodded after a pause. "Let's set it for late April. It'll ride the wave right into summer."
Medavoy smiled, offering his hand.
"Then it's settled. Here's to a successful partnership."
"Pleasure doing business," Aaron replied, shaking firmly.
The deal was done. The Silence of the Lambs would be distributed by TriStar Pictures, released nationwide in April 1991 — the calm before the summer storm.
Medavoy patted Aaron on the shoulder as they headed back toward the screening room.
"All right, the film's about to start. Let's go enjoy it."
Aaron smiled faintly.
Enjoying it wasn't exactly the word — he was already thinking two steps ahead, calculating, planning, winning.