Whoosh!
With a swing, the golf ball flew off.
Eric watched the white trajectory disappear into the distance.
Steven Spielberg smiled and looked at him, "Eric, it seems your golf skills need improvement."
Eric shrugged. Of course, he couldn't play golf. In his previous life, though he had risen to assistant director, an assistant director was nothing.
He hadn't reached the point where people would invite him to play golf; usually, it was just dinner, karaoke, and a full package of bar and sauna. Golf was still a bit too high-end for him back then.
Finally, to everyone's surprise, Eric used 183 strokes to get that damn ball into the hole.
"Phew, I have to say, getting this ball into the hole is much harder than anything in bed."
Eric's complaint immediately drew hearty laughter from everyone.
His father handed him a bottle of water, "Son, maybe you should come to the golf course more often, play more of this kind of ball, and less of that kind of ball. Your mother would be much more relieved."
Everyone burst into laughter again.
Fortunately, this was in America. If this had been in China, and these words got out, netizens would have showered them with insults, labeling them as 'disgusting men' and 'perverted men'.
"By the way, Eric, is there really something going on between you and Nicole Kidman?" Jeffrey Katzenberg asked curiously.
"What! You believe that stuff too, Jeffrey? That's pure slander. These tabloid newspapers are best at attracting attention with trashy rumors, and attracting attention equals sales."
"So la vie en rose is a real thing? What kind of movie is it? An art house film or a commercial film?" Spielberg asked.
"An art house film, a very standard art house film."
"So MGM and Nicole Kidman are planning to make another run for an award with this film?"
"Yes, you could say that."
"When is it scheduled for release? This year or next year?"
Eric shook his head slightly, "It's not certain yet. The script is still being revised and perfected. If filming goes smoothly, making it for the Christmas slot would be good too."
Spielberg smiled, "I suggest putting it in the Christmas slot."
"Why?" The Coopers looked at the bespectacled old man together.
"Because Steven is currently producing The Terminal, scheduled for next June. If la vie en rose is also released next year, we might be competitors at the Oscar," David Geffen explained from the side.
Eric suddenly understood, "Starring Tom Hanks, right? Then I definitely need to avoid you two old partners. He's the first person to win consecutive Oscar Best Actor awards for Philadelphia and Forrest Gump. I doubt there will ever be another actor like him."
"But you can fight for Nicole Kidman, for example, making her a consecutive Best Actress winner."
"Steven, you just want me to release the movie this year, right? Okay, I'll do my best. By the way, I remember your birthday is in December."
Spielberg nodded, "December 18th, why?"
"Then I've decided, la vie en rose will be scheduled for December 18th, as my birthday gift to you."
"No problem. If la vie en rose really premieres on December 18th, I'll promote it for free and book a private screening."
"Count me in."
"And me."
"Wait, something seems off. I feel like I fell into your trap. Even without la vie en rose, MGM will have other movies next year."
Hahahahaha
In the lounge, several people were sitting or lying down, with five masseurs vigorously massaging them.
These were, of course, not part of the golf course's services. Eric had specially invited experts from Chinatown. The half-white-haired old man massaging his father was almost 60 years old.
The others were his apprentices, the youngest being a Chinese woman in her twenties, slightly plump, but probably good-looking if she lost weight.
"Oh!"
"OMG!"
"Oh!"
The lounge was filled with the howls of several old men. Spielberg's left arm was bent halfway around his neck, and the world's highest-grossing director was groaning in pain.
"Relax, relax, don't resist. Your muscles are too stiff. After the massage, you'll soon feel comfortable."
Crack!
"Ah!"
With that, the master gave a strong twist, and a sound of bones shifting came from Spielberg's cervical spine.
Geffen and Katzenberg were in the same pathetic state. Hollywood moguls and the king of the music scene, they all crumbled under the onslaught of massage and foot reflexology.
Especially since this was their first time experiencing something like this in decades, the intense sensation was enough to make them feel both heavenly and hellish.
At this moment, his father lay on the recliner, panting heavily, his face flushed, with an expression of constipation.
"Doctor, I thought you were the oldest, so your strength should be the weakest. It seems I was wrong!"
David Geffen gently rubbed his chest, "Why? Why are we suffering and still have to pay!"
"That's my question too!" Jeffrey Katzenberg endured with great effort.
Eric also frowned, "David, isn't this just like those busy, hardworking common people? They do the hardest work, yet they have to hand over most of the value they create to people like us. If you think of it that way, you won't feel so bad."
Instantly, the four old men looked at him, feeling that what he said made too much sense.
David Geffen said with some emotion, "Eric, although some people don't dare to say it to my face, I know they call me a vampire behind my back. But after hearing your statement, I suddenly realized that 'vampire' might be a complimentary term."
"Thanks for the compliment! Master, attack my kidney reflex zone vigorously!"
An hour later, the massage finally ended, and the five men all collapsed onto their recliners.
"How do you feel? Are you satisfied with this special service I arranged?"
Spielberg twisted his neck, "A very strange experience. I felt like my neck was going to break, but now it's surprisingly comfortable."
"Exactly, it's like all the long-term fatigue has been released, and the acid in my body has been expelled."
"I feel the same way, especially my feet. The original soreness is gone, and now I feel light all over."
"It's like when you were young, wearing sandbags on your legs for a long time, and then suddenly taking them off."
His father smiled contentedly, "Eric, you should have recommended this to me earlier. From now on, I want one of these massages every week. Compared to the old master just now, those young girls who used to massage me were absolutely worthless."
"Haley, the question is, did those young girls just give you massages? Didn't they come with other services?"
Hahahahaha
"Jeffrey, what's the progress on frozen?" Eric asked.
"The modeling for Elsa and Anna is basically complete, including their clothes, shoes, and various different styles. The designs for other characters in the script you provided are not as detailed as for the two of them, and are currently being refined."
"Also, the scenes for the Kingdom of Arendelle, etc. In short, this is a very complex process, more complex and exquisite than Shrek. According to my plan, it will take at least another four months to complete, and that's the most conservative estimate."
"Actually, being able to do it this quickly is based on you having already provided quite complete character designs. Otherwise, based on experience, it would likely take eight months or even longer."
"Steven, do you remember how many discarded drafts there were for Shrek?"
Spielberg recalled for a moment and slowly said, "I can't remember exactly, but at least half a room full. Animated films are far more time-consuming and labor-intensive than live-action films."
As an industry professional, Eric also understood how difficult it was to produce a high-quality animated feature film, so his psychological timeframe for frozen was two years.
It would be best if it could make it for next year's summer slot, but if not, the Christmas slot would also be very good. If it couldn't even make the Christmas slot, then it would just have to be released in the summer slot of 2005.
As for other slots, that would only waste frozen's box office potential.
Having understood the progress of frozen, Eric decided to state his true purpose.
"David, besides movies, I remember DreamWorks also has a music department, right?"
David Geffen looked at him and nodded slightly, "That's right, I'm primarily responsible for the music division. I'm most skilled in this area."
"Then I'd like to release a single, is that possible?"
David Geffen was a bit surprised, "Eric, you can sing too?"
"Not me, I'm helping a friend."
"No problem, I also like to promote new talent. As long as the song is good enough, I can help him become a first-tier singer."
"Not a newcomer, it's Michael Jackson. His situation hasn't been great lately. Sony won't let him release a single, so I plan to help him."
Hearing that the singer was Michael, David Geffen immediately fell silent, and his expression turned cold.
"Michael Jackson, so it's him. Then there might be some problems."
"Why? Do you two have a grudge?"
But David Geffen, like Michael, remained silent.
"Eric, if it were anyone else, your word would be enough. But Jackson, I don't get along with him. Let's just drop it."
Eric looked at Spielberg and Katzenberg, who both had expressions of both confusion and curiosity, apparently unaware of the inside story.
What exactly happened, probably only Michael and David Geffen knew.
The atmosphere was a bit cold. Spielberg smiled and said, "We can discuss things later. Today is just for relaxation. It's not too late to talk about work later."
However, no one would take such a statement seriously. If it couldn't be discussed today, there would be even less need to discuss it later.
Eric stood up from the recliner, "David, how about we go out and talk?"
David Geffen frowned, clearly not wanting to go, but he still followed him out.
In the lounge, Katzenberg looked at his father, "Haley, what's wrong with Eric? Is he very close with Michael Jackson?"
His father shook his head, "I'm not sure either. MGM's division of labor is very clear. Eric is in charge of production. He doesn't need to report everything he thinks or does to me."
"Whatever Eric wants to talk about with David, let them talk. We shouldn't interfere. I believe they will reach a satisfactory outcome."
Since Haley Cooper didn't want to say, Katzenberg and Spielberg stopped pressing. They only had a cooperative relationship with David Geffen.
Since they were all partners, they shouldn't get involved.
Ten minutes later, the two returned to the lounge, their expressions normal, as if they had said everything, and yet nothing at all.
The others looked down, pretending nothing had happened.
In the evening, The Coopers and the DreamWorks trio waved goodbye and left separately.
Eric and David Geffen were still chatting and laughing, and no one could tell anything was amiss.
In the car, Eric called MJ.
"Michael, I've already talked to DreamWorks. Once you're ready, you can release your single."
"Really?" Michael's voice was clearly surprised.
"But David Geffen..."
"Don't worry, I handled him. But this is only a one-time opportunity. DreamWorks will only release 'Rolling in the Deep' for you as a single, with no further collaborations. But I believe in your ability."
"OMG! What happened? How did you convince David Geffen? He's such an arrogant person!"
"Heh heh, everyone has a weakness, and MGM just happens to hold DreamWorks' weakness. I don't know the specifics of your grudge, but even if David Geffen was unwilling, I had to make him bow his head this one time!"
"Eric, thank you, thank you very much. I don't know what to say."
"Then record the song well. As long as 'Rolling in the Deep' is successful, countless people will immediately jump out, scrambling to release your songs, even Sony will be no exception. Prove it to them, Michael!"
Hanging up the phone, his father looked at him, "Eric, are you that optimistic about Michael Jackson? He's a big problem right now; everyone wants to stay away from him."
"Everyone? I don't think so. Besides me, there are still people speaking up for him."
"Dad, I know you're confused. How about this, I'll tell you a story, one I learned during my few days in China."
"The story is quite old, from over two thousand years ago."
His father frowned, "Last time, the Forbidden City was a few hundred years old, and this story is two thousand years old. This country is truly ancient and frightening."
"That's right, ancient and full of wisdom. The story I'm going to tell you is also about a wise merchant. It's called 'Rare commodities are worth hoarding'."
A few minutes later, Eric finished telling the story of Lü Buwei, and his father looked thoughtful.
"Investing when the other party is in the most difficult situation, and then gaining tens or hundreds of times the profit. That's what you mean, right? Do I understand correctly?"
Eric nodded, "Exactly. For us, helping Michael Jackson doesn't take much effort, but it can bring returns far exceeding the investment. Why wouldn't we do it?"
"Globally, MJ is still firmly in the top tier. All he needs is a song, a song to help him make a comeback."
His father sighed, "Okay, Eric, you always have a plan. Is there anything you need my help with?"
"Maybe. Do you know any reliable private detectives?"