The Wolf of Los Angeles

Chapter 10: Professional Audiences for Films?

After running around all afternoon and most of the evening, meeting with dozens of film crews, Hawk finally found an opportunity.

Reviewing the situation with The Heights of the District, Hawk’s eyes settled on Brandon. Combining this with memories from his previous life, he began crafting a plan.

Brandon’s local background and strong network were critical.

Hawk patted Brandon’s shoulder. “I have a plan—how about making some money together?”

Brandon, still a college student, replied, “I’m happy to help. Just treat me to dinner, and that’s enough.”

Helping wasn’t enough; Hawk needed him fully committed. “If the plan fails, we both stay broke. But if it succeeds, I’ll give you 20% of the profits.”

Brandon hesitated. He still didn’t believe a film about Mexicans could turn a profit.

Hawk played his trump card. “Next time you ask that girl out, bring her Tiffany jewelry or a Chanel bag. Trust me, the outcome will be different—she might even start chasing you.”

Hawk glanced toward the Big Salt Lake Cinema. “Tomorrow morning, head to the organizing committee. Get a copy of The Heights of the District submission materials, along with the last three years’ transaction data and audience ethnicity statistics, if they have it.”

Brandon, unable to contain his excitement, declared, “For my goddess, I’ll camp out at their door if I have to!”

At the cinema entrance, Eric and Catherine emerged. Eric opened the car door for her, and the two drove off to a nearby hotel.

Hawk checked the time. “Let’s grab dinner.”

Brandon’s stomach growled in agreement.

Ahead was the Alpine Pizza place. It was late, and the large space felt a bit empty.

Brandon led the way, pushing open the glass door. As they entered, two people eating near the entrance waved at him.

One of them gestured for Brandon to come over and said, “I just heard some explosive gossip about the film industry.”

Hawk suddenly felt a headache coming on.

Sure enough, the man continued, “Winona Ryder is a kleptomaniac—she steals male celebrities’ underwear!”

The other added, “Yeah, she stole Tom Cruise’s underwear, and that’s why Johnny Depp broke up with her.”

Hawk and Brandon exchanged a speechless glance before quickly distancing themselves and finding a table farther away.

Brandon shuddered. “The speed at which scandals spread is terrifying.”

“Even scarier is how they morph into different versions during the process,” Hawk replied. Thinking of Brandon’s loose lips, Hawk decided to secure them. “Our plan must stay secret. If it leaks, we won’t make a dime. You won’t have money to woo your girl, and she’ll end up bouncing happily in someone else’s arms!”

He twisted the knife further. “Picture her playing poker with one man after another while you can only watch from the sidelines.”

Brandon, naturally imaginative, conjured vivid scenes in his mind. Horrified, he clamped his mouth shut.

Hawk placed their order. The owner, Bill, knew Brandon well and brought their food over while chatting with them for a bit.

Brandon asked, “The festival’s started—how’s business been lately?”

Bill shook his head. “Same as usual. Most of my customers are regulars from the community.”

“I’m from out of town,” Hawk interjected to establish familiarity. “Your pizza, fried chicken, and fries are top-notch.”

Bill laughed happily. “Young man, you’ve got great taste in food.”

After the owner left, Hawk continued eating while chatting with Brandon about the community theater group, its meetups, and Brandon’s family.

True to form, Brandon’s mouth overflowed with words.@@novelbin@@

The next morning, Hawk woke up on time to exercise, determined to get his body into peak condition as soon as possible.

After a simple breakfast, Brandon headed out to the organizing committee to gather the materials.

As soon as he left the house, he bumped into Lewis.

“Did you and Hawk find anything yesterday?” Lewis asked.

“We…” Brandon started but stopped himself, the “lock” in his mind snapping into place. In his imagination, his goddess was crying out while surrounded by several men. His resolve held firm. “…haven’t found anything yet.”

Here’s the translation of the provided text:

Brandon coughed awkwardly, trying to cover up his clumsy conversational pivot. Waving Lewis off, he hurried toward the organizing committee.

Back at the house, Hawk borrowed Brandon’s laptop to search online for information about Castle Rock Entertainment, Rob Reiner, North American moviegoer demographics, and other publicly available Hollywood data.

After some time, Brandon returned with a thick stack of copied documents.

Hawk first reviewed the background information on Eric and Catherine, then sorted the materials into categories and recorded all relevant data.

Understanding the target and making precise preparations increased the chances of success.

Once he finished, Hawk pulled out the business card he’d gotten the previous night and called Eric. “Director Eason, we met last night and exchanged cards. I can help you solve the problem of viewers walking out early. Can we talk in person?”

After a moment of hesitation, Eric agreed.

Seeing Hawk hang up, Brandon asked, “What do I do now?”

Hawk packed his briefcase and replied, “Reach out to that lawyer your family’s used before. We might need him today.”

In a hotel’s business suite, Eric had been stewing in anxiety since the night before, so much so that he couldn’t even muster the energy to flatter Catherine.

Having sunk significant costs into the film, Catherine took her director boyfriend’s concerns seriously. “Castle Rock’s Rob Reiner will personally attend. He has independent purchasing authority. Our film will definitely make it to theaters.”

Eric, however, remained uneasy. “You saw the DV footage I took last night—so many viewers left early. If that happens again during the showcase, I can’t even imagine the consequences.”

Catherine recalled Castle Rock’s requirements. “Rob insisted on a public screening.”

Eric understood why. “I’ve heard from colleagues that Rob values direct audience feedback highly.”

Catherine frowned. “The film is well-made. Are those viewers out of their minds? Why leave early?”

“Someone just called and said they could fix this,” Eric said, glancing at the time. “I need to head down.”

He took the elevator to the second-floor café, where he met Hawk.

Eric still remembered him from the night before when they had exchanged cards.

Hawk got straight to the point. “I’ve learned from the committee that Castle Rock Entertainment’s VP of Operations, Rob Reiner, will arrive in Park City the morning after tomorrow. Your film’s screening is on his agenda.”

Eric saw no need to deny it. “That’s correct.”

“With all due respect, given the situation during last night’s screening, he’s likely to pass on your film,” Hawk said, referencing his research. “He places immense importance on audience feedback from the ground level.”

Mixing truth with a little fiction, Hawk continued, “For films with high walk-out rates, he doesn’t even finish watching them.”

Eric’s face froze, though he clung to a shred of hope. “That might not happen next time.”

“It absolutely will,” Hawk said with complete confidence.

“I disagree!” Eric countered, trying to bait Hawk into revealing more.

Hawk saw through the ploy but didn’t mind. “In this place, at this time, you won’t be able to solve this problem on your own.”

Eric asked directly, “So you’re offering to fix it for me?”

“I’m a media professional,” Hawk said smoothly. “Problem-solving is my specialty.”

Eric added with a touch of cynicism, “And charging fees too, I assume.”

Hawk neither confirmed nor denied it.

Eric wasn’t ready to give in. “Unless you tell me exactly what’s wrong, I won’t pay.”

Hawk pulled out the first set of documents and handed them to Eric. “Over the past three years, Mexicans have accounted for less than 3% of North American moviegoers. The largest demographic is white audiences, followed by Black audiences.”

Eric examined the data and thought back to the viewers who had walked out. “So white and Black audiences don’t like my film?”

Hawk responded bluntly. “They’re not interested in stories about Mexican communities or centered on Mexican characters.”

He produced a second document. “Here are the audience demographics for the past three festivals. The proportion of Mexicans in Park City is minuscule. Among visitors, Mexicans make up less than 2%. Your next audience will still be predominantly white.”

Eric thought he saw a solution. “Then I’ll focus on attracting more Mexican viewers.”

“That would kill your film even faster,” Hawk said, pointing to the first set of data.

Eric glanced again at the dismal statistics for Mexican audiences and muttered, “No studio would spend money on such a small audience.”

Hawk pressed on. “Even Robert Rodriguez, a Mexican director working in Hollywood, doesn’t use Mexican actors as leads in his Mexican-themed films. You’re a new director with no stars in your cast. Your film is low-budget and roughly made…”

Eric realized the problem seemed unsolvable.

Hawk spoke at an unhurried pace. “I can help you create the perfect audience environment: no one will leave early. Everyone will watch with enthusiasm, making Rob’s team feel the audience’s love for your film.”

Eric’s interest was piqued.

“I know what you’re thinking,” Hawk said calmly. “You could try hiring your own audience, right? But would movie buffs you pay stick through an entire screening? How much would it cost to overcome white audiences’ deeply ingrained biases? And do you think unorganized individuals can match the impact of a trained group?”

Hawk changed his tone. “I can provide you with a team of highly professional audience members. They’ve seen countless films, have extensive acting experience, and know exactly how to react emotionally to scenes, delivering the loudest applause when it’s most needed.”

“You’re saying… professional audiences?” Eric asked, struggling to process the idea. “Has the industry become so commercialized that even the audience is professionalized? And why haven’t I heard of this before?”

Hawk smiled confidently. “Because every time we succeed, the filmmakers or studios we help never mention us. They chalk it up to their film’s greatness and call it a triumph of cinema.”

Lowering his voice, Hawk added, “The Sundance Film Festival has been around for 18 years. If we ever messed up, word would’ve spread throughout the industry by now.”

Eric was swayed. Reflecting on it, he realized there was no chatter in the industry criticizing such practices.