The Wolf of Los Angeles

Chapter 16: The Applause Begins

As they entered the theater, Rob casually glanced around, noting the roughly 50% occupancy rate. Without heading to the front, he chose a seat in the last row and said to Katherine and Eric, “Sit wherever you like. No need to accompany me.”

The two exchanged a few words and settled across the aisle.

Rob removed his wool coat, noticing many audience members in the front rows sipping coffee. Turning to his assistant, he said, “Simon, get me a cup of coffee.”

Simon approached the concession stand and saw paper cups filled with instant coffee on display. “Is this all you’ve got?” he asked.

“That’s all,” Mason replied, adding, “It’s complimentary. The director paid for it.”

He handed over a cup and asked, “How many do you need?”

Simon took one and returned to the auditorium, explaining to Rob, “The coffee’s instant, provided by the production team.”

Rob took a sip and remarked, “Using coffee to attract an audience—clever.”

This was routine for him. The four assistants left to distribute the forms.

With the doors closed, the screening began.

In the third row, Hawk received a questionnaire and a pen as well. The form was a simple post-screening evaluation, with a maximum score of five stars.

Satisfied that everything was on track, Hawk relaxed. Regardless of the final outcome, this venture was already a financial success for him.

Energized by the strong coffee and motivated by promises of a free meal and cash rewards, most audience members were engrossed in the movie, even though it was filled with Mexican characters.

One older girl yawned out of boredom, only to receive a furious glare from her younger sister, who clearly saw it as jeopardizing her own allowance. The older girl immediately straightened up and focused on the screen.

Across the aisle, the bearded man noticed someone in front slumping sideways. With a swift kick to the seat below, the sloucher sat bolt upright.

Simon chose a seat and occasionally glanced at the audience. Though the movie’s focus on Mexican culture didn’t interest him much, he was surprised by how attentive the nearby white audience members were, their eyes glued to the screen.

This wasn’t unusual for the other assistants. They’d often found that films they didn’t personally enjoy were embraced by audiences post-purchase.

Rob, meanwhile, barely touched his coffee once the movie started.

The story unfolded neatly, following a classic three-act structure. Its themes of redemption, family, and friendship were all staples beloved by Hollywood and American audiences. Despite the low-budget production, the film held its own against similar projects from major Hollywood studios.

The only lingering question in Rob’s mind was: why wasn’t the protagonist white?

Movies like this hadn’t crossed his path in years. The last time, many audience members had walked out early.

But this time, no one left early, much to his surprise.

From his vantage point in the last row, Rob observed a captivated audience, with even bathroom trips kept to a minimum.

As the film neared its conclusion, Rob pondered the changing times. Was this increased engagement due to the progress of civil rights movements? Or perhaps the movie’s depiction of drug issues in underprivileged communities resonated deeply with the audience?

Up front, Katherine breathed a sigh of relief. Not only had the audience stayed through to the end, but so had Rob.

The atmosphere wasn’t explosive, but the quiet focus of the viewers was a success in itself. Katherine started feeling hopeful that the film’s rights could be sold, recouping the investment and potentially yielding profits.

She stole a glance at Eric. While her boyfriend excelled at groveling, he clearly had real skills that could elevate her professional standing.@@novelbin@@

As the film ended and the credits began rolling, Hawk was the first to clap. Those around him followed suit, and soon the entire theater was filled with applause.

Hawk stood first, clapping as he rose. Following prior coordination, others stood as well, creating a wave of standing ovations.

From the back left, Larson stood, prompting those around him to rise and clap.

Elsewhere, the four deputies, Brandt, the bearded man, and others stood in succession. Soon, the entire audience was on their feet, clapping fervently.

The applause continued—half a minute, then a full minute.

Katherine, recalling Hawk’s advice, tugged Eric’s arm. “You idiot, go take a bow!”

District Heights didn’t have a full cast to present; Eric was the only one there, both director and representative.

Unused to such attention, Eric hesitated, overwhelmed by the applause. He stumbled slightly as he rushed to the front of the theater.

Hawk, assuming it was a deliberate act, silently admired how it added to the authenticity.

For a rookie director, such a reaction—shock, excitement, nervousness—felt genuine.

Standing before the audience, Eric bowed deeply.

Hawk intensified his applause, prompting those around him to do the same.

The clapping grew louder and more enthusiastic.

Eric straightened up, bowing again.

Hawk glanced at his phone in the cup holder—less than four minutes had passed. There was no rush.

The applause continued.

The contagious atmosphere reached the back, where Rob stood and began clapping softly.

For Rob, the criteria for a good movie were simple: if the audience loved it, it was commercially viable.

Historically, films receiving such applause at festivals often achieved significant success.

Meanwhile, Larson and the bearded man exchanged glances, silently cursing Hawk.

Their hands hurt from clapping for so long.

Up front, Eric bowed again, his thoughts racing. When will this end? Are they trying to clap their hands raw?

At precisely six minutes, Hawk stopped clapping and sat down, signaling others to do the same.

The applause gradually subsided as everyone took their seats.

Hawk reflected briefly—six minutes was modest. In five or six years, such extended applause would become a business strategy at major European film festivals, sometimes lasting over ten minutes.

“Thank you! Thank you!” Eric shouted his gratitude.

Another round of applause broke out.

As the audience began filing out, Rob’s assistants stationed by the exit collected as many questionnaires as possible to get immediate feedback.

Simon, busy gathering forms, was interrupted by the bearded man, who whispered, “Got a question for you. You’re from Hollywood, right? Ever heard about Winona Ryder stealing the underwear Bill wore in Zippergate?”

The question left Simon dumbfounded. How could I, an industry insider, know less than a random film fan?

Nearby, Hawk hurriedly handed off his questionnaire and slipped away.

As the crowd exited, they headed enthusiastically for Alpine Pizza.

With his tasks complete, Hawk joined them at the pizzeria.

True to his word, he handed out the $10 rewards in cash, pre-exchanged by Bill.

This group would likely be useful again later in the festival.

The bearded man approached Hawk, handing him a beer and toasting. “Buddy, here’s to you!”

Hawk took a swig, clinked cans with him, and then did the same with the quietly reflective Brandt.

Brandt suddenly remembered something—the $1,000 gathering cost had ultimately fallen onto George Hanson.