Chapter Thirty-Two: Summer Blockbuster? What Are You Thinking!

Although a 45% revenue share is somewhat exploitative, it’s not entirely intolerable. The real issue was the subsequent terms, which were even more outrageous—nearly all of the proceeds from video rentals would be swallowed up. Fine, that too could be endured. But only two hundred screens? That was simply absurd, and even that number wasn’t guaranteed. A summer release slot? Absolutely impossible—the release was scheduled for November, and even that wasn’t certain.

At this point, negotiations were simply impossible. After all of them had seen the film sample, while it might not have been breathtaking, it certainly wasn't so dreadful as to warrant such treatment. United Artists was a company with significant distribution power; more than half their profits came from film distribution—a business that was as reliable as a perennial spring. Hollywood is a small world, and the journalists there didn’t miss a chance to kick someone when they were down. When it came to William White’s film, they left no stone unturned in their efforts to smear it.

Such actions clearly touched a nerve with someone. Information about internal screenings was not supposed to be known outside, and even if the news did leak, reporting it was absolutely forbidden.

Naturally, William White refused to take this lying down. Not only did he sue several media outlets, but he also filed an arbitration request with the Fair Trade Commission. Not content with monopolizing distribution channels, the Hollywood giants took to wantonly disparaging a competitor’s film and leaking internal screening details—actions that clearly violated the most basic standards of professional ethics.

The Hollywood giants never expected to run into such a hothead. Pressuring a new company was their standard procedure—nothing unusual. But now, the situation was different. White was clearly raising the stakes. As soon as United Artists’ proposal was made public, the industry was in an uproar. Thirty percent was already excessive—forty-five percent was blatant robbery.

Ordinarily, they could get away with it, but now someone was not letting go, and that made things complicated. The Fair Trade Commission would have to make a ruling on this case. White had already made it clear: “You can collude all you like; we’re prepared to go straight to the Justice Department.”

For a new company to go head-to-head with Hollywood’s three major giants—the spectators were dumbfounded. No one had ever seen such a reckless challenger.

United Artists was completely blindsided; they were being held to the fire. They could already guess how the Fair Trade Commission would rule—once entangled with this crowd, countless troubles would follow.

Regardless of their internal struggles, William White embarked on another bold initiative: he planned to rent three hundred cinemas for a month.

You should know that a cinema might have several screens—on average, at least two. That meant six hundred screens in total. Even the Hollywood giants only managed that, unless you were releasing something like Superman.

Hollywood had never seen such a direct approach. Between the lines, his message was clear: if push came to shove, he’d simply acquire a few theater chains and overhaul their management. Apart from the circuits in which the Hollywood giants held stakes, the smaller chains weren’t beyond his reach—a purchase was just a matter of will.

Times had changed. Now, banks were eager to lend to him. The dozens of New York banks that had turned him down were now filled with regret, their names bywords for industry blunders.

Hollywood’s dramatic showdown naturally attracted the media’s curiosity. Talk about William White was once again the hottest topic.

“I believe it’s wholly inappropriate for Hollywood to be controlled by a minority. There’s a lack of even the barest fairness—you need to wear a little round cap to negotiate, otherwise no one will pay you any attention. Unfortunately, I like my cowboy hat and have no intention of changing my beliefs.”

With the media fanning the flames, these remarks instantly ignited the entire country. Not only did he seem intent on fueling North-South antagonism, he was also dragging religion into the fray.

Hollywood now had a visceral sense of his destructive power. The matter wasn’t even settled yet, and the entire team responsible for White Pictures had already been fired.

The industry’s underdogs were thrilled, waving their flags and banners—William White was clearly the new standard-bearer.

The Hollywood giants’ leader was furious. Making money was important, but promoting their values was even more so. Now someone was playing hardball—they had better handle this properly, or lives might be lost.

This was no small matter now; theater owners dared not act out. White was a hard-headed troublemaker, openly challenging them. He was offering a guaranteed minimum—if they still weren’t satisfied, he threatened to take them all down with him.

The three giants were beset by troubles. Now they wanted to negotiate—United Artists was in over its head. Investigations were not going in their favor; one misstep and they’d be the scapegoats for the entire industry.

William White had made his position clear: there would be no further cooperation. At most, he’d leave Hollywood, but he was determined to teach them a lesson.

The greatest complication was public opinion. William White now had overwhelming support—many interviewees declared they would back his film no matter what.

Meanwhile, box office returns from other major releases were slumping—the Hollywood winter seemed to have come early.

For a time, William White could walk through Hollywood with impunity. No one would dare provoke this madman. He’d already said Maupassant was his favorite author, and he planned to study him closely.

To some, this was an overt threat. In Maupassant’s novels, they were synonymous with greed and miserliness. The great writer’s vivid portrayals were unforgettable.

Those who understood grasped the message: “I’m a bestselling author myself—believe I can keep blackening your names.”

The old powers behind the scenes were in turmoil. This was a warning: don’t try any underhanded tricks. The three companies needed to be taught a lesson—but if they went too far, the consequences would be severe.

Most importantly, he would start the fire, but the cleanup was their responsibility—they should not expect him to endorse their efforts.

Hollywood insiders might fear the giants, but students and the young did not. The current films were considered garbage anyway, and in California and Texas, various groups were boycotting Hollywood to different degrees.

Everyone was now rebelling against the mainstream; the giants had become prime targets. The worsening economy only amplified these social tensions.

In such a sensitive moment, United Artists’ actions amounted to courting disaster. The so-called Fair Trade Commission was easily swayed by public opinion, so the outcome was a foregone conclusion.

Soon, industry insiders revealed that William White was being suppressed for another reason—the real aim was to acquire the film and television rights to Forrest Gump.

After being refused, the giants’ retaliation and efforts to teach him a lesson were inevitable. The film was actually of high quality; the current predicament was the result of deliberate suppression. If William White compromised and sold the rights at a bargain, all the pressure would instantly vanish.

For a time, public opinion was in an uproar.

Such tactics were common in Hollywood—you could do it, but never let it become public knowledge. This already crossed the line of acceptable conduct. The uproar over deliberate suppression surged again, impossible to contain this time—the media had no desire to be dragged down as collateral damage.

If this guy turned his guns on the press, chaos would truly reign, and there would be no way to clean up the mess.