Chapter 24: The Overbearing Fat Pig
Yes—just like Jimmy had said, Wayne himself couldn't imagine that his lower half was worth even a million dollars.
Meanwhile, Luke was thoroughly immersed in the joy of screening the film. Since the afternoon, each showing had drawn two or three dozen viewers. Watching the audience from the back row, Luke's grin had practically fused with his face.
Wayne, however, was thinking about the man he'd be meeting tonight. At this point in time, even though that man hadn't yet begun his infamous manipulation of the Oscars, to people like Wayne, he was already a big deal.
The name Harvey Weinstein triggered very mixed reactions in Wayne's mind. In his previous life, he'd read a lot about the infamous Hollywood producer—a man both revered and reviled, with no shortage of polarized commentary.
Some called him a master manipulator—and from the perspective of those who'd dealt with him, they weren't wrong.
Others praised him as a successful producer, savvy businessman, and visionary in independent cinema. That was also true. He had personally launched several Best Actress Oscar winners and produced countless low-budget indie films.
He also discovered talents like Quentin Tarantino and Robert Rodriguez, giving many small-time directors their first real chance. Even after his downfall in the #MeToo movement, some celebrities still tried to protect him, using personal connections to suppress negative press.
**He was a complex figure—**the textbook Jewish capitalist. Wayne had done his homework. In some ways, Harvey was the very image of a self-absorbed tyrant—not the kind of man anyone could feel good about.
After all, the things he'd done—especially to women—were disgusting. Forcing himself on actresses, then turning his back like nothing happened… he'd done it too many times to count.
---
At 8 PM, after calling Tali, Wayne and his two companions brought the film reel and took a cab to the Hilton Hotel.
Tali was waiting at the entrance. She guided them straight to a conference room on the seventh floor, where a screening setup had already been prepared.
Once the film started rolling, Wayne and Luke sat behind the projector, silently observing the man across the room—the legendary studio head known for his ruthless eye and sharp instincts. Unsurprisingly, the big fat man barely spared a glance in Wayne's direction, not even bothering to let Tali introduce them.
He was the stereotypical overbearing Jewish tycoon. One look at him made Wayne instinctively uneasy. His sheer arrogance radiated off him like static. This guy was clearly trouble.
Still, if he could offer a better deal, Wayne honestly didn't care who he sold the film to or who he partnered with. Business was business.
As the film neared its end, with the female lead breaking free from the ritual loop and finally kissing the male protagonist, Luke turned on the lights in the meeting room.
"Mr. Weinstein—" Jimmy began, but was immediately cut off by Harvey.
"Sorry, could you step outside for a moment? I need to discuss something with Tali."
Jimmy shrugged and nodded, motioning for Wayne and Luke to follow him out into the hallway.
---
"Jimmy, is he always this arrogant? I didn't hear any apology when he asked us to leave," Luke grumbled as he paced back and forth.
"Luke, Wayne, you have to understand—we're not on the same level as him right now. Don't let it get to you. Just think about all the work you put into this movie. If he's willing to buy and distribute it, then forget the attitude. Don't turn your back on a bag of money," Jimmy said earnestly.
Wayne nodded silently. Jimmy was worried the younger guys might blow the deal over pride—and honestly, he had a point. It was for their own good.
The three of them huddled up outside, quietly discussing how to negotiate if the offer came.
---
Inside the room, Harvey and Tali were having their own quiet discussion.
"Tali, good work. This film has potential," Harvey said, rubbing his thick fingers together. "But since this is a rookie director's debut and it's a niche horror-thriller, we need to drive the price down. Buy it outright."
"I agree," Tali nodded. "There's nothing major wrong with the film. In fact, the selling points are clear, and the design is clever. Should I bring them in?"
At Harvey's nod, she went to the door and called the trio back in. Wayne took a seat across from the infamous producer.
"Director Garfield," Harvey said without preamble, "$1 million. That's my offer—for full ownership of the film. I'll get it into theaters. If you're in, we can sign tonight."
Before Wayne could even open his mouth, the fat man across the table made a domineering offer. After hearing him out, Wayne shook his head and replied firmly:
"That's impossible, Mr. Weinstein. Your offer isn't even close. I'm not selling at a loss—and there are other companies offering far more than you."
Weinstein had only been testing the waters. Despite his confident tone, even he knew this young director would never agree. Now that he looked closer at the person sitting across from him, he finally realized just how young he was.
No more than his early twenties—maybe not even out of college yet. Harvey quickly sized him up: someone who had likely poured every last cent into making this film. Clearly impulsive, but talented—a typical idealist.
"Alright then, $1.3 million," Harvey said, shifting tactics. "Let's be honest—your film didn't cost that much to make. But I'm being sincere here. I promise to put it in theaters. This must be your first film, right? Having a debut project shown in cinemas—that's a huge milestone for a new director. I don't think I need to explain what that means."
Wayne looked at him with quiet disappointment. So this was how he played it—using dreams to drive the price down, robbing you in broad daylight while pretending to do you a favor. Even if he agreed, he could never trust someone like Harvey. His shamelessness was practically legendary in the industry.
"I'm sorry, that'll be all for today. I'll take some time to think about it. Goodbye, Mr. Weinstein. Ms. Tali."
Wayne had no interest in wasting another word. This was the kind of man who would squeeze every cent out of a deal—never giving, never caring. Clearly, he'd been too optimistic.
He picked up the reel and walked out of the room with Luke and Jimmy.
"Director Garfield," Weinstein suddenly called out behind them, "$1.5 million. I'll guarantee at least ten theaters for the release. That's my final offer. Walk out that door and the deal's off."
Wayne paused for just a moment—but didn't even bother turning around. He walked out without a word. Weinstein wasn't the only buyer out there. Luke disliked him, and Wayne felt the same. That arrogant pig wasn't worth their time.
---
The outcome was far from ideal. Outside, the three regrouped and considered potential alternatives. Jimmy suggested they go back to Touchstone and renegotiate—their initial offer had already been better than Weinstein's.
Wayne wasn't in a hurry. It was only the second day of the festival. There would be more opportunities.
Just as he'd hoped, by noon on the fourth day of the festival, Tom from Castle Rock Entertainment brought over their distribution manager. They were interested in talking.
Wayne and Jimmy met them at a table outside Starbucks. Once drinks were ordered, the real conversation began.
"Director Garfield, I'm Edward from Castle Rock's distribution department. Tom told me about the film, and actually, Jennings mentioned it to me as well. After watching it today, I agree with them—this project has strong potential. So, I'll get straight to the point."
"We're prepared to offer $2.5 million for North American rights, and we'll ensure a prompt release. On top of that, if the film earns double its production budget at the box office, you'll receive a performance bonus. I believe that's a very sincere offer. What do you think?"
Hmm... it still wasn't quite Wayne's ideal number, but it was by far the most genuine offer he'd received so far.
"I accept, but I want to retain overseas and sequel rights. I plan to make a sequel to this film."
That was the only condition he raised. Others might not understand, but Wayne knew exactly what he was doing. Even if the buyout price was modest, retaining international and sequel rights could turn this into a goldmine. In his previous life, this film had spawned several sequels.
In industry-standard deals, distribution companies typically acquired North American theatrical rights only—a widely accepted practice. Wayne had already prepared for this. He wasn't naive enough to dream of a traditional revenue-share agreement—not at his level. That would've been pure fantasy.
Even if they did offer such a deal, Wayne wouldn't trust it. These Hollywood firms had no qualms about screwing over Wall Street investors—never mind a young no-name director like him.
"Agreed, Director Garfield. That covers the main terms. You can bring your lawyer to our hotel tomorrow to finalize the paperwork. If everything checks out, we'll sign the contract then."
Wayne finally let out a breath of relief. After shaking Edward's hand, he returned to the screening hall and collapsed into a chair.
The pressure of the past few days had been immense—but it was finally over. Watching the audience, he smiled to himself. It was their reaction that gave him the confidence—he was sure the people who had dismissed his film would be in for a surprise.
---
The next morning, Wayne picked up his lawyer, Ryan, from the airport and headed straight to the hotel where Castle Rock are staying. In a fourth-floor meeting room, he chatted casually with Tom and Luke while Ryan reviewed the contract.
Just then, a Castle Rock staffer rushed in and whispered something to Edward, pulling him out of the room.
Ryan finished reviewing the contract, gave Wayne a nod of approval, and just as Wayne lifted his pen to sign, Edward burst back in and stopped him.
"I'm sorry, Director Garfield. The deal is off. Castle Rock has decided not to purchase the film. You're free to take it elsewhere. Hopefully, we can work together in the future."
Everyone in the room froze. Edward's sudden about-face was a shock.
"Mr. Edward," Wayne said, keeping his voice steady, "can you at least tell me why? I deserve an explanation."
He forced himself to stay calm. Just minutes ago, Edward had been all smiles—now he was cold and businesslike. Something had clearly happened.
"There's no reason, Director Garfield. I'm sorry. That's all for today—I have other work to attend to."
With a glance at Tom, Edward turned and walked out of the meeting room.