weddingnovel Chapter 47 Los Angeles and Confirmed Franchise
Chapter 47 Los Angeles and Confirmed Franchise
During the more than ten-hour flight, Lin Ruiyang barely slept a wink in first class.
He kept flipping through the storyboard draft of "The Devil Wears Prada," which he had marked up extensively.
In this era, international flights are themselves a kind of cutting through time and space.
From the developing city of Yanjing, I landed in the extravagant city of Los Angeles. The palm trees outside the window and the Beverly Hills sign in the distance reflected a golden light called capital in the afternoon sun.
When Lin Ruiyang pushed his luggage cart out, Roger Sutherland was already leaning against the railing at the exit, waiting.
The senior agent from CAA had a mixture of anticipation and anxiety on his face.
"Lin, you look good." Roger helped take the luggage.
"But I have to give you a heads-up."
Kevin Huvane (Meryl Streep's longtime agent) is an extremely conservative guy, and his attitude towards this project is very ambiguous right now.
"Because of the pay?" Lin Ruiyang got into the car, pulled back the curtains, and looked at the street scene of Los Angeles.
"Not entirely. We can talk to Fox about the salary. Elizabeth has already agreed that a base salary of $400 million is not a problem as long as Meryl Streep is willing to act."
On the way from the airport to CAA headquarters, Roger briefly explained the situation from beginning to end while driving.
The meeting was not held in CAA's conference room, nor in a coffee shop.
Meryl's personal assistant informed Roger the day before that Meryl wanted to meet at a restaurant near her home.
This is good news, as they met Meryl in person first, rather than with her conservative agent.
As the car turned onto Sunset Boulevard, rows of palm trees leaned back outside the window. The glass building of CAA headquarters shone brightly in the afternoon sun.
This restaurant is tucked away on a quiet street in Santa Monica. There is no sign at the entrance, only an iron wall lamp. It is a small eatery that Meryl herself has mentioned countless times in interviews.
The choice of location itself sends a signal: this is not a business negotiation, at least not in her view.
She wanted to see what kind of talent this upstart director, who wanted to make it in Hollywood, was really made of, in her own home turf and in her own way.
Lin Ruiyang arrived at the restaurant fifteen minutes early. Sunlight streamed in obliquely through the floor-to-ceiling windows, dividing the tabletop into light and shadow.
He placed the script and storyboard on the darker half, then heard someone come in through the door.
Meryl Streep did not bring an assistant or agent.
She wore a beige linen shirt, her hair casually tucked behind her ears, looking no different from any other Santa Monica resident out for brunch on the weekend.
Lin Ruiyang stood up and extended his hand.
"Ms. Streep."
"Call me Meryl." She shook his hand lightly, then sat down opposite him.
You are younger than I thought.
I've heard that phrase many times.
"I believe you." She smiled, easing the tension.
The waiter came over to take her order. She ordered a black coffee, then pushed the menu aside, leaned forward slightly, and placed her hands folded on the table.
"I've read Roger's emails. I've also read your script. So, let's skip the formalities." She looked at him, her gaze revealing an instinctive search.
Lin Ruiyang didn't talk about the script directly, but instead took out a photo from his bag.
He found it in the library; it was a work photo of Meryl Streep from the 1970s when she first entered the film industry, her eyes revealing a sense of naivety and stubbornness.
(Before becoming famous in 1975)
(Still from the 1978 film The Deer Hunter)
"Ms. Streep, do you remember how you felt when this photo was taken?"
Meryl paused slightly, took the photo, and her eyes softened: "Back then... I only wanted to perform well in Shakespeare's stage plays; I felt that movies were just a side job."
"Back then, you were like Andy in the script. And now, you are Miranda." Lin Ruiyang looked directly into her eyes.
"Miranda wasn't born wearing Prada. She was once that girl in a cheap sweater, feeling awkward in an elevator. She just fought her way through, turning herself into a cog in this war machine."
"Miranda's harshness isn't because she's bad, but because she has to be precise. If she makes even the slightest mistake, everyone will pounce on her like vultures and tear her apart. So, she can't afford to have any unnecessary emotional fluctuations."
Lin Ruiyang opened the script and pointed to the famous monologue in the blue sweater.
"Many people think this scene is Miranda showing off her expertise. But in my opinion, it's Miranda declaring to the world:
You self-righteous intellectuals, the vanity you despise has sustained millions and formed the aesthetic foundation of modern society. You enjoy the fruits of my labor, yet you morally humiliate me?
Meryl's eyes changed; she took off her glasses and examined the lines seriously for the first time.
In the original draft, this dialogue was indeed more like a popular science explanation. But when Lin Ruiyang adapted it, he incorporated a lot of text about power and dignity.
"You must have felt this kind of loneliness when you received your second Oscar," Lin Ruiyang said softly.
"Those who stand at the top don't need the understanding of others, but they do need the respect of their fellow human beings."
"If I take this role, how do you plan to film me? I don't want to look like a crazy shrew on screen." Meryl put down the script, her tone revealing a hint of caution.
"I will use a lot of close-ups and minimalist physical movements." Lin Ruiyang quickly switched to director mode.
"Your voice will be very soft, like a whisper in your ear. Power doesn't need to roar; only the weak shout. And I will design a signature move for you:"
When you toss your coat on Andy's table, you're not just throwing away clothes; you're throwing away the weariness of the whole day and the last breath of humanity.
A brief silence fell between them.
Lin Ruiyang had held the coffee cup to his lips for almost half a minute, until Meryl raised her head again and said something that everyone could hear.
"Give me three days. I need to confirm my schedule with my agent. But we can continue negotiating."
"Your schedule will be arranged at your own pace. Feel free to contact me anytime if you need anything."
As I stepped out of that little restaurant in Santa Monica, the Pacific sea breeze, carrying a slightly salty and humid scent, hit me.
Roger Sutherland had been waiting under a palm tree outside the restaurant. His slightly anxious steps abruptly stopped the moment he saw Lin Ruiyang's expression.
"How is it?" Roger rushed over, his eyes full of urgency.
"Kevin just called me three times. He's going crazy. He thinks that you bypassing him and contacting Meryl directly is breaking the rules."
"Industry rules are set for those who have no voice." Lin Ruiyang opened the car door and got in, letting out a long sigh, a hint of undisguised sharpness showing between his brows.
Meryl said she had three days to confirm her availability.
"God..." Roger's fingers trembled slightly as he gripped the steering wheel. "Three days to confirm the schedule? That means she's already agreed. Lin, what kind of spell did you cast on her?"
"I just told her that Meryl doesn't need more awards; what she needs is a popular icon that can leave its mark on this era. And Miranda is that icon."
Rogge was silent for a moment, then let out a heartfelt exclamation.
He knew very well that in Hollywood, agents could decide which scripts an actor read, but at Meryl Streep's level, once she spoke up, even Kevin Julvani would have to obediently negotiate the details of a production contract that was originally considered too commercial.
"Next, we'll be facing the Fox board of directors." Roger started the car.
"Meryl's joining will be a huge bargaining chip, but they will still question whether a young person from China who comes from an art-house film background can handle the budget of a top Hollywood production."
"Then let them ask."
He had already figured this out on his flight to Los Angeles.
Fox's board of directors isn't Meryl Streep; they don't need to be moved, they just need to be persuaded in a language they understand, and the sponsorship offer in his hands is the answer.