April 2007, Los Angeles, CA, USA
"I'll tell you why."
I looked from Evan to see Dad standing a few feet away with a neutral expression on his face.
"They're jealous of you."
"All of them are jealous of me?" I asked incredulously. "That doesn't make much sense, Dad."
"Of course it does," Dad said, emphasizing each word as he sat across from me. He then looked at Evan and added, "First of all, let me assure you, Evan, the film was edited masterfully. The way you built suspense and switched between wide shots and close-ups was inspiring. Even I couldn't have done a better job. So don't take it personally. Any filmmaker worth their salt would recognize the wonderful job you've done."
Evan looked a little relieved to hear that.
"We all know Evan did a great job," I said. "That's why Paramount selected his cut over the other, more experienced editor. I'm still hung up on that jealousy part. Do they criticize my performance in their reviews?"
Dad sighed. "No. And that's exactly what gave away the fact that they wanted to give the film a bad review just for the sake of it. You know how much people love to tear down the successful. I read one that said something like: Troy was good, David was good, all the other side characters were good, the suspense and jump scares were good, and the story was okay-ish. Then they gave the film a two-star rating."
That didn't sound good for the film. Ratings like that can hurt the box office unless there's strong word of mouth.
"You have to keep in mind, Troy, the level of success you've seen in your film career, which started just eight years ago, isn't normal. No other actor has had this kind of run. After so long without a flop, critics are eager to bring something down."
My feature film career started in 1999 with the release of [The Sixth Sense]. Sure, I was working even before that, but 1999 was the year the world really took notice of me.
"Is someone behind this sabotage?" I asked. "Is there a conspiracy against me?"
Dad shook his head. "I don't think so. I could hire an investigative team to dig around, but it's unlikely they'd find anything concrete. Mere jealousy is not enough here. Had you delivered another masterpiece, they'd be forced to recognize it. The most probable reason they didn't is that your films have created sky-high expectations for fans and critics alike. They were expecting something groundbreaking and jaw-dropping, and what they got was an unofficial remake that was above average at best."
With the way Dad explained it, I no longer had the luxury of doing a film just because I liked it. That had been the only reason I said yes to [Disturbia]. I remembered watching it in my past life and liking the overall theme and premise. I knew no one was stopping me from making a film like that, but I didn't want to drag it down just because I was in it.
Would it still earn good money? Probably. But my name will only keep selling films for so long before people stop showing up. I have to continue delivering top-notch work if I want to stay at the top of the Hollywood leaderboard eternally.
"It's not as bad as you're making it out to be," Dad interrupted my train of thought. "The film could've done much worse. And honestly, I think you putting out an average film might help you in the long run. People will see that you're not as perfect as the media makes you out to be. And remember—it's just the critics who've spoken so far, not the audience. The CinemaScore rating hasn't come out yet."
I nodded silently. While I knew the audience had always supported my films, that trust only lasted as long as I kept delivering good movies.
Thinking back to when I chose [Disturbia] over other projects like [Iron Man] and [Transformers], I couldn't help but feel like it had been a stupid decision. My biggest justification was that [Disturbia] was the best option I could wrap quickly to finish my three-picture deal with Paramount. A big-budget film could have taken up to a year, preventing me from doing [Superbad] or [The Night Of], both of which I truly loved.
"Let's forget about it," Dad said, changing the subject. "We can't change the past. Let's focus on what's ahead. How's the production of your other films going in Canada?"
"It's good," I said. "[Juno] has wrapped, and they'll probably show me the first cut within a month. [Twilight], on the other hand…"
"What's the issue?" Dad asked.
I hesitated, unsure if I should tell him. I didn't want another lecture about taking on too much at once.
"Yes?" Dad prompted, glancing at Evan, who was present on set much more than me.
"It isn't that bad," Evan jumped in. "There was a massive snowstorm that shut down production for a few weeks. We couldn't do anything about it."
"You could have," I cut in. "If you or Tobias had more experience with production, you could've solved it before it became a problem. If I'd been there, I would've packed everything and moved to Washington to shoot there temporarily, at least the exterior shots."
"It's easy to say that when you're thousands of miles away," Evan shot back.
"Boys," Dad said firmly, cutting in before turning to me. "What did I tell you about remote film production?"
I looked away, not wanting another lecture.
Dad sighed. "Son, I know you want to succeed in multiple avenues, but sometimes you have to give up control to get what you really want. If you'd hired a full-time producer besides Tobias, this could've gone a lot smoother. He's good, but he's just one man."
The worst part was that Dad had offered to co-produce the film, and I'd turned him down in my arrogance.
"I can still help your team," Dad offered again. "Just say the word. We won't start shooting the seventh [Harry Potter] until next year, so I have plenty of time to get this out of the way."
The seventh Harry Potter production had not even begun because the last book hadn't come out yet. Rowling had declined to share her manuscript in advance to prevent leaks. That's why the shooting can only begin next year.
I almost declined Dad's offer again, but then I thought about it logically. I still had one week left to finish shooting [The Night Of], and after that, I'd be busy prepping for [The Dark Knight]. When I spoke to Tobias a few days ago, he'd asked me to come help with some logistical issues. With Dad there, all my worries would vanish, and I could focus entirely on acting without stressing over [Twilight].
"It would be great if you could take over, Dad," I said gratefully.
Dad gave me a brief smile before asking, "Will you go back to London now that your film and album promotion is over?"
"Yeah," I agreed. "I just have a couple of meetings to get out of the way."
(Break)
"[Disturbia] is an avoidable mess of a film. The only saving grace is the acting, especially Troy Armitage and David Morse, who plays the film's main antagonist, but that can only take the film so far. I give it one and a half stars out of five."
Austin heard the latest review of [Disturbia] on the radio as he drove his father's car. He loved suspense thrillers, but an average one like this didn't seem worth watching, even if it starred Harry Potter himself in the lead.
Just then, his girlfriend Marissa changed the channel, and a new song by Troy Armitage started playing on the radio.
[Counting Stars - OneRepublic]
~Lately, I been, I been losin' sleep
Dreamin' about the things that we could be
But, baby, I been, I been prayin' hard
Said, no more countin' dollars, we'll be countin' stars
Yeah, we'll be countin' stars~
He started tapping the steering wheel to the rhythm as he drove further toward their destination. The windows were down, and the fresh countryside air was exactly what he needed in that moment.
"Man, this Troy fella churns out banging songs like crazy," Austin said idly when the song ended. "I think I'll buy his new album."
"Can we go see [Disturbia] please?" Marissa asked out of the blue. "Instead of that action flick that you already watched 10 times?"
"Why?" Austin asked, confused. "Didn't you just hear the review? They said it's a terrible film."
"My friend Eve just saw it and says it's good—way better than what the critics are saying." Marissa turned her phone to show a text from Eve.
"Of course, the critics are wrong," Austin joked. "The film company must've forgotten to pay them this time."
"So?" Marissa asked again. "Can we go?"
"Sure, babe. Anything for you," Austin agreed.
They had originally planned to rewatch [300], but he didn't mind going to see [Disturbia] instead. He was a simple man. As long as Marissa made out with him during the film, he was good.
Getting to the theater wasn't as bad as getting the tickets. Since it was Friday, the place was jam-packed with people lining up to watch their favorite films.
"Didn't the film receive bad reviews from the critics? Why is it, then, that most people are here to see [Disturbia]?" Austin asked in confusion after getting tickets for the next show, which would start in fifteen minutes.
"Troy Armitage," Marissa replied, as if it made perfect sense. "He and his team are geniuses when it comes to marketing."
Austin raised an eyebrow inquisitively.
"Didn't you watch his Punk'd episode that dropped two days ago?" Marissa asked rhetorically. When Austin shook his head, she launched into the explanation.
"It was so funny," she grinned. "Troy looked like he was about to shit his pants when they handcuffed him. And the way he started cursing out Scarlett Johansson and Ryan Gosling when he found out it was a prank—" Marissa burst into laughter. "It was too damn funny. You should watch it on YouTube. They've uploaded it there too."
Austin was now intrigued. Punk'd was one of his favorite MTV shows—he must've missed this week's episode.
"That's not all," Marissa continued. "He tied his album release to the movie. One of his music videos, 'Golden Hour,' featured him and Scarlett—and they looked fab together. He also released a special film version of the album. On the back was a scratch code, and when you entered it on his website, you got a chance to attend his movie premiere. The best part? He met every winner personally and shot a video with each of them. All of it got uploaded to YouTube later. I don't know how that website's algorithm works, but Troy's videos are always at the top. His movies get tons of free publicity because of that."
Austin's eyes lit up in recognition. "I know that one. YouTube recently started a program where creators can pay to have their videos featured on the homepage. I'm sure someone like Troy can afford that easily."
Austin's father ran a marketing firm, and often talked about his work with him. So he knew about some of the newer digital marketing strategies emerging online.
"That must be it," Marissa nodded.
Right then, the theater doors opened, and the duo were let in. They weren't alone—the entire theater was nearly packed.
Two Hours Later
"Holy shit! That movie was fire!" Austin said, grinning ear to ear. "I don't get what those fucking critics want in a movie. It had everything—great acting, action, suspense, thrills, and romance. Not to mention, ScarJo in a bikini."
Marissa smiled at his enthusiasm—until the last part. "You're not watching it again, you pervert."
Austin immediately backtracked. "I didn't mean it like that, babe. You're way more beautiful than her. I'm just saying—objectively. I didn't enjoy that part, but other guys probably would."
"I know exactly what you meant, you liar," Marissa replied with a sharp look.
Before Austin could dig himself a deeper hole, a man stepped in front of them.
"Hi! I'm with CinemaScore, doing a quick survey for the movie you just watched. Wanna participate? You'll get free pens!" the man said in a single breath, smiling brightly.
Austin looked at Marissa, who shrugged. They each took a response sheet and a pen. As Austin was about to fill his out, Marissa leaned in and hissed, "Don't you dare give anything but A+. The film's gotten enough hate already."
"That's what I was going to put," Austin said defensively, quickly scribbling down an A+—a score he felt the film truly deserved.
(Break)
CinemaScore is a website that evaluates films based on surveys conducted with real audiences, which is why their ratings typically appear a few days after a film's release. While Rotten Tomatoes and Metacritic gave [Disturbia] lukewarm reviews, CinemaScore flipped the narrative, awarding the film a glowing A rating on its A+ to F scale. The gap between critical reception and audience response couldn't have been clearer.
From their internal screenings, Paramount already suspected that the film would benefit from strong word-of-mouth. Banking on that, they launched the movie on 3,653 screens across the U.S.—its largest market. Industry analysts had projected an opening weekend haul of $30–35 million, and [Disturbia] landed squarely within range, pulling in $32.3 million.
In the following weekends, [Disturbia] earned $18.9 million, $13.1 million, and $8.5 million, respectively. The best part was its staying power. Despite releasing in the second week of April, the film continued pulling in millions each week through the end of June. By the close of its theatrical run, [Disturbia] had raked in $124 million domestically.
While it's true that a lesser-known actor might have earned the film more favorable reviews, it likely would've made far less money. International distributors snapped up Troy Armitage's films without hesitation—often at premium rates—because of his global appeal.
[Disturbia] delivered strong box office numbers across key markets: the UK, Spain, France, Germany, Japan, Italy, Mexico, Brazil, South Korea, and Australia. These countries, where Troy's films typically performed well, each brought in over $4 million. Altogether, the international box office contributed $86 million, bringing the film's global total to a staggering $210 million.
Though not as high as Troy's most recent hits (except [Brick]), it was an undeniable success, especially for a film made on a modest $25 million budget.
From a profitability standpoint, after accounting for theater cuts, Paramount walked away with approximately $100 million. Of that, $25 million went toward marketing, $21 million was paid to Troy, and around $10 million was allocated to other key contributors, including the writers, producers, and director. That left the studio with an estimated $44 million in net profit.
Troy's $21 million backend payout, combined with his $5 million upfront salary, brought his total compensation for the film to a whopping $26 million.
(Break)
I sat across from a man I'd wanted to meet for what felt like forever. And now that I was finally here, I didn't know where to begin.
"Well," James Cameron prompted, his eyes curious. "My assistant tells me you were eager to have this meeting. Go on, then. How can I help you?"
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AN: Visit my Pat reon to read ahead, or check out my second Hollywood story set in the 80s.
Link: www(dot)pat reon(dot)com/fableweaver