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🕑 Added 2025-06-05 16:41:18 +0000 UTCChapter 1486: A Small Favor
The atmosphere felt a little… delicate.
Jeff had brought up the idea of collaboration twice now, and both times, Anson shot it down.
No matter the reasoning, a rejection was a rejection. The funny thing? Anson was the one who’d actively come to negotiate today, and yet he was also the one refusing to play ball. It made the whole situation kind of amusing.
Still, Anson didn’t seem fazed or awkward about it. Instead, he cracked a small smile and tossed out a joke. “So, if I asked Warner Bros. to release the hostages right now, you guys wouldn’t be interested, huh?”
Jeff snapped out of his thoughts and looked up. “No, wait—actually, that’d be fine. Anson Wood showing up in person? No matter what’s going on, I’d have to give you that courtesy.”
This time, Anson was genuinely caught off guard.
No strings attached, no conditions—Warner Bros. was just handing it over?
Objectively speaking, it wasn’t like Warner Bros. had a deal locked in with Sin City or The Hangover. Both sides were in a free-for-all competition anyway. So, rather than calling it a concession, it was more like Warner Bros. stepping back politely—a different kind of strategic move.
Even so, Anson didn’t hide his surprise. “So, after The Butterfly Effect, this is the second time I owe someone a favor.”
Jeff let out a hearty laugh. “The more successful you get, the more valuable those two favors become. Trust me, Warner Bros. is keeping better track of that than you are.”
Anson’s shoulders slumped dramatically, like he couldn’t handle the pressure anymore.
Jeff grinned even wider, then paused to think. “But maybe you could do me a small favor now.”
Anson raised an eyebrow. “I don’t really have a choice here, do I?”
Jeff wiped the smile off his face on purpose. “Nope.”
…
Creak.
Anson pushed open the door in front of him, his eyes full of confusion.
What he saw was a storage room—or maybe a warehouse. Eight shelves stood neatly lined up, not much different from a supermarket stockroom.
On the shelves were stacks of booklets, perfectly organized. It felt less like a warehouse and more like a library.
Then it hit him. Anson turned to Jeff with a stunned look.
Jeff nodded, confirming his guess. “Yep, exactly what you’re thinking. This is our project vault. It’s full of pitches looking for investment but haven’t gotten the green light yet. This is our biggest treasure.”
For producers, directors, and agents, this was the holy grail—a room they’d kill to get into but could never find the door to.
Every top-tier movie studio had one of these, stuffed with countless hidden gems just waiting to be unearthed.
In Hollywood, Anson had heard about these treasure rooms more than once or twice. But standing in one now, he realized his imagination hadn’t done justice to the depth of a top-tier studio’s resources.
It was overwhelming—dazzling, almost too much to take in.
A quick glance around, and there was no way to even guess how many projects were in here.
Jeff made an inviting gesture, his smile growing. “Hey, buddy, what do you think of this little favor?”
Anson didn’t bother hiding his shock. “You sure about this? It’s like letting a mouse loose in a rice bin.”
“Haha!” Jeff burst out laughing. “That’s the point. I’m hoping you’ll get so caught up in here that we can keep you forever. Oops—did I just say that out loud?”
Anson rubbed his hands together. “Guess this is a test of how well I can resist temptation.”
Jeff had to admit, he had an ulterior motive.
He admired Anson and genuinely wanted to work with him. But, like a director, he didn’t want Anson to be some Barbie doll they could just pose however they liked. He wanted Anson to judge things based on his own taste and values, to build a project around Anson’s artistic vision.
That could be really interesting.
Of course, the bigger picture was still the company’s interests.
Sony Columbia’s internal conflicts were starting to hold them back. While all of Hollywood was scrambling to win Anson over, they were sitting on a golden opportunity like Spider-Man—and seriously considering cutting ties?
Jeff could understand a studio wanting to keep control and stop actors from eating into their profits. But all signs pointed to Anson not being some greedy shark. He wasn’t making outrageous demands. Yet Sony Columbia was already drawing lines in the sand before anything even happened. It was an epic disaster in the making.
So, Jeff figured Michael Lynton wasn’t the right fit for Sony Columbia.
But Sony’s loss was Warner Bros.’ gain.
Warner Bros. wanted to seize the moment and lock in a partnership with Anson before the other studios could swoop in.
Jeff had always believed Anson wasn’t just some pretty face. If the chance came up, he’d even sit down with Forest Films to talk collaboration.
You had to play the long game, not sweat the small stuff.
That’s why Jeff opened up Warner Bros.’ project vault to Anson. He knew it was a risk—this room had never been fully opened to any actor before, ever.
But he also saw it as a test—of Anson’s ability to sift through scripts, projects, and roles. A test of his judgment and taste.
If Anson turned into a mouse gorging himself silly in the rice bin, it’d prove he might not be worth a long-term investment. Maybe a couple of projects while he’s hot would be fine, but down the road, that greed could eat him alive.
People always talk a big game in life, showing off their best selves. But it’s only when they’re staring down real stakes—or real temptation—that you see who they truly are, raw and unfiltered.
Jeff liked Anson, but honestly, they were still just casual acquaintances. Before diving deeper into a partnership, Jeff needed to see more.
A win-win situation, really.
Watching Anson’s excited face and sparkling eyes, Jeff gave a satisfied nod, turned, and left him to it, heading back to his own work.
Another busy day—nonstop, not even a second to grab a sip of water.
A burger and a salad sat on his desk, meant to be lunch. But by the time Jeff remembered them, it was already past 5 p.m.
Nibbling on a now-cold burger bun, Jeff seriously wondered if he should just skip lunch altogether. Dinner was right around the corner anyway.
Then his assistant cautiously chimed in, “Jeff, Anson’s still in the project vault.”
Jeff jolted, nearly tipping out of his chair. “I totally forgot about that! He’s still in there? Right now?” He didn’t bother fixing his rumpled clothes, just stood up and rushed out of the office. “What about his lunch?”
“I checked in on him and ordered a light meal,” the assistant replied.
Jeff nodded. “Good job. So, he’s been in there this whole time?”
“Yeah, all day. Hasn’t come out once. I had someone sit by the door in case he needed anything,” the assistant said.
Jeff gave a small nod.
“He just asked for a cup of tea,” the assistant added.
“Tea?” Jeff repeated.
The assistant nodded.
Jeff chuckled, shaking his head. “Book us two spots for dinner. Anson’s probably starving. Upper West Side—no, Chinatown. Get us a table in Chinatown.”
“That place Kevin and I went last time. I love their kung pao chicken.”
Chapter 1487: Unearthing Treasure
“Mr. Robinov!”
Jeff turned toward the voice. The young, slightly boyish face likely belonged to an assistant’s assistant. If he remembered correctly, the kid’s name was John.
“John?”
The young man nodded, looking at Jeff with a mix of stiffness and nerves.
Jeff glanced around the quiet room. Down the hall, he caught sight of a few sneaky figures peeking out, a restless buzz stirring in the stillness. “Is Anson in there alone?”
John shook his head. “There are two others inside, looking for files.”
Looking for files?
More like an excuse to sneak a peek at Anson, Jeff figured.
He couldn’t help but chuckle. “It’s extra lively today, huh?”
After getting a nod from John, Jeff asked, “Did Anson say anything?”
“No, nothing,” John replied. “They all left with big smiles. Someone even brought a camera. I wasn’t sure if I should stop them.”
Jeff waved it off, signaling there was no need to stress. “Anson doesn’t mind that stuff. Looks like after today, Hollywood’s going to have another Anson legend to pass around.”
“I’m heading in now. Stand by the door and keep everyone out. Just say I’m talking business with Anson.”
With that, Jeff stepped forward. He didn’t knock—just gently pushed the door open. Right away, he spotted two figures halfheartedly flipping through files, their sidelong glances clearly drifting toward the window.
The tea-colored glass was spotless, letting sparse sunlight filter through and spill across the room. It didn’t quite reach the bookshelves, lingering instead on the desk by the window. A soft halo of light bathed the space in the warm, orange glow of a sunset, gently tracing the outline of a face in profile—
Focused. Serene.
Time seemed to slow, dancing between the sharp bridge of a nose and the curve of rosy lips. It was hard not to let your eyes linger, tracing the lines of those features.
Ahem.
Jeff cleared his throat twice. The two whispering, sneaking figures snapped to attention. Seeing Jeff, they ducked their heads, shoved each other awkwardly, and bolted out of the room.
Bang!
The door slammed louder than intended, shattering the calm. The sunlight flickered as if startled. Anson’s gaze finally lifted from the desk, his head turning toward the door. There stood Jeff, alone in the hallway.
“Hey, Jeff!”
Jeff took a closer look, sizing Anson up. Hard to believe the guy had been sitting there all day—no greasy face, no bloodshot eyes, no disheveled mess. He looked a little tired, sure, but his expression was buzzing with excitement.
Jeff glanced down at himself, a wry smile tugging at his lips.
Both human, both busy all day, yet the difference was night and day. Why did some people have to make it so obvious?
Swallowing the thought, Jeff walked over. “So, you’ve been sitting here all day?”
Anson glanced around. “This place reminds me of a school library.”
Jeff plopped down across from him. “God, don’t tell me you’re one of those people who actually studies in the library all day.”
Anson shook his head. “Nah, I’d read novels all day.”
Jeff burst out laughing. “Okay, that balances things out a bit. Guess God’s still fair.”
Anson grinned, unfazed. “If this were all calculus, I’d probably be passed out in the corner by now. Calculus is the ultimate sleep aid.”
“Hahaha!” Jeff threw his hands up. “What can I say? Calculus was my favorite subject.”
Anson’s mouth dropped open slightly, but he paused, then said, “Should I say I’m not surprised? You totally look like a calculus guy.”
Jeff blinked, shaking his head lightly. “I’m not gonna ask why.” His eyes sparkled with amusement. “So, what’d you find? A whole day of wandering and digging?”
As he spoke, Jeff scanned the desk. It was a mess—chaotic, scattered, piled high with projects too numerous to count.
Anson winced. “Sorry, forgive me for turning this place into a disaster.”
Jeff waved it off. “Trust me, you could stack it all back however you want, and no one would care. The more projects pile up here, the dustier it gets. Honestly, we should clean it out regularly, but there’s never time.”
Anson nodded. “I get it.”
“I mean, you guys are a well-established studio. You’ve already got a solid framework for the projects, ideas, and creative directions you’re interested in.”
“So, the stuff that ends up here? It’s probably outside that framework—or it’s got obvious flaws that make it tough to develop.”
“Regular cleanups might unearth a gem with potential, but those are few and far between.”
At a company like Warner Bros., they had dedicated project managers whose daily grind was sifting through scripts and proposals. With their experience and sharp instincts, they rarely missed anything that fit the studio’s vibe.
That said, the projects in this room might not suit Warner Bros., but some could be a perfect match for another studio’s style.
For Anson, it’d been a fun day.
Now he finally got it—the thrill of treasure hunting. People who loved vintage stuff, secondhand finds, or antiques would sift patiently through piles of junk, searching for that one thing that spoke to them. The joy and satisfaction of finding it? Words couldn’t quite capture it.
“But I don’t get why this project’s just sitting here gathering dust.”
Anson rummaged around the desk. Despite the trash-heap chaos, he somehow remembered where everything was. With uncanny precision, he pulled his target from the bottom of a stack.
Then he held it up for Jeff to see.
“It’s got a simple story—almost fragile, in a way. Just a basic frame. But that kind of story leaves tons of room for actors and directors to get creative, to fill in the blanks with something unique.”
“It’s got a deep core and a philosophical theme.”
Jeff raised an eyebrow, surprised but intrigued.
This wasn’t quite what he’d expected. Anson hadn’t greedily dug up a pile of projects that Warner Bros. might pass on but could be gold for, say, Forest Films. Instead, he’d zeroed in on one thing, his excitement and enthusiasm shining through so genuinely.
Jeff tilted his head. “You mean…?”
Anson leaned in. “Warner Bros. should invest in this. It’s got everything it needs to be a classic. I really think you guys shouldn’t let this one slip by.”
“Maybe I’m overselling it a bit—Steven Spielberg and Stanley Kubrick are legends, after all—but I honestly believe this could be on the level of Saving Private Ryan or 2001: A Space Odyssey.”
Jeff froze. That kind of praise? He hadn’t seen that coming.
“So, you’re talking artistic achievement?” Jeff asked, almost reflexively.
Anson nodded. “Yeah. If the goal were to make it a box-office hit like Saving Private Ryan, it might need some extra emotional punch. But I don’t think that’s the smart move here. The theme’s got so much depth to explore.”
Jeff took the project from Anson’s hands. The title on the cover jumped out—
Children of Men, Alfonso Cuarón.
Chapter 1488: A Hidden Gem
Children of Men is based on a novel published in 1992. The story jumps forward thirty years to 2021, where humanity faces an existential crisis: everyone has lost the ability to reproduce. It’s been over a decade since the last baby was born, and society is starting to crack under the strain.
Science and technology have stalled, economies are crumbling, and different regions around the world are sliding into lawless chaos.
Eastern Europe and Africa have splintered and are on the brink of collapse, sending waves of people fleeing toward the slightly more stable British Isles.
But even there, things are a mess. Immigrants are being treated like slaves, order and rules are breaking down, and the end of the world feels like it’s closing in.
Then, in the middle of all this, an illegal immigrant girl from Africa turns up pregnant—carrying a new life. It’s a spark that sets the underclass buzzing with unrest.
Enter the protagonist, Theodore, who decides to protect this girl at all costs, to get her out of there and preserve humanity’s last hope. And so begins their desperate escape.
The story itself, as Anson pointed out, has the potential to be a Saving Private Ryan. It’s a straightforward rescue mission set against a backdrop of war or a dying world, painting a vivid picture of humanity in all its shades. The plot isn’t complicated, but whether it leans into sci-fi apocalypse or war-torn disaster, this project could go in so many directions.
At its core, the film digs into the meaning of life, even touching on religious themes. It’s nothing like 2001: A Space Odyssey, but both movies get to the heart of what sci-fi can be—a reflection on existence. There’s real artistic depth here, room to stretch and grow.
No doubt about it, this is a project with both artistic merit and commercial appeal.
Anson couldn’t wrap his head around why it was gathering dust in the project vault. After all, Warner Bros. later greenlit I Am Legend, a movie with a similar vibe—but in terms of quality and substance, it doesn’t hold a candle to Children of Men.
That said, looking back from his past life, Warner Bros.’ decision wasn’t entirely off-base.
Children of Men didn’t end up with Warner Bros. anyway—it went to Universal Pictures. And Universal took it in a slightly different direction. They sank $76 million into it but didn’t package it like Saving Private Ryan. Instead, they slotted it for a Christmas release—
War. Sci-fi. Apocalypse.
Those words don’t exactly scream “family-friendly holiday flick.” You can already see Universal’s muddled vision here:
They were aiming for awards season, treating Children of Men like an artsy contender instead of a box-office play.
To be fair, Universal put some thought into it—just not enough.
Notoriously stingy, they dropped $76 million on production but targeted awards season rather than chasing ticket sales to break even. And because the budget was so high, they skimped on the kind of PR push you need for the Oscars. They said they were gunning for awards but wouldn’t pony up the cash to back it up—a total contradiction.
That blurry positioning and lackluster marketing set the wrong expectations, completely burying the film’s potential.
In the end, Children of Men grossed just $70 million worldwide, with a measly $35 million from North America. It flopped hard.
As for awards season, without serious PR, it still snagged nominations for Best Adapted Screenplay, Best Cinematography, and Best Editing—
No surprise, it didn’t win anything.
Commercially and artistically, it fell flat on both fronts.
But did it really?
The director and writer of Children of Men was Alfonso Cuarón—one of the famed “Three Amigos” from Mexico, a tech geek who’d go on to make standout films like Gravity and Roma. He earned his place in Hollywood fair and square with sheer talent.
Oh, and he also directed Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban—widely considered the best in the Harry Potter series.
For the general public, Gravity is probably his most famous work. It won him an Oscar for Best Director and raked in a fortune at the box office. But true cinephiles and critics argue that Children of Men is his real masterpiece, striking the perfect balance between technique and storytelling.
Back in his past life, after its release, Children of Men earned heaps of praise from pros and movie buffs alike. That jaw-dropping long take? It got endless applause.
Among the “Three Amigos,” Alejandro González Iñárritu is usually seen as the tech wizard. He nabbed back-to-back Best Director Oscars for Birdman and The Revenant, and the one-shot wonder in Birdman is still a hot topic.
But in Anson’s eyes, Alejandro’s long take in Birdman felt like showing off. The director knew he was good, knew the shot was stunning, but it didn’t serve the story—it was just there to flex his skills and wow the Academy.
Alfonso’s approach was different. The long takes in Children of Men flowed naturally, seamlessly blending with the setting. They weren’t for bragging—they were part of the narrative, serving the story and the film. That’s how it should be.
Purely on artistic merit, Children of Men might not top Birdman or The Revenant, but it deserves way more recognition than it got.
To Anson, the movie’s artistic value and commercial potential were never fully tapped—
A real shame.
So, picture this: Anson’s digging through that dim storage room and stumbles across this project. The rush of excitement? Overwhelming.
If he could, he’d love to get this film in front of more people, let them feel its magic.
To him, Children of Men outshines I Am Legend by the length of a Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban plus half a Saving Private Ryan.
But reality?
Children of Men pulled in $70 million worldwide, while I Am Legend cleared over $200 million in North America alone.
From that angle, Warner Bros. made the right call.
Still, Anson believed that with the right positioning and marketing, Children of Men could’ve won over more fans. It did, after all, get rave reviews in the DVD rental and sales market later on. Even if it couldn’t outgross I Am Legend, it didn’t deserve to tank that badly.
Of course, that’s just Anson’s take. He might think that, but it doesn’t mean he can rewrite the movie’s fate.
In Hollywood, this kind of thing happens all the time. Projects everyone’s sure will soar end up crashing, while ones no one cares about take off out of nowhere.
Children of Men isn’t the only one—far from it.
(End of Chapter)
