Chapter 100
The subsequent negotiations faced no obstacles—prices were clearly stated: $600,000 to $650,000 for production, with CAA taking a 10% commission on the production budget.
That amounts to $600,000 to $650,000, equivalent to 4.2 million RMB paid to CAA.
If the production budget exceeds this amount, they still take a cut!
This commission isn't small—it's a low-budget film, and every year, hundreds of low-budget projects come to Hollywood seeking production teams.
CAA has served many, so they make a lot of money!
Additionally, the salaries for behind-the-scenes staff and actors are also clearly priced, but the money must go through CAA, who then pays the staff and actors.
That means the agency eats from both ends.
Labor here is extremely expensive—a background extra costs $2,000; someone with a single line jumps straight to $20,000.
This alone totals over six million dollars, which is why it's called a low-budget film—in China, a $40 million budget would already count as a major production!
The agency eating from both ends is understandable—they assemble the crew, hire the personnel, rent the equipment, and finally arrange distribution.
They provide a full-service package, ensuring the film is shot smoothly and also sold.
Whether it sells well or not? That's your problem!
Who knows what kind of thing you're even making? They're just giving you a channel.
On the other side, CAA also refers staff for jobs and actors for roles, so of course they take an agency fee from that too.
So this is a business that eats from both ends—you can't complain, because it's genuinely not wrong.
Based on the film budget, the other side quickly produced a shooting plan, with a table listing the cinematographer, art director, props crew, and all necessary equipment.
Of course it was in English—Fang Hong couldn't read it—but Yu Xian translated it into Chinese.
They acted like they did this all the time, as if they already had a ready-made production team they could pull in anytime.
This is the manifestation of strong resources.
If Fang Hong had such powerful resources, he wouldn't need to build his own team—he could just pull one in and use it.
But the environment in China and abroad is different—they have a mature system.
Teams and equipment are all ready; just pay, and now it's about confirming the shooting style and required prop designs.
This requires Fang Hong and Yu Xian to clearly convey their vision to the behind-the-scenes crew, otherwise they won't know what you're shooting.
For example, the art director, if unaware of your concept, can't design props or set the scenes—you must communicate your aesthetic vision to them.
Since they're shooting Annabelle, a horror film, not a conventional narrative feature.
Therefore, the prop design must have a horror visual, and the visuals must include horror elements.
Fortunately, Fang Hong had prepared concept sketches beforehand, so they could simply follow the sketches for design and set construction.
The shooting location hasn't been finalized yet; currently, they're only designing props.
After a few days of busy work, Fang Hong and Yu Xian found a hotel in Hollywood's Chinese enclave.
Staying here made them feel safer, giving them a sense of familiarity among their own kind—but neither of them interacted with others, even when greeted, they kept silent.
They remained guarded at all times, since they were strangers in a foreign land—who knew if those people were trustworthy?
There are too many fellow countrymen who cheat fellow countrymen.
Their only goal was to finish the film, focusing solely on this one task.
They later selected the lead actors—the female lead was also named Annabelle, the male lead was Wade; other actors didn't matter.
The lead actors matched those chosen in the original Annabelle—Fang Hong did this intentionally; he didn't want to waste time on auditions—he just locked them in.
It was only two or three years earlier—the actors were still the same!
And given this budget and film tier, the actors who'd take this role were all minor players—no qualifications required.
But honestly, the female lead was very beautiful—tall, fair skin, golden hair and blue eyes, looking stylish and elegant, extremely captivating!
She was said to carry the title "The Rose of England."
This rose was born in 1984, right in her prime—but Western women have short shelf lives; within a few years, they age rapidly.
Yu Xian instantly took a liking to her, developed a crush, and went straight up to chat about the script.
Fang Hong didn't understand what they were chattering about, but the English rose clearly felt nothing for Yu Xian.
Understandable—he's Asian, lacks any aura of dominance, and white women usually feel nothing toward them, often harboring prejudice.
Like how we feel about Black people.
If not for the film, the English rose wouldn't even acknowledge him; the white people wouldn't acknowledge them either—this is how it is.
And although Yu Xian had loosened up considerably, his loser vibe was still unmistakable.
This dealt another blow to Yu Xian.
"Don't lose heart—work hard to earn money. Once you have money, use it to make her spread her legs." Fang Hong encouraged him.
"I know I need to earn money, damn it—I just can't stand being looked down on!" Yu Xian was furious, constantly treated with disdain here.
Communicating about the script, discussing shooting requirements—everywhere they met impatience, it was outright bullying.
"In the United States, you must strengthen yourself—only when you earn money will they respect you. In a capitalist society, you must smash them with money—never talk about feelings. There's no other path."
Fang Hong began instilling this philosophy.
There was no choice—it was similar to what Chen Zhixi faced when he first started his business.
Seeing Yu Xian silent, he continued: "After this film is released, I'll give you one million dollars—you go win that girl over. If you can't, I'll give you another million, until you do. The moment she opens her legs for you, you dump her."
"Huh?!"
Yu Xian was stunned—this was too pornographic, too violent!
It completely overturned his worldview—to smash someone with money just to dump them? Was this even possible? "But I must tell you: money is for women to see, not to give to them. Remember this." Fang Hong's tone carried weight.
He feared Yu Xian would waste money on some European or American gold digger—though those funds meant nothing to him later.
But still, it made him angry!
"Wait, I'm curious—where do you get this money? How can you be so sure you'll make it?" Yu Xian asked.
"This movie is definitely going to make money—if it doesn't, I'll eat shit right in front of you," Fang Hong boasted loudly.
"That's overstating it—I'm afraid my vision might be traumatized," Yu Xian said, his mood lifting slightly; Fang Hong's words had excited him enough to joke back.
Still, he trusted Fang Hong, because Fang Hong had never failed—he'd always won.
He still remembered Fang Hong's shenanigans when "Breakup 33 Days" premiered—would he pull the same stunt in the United States?
"Damn it, can you take this seriously? I'm trying to comfort you," Fang Hong said, exasperated.
"My bad, my bad—but are you serious about paying me to make that English rose open her mouth?" Yu Xian was referring to the money Fang Hong promised him for seducing the English rose.
"When have I ever lied to you?"
Fang Hong put an arm around his shoulder: "You think I brought you here for some petty game? I brought you here to cut the Americans' fat wallets—unless we take off a few hundred million, does it even make sense to have come all this way?"
It made sense—better to shoot low-budget films at home, but he'd already had two consecutive hits.
Yu Xian leaned closer: "Tell me the truth—do you have a hidden move?"
"What hidden move?" Fang Hong asked, puzzled.
"Like the way you pulled off 'Breakup 33 Days' before," Yu Xian said.
Fang Hong thought for a moment and understood: "I could pull that off in China because I know the local social environment—but overseas? I don't have that kind of ability."
"Then how can you guarantee this movie will make money?" Yu Xian asked.
It's not easy for Chinese to make money making films here!
"We're not making serious films. Horror belongs to the weird genre—you shouldn't fixate only on the U. S. market. Audiences in Mexico and South America love this kind of movie too."
"In other words, this genre has a fixed global audience—if you make it well, you can get huge box office returns," Fang Hong explained.
Fang Hong broke it down for him.
At first Yu Xian had no concept—he didn't understand the market—but after hearing Fang Hong's explanation, he thought carefully.
It really was true: earlier horror films like "The Blair Witch Project," "Saw," and "Paranormal Activity" had all achieved considerable success.
The investment cost for these horror films was never high.
The two had this conversation to get Yu Xian to adjust his mindset, work hard, and understand the local environment.
Moneyed women will naturally come—make money first, then chase girls.
While the crew was being assembled and filming locations were being selected, Fang Hong took time to register a local film company.
The name was still: Yutu Film Industry.
The logo was still the Chang'e Holding Rabbit emblem.
This company was treated as a branch of the domestic Yutu Company, fully owned and controlled.
But to open a company here, you must create five to ten jobs—Yu Xian didn't count, since he wasn't a U. S. citizen.
Including him in the company would only make visa applications slightly easier—you had to find three accountants and two janitors just to fill the quota.
Actually, one accountant would suffice, since domestic Meng Jun was watching over things—but you had to pay people, no way around it.
You didn't need to hire the filming crew—when you wanted to make a movie, just provide the script, have Yu Xian act as director and producer, and work with local talent agencies and unions.
Effectively, this company was just a shell!
Registering a film company in the United States offered protection—no matter how small the company or how unknown the director, you still had some bargaining power.
If you felt it was unfair, you could guarantee yourself at least a 25% share!
That was the minimum—it set a hard floor, protecting the producer's interests and giving them a baseline to negotiate with distributors.
Otherwise, the U. S. production industry wouldn't be so developed.
But if you treated it as a foreign film, you wouldn't get this protection.
So this was why Fang Hong registered a company to shoot a local film in the U. S. —it saved a lot of trouble.
Of course, foreign films could still negotiate—but only if you had enough clout, enough leverage.
For example, when a big American movie enters China and wants a prime release slot or a bigger share—does it have any say? No.
Registering a film company meant "Annabelle" now carried the Yutu brand and was classified as a local production.
After registering the company, Fang Hong and Yu Xian hired a law firm and paid them to check copyright status.
They could check online too, since U. S. copyright information was public—you could find out whether infringement had occurred or whether rights had been approved.
But the law firm could uncover far more detailed copyright information!
They could check whether screenplays and artwork registered online last year were still valid here, or whether they conflicted with other copyrights.
For example, "The Purge series," "The Conjuring Series," and some Animation Department copyrights.
Fang Hong was most worried about "The Conjuring Series"—he wanted to know if its copyright conflicted with anything.
Because the script for this film had existed for a long time, yet when he registered it last year, it succeeded—meaning the title hadn't been taken yet.
This check required detailed content review and would take time—so Fang Hong and Yu Xian started filming and finalized the shooting location first.
"Annabelle" didn't need to worry about copyright—it was an original script adapted from a story.
It was essentially an extension of "The Conjuring Series!"
(End of Chapter)
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