Behind The Spotlight Chapter 53
Axel Gunner had been staring at his phone for half an hour. He sat alone at a table in a diner restaurant, barely touching the food on his plate, which had already gone cold. Eating was the last thing on his mind. Earlier that morning, he had transferred money to his ex-wife after a long internal debate and reviewing his bank account.
The Accidental Wedding Crashers had become a major success, far beyond anyone's expectations, and the cast had begun to gain recognition. The film captivated audiences with its adult humor and genuine charm.
As of the third week of December, the worldwide box office for The Accidental Wedding Crashers had reached $233 million. A staggering figure for an indie-style comedy with no initial backing.
The North American box office had grossed $158 million after 61 days of screening. Internationally, it pulled in $75 million after four weeks across Europe, Asia, and South America.
Given these statistics, it was clear the film had not only made money but had become one of the most profitable releases of the year. Especially considering that its total production cost was only $300,000. A mere fraction of its total earnings.
Naturally, the first wave of money arrived from the Cinema Alliance, known for early settlements in distribution deals. The Cinema Alliance was a coalition of North American theater chains that united to protect their interests from major studios and unfavorable contracts.
The $100 million domestic box office revenue was split among Cinema Alliance, Uni-Versus Pictures, and Collin's group. The remaining $58 million would be settled after the film completed its theatrical run.
Cinema Alliance, controlling physical venues and pricing, took 40% of the gross which was $40 million.
Uni-Versus Pictures took 30% of the total and was also reimbursed for distribution logistics and advertising.
Collin's group would receive the remainder after all deductions were applied.
From the $100 million pool, Cinema Alliance claimed its $40 million. The rest was divided between Uni-Versus and Collin's side, following their pre-agreed terms.
Uni-Versus Pictures had spent $11 million on promotion, including film prints, posters, trailers, and media appearances.
In the end, Uni-Versus Pictures secured $41 million in total. 30% from the box office and reimbursement for their expenses. It was a sizable gain, albeit not overwhelming.
That left only $19 million in profit for Collin and his group after all the calculations and paperwork.
Collin, Wyatt, and William agreed to allocate $1 million as bonuses to the cast and crew in recognition of their hard work and commitment despite low salaries. Collin was in charge of distributing the bonuses and had already started compiling a list.
With $18 million left, it was time to divide the profit among the three key players.
William received 30%, amounting to $5.4 million, wired directly to his bank account. While he sometimes felt he deserved more given the risk he took, he didn't dwell on it. He saw the experience as a valuable lesson in navigating the industry.
After all, William was still new to showbiz. Every deal, every negotiation was part of his education. Rather than being upset, he was simply grateful that the film succeeded and turned a profit.
He considered the gain a win and a stepping stone.
Collin also received 30%, totaling $5.4 million. The largest sum he had ever seen. It was, by far, the biggest payout of his life.
But Collin, having survived the harsh realities of the entertainment world, had no plans to spend recklessly. He decided to deposit the entire sum into his savings and planned to consult a financial advisor next month to learn how to invest wisely for long-term growth.
Wyatt, meanwhile, received the largest share, 40%, or $7.2 million. It was a life-altering figure for a rookie director. Just months ago, he had taken a leap of faith alongside Collin. Now, he was a millionaire before 25 years old.
For his future projects, Wyatt vowed to negotiate for box office shares again. He had seen firsthand how lucrative they could be.
However, the focus of this chapter was not the riches, but Axel Gunner and the weight slowly crushing him.
Axel received a $100,000 bonus for his performance in the film. As one of the lead actors, he had carried part of the story with dedication and charm. Lawrence received the same bonus for his contribution.
Other cast members earned between $20,000 and $50,000, depending on screen time and importance. These bonuses were substantial, especially in 1995, when film budgets were generally more conservative.
For context, the average annual American salary was $32,000. So even a $20,000 bonus was a huge financial boost.
It didn't take long for Axel's ex-wife to resurface once his name began trending in entertainment news. With his growing fame, it was inevitable that she would see the movie or hear about it.
As he expected, she called him, asking for money just days after the film's release.
She claimed their son needed $10,000 for a private school Axel had never heard of before. Given her track record, he was skeptical.
He hadn't spoken to his son in three years. Not one call, not one visit, not even on birthdays.
Lost in thought, Axel's phone rang again, snapping him back to reality.
He answered and heard that all-too-familiar voice, sweet and manipulative.
"Cynthia, I already sent the money. Give the phone to John. I want to talk to him," Axel said, trying to keep his voice steady.
"Yeah, I got the confirmation. You're really improving now with all this money," she said teasingly. "How about sending me another $10,000? Your son wants a remote-controlled car."
Her tone was playful, almost mocking.
Axel's grip on the phone tightened. He wasn't in the mood for games.
"Cynthia, I want to talk to my son. I've been trying to talk to him for years. He's five, what could he possibly be busy with?" Axel's voice cracked with frustration.
He raised his voice slightly, unable to contain the desperation building in his chest.
"Hey, hey. Don't shout. You'll scare your son," she snapped back, irritated.
"Look, I'm sorry. I just... I miss him. I just want to talk to John," Axel said, his throat tightening.
"Heh, okay. I'll call him. John--!! Your dad wants to talk to you--!!" she shouted casually across the house.
Then silence.
Axel waited, holding his breath, heart pounding.
"..."
No reply.
"I'm sorry, Axel. Your son says he doesn't want to talk to you," Cynthia said, devoid of sympathy.
"Cynthia, please. I'll buy him toys, tell him I'll buy him toys!" Axel pleaded, voice cracking, eyes stinging with tears. Costumers nearby glanced at him in confusion.
"You don't need to. I'll buy him toys myself, since you can't even see him. Just keep sending money like a good little earner. I know your first movie didn't pay much. Honestly, being an actor is more pathetic than a cockroach. But who knows? Maybe your next movie will bring more. Don't forget your son once you become successful~" she said, her voice dripping with venomous sweetness.
"You won't change your number, right?" Axel asked with a flicker of hope.
"Sorry. The phone I'm using isn't even mine. I asked some random guy to let me borrow his," she said with a shrug.
Axel heard a man's giggle in the background.
"T-Then at least give me your address. The one you gave me last time was fake. The neighbors said you moved out six months ago," he said, desperation mounting.
He didn't care how pathetic he sounded. He just wanted something, anything, to hold onto.
"I didn't lie. That was our address. You're just too late. Besides, the court already ruled that you're not allowed to meet us. So... goodbye~~"
"Cynthia, wait, Cynthia?" Axel called out, his voice trembling.
The call ended.
Axel stared at his phone for a moment, his face twisted in anguish.
Then he slammed his fists onto the table, causing cups to rattle and heads to turn.