Chapter 80: The Beginning of the Competition
Inside the Warner Bros. executive office, Jeff was just about to head out when a knock came at the door.
John walked in, holding freshly compiled data in his hands.
"Boss, I went to your office—your secretary said you were here," John explained, handing over the folder of reports.
Jeff opened it and gave a pleased hum. "Hmm… Friday's box office, $9.79 million—nicely done! Our internal survey sampled 3,500 moviegoers, and over 90% rated the film A or A+. The audience feedback is overwhelmingly positive!"
He passed the report to Kevin Tsujihara, clearly in a good mood.
But John, hesitating slightly, added, "Boss… there's one detail not in the summary."
"What is it?"
"I asked the surveyors—those who rated it A or A+ were almost entirely young viewers. Barely anyone over 30 gave it a high score. Everyone else gave it a C or lower."
Jeff and Kevin paused, brows furrowing. This hinted at a potential problem.
Jeff rubbed his chin and mused, "So the majority of the audience likes the film a lot… but a small portion absolutely hates it."
"Jeff," Kevin set the report down and said nonchalantly, "That's perfectly normal. No film is loved by everyone. We targeted young people. And this is a hard-R rated film—we expect some viewers to dislike it. There are only two things everyone agrees to love: gold and U.S. dollars!"
"You've got a point," Jeff muttered.
---
Meanwhile, over in Universal City, California—home to one of the oldest studios among Hollywood's Big Six—Tom Cruise and Nicole Kidman sat in a conference room with their agent and the core creative team behind Far and Away.
Universal's head of production, Carl Laemmle Jr., addressed the group. "It's clear now—our biggest competitor is Warner Bros.' Get Out. We're already falling behind in both box office and audience reception."
"Sure, we had the upper hand on opening day," he continued, "but we all know why that was."
Everyone in the room nodded. These were industry veterans. They knew that if things continued like this, Far and Away could flop—and given its massive budget, Universal might need years to break even.
Just as Laemmle finished speaking, a voice piped up from the corner.
"Sir, maybe there's something we can do about that low-budget horror film."
All eyes turned to the speaker—a young man sitting quietly off to the side.
"Don't push your luck, Adam," director Ron Howard said sternly. He was only tolerating the kid because of a personal favor—if it weren't for that, he wouldn't have brought him at all.
"You're Adam Goodman?" Laemmle asked, suddenly recalling the young man's identity—he was the son of former studio executive Ferren Goodman.
Most people in the room had heard about Ferren's scandal and quiet settlement out of court. No one knew where he'd gone since, and his son hadn't exactly inherited his clout.
"Yes, sir." Adam gathered his courage, pulling a folder from his bag. "I've compiled some data—many of you might've seen some of it before."
He stood and handed out printed sheets to each person, starting with Laemmle.
Once everyone had a copy, he stepped to the front of the room. "I looked into the demographics behind Get Out's ratings. Most of the positive reviews come from young people. Middle-aged and older viewers either disliked it—or hated it."
"I followed up with those lower-rating viewers to find out why," he continued. "The answer? The film is too Black. Hollywood commercial films have unwritten rules. Before this, no horror movie ever featured so many Black leads. And the ending—that's the real problem."
"A Black protagonist killing a group of white people? That crosses a line for many mainstream viewers. It goes against social norms. They just couldn't accept it."
At that, everyone in the room understood the implication. The reasoning might sound weak, even prejudiced, but it presented… an opportunity, depending on how it was spun.
Ron Howard, however, wasn't convinced. "Let's not kid ourselves," he said. "Our target audience is different. Even if we exploit this angle, it won't boost our film much. These are two very different markets."
He was right—Far and Away and Get Out had completely separate genres, tones, and core demographics. Provoking a feud with Warner Bros. might not be worth it.
Adam, still standing, began to feel embarrassed as the room went quiet.
But before he could say anything more, Tom Cruise's agent—Pat Kingsley—spoke up.
"No, Mr. Howard, the data is still useful," she said firmly.
Laemmle turned to her with interest. "Ms. Kingsley, do you have something in mind?"
"We can subtly remind general audiences," she replied, tapping her fingers on the table, "that Get Out is a film where a Black man kills white people. I think that message will land. And we can leak more explicit versions to the tabloids. Trust me, they live for this kind of heat—and Warner Bros. wouldn't dare sue them."
Her fingers kept drumming rhythmically on the wood. A plan was clearly forming in her mind.
"As for the different audience bases," she added, "I don't quite agree. Right now, only two major films are in wide release. If we turn the two choices into a single safe one..."
"Exactly! What Ms. Kingsley said is precisely my plan!"
Adam jumped to his feet, unable to hide his excitement. He had no intention of quietly fading away after this film. If he wanted to make a name for himself in Hollywood, he had to prove his worth—now.
"There might not be enough time left…"
Tom Cruise, always one of Hollywood's proudest stars, frowned. In a town where true A-list superstars could be counted on one hand, he was undeniably one of them—and this plan made him uneasy.
Clearly, he wasn't thrilled about the idea.
"Then we'll start next week," Carl Laemmle decided without hesitation.
"You don't need to worry about this anymore, Tom. Just focus on the promotional tour. The film's final box office depends on you now."
"Laoy," Laemmle called for his assistant. "Get in touch with some friendly critics—the ones we've worked closely with over the years. We need them to join in…"
The meeting slowly wound down. Everyone in the room understood: they could only do their best now. As for the outcome? That was out of their hands.
---
The Next Morning
Tom Cruise hadn't even touched his breakfast. Fuming, he stared at the headline on the front page of the newspaper before him—and immediately called for Pat Kingsley.
"Darling, don't let the press get to you. We all know what the media's like,"
Nicole Kidman picked up the crumpled paper from the floor and sat down beside her husband to comfort him.
But the moment her eyes landed on the headlines, she understood exactly why he was so upset.
"Tom Cruise's Waterloo: The Superstar Stumbles"
Flipping the paper over, another bold headline screamed:
"Tom Cruise's Box Office Magic Is Gone—Beaten by a Low-Budget Film"
Nicole forced herself to finish the article. According to the Saturday box office numbers, Get Out had raked in $19.5 million, while their film Far and Away had only managed $6.94 million.
The contrast was staggering. Their film now looked like the low-budget underdog.
When Pat Kingsley rushed in, the tension in the room hit her like a wave. She could feel the weight of her client's disappointment.
"Tom, don't panic—we still have a shot!"
That was all she could say at this point, trying to steady the mood.
"I want you to stay in L.A. and help coordinate with Universal's PR team,"
Tom Cruise said flatly. "Nicole and I will handle the promo tour."
Pat hesitated. Normally, Tom was level-headed. But when provoked—especially by the press—he had a tendency to say exactly what was on his mind. And without someone there to pull him back, things could get messy fast.
She looked to Nicole, hoping she could talk some sense into her husband.
"Don't worry, Pat. We've got this,"
Nicole reassured her, subtly promising she'd be there to keep Tom in check.
As an agent, Pat Kingsley was already considered one of Hollywood's elite. Having launched Tom Cruise to A-list superstardom had earned her a place among the industry's top power brokers.
But only she knew how exhausting the job really was—especially when it meant constantly cleaning up after a client as controversial and unpredictable as Tom Cruise.