Chapter 92 – Second in North America
The first rays of morning sunlight streamed into the estate as Wayne jogged out of the garden, dripping with sweat and flanked by his two golden retrievers.
Ever since the dogs had come to their new home, he hadn't spent much time with them. Now that most of his work had wrapped up, he finally had time for morning workouts—and to walk the dogs himself.
After returning to the house, Wayne headed straight to the third floor for a refreshing shower. Only then did he leisurely make his way downstairs to the living room, where he picked up the morning paper.
Get Out was about to enter its third week of release, but the hype was clearly beginning to cool. Most of the entertainment columns were now dominated by Warner Bros.' upcoming juggernaut Batman Returns and Paramount's big-budget action flick Terminator.
Over the past four weekdays, Get Out had performed as expected, with its box office numbers showing a clear downward trend.
As a thriller-leaning R-rated film, it had already brought in the majority of its target audience through aggressive early marketing. A decline in attendance was inevitable.
Its weekday grosses were:
$4.56 million,
$4.67 million,
$4.42 million,
$4.11 million,
bringing in a total of $17.76 million over those four days.
This upcoming weekend would mark the film's last big showing window, after which it would have to make way for other summer blockbusters.
From this week forward, nearly every weekend would see at least two wide releases—peak time for moviegoers, and all-out war for the studios.
"Boss, about Miss Halle Berry…" Hela asked softly when she noticed Wayne put down the paper.
"She'll be moving out soon. I'll be heading back to the farm for a bit of rest. Once she's ready to go, just arrange a car for her."
Hela nodded quietly and left the room as Wayne picked up another newspaper.
With Get Out entering its third week in North America, the film also began opening overseas. Successful North American films typically did well internationally—especially in the English-speaking "Five Eyes" markets.
Countries like the UK, New Zealand, Australia, and Canada were essentially Hollywood's backyard.
But Wayne wasn't concerned about international grosses. His confidence in the film aside, he simply had no financial stake in them.
It was still the early '90s, and global film distribution hadn't yet caught up with the speed of the internet era. Wide international releases couldn't happen simultaneously with U.S. ones.
That also meant complications with foreign box office accounting. Some films could still be screening overseas six months after being pulled from U.S. theaters.
Wayne's full focus was on North America, where the real profits lay. The higher the domestic box office, the greater his return.
As per his original contract, all of his percentage earnings were based strictly on North American grosses. This was a deliberate move to prevent Warner Bros. from playing games with overseas accounting.
He had no illusions about the integrity of major studios. When it came to money, they were ruthless—whether it was box office splits, foreign distribution, or Wall Street hedge funds.
---
As June rolled in, Wayne attended the Batman Returns premiere before heading back to his family's farm with his dogs. He needed a break—and some time with his parents.
Once Batman hit theaters, it cast a huge shadow over the competition. While Terminator from Paramount posed some challenge, it was still overshadowed by the caped crusader.
Get Out's screen count shrank to 1,728 theaters, and that weekend it earned $14.32 million. Combined with $17.36 million from the prior four weekdays, the film's North American total crossed $150 million, landing at $159.44 million.
In the brutal heat of summer movie season, Get Out had pretty much hit its ceiling.
---
"Congratulations, honey."
Anna Garfield put down her paper and gave her son a proud hug. Wayne's box office success had far exceeded even her expectations.
"Mom, I told you I'd make you proud," Wayne whispered into her ear, gently patting her back.
"Boss, call from Jimmy." Nina handed him the phone after the mother-son moment ended.
"Wayne, did you see the numbers?" Jimmy's voice came bursting through as soon as Wayne brought the phone to his ear.
"Of course."
"Well, I spoke with Warner Bros. today. They'll try to maintain the film's screen count, but it's unlikely. The good news? Get Out is now second on the yearly box office chart! Don't you want to take down Home Alone?"
Wayne did a mental review of the rankings. Sure enough, Home Alone—a Disney property—had grossed around $170 million. Get Out wasn't far behind.
The gap was a little over $10 million, but it was a steep hill to climb. Get Out was rated R and had far less mass appeal than the kid-friendly juggernaut. Not to mention, Disney had a monster hit on the way: Aladdin.
"Jimmy, I don't think that's realistic. It's an R-rated film—there's only so much juice left to squeeze. Even with Warner's support, it's highly unlikely we'll bridge that gap."
The line went quiet for a moment. Wayne figured Jimmy must have stepped back into his office.
"Wayne, we could buy some of the tickets ourselves. Use Warner to help coordinate with theaters. It's not hard to pull off!"
It wasn't a bad idea. Many Hollywood studios had done similar things before. But after thinking it over, Wayne shook his head.
"Let it go, Jimmy. Let nature take its course. This is only my second film. We'll have plenty of chances down the road. Let's not fake it. Anything else?"
"Yeah—20th Century Fox reached out this morning. They want to set up a meeting with you. Unfortunately, I had to tell them you'd left for the farm a few days ago."
"It's about the sequel to Happy Death Day. To play it safe, Thomson Rossman is hoping you'll agree to direct again. What do you think—interested?"
"Turn them down. I've got my own plans."
Wayne ended the call decisively.
In Hollywood, whenever a film becomes a box office hit, and there's even a sliver of profit potential left, you can bet the studio will push hard for a sequel. Production companies, distributors, even actors themselves will do whatever it takes to keep the franchise going.
Compared to the high risk of launching original films, sequels to successful ones are a safer bet. The chances of repeat success are much higher, and the profit margins can be several times greater.
What's more, actors typically earn significantly more for sequels—sometimes double or triple their original fee. For that reason, both performers and their agents are often the loudest advocates for a continuation.
Examples are everywhere. Some of the biggest Hollywood A-listers owe their status entirely to successful franchises.
Take Robert Downey Jr. and Johnny Depp, for instance. These two are textbook examples of franchise-built A-listers. Without Iron Man or Pirates of the Caribbean, no studio would've paid them those astronomical salaries.
RDJ may have earned a modest fee for Iron Man 1, but everything after that—from the sequels to The Avengers films—earned him upwards of $20 million per movie. He alone was pocketing a giant slice of the pie.
And Depp? By the later Pirates films, his fee had ballooned to absurd levels—rumors suggest he earned over $35 million just for Dead Man's Chest.
Whether it's a major studio or a mid-sized production house, profit is always the primary goal in Hollywood. That's a truth that never changes.
Now, it had already been a year since Happy Death Day finished its run. So it wasn't surprising that 20th Century Fox was finally ready to move forward with the sequel.
---
"What's wrong, honey?"
Anna asked, noticing her son spacing out after hanging up.
"20th Century Fox wants me to return for the sequel to Happy Death Day," Wayne replied calmly. "I told my agent to turn it down." He gave her a brief explanation, then exchanged a glance with Nina and quietly left the living room with her.
"Did Halle Berry move out yet?" Wayne asked once they were outside the estate, eyes drifting to the grazing cattle in the distance.
Nina had been handling all communications with Halle. Wayne hadn't answered any of her calls for the past few days. Now that everything was wrapped up, he preferred to end things quietly, without the media making a fuss.
"She moved out this morning," Nina confirmed. "Hela arranged a car for her."
She looked at her boss with undisguised contempt—pure scumbag, she thought.
In Nina's eyes, Wayne was far from a good man. Especially when it came to women, he showed little respect.
"Call Halle at some point," Wayne said. "Let her know I'll be in touch about a role when the next project starts."
To Wayne, it was just a transaction. Halle had played her part in the film's promotional campaign, and Warner Bros. had rewarded her with the recognition she deserved. Whatever she'd given him in return would be repaid with the promised screen role.
Beyond that, there was no further relationship.
Sure, Wayne had enjoyed the Black Pearl's body, but to him, that was just part of the deal.
---
Wayne stayed at the family ranch for a while, using the peace and quiet to unwind. Aside from occasionally mulling over ideas for his next project, he spent most of his time with his parents.
Meanwhile, the North American summer box office race raged on.
Get Out had already made a huge splash, but because of its genre and R-rating, its momentum had begun to slow. The number of theaters showing the film had shrunk to 650, and after crossing $160 million in total gross, its daily earnings had dropped to tens of thousands—and were still trending downward.
Warner Bros. had pinned high hopes on Batman Returns, but while it had opened strong, it quickly lost steam. Although it beat out Terminator, it still allowed Paramount's thriller to pull in over $80 million.
By Batman's third weekend, Paramount struck back hard with the wide release of A Few Good Men, which completely overwhelmed the fading Caped Crusader and stole the weekend box office crown.
In the end, Tim Burton's Batman Returns brought in a total of $120 million. While it didn't meet Warner's sky-high expectations, it wasn't a financial loss.
But the shattered goodwill among fans had cast a long shadow over the Batman franchise's future.