Saturday, May 20, 2023
"These views are insane," Jenna said, leaning on the balcony, her arms resting on the railing as she looked out toward the horizon.
Below, the city of Cannes stretched out. These days, the city felt far more alive. Not just because of the usual tourism of the French Riviera, but because of everything the Cannes Film Festival brought with it.
The festival had officially begun on May 16, and since then the city had shifted into a different rhythm. Fuller streets, constant movement, badges hanging from necks, cars coming in and out of hotels, and conversations in different languages crossing at every corner.
Owen and the others had arrived at the hotel just a few minutes earlier. It was May 20, and they would be staying until the 27th, the final day of the festival.
Beyond the buildings, the sea: blue, open, stretching as far as the eye could see. From that height, the perspective changed. It wasn't just beautiful. It was almost hypnotic.
The light fell cleanly over the water, marking a calm surface.
Having this view wasn't a coincidence. Jenna, along with Owen, was staying at the Hôtel Martinez, one of the most iconic hotels in the city. Five stars, historic, and during these weeks, completely overflowing.
The demand was absurd.
Rooms were occupied by studios, actors, directors, producers, and more people from the industry. And they weren't in just any room.
They were in a penthouse, the highest-category accommodation unit, located on the top floor of the building. It was defined by extreme luxury, vast space, panoramic views, and personalized services.
So the view was no accident.
Jenna stayed there a few more seconds, looking out at the sea before turning around.
Inside, the contrast was immediate.
The room was spacious and very luxurious. The double bed sat at the center of the space, large, with white sheets that looked freshly laid.
Owen was near the bed, finishing arranging his things. "It is," he nodded, having already spent a few minutes earlier taking in the view.
Jenna walked back inside, gently closing the balcony door behind her. "How much did this cost?" she finally asked, a mix of curiosity and mild disbelief in her voice.
"Twenty thousand dollars a night," Owen replied casually, putting away the last piece of clothing and closing the suitcase before setting it in a corner.
Jenna looked at him. "One hundred forty thousand dollars just for our room…" she calculated under her breath, sitting on the edge of the bed. "I'm guessing you didn't pay all of that."
"Exactly. Otherwise it would've been a pretty significant expense," Owen said, walking closer. "Neon covered most of it."
The film already had distribution, and in this case Neon was taking Cannes very seriously. It wasn't just about being there, they were in the Official Competition and had high expectations for the film.
So flights, hotel, transportation, and press were all part of the official marketing. Everything covered for the core group of the project.
"Neon will spend around five hundred thousand dollars on Cannes overall…" Owen added, dropping onto the bed, testing the mattress.
He said it casually, but in reality, it felt like a lot of money. That was what A24 had spent on the entire marketing for Paranormal Activity.
Jenna watched him for a second before lying down as well, settling beside him and wrapping an arm around him. "And how much did you put in yourself?" she asked, knowing there were some extra expenses Neon wouldn't be covering.
Neon could easily cover premium rooms, two thousand, five thousand, even seven thousand dollars a night, but this was something else. A penthouse at the Hôtel Martinez during Cannes week was far from standard.
And it wasn't just the room.
The studio covered the key cast: Owen, Bryan, Ethan, Emma, Jacob, Lianne, Derek… the names that mattered for press and industry.
But not everyone who traveled to Cannes fell into that category.
Gaten and Caleb, mainly.
Neon wasn't going to cover them. They weren't part of the core group that justified that level of expense within the festival strategy. So Owen decided to handle it himself.
He invited them with everything covered. Both accepted without hesitation, surprised. They hadn't expected to be there, and it would be quite an experience.
Then there were Elizabeth, Sarah, Tyler, and Eric.
They had no direct connection with Neon, so the only option was for Owen to invite them, fully paid, and provide them with accreditations.
Matt was the only one who didn't accept the fully paid trip. He was there, but he paid for his own flights, hotel room, and other expenses. He didn't want Owen to keep spending more money than necessary.
The only thing he did need from him was access.
Because Cannes didn't work like other festivals.
The Cannes Film Festival wasn't open like Sundance or Toronto. Real access came through accreditations. The general public did have options, yes, but limited. Long lines, uncertainty, and the possibility of getting in only if seats were left.
Nothing guaranteed.
As a producer of a film in Official Competition, Owen could grant accreditations. And he gave them to Matt and the others.
His father and his brother weren't there. Not because they weren't invited, but for something much simpler: work.
Both of them had responsibilities far too demanding to disappear for an entire week on another continent.
Owen stayed silent for a few seconds, as if finishing some calculations in his head.
"And I'm going to spend around three hundred thousand dollars," he finally said, making a slight grimace.
Even though Neon was covering a significant portion, everything else was on him. The people he had decided to bring, the extras outside the core group, and above all, the hotel.
Owen wanted everyone to stay in this iconic hotel.
And as for Jenna and himself, he had wanted the best room possible.
"Well, you wanted the penthouse," Jenna commented, amused, barely moving from her position on the bed, just turning her head slightly to look at him.
"Yeah… and it ended up costing seventy thousand out of my pocket," Owen replied, letting out a soft sigh.
Neon had set a maximum of ten thousand dollars per night for him.
Owen had decided to double it. Pay the difference, go up to twenty thousand, and get the penthouse.
It wasn't something he did every day. In fact, in his personal life, he rarely spent money on that kind of luxury. It didn't interest him much.
But this was part of the experience.
Cannes wasn't something ordinary. It wasn't a recurring expense or something that would become normal. And if he was going to be there, with his film in Official Competition at the Cannes Film Festival, he preferred to do it without holding back.
"I'll make it back with the two vlogs I'm going to upload anyway," he added, his tone lighter now.
Jenna let out a short laugh. "Those vlogs are going to make you a lot of money."
It wasn't much of an exaggeration.
The Oscars vlog had surpassed forty million views. That single video had generated him over three hundred thousand dollars between monetization and sponsorships.
Now Cannes: seven full days. Way too much material to fit into a single video.
That's why Owen decided to split it into two parts. Not just because of the length, but because the potential was much higher than Sundance or even the Oscars.
Cannes offered more days, and therefore, far more moments.
Jenna would appear much more directly, not as a brief cameo, but as a natural part of everything. Officially his partner. That alone attracted a massive amount of attention.
Jacob, Emma, Caleb would also be there, and, with some luck, spontaneous moments with Bryan and Ethan.
The content worked because it didn't feel like content.
When Owen had started doing vlogs, he hadn't expected much. But the response had been clear. People connected with it. With the feeling of watching something authentic, with access to an environment that usually wasn't seen that way. Without the usual superficiality.
If everything went as planned, those two videos could easily generate six hundred thousand dollars or even more.
Jenna watched him for another second, entertained, before reaching out and lightly poking his cheek with her finger, more out of boredom than anything else.
"Send me my share later and I'll pay it, Mr. Producer," she said with a faint smile.
Owen turned his head slightly toward her without pulling away. "Seriously?" he replied. "It's not cheap. Just this room… half would be thirty-five thousand dollars."
Jenna didn't hesitate. "Yes, seriously. I'm not a freeloader girlfriend. I have money to spend on special occasions."
Seventy thousand dollars was a considerable expense for her. Much more than for Owen.
During the filming of Wednesday, she had earned around two hundred forty thousand dollars. Compared to that, thirty-five thousand wasn't a small number.
Same with Black Mirror. As a co-producer, Owen had paid her a bit over forty thousand dollars for work that had lasted more than a month.
It was more than fair, much better than Netflix, and he had also given her backend: 1.5%.
If it sold well, that could easily translate into over one hundred thousand dollars.
She didn't have Owen's level of wealth, who, even while constantly financing projects, still had over twenty million available, but she wasn't in a limited position either.
She could afford it. Not as something everyday. But as a one-time decision.
"Alright," Owen nodded, a smile forming on his face as he liked that attitude.
They stayed like that for a few more minutes, in silence, unhurried. The room remained calm until Owen, almost out of inertia, forced himself to move.
He sat up first, bracing his hands on the bed.
"Let's grab something to eat. If we're paying this much, the hotel food better be worth it," he said lightly.
Jenna nodded, sitting up as well. "How long are you free?"
Owen glanced at the watch on his wrist. "In an hour I have to meet with the Neon team. Press strategy, what to say, what not to say…" He paused briefly, letting out a soft exhale. "That kind of stuff."
Jenna nodded, knowing it was standard. And she also knew Owen wasn't exactly a fan of it.
They left the room, and as they walked down the hallway, Owen, looking at his phone, said, "My mom, Sarah, Matt, and the others are already downstairs."
When he didn't get a response, Owen turned his head and noticed Jenna's more reserved expression. "What's wrong?" he asked.
"Nothing… just a bit nervous about seeing your mom and sister again," Jenna admitted.
Owen nodded slightly, understanding where the nerves were coming from.
Their relationship had gone public on May 1. But both families had known before that.
Even so, they had only had one real interaction.
Owen had met Jenna's family over a calm lunch. No unnecessary formality. Everything flowed naturally, and the result had been good.
Jenna's experience, on the other hand, had been different.
She had had dinner with Owen's family, and it hadn't gone as well as she would've liked. Not because they had rejected her, but it was hard to build a real connection in such a short time. Just a few hours, it hadn't been enough.
And inevitably, the comparison was there.
Owen had fit in easily in her environment. She, on the other hand, felt like she had fallen a bit short.
It didn't help that, outside of work, Jenna wasn't exactly the most extroverted person.
"You're putting too much pressure on yourself about that," Owen said.
"It matters. It's your family," Jenna replied without hesitation.
"I'm not saying it doesn't matter," he answered calmly, "just that it doesn't all have to click right away. It was one dinner. It's normal if it's not perfect," Owen said as they stepped into the elevator, luckily empty.
Owen pressed the button, and the doors closed smoothly as they began descending.
"Of course it's easy for you to say," Jenna added, crossing her arms. "My family adored you."
Owen gave a slight sideways smile, clearly pleased. "I'm good at public relations."
"Shut up," Jenna replied with a hint of envy, nudging him lightly in the ribs.
Owen laughed. "It also helps that your family is much more open," he added, returning to a calmer tone. "Mine isn't. It's not that they didn't like you, they just need more time."
Jenna nodded slightly, looking ahead as the elevator continued downward.
The doors opened into the lobby.
"And speaking of time, now you have it," Owen continued as he stepped out. "Seven days here, same hotel, and we'll be going to screenings together."
"That's true," Jenna said, though there was still some doubt in her voice. "The thing is Sarah. She feels pretty hard to read."
Elizabeth, on the other hand, had seemed different. Elegant, very kind, with that air of someone used to certain environments, but without being unapproachable. Still, she was intimidating.
Sarah was something else. More closed off. Almost like a younger version, but with a temperament that could come off as distant or even arrogant if you didn't know her.
Owen shook his head slightly. "She's not exactly how she seems," he said. "She's shyer than she wants to admit. She just hides it well."
"And she admires you quite a bit," he added.
Jenna looked at him, surprised. "Really?"
Owen frowned slightly, as if the answer were obvious.
"Yeah. Did you forget Wednesday? She loved it. Like half the world… especially people her age."
"Then why didn't she say anything? I don't know… ask me something about the shoot, the dance… anything," Jenna said.
Owen let out a small smile. "Because she's a tsundere."
Jenna looked at him in silence for a second, not entirely sure whether he was serious or not.
But she didn't have time to dwell on it.
When they reached the dining area of the Hôtel Martinez, luxurious and spacious, it didn't take long to find the table with Matt, Tyler, Eric, Elizabeth, and Sarah.
They approached with brief greetings, without much formality. They had already seen each other on the plane, so there was no need to repeat introductions or break the ice from scratch.
They took their seats, and almost immediately, someone from the hotel approached to take their order. They chose something light.
When the waiter stepped away, the conversation naturally picked back up.
Elizabeth looked at Owen with a restrained smile, though clearly excited. "Nervous about tomorrow?" she asked.
Tomorrow, May 21, would be the premiere of Good Will Hunting. At ten at night. At the Grand Théâtre Lumière, the most important venue at the Cannes Film Festival.
"A little, yeah," Owen nodded, not trying to hide it.
It made sense, even for someone like Owen. Cannes was the most prestigious festival for a reason.
A few minutes later, the group grew again.
Gaten, Jacob, Caleb, and Emma joined the table amid greetings, jokes, and an already established sense of ease. There was no stiffness. The dynamic between them was already there, especially between Jacob, Caleb, and the rest.
It was clear they had been spending time together before.
Emma, for her part, blended in effortlessly. She had that natural ease in group settings. Within seconds, she was fully part of the conversation.
'How does she make it look so easy…? 'Jenna thought, watching Emma silently from her seat as she took a small sip of her drink.
The conversation flowed in front of Jenna, shifting topics naturally, jumping between anecdotes and jokes. And while she didn't feel left out, she couldn't quite find the right moment to jump in.
It wasn't discomfort. It was more about rhythm. Timing. And, in part, not yet having that same level of familiarity or shared stories with the group.
A while later, two new figures approached the table.
Ethan Hawke was the first to arrive, greeting Owen warmly with a slight smile. At his side was his daughter, Maya.
"Nice to meet you, I've heard a lot about you, golden boy," Maya said, shaking Owen's hand with a mix of curiosity and a slight nervousness she didn't quite hide.
She hadn't just seen his name repeated constantly in articles, interviews, and news over the past few months, she had also heard about him at home. Her father had spoken positively about him more than once after working together.
And coming from Ethan, that wasn't insignificant. He wasn't someone who praised easily. Much less like that.
Ethan turned his head toward his daughter. 'Seriously…?' he thought, slightly surprised that she had used the nickname "golden boy" right in front of Owen.
Just another internet nickname, something born from articles and repeated comments until it became almost a collective joke.
Then again, considering it was his daughter, it didn't surprise him that much.
Owen raised his eyebrows slightly when he heard it.
Another one.
Indie genius, golden boy… they all sounded a bit exaggerated to him.
Jenna, from her seat, had to hold back a laugh when she saw the brief moment of confusion on Owen's face.
For a second, Maya seemed to realize what she had said. Her expression shifted slightly, as if she were about to explain herself or correct it.
But Owen smiled before she could. "Thanks. I've also heard quite a bit about you from your father," he replied, returning to his usual calm tone.
"I hope they were good things," Maya said with a small smile, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear.
Owen tilted his head slightly, as if mentally going over those conversations.
"Yeah, more or less."
Maya narrowed her eyes, glanced at her father for a second, then looked back at Owen. "What exactly?"
"Good things," he said first. "And others more… specific, like how you should wake up a bit earlier."
The silence lasted barely a second before everyone burst out laughing.
Ethan shook his head, amused, while Maya looked at him with a mix of surprise and restrained reproach.
"It's not like I sleep more than a normal person," she defended herself, adjusting in her chair. "If I go to bed at four in the morning and wake up at twelve, it's the same as someone who sleeps at nine and wakes up at five."
"That's exactly what I'm always trying to explain!" Eric jumped in from the other side of the table, pointing at her as if someone had finally understood him.
That sparked another round of laughter.
"Sure, until you have to do something at eight in the morning," Tyler added, shaking his head.
"Details," Eric replied with a shrug.
Ethan also settled in at the table, and Owen took the opportunity to make quick introductions, Jenna, his mother, and the rest of the group.
That's when Matt, who until then had been more focused on the general conversation, slightly raised his voice to get everyone's attention.
Not abruptly. Just enough to be heard.
"Hey… this afternoon, around five or six, what do you guys think about all going to a screening together?" he suggested, looking around.
There were almost immediate nods.
It was Cannes, and in part, that was why they were there. Not just for the premiere of Owen's film, but to immerse themselves in everything the festival represented.
"Count me in. I'll be free starting at four-thirty," Owen said.
Before that, he had the meeting with Neon, the final suit fitting for the premiere, some internal photos for promotional material, and a one-on-one interview with Variety.
But after that, he was free.
"Me too," Gaten added almost instantly.
"I'm in," Jacob followed, leaning forward slightly.
The rest didn't take long to agree.
Watching a movie together sounded fun.
Maya raised her hand, half-joking. "Can I join?"
"Of course," Matt said, and the others nodded.
"More content for the vlog…" Tyler murmured to himself. The more people, the more chaos, and therefore, better.
"Then we need to decide which one," Matt said, starting to list the options for that time slot:
— The Old Oak. A British social drama.
— Monster, Japanese. A drama with mystery and psychological elements.
— May December. A drama starring Natalie Portman.
— The Delinquents, Argentina. Blends elements of drama, comedy, and philosophical reflection.
— How to Have Sex, a British drama following three teenage girls during a vacation in Crete.
Matt went through each one with a brief synopsis so no one would be choosing completely blind.
Maya looked at him with a clear mix of surprise and admiration. "You really know your stuff."
Matt shrugged, like it was nothing.
Gaten, from beside him, gave him a couple of pats on the shoulder. "A real cinephile," he said with a grin.
"They don't really grab me," Eric commented, making a slight face. "The most entertaining ones seem like The Delinquents and How to Have Sex."
Though, to be honest, that last one didn't fully convince him. The name alone made him imagine something a bit too explicit. And yeah, it wasn't that he had a problem with that, but watching it in a packed theater was another thing.
"Spoken like a true cinephile," Emma joked, recalling some tweets and moments from Eric's Sundance vlog.
"Hey! I can be a cinephile, watch something serious that critics love, you know?" Eric replied, a bit defensive. Then he softened slightly, shrugging. "But why do they all have to feel like such heavy dramas?"
Laughter followed almost immediately.
"Then let's watch the most 'cinephile' film here," Emma said, smiling, resting her chin on her hand.
"Challenge accepted," Eric shot back instantly.
All eyes turned to Matt.
Matt took a second before answering. "I'm not sure how to define which one is the most 'cinephile,'" he admitted, "but I think the big revelation at Cannes, aside from Good Will Hunting, is going to be Monster, the Japanese one."
"Alright, decision made, people," Gaten said, raising his hand slightly. "We're watching Monster."
Everyone agreed. The decision was made.
…
As they walked out of the Monster screening, the group moved through the crowd leaving one of the festival's theaters. There was noise, overlapping conversations, and different reactions hanging in the air.
Eric walked with a thoughtful expression. "I've got to say, it surprised me, in a good way, and that's coming from someone who was expecting something like Parasite."
"Dude," Caleb replied, shaking his head, "just because Parasite was at Cannes and it's Asian doesn't mean this was going to be anything like it."
They kept walking, continuing to talk about the film.
For some, the beginning had been slow. But it had something that ended up working for everyone: the mystery. That feeling of not fully understanding what was going on, and wanting to keep watching to piece it all together.
Even Eric, who usually didn't have patience for that kind of pacing, had ended up hooked.
At one point, the group stopped.
Tyler cleared his throat, exaggerating the gesture. "Alright, ladies," he announced, "we're going to the bathroom and discussing the movie. It's vlog tradition."
"That only happened in one vlog," Owen muttered to himself, amused.
But it had worked, and pretty well.
"So if you're going to do it… I'd appreciate it if you record the conversation. Without showing anything weird, obviously," Tyler finished.
"We can't break tradition," Emma said, amused. "We'll have a better discussion and critique than you guys."
Each group went into their respective restrooms, still talking about the movie.
Eric, now leaning against the wall with his arms crossed after washing his hands, picked it back up. "I mean… it was a good movie. But it's not something that makes me go, 'wow, this is cinema,' you know?"
"Exactly," Gaten said, snapping his fingers. "It was good, I won't deny it, but not to that level."
Owen, standing at the sink and finishing drying his hands, lifted his gaze slightly toward the mirror.
"What is cinema?" he asked, almost in passing.
The silence was immediate.
No one answered. Not because they didn't want to, but because they didn't have an immediate answer. Everyone seemed to be thinking.
Jacob, stepping out of one of the stalls, froze when he heard the question.
Gaten opened his mouth as if to say something, but at that moment, the entrance door opened.
Everyone turned their heads and went still.
An older man, instantly recognizable to all of them, walked in:
Martin Scorsese.
For a second, no one reacted. Owen stood completely still, as if his body had stopped responding.
Jacob froze mid-step, not fully out of the stall.
Eric, leaning against the wall with his arms crossed, looked as if he had literally been paused.
Matt, standing in front of one of the urinals, turned his head and froze with his hand on his crotch as he looked at his idol.
Tyler, holding the camera, didn't even think to lower it.
Everything stopped.
'Cinema just walked through the door!' someone thought, or maybe all of them did, without saying it out loud.
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