Santa Monica Airport.
Amy Pascal, fresh from visiting the [?] set in San Francisco, descended the company Falcon jet with her assistant Vanessa. A driver waited beside the runway.
The two women climbed into the car, which headed toward Burbank for a meeting already in progress.
In the back seat, Amy reached for some files to review en route when a faint voice drifted from the car radio up front. She glanced up. The driver noticed and moved to switch it off, but she stopped him, gesturing to turn the volume higher.
"Michael, are you saying Dead Poets Society winning only Best Director was outright rigged?"
"Absolutely. It's grossly unfair to Barry Levinson, he made a great film and didn't get the recognition he deserved. And I've never heard of a movie winning just Best Director. It's a joke."
"Okay, Michael, easy. Have you seen Mike Nichols's The Graduate?"
"Of course. Love it."
"Well, I hate to break it to you, but The Graduate also won only Best Director."
"Oh. Really?"
"Really."
"But at least Simon Westeros's Best Score win is questionable too. He might be decent, but compared to John Williams and the others? He's nowhere near ready for an Oscar. That's pure Daenerys lobbying."
"Thanks for the call, Michael. This is Voice of L.A., your pal John McLaughlin. Today's topic: 'What on earth happened at this year's Oscars?' Let's take the next caller."
"Hi, Matthew. Good afternoon."
"Hello, ma'am. Your name?"
"Andy," the woman on the line jumped in before he could finish. "First off, Matthew, that last guy's just a biased idiot."
"Please, no personal attacks, Andy. But feel free to share your view."
"Everyone can see Daenerys got shafted this year. They produced so many great films last year, When Harry Met Sally…, Pulp Fiction, Rain Man, Dead Poets Society, Steel Magnolias. God, I adore Steel Magnolias. Saw it five times; it made my mother cry. And When Harry Met Sally…, Billy Crystal and Meg Ryan are perfect together. Yet the Oscars gave Daenerys only eleven nominations, barely half of Warner's nineteen. And Warner's slate? Couldn't care less."
"Warner… well, Sigourney Weaver in Gorillas in the Mist was solid."
"Ha, see, Matthew? You had to think about it. But you could rattle off Daenerys titles without blinking."
"Maybe. Though that's partly because it's today's topic. I stay neutral. Go on, Andy. What about Michael's points on Levinson and Westeros's score?"
"I stand by it, he's an idiot," Andy said, ignoring the civility nudge. "Anyone who followed Rain Man gossip knows Barry Levinson walked away in post-production, publicly accused Daenerys of meddling, and disowned the project. Dustin Hoffman and Tom Cruise backed him then, distancing themselves too. Now it's a hit, and they're grabbing credit. Disgusting. Hoffman's speech was clownish, he contradicted himself. The finished Rain Man we saw has nothing to do with them. Simon Westeros ran post, composed the score himself. Without him, there will be no film. He absolutely deserves Best Score and more."
"…"
Amy listened intently the whole drive.
The callers covered the full spectrum of media chatter about the 61st Oscars over the past week.
It was already Friday, April 7.
More than a week after the ceremony, the furor hadn't cooled; the shadow PR war between Daenerys and CAA continued. Yet the two callers one obstinate, one forceful showed Daenerys clearly holding the upper hand in public opinion.
Hoffman's emotional speech had swayed many of the 43 million live viewers, but the principals' earlier disavowals couldn't be erased.
With minimal prompting, outlets dug up countless contradictions in Hoffman's past and present statements from public records.
Daenerys's quiet steering tipped coverage decisively their way.
Even Dead Poets Society's lone Director win was framed as rightful compensation.
The film had deserved nominations in Picture, Director, Actor, and Original Screenplay; landing only two was evidence of Academy suppression, not weakness, especially when mediocrities like Working Girl racked up nods.
The Director win balanced the scales. As for Simon's Score, spotlighting his pivotal post-production role successfully shifted sentiment.
The two-million-dollar PR push had yielded far greater returns.
During Oscar week (March 24–30), Rain Man already dipping below four million weekly rebounded 18% in its fifteenth week, adding $5.11 million for a $138 million cumulative.
It didn't stop there. The awards buzz drove another surge the following week (March 31–April 6): up 42%, $7.25 million more, pushing past $145 million.
At this pace, three more weeks would eclipse Pulp Fiction's $156 million and claim the 1988 North American crown.
Dead Poets Society overtook Crocodile Dundee II to land tenth for the year.
Daenerys thus occupied seven of 1988's top ten, three under other labels When Harry Met Sally…, Pulp Fiction, Basic Instinct a feat unlikely to be matched soon.
Meanwhile, MGM emboldened by Rain Man's runaway success dug through old contracts for loopholes, demanding $100 million over alleged soundtrack and merchandising discrepancies while again claiming rights to The Hobbit.
The hundred million was fantasy.
Everyone knew MGM just wanted a bigger slice.
Their lawyers hinted at settlement even as they roared.
Daenerys legal assessed low odds of MGM prevailing; Amy rejected talks outright, knowing Simon's stance, she didn't disturb him in Australia and responded firmly: ready to litigate.
The world was full of bullies who backed down from strength.
Litigation meant hefty fees, but a hard line now would deter future nuisances. MGM, in decline, wouldn't burn tens of millions on a long-shot case; the suit wouldn't escalate much.
Amy reached Burbank headquarters. Robert Rehme and distribution executives awaited.
April meant summer loomed; the meeting focused on marketing The Bodyguard and The Sixth Sense. Final post awaited Simon's return from Melbourne, but pre-release campaigns could launch.
Settling in as materials were passed around, Robert asked, "How's Brenda Starr(Dunno if its the right name) progressing?"
"Smoothly," Amy said. "Daryl's far stronger than Bo Derek. I'm excited about the final film."
The New World holdover comic adaptation had begun mid-March.
Simon rejected Bo Derek's acting and draw; Daryl Hannah, memorable in Blade Runner, Splash, Wall Street fit Brenda Starr perfectly. The script was reworked; budget $15 million.
Daenerys planned sole financing, but the other two original partners refused to exit. Final split: $5 million each, Daenerys taking 15% distribution fee.
Two-month shoot, two-month post; targeted mid-July completion, early October release, a quieter slot inevitable as the studio grew.
Daenerys had fifteen confirmed releases this year starting with Blue Thunder Angels; not everything could crowd summer or holidays.
If the cut excelled, scheduling could shift.
Melbourne.
Oscar ripples reached the Batman set, Simon being in Australia helped.
Most people formed opinions quickly.
As Australia's "son-in-law," Simon's back-to-back technical wins Editing, now Score beyond directing dominated local coverage. Speculation about how many different Oscars he might collect became a national pastime.
For Simon, acclaim or controversy barely dented his focus.
Janet, seeing the Score backlash, briefly considered leaking another "Blizzard" tape but was stopped. Every Oscars stirred debate; so did many of Simon's moves. Countering each would exhaust him.
As the dust settled, Batman neared completion.
The planned thirteen-week shoot should have wrapped before April 7, but Simon's February collapse and subsequent delays plus inevitable big-production hiccups, pushed into late April.
Still, the December release left ample post time.
Finally, April 19, afternoon, in a massive soundstage built in an abandoned factory west of Melbourne.
The last Batcave scene finished. Simon reviewed the takes carefully, then announced loudly to the crew: "Batman, that's a wrap."
Three-plus months of grind ended. Amid applause, Adam Baldwin and others clearly pre-arranged hoisted Simon and tossed him into the cave pool.
Caught off guard, he could have resisted but didn't. Surfacing, he laughed, issued mock threats. The crew packed up amid the fun; a big wrap party was set for evening.