Hollywood Road

"Bill," Murphy looked at Bill Rossis, "are you talking about a package service?"

CAA's one-stop package service was well-known in Hollywood, but since when did they start noticing small projects like his?

"No, it's a personal service from me," Bill Rossis shook his head. Such a small project would never catch the company's eye. "You focus on the movie, and I'll handle finding suitable behind-the-scenes personnel from within CAA. It won't be difficult."

If it weren't for the low investment of the film and Murphy Stanton's lack of fame, Bill Rossis would have applied for the company's package service long ago. Now, Murphy Stanton, a super potential client, was still just that—a potential client.

According to relevant laws and regulations, agents cannot directly participate in film production, but they can help find suitable personnel. Murphy thought for a few seconds and then nodded.

"I'll let you handle these," he said directly, "but I can't give you a five percent commission anymore."

"No problem," Bill Rossis wasn't short-sighted. He was looking at the bigger picture. "We'll discuss that later."

CAA publicly claims to have a flat management structure where all agents are equal, but this is far from reality. Everyone wants to be in the upper floors of the building.

Moreover, every CAA agent dreams of becoming the next Michael Ovitz.

"Oh, one more thing," Murphy remembered something else, "I need four main actors. I've already talked to Carrie about the female lead, and I have a rough idea for one of the male roles. Can you find me two more white actors?"

Bill Rossis nodded. "Don't worry, I'll get back to you soon."

Murphy and Bill Rossis discussed work matters until evening. Having an agent indeed made many things easier; otherwise, the existence of talent agencies would be pointless.

His project was too small for CAA to notice, so Bill Rossis could only offer a quasi-personal package service. But what if CAA provided their one-stop package service?

Leaving the building, Murphy couldn't help but think about these questions.

Frankly speaking, he didn't mind CAA's packaging policy. It was beneficial for directors like him without a fixed team, which is why Hollywood studios and other talent agencies accepted it.

At least it would reduce his workload significantly, allowing him to focus all his energy on film production.

This policy, initiated by Michael Ovitz, was the cornerstone of CAA's strength and could alleviate many client company headaches.

For example, in the past, TV stations had to find hosts, actors, producers, and writers individually, dealing with many different agents.

Ovitz, when he couldn't find stars, thought of attracting them with projects: preparing screenwriters, producers, and directors to create an enticing project for stars.

This way, talent agencies could provide all the artists for a program, making it easier for TV stations and shifting from passively chasing stars to actively creating projects.

This service naturally extended to film and TV production.

While other talent agencies were still simply chasing stars, Michael Ovitz had already recruited top talent for every position in TV and film at CAA, offering one-stop package services to Hollywood studios.

Today, this packaging service is quite prevalent in Hollywood because it meets the needs of many film companies, directors, and producers.

In Murphy's view, this model suited the current development of Hollywood. The only downside was that CAA's one-stop package service charged an additional commission, usually ten percent, not just from box office revenue but including all related products.

Although he didn't qualify for CAA's service now, thinking about it from another perspective, he couldn't help but feel the pinch.

As night fell, Murphy left Century City and drove to Beverly Hills, heading straight to Rodeo Drive. This is Beverly Hills' busiest commercial street. After circling around, he finally found a parking spot. After parking, he walked a hundred meters to a bar.

Looking up at the bar sign to confirm he was at the right place, Murphy paid the entrance fee and walked in. A burst of pop metal music immediately hit his ears.

Since it was still early, the bar wasn't crowded, but the lighting was dim, making it hard for Murphy to spot his target.

"Sir," a waiter noticed Murphy looking around and approached him, "can I help you with something?"

"Ah, yes," Murphy stopped and said, "I have an appointment with Mr. James Franco here..."

Before he could finish, a hand lightly tapped his shoulder from behind. Turning around, he saw James Franco with his naturally curly hair standing behind him.

"Over here," Franco gestured for him to follow.

"Thank you," Murphy politely said to the waiter before following Franco. They walked through the first-floor dance floor, climbed a wooden staircase to the second floor, and sat at a table overlooking the first floor.

"You're so clueless!" James Franco handed Murphy a can of stout. "Couldn't you think to come upstairs?"

Murphy opened the bottle, took a sip, shrugged, and joked, "I was just about to."

They clinked bottles, and Franco downed half of his drink before nodding at Murphy. "What do you need?"

"I'm preparing a new project," Murphy said, putting down his beer. "There's a role perfect for you."

James Franco shook his head without hesitation. "One thirty-thousand-dollar indie film is enough."

"This one is definitely not a thirty-thousand-dollar indie," Murphy assured him. "My investment has multiplied several times."

"Your film only made a million," Franco scoffed. "I don't believe you have more money to invest."

Murphy awkwardly scratched his nose, picked up his beer, and toasted Franco, who joined him in drinking most of it.

"I consider you a friend," Murphy began again, "so I thought of you first."

"Friend?" Franco pointed at himself. "When you're in trouble, I'm your friend. When you're not, do you even think of me?"

Murphy grabbed another beer, opened it, and handed it to Franco. "Jim, am I that kind of person?"