The Best Movie Actor In Hollywood!

Chapter 297

Negotiations between the production team and Helen dragged on for over two weeks, the main points of contention being Matthew's salary and the right to have a say in the casting of the female lead.

Naturally, one side wanted to pay less while the other demanded more. But beyond the salary itself, Matthew and Helen had another condition: the lead actress could not be paid more than him.

This was hardly an unusual demand; in Hollywood commercial films, the female lead is typically paid significantly less than her male counterpart.

An actor's salary on a production isn't just a number; it represents status and power on set. As the male lead, no actor wants the female lead to hold a higher status—and thus more power—than him.

And the right to participate in casting the female lead wasn't something the production team would grant to just any actor, even though they believed the chosen actress must, above all, have chemistry with the already-confirmed male star.

The film's key players were extremely cautious in this regard.

In a way, negotiation itself is a process of mutual compromise. If both sides refuse to budge on their terms, the talks will inevitably collapse.

By mid-June, Helen, representing Matthew, had settled all terms with the team behind Mr. & Mrs. Smith, and Matthew signed a contract that was over a hundred pages long.

In the contract, Matthew was treated as a quasi-A-list star regarding the day-to-day life and work of the cast and crew. As long as the budget wasn't particularly tight, Hollywood wouldn't mistreat an actor in this regard. After all, the Screen Actors Guild wasn't just for show. If unnecessary trouble arose between the two parties and the matter escalated to the union level, the production would suffer greatly.

Over the past few years since he'd arrived in Hollywood, Matthew had come to appreciate the benefits of joining the union. Although at his income level the annual dues could run into the tens of thousands of dollars, the protection it provided was tangible.Hollywood's major unions were no puppets of the studios, and their battles with the Producers Guild of America, which represents the studios and their investors, were nothing new.

Matthew had heard that the agreements between the Producers Guild of America and unions like the Screen Actors Guild, the Directors Guild, and the Writers Guild were set to expire at the end of 2007. The unions were reportedly dissatisfied with the fixed percentages in their contracts and wanted to negotiate a higher cut from DVD sales and new on-demand internet rights, which could lead to an open conflict similar to the one in the late 1980s.

According to the agreement between Hollywood's major unions and the Producers Guild of America, key roles like lead actors, directors, and screenwriters received a share of the revenue generated after a film's production.

This was a firm rule among the unions, and the share, though small, provided a stable, long-term income.

During the 1988 Hollywood strike, the major unions clashed with the Producers Guild of America over a share of home video sales and rentals.

After the strike, a twenty-year agreement was reached, and its expiration was now only a few years away.

For star actors, this back-end cut wasn't a huge amount, but when push came to shove, even the biggest names had to stand with their unions.

Matthew vaguely recalled that there had been a writers' strike around 2008.

Of course, he would see what happened when the time came. For now, his main focus was Mr. & Mrs. Smith.

The contract he signed with the studio guaranteed him a $10 million salary, paid in three installments, with no back-end participation. While the dollar was depreciating and $10 million wasn't worth what it used to be for someone like Johnny Depp, it was still a solid B-list, or low A-list, salary.

Furthermore, after Helen argued her case, Akiva Goldsman agreed to let Matthew participate in the casting for the female lead—though only with the right to make suggestions, given the importance of chemistry between the male and female protagonists.

Having secured the right to be involved in the leading lady's casting, Matthew and Helen compromised on other points and no longer insisted that the production limit the actress's salary.

After all, the list of potential candidates included names like Nicole Kidman and Julia Roberts, who clearly commanded—and still commanded—salaries on a much higher tier than Matthew.

However, Julia Roberts quickly declined the offer to audition, as the role was a significant departure from her established career path.

Catherine Zeta-Jones and Cate Blanchett also turned down audition offers; the former wasn't interested, while the latter was busy filming The Aviator and had a scheduling conflict.

Much like Matthew, an actor who is consistently successful and on the verge of superstardom often receives a flood of audition offers, making it seem as if all of Hollywood is after you.

Conversely, a star whose career is in a steep decline has very, very few options, no matter how successful they once were.

After Julia Roberts, Catherine Zeta-Jones, and Cate Blanchett turned down their audition offers, the production's only remaining top choice for the leading lady was Nicole Kidman.

Matthew, however, remembered all too well that Nicole Kidman had become box office poison after winning her Oscar, destroying not just a film's ticket sales but also the careers of its director and male lead.

Considering the risks, Matthew had no desire to work with her.

But he was only the lead actor, and auditions hadn't even started yet, so he couldn't say anything.

Matthew knew perfectly well that running to Goldsman and claiming Nicole Kidman was unsuitable for some vague reason would only be met with ridicule. It was better to wait and see how the auditions actually played out.

Besides, he'd been informed that the production team had decided to announce and expand the auditions, since several of the invited actresses had dropped out.

It was obvious the team had its own reservations about Nicole Kidman.

The team had already signed Matthew as the male lead, and upon closer inspection, it was clear that he and Nicole Kidman weren't a great match.

Matthew was also considering candidates for the role. Although he didn't have a deciding vote, the choice of the female lead was directly linked to the male lead's success or failure—otherwise, he wouldn't have asked Helen to fight for that power.

After some thought, he suddenly recalled a post-apocalyptic steampunk film he'd seen once where Charlize Theron played a formidable heroine. Her powerful physique and swift, panther-like movements had left a deep impression on him.

In his view, since Mrs. Smith was a tough, highly skilled female assassin, she shouldn't be some delicate, skinny woman who looked like she'd fall over in a strong wind. Charlize had a broader frame and even a slightly muscular build, but it was concealed by her height and wasn't immediately obvious.

She wasn't the slender, graceful type of actress.

Perhaps Charlize could be encouraged to submit her resume?

Unfortunately, he couldn't decide on the lead actress himself; otherwise, he would have definitely knocked Nicole Kidman out of contention.

As for whether Charlize would agree, and if so, whether she'd pass the audition—that was out of his hands.

For some reason, Matthew felt as though he was taking on the duties of a producer, even though he wasn't one. In truth, if this were any other film—like Pirates of the Caribbean or Dawn of the Dead—it wouldn't matter as much who played the female lead. But the interplay between the male and female roles in Mr. & Mrs. Smith was so crucial that if something went wrong with one of the characters, the entire film would be a wash.

Of course, a guy like Matthew could never imagine that he himself would be the problem.

Besides, the production team had already held its first casting call.

Matthew then contacted Charlize, who happened to be in Los Angeles, and invited her for a drink at the Viper Room.

"Haven't seen you in months."

Inside a booth at the Viper Room, Matthew looked at Charlize. "You're back in shape."

Charlize raised her wine glass to Matthew and said, "I'm never losing weight for a film again. I'd much rather enjoy my wine."

Matthew took a sip from his glass. "That's not exactly healthy."

Charlize replied, "I already got what I wanted. There's no point in holding back."

"That's true." Matthew put on a thoughtful expression. "Let me think, what did Mandela say about you? Oh, right. 'South Africa's most brilliant diamond.'"

He smiled. "Charlize, you're a national treasure now."

"A national treasure?" Charlize smiled back. "No way, you're exaggerating."

"Reality is even more dramatic," Matthew said earnestly. "Didn't the American press say that you're the one who put South Africa on the map?"

Charlize echoed, "Put South Africa on the map?"

After a pause, she suddenly changed the subject. "You didn't invite me here just to chat. What's up?"

Matthew didn't beat around the bush. "Do you have time to shoot a new film?"

Charlize thought for a moment before answering, "I have a film coming out at the end of the year, so yes."

"Have you heard of Mr. & Mrs. Smith from Summit Entertainment?" Matthew saw Charlize nod and continued, "I've signed on as the male lead, and the production is about to hold a big audition for the female lead. I think the role would be a good fit for you, so I'm asking if you're interested."

"I know about the project," Charlize replied. "My agent recommended it to me."

Matthew said at once, "That would be great. We could be in a movie together."

Charlize smiled and added, "My agent already submitted my information to the Mr. & Mrs. Smith team. And, not surprisingly, I'll be auditioning."

Hearing her words, Matthew wasn't surprised. After all, the vast majority of female stars in that era, after winning a Best Actress Oscar, turned to commercial films to recoup the high fees invested in their Oscar campaigns as quickly as possible. And the lead role in Mr. & Mrs. Smith was far more substantial than a purely commercial, eye-candy role.

They then changed the subject and chatted until 10 p.m., when they left the Viper Room and went their separate ways.