1618-1620

Chapter 1618: A Historic Moment 

An Idol. 

Someone people admire, look up to, and are inspired by. Someone who seems untouchable yet is somehow present in every aspect of daily life. 

That’s exactly who Anson has become. 

Everyone's eyes are on Anson—praying for him, cheering him on, celebrating him—as if his success were their own. 

Eventually, this turned into a full-blown celebration, just like Blair and Gloria had planned. Everyone stood behind Anson. 

And all of it came down to timing. 

On one hand, it was precisely because it was Anson—because of the past six months of build-up and growth—that the explosion of Spider-Man 2 could lead to a breakthrough. Only Anson could have brought everything to this point. 

On the other hand, it was the perfect storm of timing, opportunity, and people. The broader cultural backdrop can’t be ignored—every historical moment is the result of its time. 

Anson is no exception. 

As mentioned before, after the turn of the millennium, reality became the new buzzword in the entertainment world. Reality TV shows like American Idol started to rise, and audiences wanted to break the illusion and see their favorite stars as real, reachable people. At the same time, they still craved that glamorous, larger-than-life presence on stage. 

Jennifer Aniston was the first megastar of this new wave. Britney Spears was another. 

And now, there’s Anson. 

Before Spider-Man made its grand debut, movies like Blade, Underworld, Hellboy, and Van Helsing had already opened the doors with their gritty, B-tier superhero vibes, giving the market a vibrant, kaleidoscopic feel. That set the stage for the rise of Captain Jack Sparrow in Pirates of the Caribbean— 

A flamboyant, eyeliner-wearing, cowardly yet charismatic anti-hero who took the world by storm and became a new kind of hero. 

People had grown tired of traditional hero stereotypes. They wanted something new, something different—something that would excite them again. 

From Jack Sparrow’s unconventional flair to Peter Parker’s boy-next-door charm, these two characters may seem like complete opposites, but their success comes from the same root: breaking the mold. They redefined what a hero could be and matched the spirit of the times, becoming trendsetters for a new generation. 

What seemed like coincidence or surprise actually had a clear pattern behind it. 

And now— 

Peter Parker has become a new-generation idol. 

So when Anson finally got the recognition he deserved, everyone was genuinely happy for him. It felt like seeing a close friend achieve something huge. One after another, people couldn’t wait to see him make history, with a jaw-dropping salary that would shake all of Hollywood. 

The funniest part? This news only came from TMZ. There was no official confirmation yet, but people were already throwing parties. 

No one expected such a scene. The buzz was even more intense than the box office miracle of Spider-Man 2. 

Fortunately, people didn’t have to wait long. Both Innovative Artists and Sony-Columbia released official statements confirming the TMZ report. 

Anson Wood will return as Peter Parker in Spider-Man 3. The script is currently being written, and both Sam Raimi and Anson Wood will be involved in the writing process. 

Sony-Columbia also confirmed that this would complete the trilogy. Instead of dragging the story out endlessly, the team is focused on wrapping up Peter Parker’s journey with a meaningful, well-told conclusion. 

This decision was met with overwhelming support and applause. 

Yes, people were disappointed, even sad, that it was ending. Many wished they could grow up with Peter Parker. But from another perspective—movies end, stories end, life goes on. Just like Sony-Columbia said: 

“Better to tell one good story well.” 

After last summer’s casting controversy, Sony-Columbia showed 200% sincerity in inviting Anson back—not just to make money and smile through gritted teeth, but with genuine respect for the series and a commitment to continue the incredible success of Spider-Man 2. 

The white balloon drop at the premiere echoed across North America, leaving its mark on Hollywood history. 

Countless fans started singing Sunflower— 

Just like the lyrics, their one-sided admiration was finally returned. The sun acknowledged the sunflower’s gaze, and everyone rejoiced. 

But if you looked closely, you’d notice something missing in both Sony-Columbia’s and Innovative Artists’ press releases. 

They mentioned a major new collaboration. But there were no numbers. No mention of contract terms. 

So where was this “historic deal” TMZ talked about? 

There were no reports. The public was too caught up in the excitement of Anson reprising his role. But people in the industry were watching closely. 

So were Blair and Gloria. 

Sony-Columbia had to pay for ignoring Anson, for disrespecting him, for hurting him. That’s what Blair and her team had been working on for a full year. It wasn’t just about renewing his contract—it was about concrete proof that Anson was finally getting what he deserved. 

Of course, Blair was confident. “Anson won’t sell himself short. If the deal wasn’t good, he wouldn’t have signed. He already lined up a backup plan with Warner Bros. That alone gave Sony a serious wake-up call.” 

Still, fair is fair. 

Anson’s career is skyrocketing because of his own hard work—he earned it. But Sony-Columbia still needed to make amends. They had to pay the price. 

So now that Anson had signed the contract, the question was: How much was it worth? Did Sony-Columbia pay what they should? 

They waited—anxious, excited, nervous—as if they were the ones signing the deal. 

They didn’t have to wait long. Rumors started spreading within Hollywood. Quiet whispers among insiders—not even TMZ reported it yet— 

23% box office revenue share. 

No strings attached. Anson would be both actor and executive producer, sharing in the profits as a full creative partner. 

Like a tiny pebble dropped into a calm lake, the ripples grew… until a storm arrived. 

Then, Entertainment Weekly confirmed the news. Although neither Innovative Artists nor Sony-Columbia had officially responded, insider sources revealed: 

No base salary. Only profit sharing. And the percentage set a new industry record. 

History has been made. ( 

Chapter 1619: Stormy Waters 

A 23% share of box office revenue—what does that even mean? 

Let’s break it down with a simple example: suppose a movie makes $100 million at the North American box office. How’s that money split? 

• Theaters: $30 million (30%) 

• Production Company: $40 million (40%) 

• Distribution Company: $30 million (30%) 

Of course, this is a simplified breakdown. Real-world figures can vary, but this general ratio is fairly common. 

Now, some deeper details: 

The share for theaters depends on the chain, and their actual profit might be razor-thin. That’s why cinemas rely more on popcorn and soda sales than ticket revenue to stay afloat. 

The distributor? Their slice of the pie covers advertising, marketing, and internal operations. While they might net a bit more profit, marketing costs are skyrocketing—I, Robot alone spent over $30 million just on promotion. 

And the production company? That $40 million has to cover actual production costs. If the movie cost more than that to make, they're losing money on paper. Real profits usually come later—DVDs, rentals, airline screenings, cable TV deals, merchandising, etc. 

In short: think Disney’s obsession with selling action figures. 

Top-tier Hollywood studios usually handle both production and distribution, which reduces their risk and boosts profit margins—one key reason they dominate the industry. 

So what about actor/director/producer salaries? 

If paid up front, salaries come out of the production company’s 40%. That’s why studios fiercely guard the so-called “$20 million club.” Every new member inflates costs dramatically. 

But if it’s a back-end deal—profit-sharing—it also comes out of that 40%. 

Now here’s the kicker: 

Anson’s 23% box office cut comes straight out of the production company’s share—more than half of it, to be exact. 

That’s historic. 

Sure, Sony-Columbia is a powerhouse that handles production, distribution, and has top-tier DVD pipelines. They know how to make the numbers work. But still, this deal rocks the foundation of the entire industry. 

Let’s do the math: If Spider-Man 3 makes $100 million domestically, Anson pockets $23 million. If it hits $500 million like the second film? Anson would become the first actor ever to earn over $100 million from a single film. 

That’s a landmark. 

Boom. BOOM BOOM BOOM. Hollywood was left reeling. No one could believe it. How did Anson get Sony-Columbia to agree to such a deal? He just flipped the whole table and rewrote how contracts work in Tinseltown. 

No wonder neither Sony nor Creative Artists Agency announced the numbers—this was practically a state secret. 

While others were still chasing the $20 million-per-movie dream, Anson took a sharp left turn. He didn’t just think outside the box—he broke it. And walked away with the pieces. 

Yes, Anson had used box office deals before—like in Spider-Man 2. But this time? There was no upfront salary at all. Pure profit-sharing. 

This model isn’t unheard of—but it’s only used in low-budget films. Think Bruce Willis in The Sixth Sense or Travolta in Pulp Fiction. Never for a tentpole blockbuster like Spider-Man 3. 

That’s why it sent shockwaves through the industry. 

He’s the first. 

Anson completely abandoned the chase for guaranteed paychecks and status symbols. He’s betting everything on his own box office appeal. 

Here’s the tradeoff: Yes, studios have to share profits. But they also cut risk—if the film flops, they lose less. And Anson's lack of base salary actually saves them millions in production costs. That’s a win-win. 

Most importantly, Anson sent a message: He believes in himself. He’s not just another actor—he’s a brand. "Anson Wood films = guaranteed quality." 

It was a bold strike—against outdated pay models, against industry norms, and in favor of new possibilities. 

It stunned everyone. 

On the surface, studios should be cheering. Anson just handed Sony a $20–40 million savings upfront. So what’s the problem? 

The 23% cut. 

Other studios thought it was outrageous. 

Even Spielberg and Cruise together didn’t secure a 20% split with Paramount for War of the Worlds. But Anson? He beat that alone. 

To some, Sony looked insane. Wasn’t this just working for Anson now? 

Naturally, backlash hit fast. 

Hollywood insiders scoffed. Some accused Anson of being reckless—why walk away from guaranteed money? No wonder William Morris dropped him. Only a mega-agency like Creative Artists could stomach this risk. 

Others said success had gone to his head. He was drunk on Spider-Man 2's success. He thought he was invincible. 

Critics. Detractors. Jokers. 

They all lined up to sneer. 

"He's still a kid. Thinks he can move the Earth." That was one of the milder takes. The sharper ones? "Empty-headed pretty boy." And they wouldn’t even bother discussing him further—like the deal wasn’t even worth real analysis. 

From their view, no base salary = unpaid labor. 

What if Spider-Man 3 bombs at $10 million? Sure, that’s unlikely. But staking your livelihood on ticket sales? That’s not bold. That’s dumb. 

But here’s the twist: 

If the actors don’t get it… maybe the studios do? 

Anson saved Sony tens of millions in production costs. From recent rumors, it could be as high as $40 million. 

They should be applauding. 

Yet even studios are nervous. 

Why? That 23% still hangs over their heads. It breaks precedent. It rewrites the hierarchy. It threatens to upend how stars are valued—and how much power they truly have. 

And if it works? 

It just might change everything.  

Chapter 1620: One of a Kind 

New things always face a bumpy road—and this time was no exception. 

The contract between Anson and Sony-Columbia was just too bizarre, too shocking, too unconventional. It shook all of Hollywood to its core, leaving everyone completely stunned. 

Actors started fretting—if he could get that kind of deal, how were they supposed to negotiate in the future? 

Studios were even more uneasy—how do you continue working with Anson now? If he’s both star and stakeholder, does that mean they’re working for him now? Did the roles of boss and employee just reverse? 

In short, Anson was suddenly caught in an awkward situation—like the pig in the Chinese proverb, “Pigsy looking in the mirror”—a mess from both sides. 

But in Hollywood, there are still some truly smart people. 

One of them was Asa Daly. 

He could immediately see the brilliance in Anson’s move. With one stroke, Anson had pried open a thirty-year-old lever of power in Hollywood—something even bigger than when Jim Carrey broke into the $20 million club. This wasn’t just about money. It was a fundamental shift in how the industry worked. 

The real value here wasn’t just the payday. It was the right to stand toe-to-toe with the studios as an equal. 

That meant Anson had finally escaped the role of the pawn. He was now a player on the board, an active participant in Hollywood’s power game. 

This wasn't a sudden leap—it all connected with the moves he’d been making over the past year: from becoming a film producer, to launching Forest Pictures, to partnering with Warner Bros. Now, Anson had finally revealed his hand—and this was just the tip of the iceberg. 

Asa had to admit, the timing was genius. Spider-Man 2 was the perfect opportunity: a rare and precious moment. While everyone else was still obsessed with the size of his paycheck, Anson had already moved on to the next stage. 

What really impressed Asa was this: Anson knew he was a trailblazer. He knew he had to make sacrifices to reach his goal. 

So he gave up his base salary. No greedy dreams of “having it all.” He gave up what could have easily been $40 million or more in guaranteed money. With the boldness of a warrior cutting off his own retreat, he placed his bet entirely on box office shares—offering Sony-Columbia a deal they couldn’t refuse. 

Just like The Godfather. 

Smart. Calculated. Ambitious. 

Asa couldn’t help but compare him to Tom Cruise—a man who truly reshaped Hollywood. 

Before Cruise, there were countless movie stars in Hollywood. Even in the modern era, you had Harrison Ford, for example. But the industry was still stumbling around. Back then, people believed star power came from charisma—something intangible and mysterious, requiring luck. 

But businessmen didn’t believe in luck. Just like genre films could be streamlined, they believed stars could be mass-produced, too. 

Hollywood in the '80s was the perfect testing ground. 

Tom Cruise seized that chance. He became the first superstar jointly manufactured by a movie studio and talent agency. Every one of his films was meticulously targeted at the market. He was crafted step by step into a brand. If movie stars were Barbie dolls, Cruise was Barbie #1. 

Of course, Cruise knew the cost. He had to become a symbol, a tool, a walking brand. He had to erase his personal identity and continuously play a public persona both on and off-screen. 

There was no room left for anything real. 

That’s why his relationships never worked—he couldn’t even be himself anymore. He’d forgotten who he really was. 

But he succeeded, becoming one of the most iconic figures in Hollywood. 

Even though Will Smith eventually surpassed Cruise at the box office, Smith still couldn’t touch Cruise’s industry status. 

Smith himself believed the reason was race—that Hollywood always excluded him. That might be partly true. But the deeper reason lay in Cruise’s significance: he was the prototype, the template that changed the industry forever. 

After him, studios and agencies knew how to manufacture stars like factory products. 

That same system built countless idols afterward—Tom Hanks, Will Smith, George Clooney, Brad Pitt, Julia Roberts, Meg Ryan, Britney Spears, the Backstreet Boys, NSYNC, Leonardo DiCaprio, and more. 

Even Jim Carrey breaking into the $20 million club? That too was a result of this formula, executed perfectly by Creative Artists Agency. Without Tom Cruise, Carrey could never have shattered that ceiling as a comedy actor. 

Of course, charisma still matters. So does luck. That’s why it’s these stars who made it, and not others like Matthew McConaughey, Ben Affleck, Tobey Maguire, or Bruce Willis—who all came close but couldn’t quite break through. 

Still, the industry had finally discovered its formula—like solving a chemical equation. 

And now, Anson was about to do the same. 

Asa had no doubt that many actors in Hollywood wanted to break out of the system, to reclaim their voice. Brad Pitt’s decision last year to co-found a film company with Jennifer Aniston was proof. 

But no one had the courage—or the vision—to do what Anson just did. 

Yes, building your own production company is a step forward, maybe even necessary. But that’s not enough. Capital alone won’t solve everything. Look at DreamWorks—a prime example. Steven Spielberg saw the future ten years ago. 

And yet today? DreamWorks is barely holding on. 

So having a studio isn't the endgame. 

Hollywood’s top stars have been searching for the answer, but none of them expected Anson to be the one to finally break through. Just like Cruise and Carrey before him, Anson was rewriting the rules of the game. 

Asa was sure of it: Hollywood would soon realize the true weight of Anson’s bold move. 

That’s exactly why CAA (Creative Artists Agency) didn’t hesitate to team up with Anson. 

Last time, they helped Jim Carrey make history. 

This time, they saw the signs again—and they seized the moment without blinking. 

Anson is special. One of a kind. But not just because of his looks, charm, or star power. 

His value lies in something people never expected— 

His wisdom. 

That razor-sharp insight is what truly sets Anson apart in Hollywood’s top-tier game of power and fame. 

And Asa believed—with complete confidence—that once again, CAA had placed their bets on the right side of history. 

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