Chapter 19: Opening Day Box Office  

In the morning, Link worked a part-time job at a fast-food restaurant. At noon, he took the subway to the Burbank-United Theater to check the previous day's box office numbers.  

"Link, the first-day box office results are in. There were 12 screenings yesterday, and only 213 tickets were sold. The occupancy rate was below 5%, with total revenue of $1,810.50—far below the minimum guarantee."  

"At this rate, even if we keep screening for a few more days, the numbers won’t improve. My advice is to face reality and stop the screenings now to minimize your losses."  

In the theater's office, William Mason handed him a report detailing the previous day's screenings and box office data. It included the number of tickets sold at different times and demographic information about the audience.  

Most viewers of Buried Alive were between 20 and 50 years old, with an even split between men and women.  

The rest of the data looked bleak.  

"Mr. Mason, I understand what you're saying. But since the movie is already in theaters, let's run it for a few more days. Even if the box office is bad, I’ll just consider this a personal indulgence."  

"Alright. Jerome told me you're a stubborn young man, and you certainly are. I just hope you won’t regret it when the final numbers come in."  

"Of course. This is my decision."  

After reviewing the first-day box office report, Link called Jerome Preston to check on the performance at the Grove Shopping Center Cinema. That theater had only two screens showing Buried Alive, but with higher foot traffic, there was hope for better numbers.  

Jerome reported that Buried Alive had eight screenings yesterday, selling a total of 442 tickets, with total revenue around $3,907.70. Even so, it ranked dead last among all movies currently showing.  

Jerome then asked about the numbers at United Theater.  

Link replied that they weren’t bad—over 200 tickets sold with almost no marketing. It was better than expected.  

Jerome was impressed by his optimism.  

Link simply said, "It is what it is. What good would stressing over it do?"  

After hanging up, he left United Theater and went for a swim at the center next door. By the time he returned to the theater at around 4 PM, he was surprised to see a crowd outside. The box office had only one window open, and a long line had formed.  

Though there were only about a dozen people in line, for a film with no buzz like Buried Alive, this was highly unusual.  

Link stood across the street, observing. In less than half an hour, over 50 more people arrived—more than the number of people who had shown up in two hours the previous afternoon.  

This made him curious. Buried Alive had no promotion and no hype—so where were these people coming from?  

Was it just a case of people looking for something to do on a lazy Saturday afternoon and deciding to check out a new movie?  

After a moment, he casually joined the queue, blending in as an ordinary moviegoer. He tapped the shoulder of a chubby guy with curly hair in front of him.  

"Hey, man. What movies are playing today?"  

"Buried Alive. It’s on the poster. Didn’t you see it?"  

Curly-haired chubby guy glanced back at him and shrugged, clearly not in the mood for small talk.  

"Buried Alive? Never heard of it. Are you here specifically for this movie, or just checking it out on a whim?"  

"Of course, I came here specifically for it. Are you a reporter?"  

"No, I just wanted to see a movie. I don’t know anything about this one—just wondering if it’s worth watching."  

"I don’t know much either. A friend told me this theater is showing a really cool movie, and since I had time today, I figured I’d check it out. Wait a second, dude… you look kinda familiar. Have we met before?"  

Curly-haired chubby guy scratched his forehead, squinting at him.  

"Maybe. A lot of guys look alike—you probably just got me mixed up with someone else."  

"Yeah, maybe."  

Curly-haired chubby guy didn’t recognize him as the guy from the movie poster. A few minutes later, he reached the ticket counter, pulled out a twenty-dollar bill, and bought a movie ticket, a bucket of popcorn, and a large soda before heading into Auditorium 9.  

Three or four minutes later, about half of the 150-seat auditorium was filled. The lights dimmed, and the movie began.  

The chubby guy took a sip of his soda, set it down in the cup holder, grabbed a handful of popcorn, and tossed it into his mouth as he looked up at the big screen.  

"Pfft—cough, cough! That’s him! That’s the guy I just saw!"  

He suddenly pointed at the screen, shouting in excitement.  

Other moviegoers turned to look at him, some holding up fingers to shush him.  

The chubby guy awkwardly scratched his head and quieted down, but as he munched on his popcorn, he couldn’t shake the strange feeling of having just spoken to someone who was now up on the big screen.  

—  

"Wait, you’re saying you first saw a review of this movie in the newspaper, and that’s why you came to watch it? Was that today’s paper?"  

"Yeah. The Hollywood Reporter’s film section."  

"Got it. Thanks!"  

In the theater lobby, Link continued to mingle, piecing together the reason for the sudden uptick in audience numbers.  

It came down to two key factors:  

• Word of mouth. Some people who watched Buried Alive yesterday had recommended it to friends.  

• Media coverage. A film critic had written a review after watching it, which was published in The Hollywood Reporter. Many readers who saw the review came to check out the movie. 

Link headed downstairs to a newsstand and bought a copy of The Hollywood Reporter.  

In the film section, he found a roughly 500-word review tucked among other film reviews—not particularly prominent, but there nonetheless.  

The review was written by Will Roger.  

Its title: "The World’s Loneliest Film – Buried Alive"  

Will Roger wrote that he had been invited to a screening at United Theater, where he saw an exceptionally unique independent film. What made it special was that the entire movie featured only one actor.  

One actor, a few props, and a single confined space—sustaining a 95-minute film.  

Even from just the description, an overwhelming sense of isolation permeated the experience.  

Will Rogers continued his story, saying that when he arrived at the movie theater in the afternoon, he found that there wasn’t a single other audience member present.  

He watched the film alone in a screening room with over 200 seats.  

Will Rogers claimed that during the movie, he could feel the same sense of loneliness as the film’s protagonist.  

Because of this, he called it "the loneliest movie in the world"—not only did the actors and storyline convey a stifling sense of solitude, but the viewing experience itself was also lonely.  

At the end of his review, Will Rogers mentioned that when he first heard about the film, he assumed it would be dull and poorly made. After all, it featured only one actor performing inside a small wooden box for 95 minutes.  

However, after watching it, he was surprised to find that it was actually quite good. The actor's performance, the main storyline, and the cinematography all contributed to an engaging atmosphere. Within the thriller genre, the film ranked above average and was a fresh take worth experiencing.  

Overall, the review was fairly objective, highlighting both the strengths and weaknesses of the movie while also piquing readers’ curiosity.  

Many viewers, intrigued by the review, likely came to see the movie out of curiosity.  

After finishing the newspaper, Link wasn’t sure how many more viewers the review would bring to the film, but he looked forward to the word-of-mouth effect gradually building.  

That entire afternoon, Link stayed put, sitting across from the theater, carefully counting how many people went in to buy tickets.  

At first, he could track them easily when there were only a few dozen. But by six or seven in the evening, the number had climbed to over a hundred. He lost count somewhere around 455—was it 455 or 465 when he started getting confused?  

But it didn’t matter. For the first time in his life, he felt happy about not being good at math.  

Beep, beep, beep!  

Around seven o’clock, the pager in his pocket started beeping. Link took it out, glanced at the message, and walked to a nearby phone booth to call Jerome Preston.  

“Link, how did you get Will Rogers to write a review for you? How much did you pay him?”  

“I thought you hired him.”  

“Haha, Will Rogers is a renowned film critic. I couldn’t afford him. It was probably Old Mason—he has a lot of connections in the film industry.”  

“Is that so? Mr. Mason really is a good man. And so are you.”  

“Don’t flatter me. I’m just doing my job according to the contract. How’s the attendance at United Theaters?”  

“No official data yet, but I counted for a while. As of 7 p.m., about 500 people had come to see Buried Alive. How about your side?”  

“Not bad. As of 6:30 p.m., our two theaters screened eight showings in total, with 646 tickets sold. That’s a 31% occupancy rate, slightly better than yesterday.”  

“Let’s hope tomorrow is even better.”  

“Haha, good luck to you.”  

As night fell, Link’s stomach started growling. Once again, he had forgotten to eat.  

He turned back to take one last look at the theater before heading to West Hollywood to grab a meal.  

(End of Chapter)