Chapter 9: You don't know anything about your specialty

When it got dark, Hawk finished strolling through the film festival's open-air area and moved onto the main street.

Other than over 30 business cards in Brand's pocket, there was little to show for their efforts.

This was Hawk's first time at a film festival, and things were different from what he'd expected. The indie groups in the open-air area were poorer than he imagined; their wallets were cleaner than their faces.

Brand asked, "What's next?"

"Sweep through the street theaters, gather information, and make contact with the crews," Hawk replied. He added because it could come in handy, "Didn't you say you know someone on the festival committee? Think you could get all the participating film info from them tomorrow? And maybe check out last year's transaction data?"

Brand hesitated for a moment before saying, "I'll give it a try."

They visited five theaters, collecting a pile of movie materials, and chose two of them to watch. But since the films were terrible and the conditions weren't right, they had to leave early.

They then arrived at the community's Great Salt Lake Cinema, where a few guys were handing out flyers to passersby, trying to draw people in to watch their film.

The leader of the group was under 30, wearing a suit with long brown hair and a long face. When he moved his arm, the gold Rolex on his left wrist gleamed in the streetlight.

One of them ran over, handed a flyer to Hawk, and said, "Special District Heights, showing soon, free screening!"

Hawk took the flyer, glanced at it quickly. The picture showed mostly Mexican characters, and the story was set in a neighborhood in Washington D.C. known for its Mexican-American community.

There was also a portrait shot on the flyer. The Rolex-wearing man was the director.

Hawk handed the flyer to Brand, then observed the entrance of the theater for a moment.

The audience going in was mostly white, with a few Black individuals, and very few Mexican people.

After a moment of consideration, Hawk said, "Let's go check it out."

Brand asked curiously, "Do you think this movie's worth it? It's about Mexicans. What's so interesting about that, it's boring..."

Hawk led the way, "How would you know without watching?"

Brand closed his mouth but couldn't help himself before reaching the theater's entrance, "I get it now, the director's dressed in mid-to-high-end brands and wearing a Rolex—he's definitely got money."

Hawk replied, "You finally got to the heart of it."

Brand chuckled, "I have an eye for spotting value."

They entered the theater and sat in the back row. After about ten minutes, the movie started.

The theater wasn't packed—200 seats, and maybe only a third were occupied.

Hawk noticed the Rolex director quietly come in and sit in the back row. He pulled a portable camcorder from his bag, eagerly filming the audience with excitement written all over his face.

However, it didn’t take long for the excitement to fade.

The movie quickly established the background: the Washington Heights neighborhood, known as the "World Capital of Cough Syrup" for its drug issues. The main characters were a group of former Mexican-American gangsters trying to go straight despite the shadows of drugs and violence.

The screen was filled with Mexican faces, and some lines were in Spanish.

Less than five minutes into the movie, three white audience members left.

Then other whites and a few Black viewers left in succession.

The Rolex director looked disheartened—he seemed like a novice. When yet another group left, he couldn't help but ask, "Is the movie bad?"

One white guy sneered, "Not interested."

"Boring."

"Who cares about this garbage?"

Hawk's companion, Brand, also grew bored. After glancing at another group leaving, he asked, "Should we go too?"

Hawk replied, "The film’s rough, but the story's not bad. Why do you want to leave?"

Brand repeated, "Mexican stuff, it’s just not interesting."

Hawk said, "Watch until it's over."

Halfway through the film, about half the audience had left.

The Rolex director, being a film person, was clearly emotional. The blow seemed to get to him—he turned off his camcorder and slumped in his seat.

Hawk quietly moved over to an empty seat next to him and asked, "Are you the director?"

The Rolex-wearing man nodded woodenly.

"Great movie," Hawk praised before introducing himself, "My name's Hawk Osman, I'm in media."

The other man weakly shook his hand. "Eric Eason, the not-so-successful director."

Hawk specifically asked, "I hadn't heard of this film before. Which company funded it?"

Hearing this, Eric's face darkened momentarily, recalling himself ingratiating himself to a plain-faced woman, full of bitterness. "I funded it myself; no film company was involved."

Hawk took out a business card from the Salt Lake Times and handed it to Eric. "Mind exchanging contact info?"

Eric accepted and gave Hawk his own card. But before Hawk could continue, Eric suddenly stood up, the dejected look vanishing as his face broke into a radiant smile as he turned toward the entrance.

Hawk was impressed by how quickly the man could change his expression.

A typical American woman entered—long legs, big hands, a wide waist, and a broad face.

Eric rushed to her, giving her a heavy kiss. "Sweetheart, why are you here?"

She kissed him back. "To congratulate you, your movie is finally being shown in a theater."

Eric’s smile stiffened, and he whispered, "Screening at a theater is not the same as a theatrical release."

The woman added, "Don’t worry. I contacted a distribution company; they’ll be sending people to check out the film."

Eric’s smile was brighter than a sunflower. "I don’t even know how to thank you..."

Standing not too far away, Hawk overheard everything.

When the screening of Special District Heights ended, the audience gradually dispersed, while Eric and the woman continued talking, leaving him no free time.

Hawk left the theater and carefully examined all the materials for Special District Heights in the ticket hall.

Brand asked, "No way, you think this film could work?"

Hawk didn’t answer, instead pointing back toward the theater, "Do me a favor, go talk to the director, get friendly with him. Find out about the film’s investment, screenings, and plans to sell it. Gather as much as you can."

"I don’t know him!" Brand shook his head. "It's not like we're friends, how do I ask that?"

Hawk sighed, "You don’t even realize your own talent." He gave Brand a push toward the theater. "Trust me, you can do this."

Brand went back in.

Hawk waited by the road for a good half-hour before seeing Brand come out of the theater, looking very pleased with himself, his eyebrows practically floating above his hairline.

Hawk got straight to the point, "What’s the situation?"

Brand’s first words were, "That poor director. To raise funds for the movie, he had to sell out in love, and he's stuck kissing up to that woman every night." He looked disappointed, "Turns out, being a kept man isn't that great after all. I’ll just stick to chasing pretty girls."

From that jumbled reply, Hawk caught the crucial point, "If the film needs more funding, would the woman cover it?"

Brand thought for a moment, "From what the director said, the woman inherited millions. In her circle, having an artistically inclined film director as a boyfriend to kiss up to her really boosts her social standing."

He was confident, "As long as he keeps up the effort at night, getting another round of funding from her won’t be hard."

It was getting late, and Hawk was hungry too. "Let’s grab some food and talk on the way."

Brand had a knack for getting people to open up and had gathered a lot of useful information.

Eric Eason had only ever made an experimental short before this. He met his broad-faced girlfriend Catherine at an industry gathering, won her over, and managed to secure $200,000 in production funds to make Special District Heights.

Young directors are often ambitious, but most have no sense of the market. Eric believed his first feature film had what it took to make it to theaters, so he brought his girlfriend and a few hired hands to the festival for a promotional screening. The first showing, tonight, had seen a mass walkout from the audience, shaking his confidence.

In three days, Special District Heights was set to have a second screening at the Great Salt Lake Cinema, from 9:30 to 11:30 in the morning.

That showing was key.

With connections from her late father, Catherine had managed to invite Robert Reiner’s film-buying team. Reiner was a vice president for production and distribution at Castle Rock Entertainment, a Hollywood studio.

Whether the film could be bought by a distribution company and make it to theaters would all depend on that showing.