I remember seeing him in an interview a while ago, and he was asked that
question.
He's more of an actor's actor from what he said.  I'm guessing there are
superstar 
athletes who would be good front office people, but they like what they do
each day.
 

  _____  

From: scifinoir2@yahoogroups.com [mailto:scifino...@yahoogroups.com] On
Behalf Of Daryle Lockhart
Sent: Friday, August 07, 2009 10:39 AM
To: scifinoir2@yahoogroups.com
Subject: Re: [scifinoir2] Hollywood gets tough on talent


  



Denzel's  reduced front  end was the whole problem. Fox came back with an
offer than gives him a LOT more back end, so Denzel's not exactly suffering
for this picture. As an aside, I don't know why Denzel's not directing
more. I like his work. 

The studios are realizing  that Southern California is still on planet
Earth, and that this money  has to COME from somewhere. Finally. 

Nice part there about Will Smith. Hopefully this will inspire actors (and
managers/agents) to choose smarter projects.

Julia Roberts in "The Proposal"  would have been a disaster.  This seems
like a piece about the changing  of the guard in Hollywood, and it's about
time.


On Aug 7, 2009, at 9:39 AM, ravenadal wrote:


  

Denzel takes pay cut. As Jay Leno says (speaking about Paula Abdul)anything
over $8 million is wasted, anyway.

~rave!

http://faegaz. <http://faegaz.notlong.com> notlong.com

Hollywood gets tough on talent: $20-million movie salaries go down the tubes

It wasn't so long ago, after putting in years building up his career, that
Denzel Washington finally cracked the $20-million star salary club. But now
he's taking a sizable pay cut to star in the upcoming 20th Century Fox film
"Unstoppable" after the studio threatened to pull the plug on the picture in
order to get its costs down. David Fincher used to make $8 million to $10
million per picture, along with a nice piece of first-dollar gross, as an
A-list director. But he's taking considerably less money -- and no
first-dollar gross -- to get his new Sony Pictures film, "The Social
Network," off the ground.

The same goes for "Dinner for Schmucks" star Steve Carell and director Jay
Roach. They may be two of the top comic talents in the business, but the duo
aren't getting their usual salary quotes for the upcoming Paramount movie.
When Julia Roberts told Disney she wouldn't cut her salary to star in the
recent comedy "The Proposal," the studio bailed on Roberts, hiring Sandra
Bullock for even less than what it had offered Roberts. The movie turned out
to be one of the summer's biggest comedy hits.

What's going on here? In Hollywood, whenever a studio executive would sit
down to negotiate with an agent for an actor, writer or filmmaker, one of
the first questions volleyed across the table was: What's your client's
quote? If you'd written, directed or starred in a big hit, or even enjoyed a
couple of modest successes in a row, your quote went up. And unless you ran
off to make some nutty labor-of-love indie film where everyone committed
suicide in the third act, your salary level was assured. That quote stuck
like glue. Even after a few stinkers, a big star could still get their $15-
or $20-million fee.

Not anymore. For basically everyone except Will Smith, salary quotes have
evaporated, simply vanishing into thin air, as have the much-coveted
first-dollar gross deals that top actors and filmmakers used to get. As one
successful producer put it: "Quotes and first-dollar gross have just flown
out the window -- the studios simply won't make those deals anymore," he
explained. "It's all about what the role is worth in that particular movie.
The studio pays for the lead actor or actress, but after that, well, the
talent is just getting grinded. Everyone else is lucky to be working." 

(You'll notice that no one is quoted by name in this post because, in
addition to the natural Hollywood aversion to talking about salaries, the
studio chiefs don't want to look like they're gloating about reining in
talent costs -- although they often are, gloating that is -- while the
agents and managers don't want their clients to think that they've been
largely powerless to stop the new austerity measures, for fear that their
talent will skedaddle across town to another agency.)

In Hollywood the new mantra is: "cash break zero." Instead of paying out
first-dollar gross, where top talent would start collecting huge wads of
cash right off the top from the very first box-office receipts, the studios
are now constructing deals where the talent participates in the profits from
a film only after the studio has recouped both its production and marketing
costs. The new arrangement can still lead to huge windfalls -- in part
because the studios are now giving top talent a far bigger piece of the home
video take than they could get before. But the talent only reaps the rewards
if they are willing to bet on themselves and can deliver a hit.

Just ask Michael Bay, who has boasted that he made $80 million from his
share of the box office (and merchandising) from the first "Transformers"
film. Director Todd Phillips is also enjoying a lucrative payday from
Warners after making "The Hangover," where he gave up a chunk of his
up-front salary in return for a bigger piece of the back end. But not every
movie is a monster hit. In the new "cash break zero" universe, if a film
flops, or simply underperforms, the star isn't walking away with the first
batch of money that comes rolling in. If the studio doesn't get to its
break-even point, the talent (except for their reduced up-front salary) is
walking away empty-handed.

Why did the movie studios finally get tough with talent? And is this really
good for the movie business? Bad for talent? Or just a rare sign of fiscal
sanity? Keep reading: 

In Hollywood, everything revolves around leverage. When the business was
flush, talent had the edge. If one studio wouldn't do a deal, usually
someone else surely would. But in lean times, it's the studios who have all
the muscle. While some talent reps smell collusion, it's more likely that
the talent is being hurt because of the way film budgets are put together.
At its most basic, a movie has below-the-line costs and above-the-line
costs. Below-the-line costs are basically the actual production expenditures
on a film, from special effects to soundstage rentals to crew salaries.

Those are essentially fixed costs -- call them unmovable parts -- whether
it's union salaries for the crew or the cost of filming each day, either on
location or at a studio soundstage or special effects house. Since no one
wants to rob a movie of its production value, which is ultimately what wows
an audience, a studio can't simply say "Shoot the picture in 60 days instead
of 80." So when a studio tells a producer to cut 10% out of a film's budget,
guess what gets cut? The negotiable part: the cost of talent.

So today, the actors who used to make $15 million are making $10 million.
The filmmakers who used to make $10 million are making $6 million. The
writers who used to get a three-step deal, guaranteeing payments on a series
of rewrites, now get one. As one prominent agent put it: "In terms of prices
and quotes, everyone is in free fall. It's just brutal out there. The
balance of power has totally shifted from our side to their side." 

Studio chiefs say that in the old days -- meaning five years ago -- everyone
was enjoying boom times. Year after year, DVD revenues kept soaring. In an
up market, it was easy to be generous with back-end profits, since it looked
like there was plenty of profit to go around. The studios didn't mind if the
talent got rich, just as long as it wasn't at the studios' expense. But
times have changed.

"Two years after you'd made a movie, you'd look at the P&L [profit and loss]
statement and the numbers always turned out better than they were when you'd
greenlit the movie," says one top studio executive. "Even a movie that you'd
thought was a break-even proposition turned out to be nice moneymaker. But
now it's the complete opposite. The DVD revenues keep going down. You look
at a movie two years later and the numbers aren't anywhere near where you'd
originally projected them. When the Walt Disney Co. reports earning losses
in back-to-back quarters, it's very compelling evidence that the entire
business is in trouble."

The steep downturn in the DVD market, where revenues are down close to 25%,
might have been enough in itself to prompt studios to get tough with talent.
But with marketing costs still skyrocketing, with the collapse of the
capital markets leading to far less money pouring in to help studios
assemble film slates, something had to give. According to another popular
theory, the writers strike turned out to be incredibly bad for talent --
notably writers -- since the months of enforced production stoppages gave
studios a rare opportunity to sit back and analyze their business, a process
that had especially disturbing consequences for talent.

"It's never a good thing when studios have time to think, especially if
they're going to be thinking -- exactly why are we paying all these people
all this money?" one top talent rep said. "They started looking at their
overall TV and movie deals and before you knew it, a ton of talent had lost
their deals, because the studios had the time to study who'd actually made
them money and who hadn't delivered the goods." 

The end result is a huge recalibration of the money being paid out to
talent, especially in an era where a surprisingly large percentage of the
biggest hit films, from "Up" to "The Hangover" to "Star Trek" and
"Transformers," are star-free movies, potential franchises that involve
interchangeable parts. There are some who see this new austerity as a
potential boost for creativity. If studios can make movies for less money,
in theory the studios who still retain any artistic ambitions -- all two of
them -- could greenlight some riskier, more filmmaker-friendly efforts,
knowing that the price tag would be far less than it was a few years ago.

But right now everyone is still trying to get their bearings. In the old
days -- like 2005 -- when a studio chief told a talent agent that his meal
ticket would be taking a pay cut, the agent would act offended, loudly
complaining that the studio's offer was an insult. The star would never
stand for that kind of abusive treatment.

But today? "Everyone has been going through all the stages, from denial to
anger to rationalization to acceptance," says one high-level studio
executive. "But the world has really changed. I think most of the talent is
in the acceptance stage now." 





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