Find a quiet spot, turn the page, and let’s see what this story has been hiding 🌙 ✦ Dinner was a rare full-family meal: Evan, Anna, Reuben, and the two golden retrievers lying under the table at his feet.
The dogs had already eaten their canned food, but they knew he could be counted on to slip them a piece or two of beef.
He talked with his mother about small stories from school and ate the beef-and-potato stew she had made.
Over the years, he had grown used to his mother’s cooking, though now and then a meal from his first life still surfaced in memory.
After dinner, the three of them and the two dogs settled into the living room to watch television.
Evan took out the folder and handed it to his mother.
“Mom, take a look at this.
It’s the first proper feature I’ve prepared for myself, and I’m using it as my thesis film.
Dad already agreed to call the accountant tomorrow.
He’s going to invest in it.” Anna took the folder.
Reuben, without being asked, lowered the television volume.
About half an hour later, while Evan and his father sat cross-legged on the floor arguing over the Green Bay Packers and the New England Patriots, Anna set the script down.
“Evan, to be honest, I don’t like the story,” she said.
“But the project is practical.
For your first film, it suits you very well.
I saw your budget, about $1.2 million, but you need to account for accidents or delays.
A first-time director can go over budget very quickly.
“There aren’t many major roles, and the acting demands are manageable.
My advice is to find an absolutely beautiful blonde for the lead.
Don’t underestimate beauty on-screen.
It can become a selling point.
Promise me you won’t put too much pressure on yourself.” Evan listened carefully.
His mother had once worked as a hands-on producer.
It had been years, but her eye and experience were still there.
Unlike Reuben, she had never completely left the creative side of the industry.
She still wrote from time to time.
“Mom, I’ll succeed,” he said.
“Hollywood is full of people waiting for one chance, and I’m not going to waste mine.
I don’t want to graduate and spend years drifting through small crews, maybe a decade before anyone lets me direct, only to become a director-for-hire with no say in postproduction.
This is my chance to prove I can do it.” He looked at her seriously, though he was saying the words as much to himself as to her.
He did not have time to waste.
In the producer-driven studio system, he had seen plenty of directors treated as little more than hired hands.
Most never came close to meaningful control in post.
Only directors who kept proving themselves, film after film, earned a real voice in postproduction.
Evan had no intention of becoming someone who could not even protect the edit of a movie he had directed.
“Of course, honey,” Anna said, touching his face.
“I believe you.
You’re going to make me proud.” He knew she was comforting him, but it still moved him.
His father was willing to pay for his first attempt, and his mother had encouraged him for years to learn everything he could.
Evan knew exactly how lucky he had been to be born into this family.
“All right, kid,” Reuben said, winking at him and pointing at the television.
“If you’re willing to give up on the Patriots and cheer for the Packers with me, I may consider investing a little more.” “Oh, Dad, not a chance,” Evan said, raising a fist at him.
“The Patriots are going to win a Super Bowl.
Just wait.” He took the script and went upstairs to his room.
He needed to start drawing storyboards as soon as possible, and there were still too many practical problems to consider.
Reuben had been clear.
Evan only had this one chance.
His father would pay for this film once.
If he failed and lost the precious ticket into Hollywood, the road ahead would be uglier.
His parents could probably use old contacts to get him work on a television crew, an advertising crew, or some tiny production, but he would have to start as a production assistant or in another entry-level crew position and spend years building the experience everyone claimed he needed.
The next morning, he woke to two golden retrievers licking his face.
He had not been home for more than a month, and he had slept too deeply.
The tension he carried at school had loosened the moment he came back to the farm, and he had broken the schedule he usually kept.
“Hey, you two little bastards.
Off the bed.
You’re too big for this now.” Evan patted the dogs and shoved them down.
It was already past eight.
Sunlight poured through the balcony doors, warming the bed and making him want to stay exactly where he was.
Instead, he washed his face, grabbed two carrots, and went downstairs to the horse pen behind the house.
He fed them to a black Quarter Horse, then cleaned the stall and brushed the horse down with practiced ease.
The horse had been his fifteenth-birthday gift.
When Reuben first bought it, it had still been a colt.
Whenever Evan came home, he cleaned the stall and brushed the horse each morning.
If the weather was good, he took it out for a ride.
It was the same rule Reuben had applied to the dogs.
If Evan wanted something, Reuben would give it to him, but Evan had to care for it himself.
No one else would do the work.
Animals were partners and friends, not decorations.
If he failed to take responsibility, the punishment was usually physical labor with the ranch hands.
That was Reuben’s way of raising a son: a man was responsible for his choices.
His first life had taught him one kind of discipline.
Reuben’s version was blunter, but Evan had absorbed it all the same.
After a ride around the property, Evan came back sweating, showered upstairs, changed, and went down for breakfast.
“Mom, where is Dad?” he asked as she poured him a glass of milk.
“I know he doesn’t get up early to help the ranch hands.” “More eggs?” Anna asked.
“He went to the entrance.
Howard is almost here, so your father went to meet him.” Evan understood at once.
Howard was the Rosenberg family accountant, the man who handled their taxes, investments, and similar matters.
His production money was about to become real.
He had just finished breakfast when the front door opened.
He and his mother went into the living room as Reuben came in with a middle-aged white man.
“Anna, you’re as beautiful as ever,” Howard said warmly.
“And young Evan.
How is school?
I hear you’re about to graduate.
Time moves too fast.” “Uncle Howard, coffee?” Evan asked.
“And yes, this is my last year.” He poured Howard a cup and sat off to the side while the accountant spoke with his father.
“Reuben, I brought the documents you asked for,” Howard said.
“Sign here and it’s done.
I should remind you, though, this is a distribution from the trust you established for Evan.
Is it wise to pull money out this early?
Tech stocks are looking good right now.” Reuben signed the papers and looked up.
“The kid is about to graduate.
I promised I would invest in his first feature.” “All right.
The money has been deposited into your account.
You can write him a check whenever you like.” Reuben did not hesitate.
He took out his checkbook and wrote Evan a check for $1.2 million.
The Rosenbergs had never lacked money while Evan was growing up, but more than a million dollars was still a fortune in any era.
Even for his family, this was not a small amount.
“Evan, this is the father-son agreement we’ve had since you were a kid,” Reuben said.
“Honestly, I never expected you to keep at it from the time you were that young until now.
This is also the last money you’ll get from this family for your career.
I’m reminding you one more time: if you mess this up, you’ll be on your own financially.” Evan held the check in both hands.
For him, right now, $1.2 million was enormous.
If he had to earn it himself, he had no idea how long it would take.
“I know, Dad.
I understand.
You may not believe it yet, but I’ll make sure this doesn’t lose money.
I’ll earn it back.” He folded the check carefully into his pocket and returned upstairs to his room.
Sitting at the desk, he picked up the phone and called Jimmy.
“Hey, Jimmy.
It’s Evan.
You can start hiring.
I need you to find reliable people for me.
Yes, I’ll be back in Los Angeles tomorrow, and I’ll meet them then.” After hanging up, Evan pumped a fist once.
It could finally begin.
He took out the check and looked at it again.
He knew Reuben had been putting money into a trust for him for years.
Under the trust’s original terms, Evan would not have been allowed to touch the principal unless he reached middle age without an established career.
Reuben had made good money when he sold his shares in the old film company, but he had been squeezed out and left bitter.
The farm, the trust, the education, all of it had cost money.
Giving Evan more than a million dollars now was not easy, no matter how casually Reuben tried to make it look.
The next day, with his mother’s voice following him in farewell, Evan drove away from the farm and took U.S.
Route 101 back toward Los Angeles.
He stopped at his apartment long enough to drop off his things, then went to the agreed meeting at Jasmine Cafe.
Jimmy was already there with a stack of materials.
“Based on what you asked for, these are the best people I could find,” Jimmy said.
“They have some experience, but none of them has been attached to a successful production yet.
They’re competent, and they’re affordable.” “Give me a second.” Evan picked up the files.
Steve Wilson, lighting technician.
Lily Angie, makeup artist.
Ross Will, prop master.
Mia Craig, set dresser.
All of them had production experience.
None of them was expensive.
“Okay,” Evan said.
“These will work for now.
Do you have actors to recommend?
I need the lead’s classmate and best friend, preferably an all-American type.
I also need a male actor.
Most important, they need to be cheap.” Jimmy was reading the script.
He looked up.
“What about the lead?
You don’t need me to find her?
CAA has plenty of new actresses who fit this kind of thing.” “No.
I have someone in mind for the lead.” And he did: the neighbor who had come to Hollywood chasing a dream.
He had seen her films in his previous life, and she fit the role almost exactly.
There were so many moving parts now that Evan felt pulled in every direction.
He was only one person.
With Ryan’s help, Evan incorporated Rosenberg Pictures in Delaware and hired a registered agent there.
His movie was going to be a small independent production, and operating through a legal entity would make crew contracts, actor agreements, and payments much cleaner.
A corporation looked far more credible than a college student with a check.
The filing, legal work, and first-year fees came to roughly five thousand dollars.
Delaware’s flexible corporate law and Court of Chancery made it a common choice for major companies, and that structure gave Rosenberg Pictures a cleaner professional footing from the start.
After that, Evan met the crew members Jimmy had found and signed their contracts.
Before he could even properly get to know them, he made another trip to USC and asked Professor Horowitz to recommend an older graduate, someone with strong grades who had not yet found stable work.
Horowitz introduced him to Luke Simmons, who had graduated two years before Evan.
Luke had been drifting from crew to crew, not doing badly enough to quit but not well enough to break through.
Evan needed someone exactly like him, so he arranged to meet Luke the next day at Jasmine Cafe.
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CREATORS’ THOUGHTS TheBacklot Thank you for reading.
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