The day of the premiere arrived. At the independent cinema near Century City, many of Britney’s fans were already waiting by morning.
Attendees included the creative team, fans, critics, and some entertainment reporters, though the turnout was modest.
Irene arrived neither early nor late. She wasn’t a performer and didn’t require an elaborate gown. In a simple white suit, she walked the red carpet.
A junior reporter on the sidelines took a photo instinctively, then asked the veteran beside him, "Who’s that?"
The veteran checked the image. "That’s Irene Coppola, the film’s director."
The junior reporter was surprised. "She’s young."
Yes, at seventeen, even with mature styling, Irene still looked like a student—no amount of tailoring could change that.
"I expected a larger crowd," the junior reporter said, seeing no one else approaching.
"For a debut director, this is reasonable. She has a well-known father and a famous best friend," the veteran shrugged.
"Besides, Mr. Cruise’s premiere is today."
"Tom Cruise?"
"Yes. The Cruise couple’s film Eyes Wide Shut. That one is packed."
"Then why are we here?"
"Because I think this movie might be good." As they spoke, the leads, Reese Witherspoon and James Franco, arrived together.
Reese had prior recognition, so reporters knew her name. James was new, but his appearance drew attention, and many referred to him as "the handsome guy."
They spent twenty minutes on the red carpet before reaching the lounge. Irene had been there for half an hour. She wasn’t skilled at small talk, so after greeting her father and George, she sat to one side.
She didn’t care to listen to industry pleasantries. It wouldn’t affect box office.
"Hey, Boss, here early." James Franco approached casually and gave her a fist bump, not treating her with formality.
"I’ve been here thirty minutes. You’re finally here. The film starts in thirty. How’s it outside?" Irene was used to his greeting from set.
"I think we have a decent crowd. Audience and fans should be entering soon. Boss, it’s almost time for results. Nervous?" James raised an eyebrow.
Irene folded her hands. "Why would I be? A wide release means the distributor supports the film. What about you? You haven’t seen the final cut, right? Excited to see your work?"
"I don’t have many scenes, so I’m fine," James laughed, then looked at Reese.
"What’s wrong, Reese? You’ve been quiet. Something on your mind?"
Reese tried to smile but couldn’t. "Boss, have you heard? Tom Cruise’s film is also in wide release today."
"I know. The Cruise couple’s new R-rated film, Eyes Wide Shut. Their promotion started later than ours, but their reach is larger." Irene’s tone was even.
"Boss, aren’t you concerned? It’s said their film cost over $60 million and stars Tom Cruise. Some predict it’ll be the next Titanic. Everyone will see their film. What about us?"
"To be precise, $65 million. But our audience and theirs don’t overlap much. We’re a campus comedy; they’re a thriller drama. Different demographics." She spoke calmly, though she was displeased that their theater count had dropped from 1,200 to 800 because of Eyes Wide Shut’s late scheduling.
Each additional theater could mean thousands more in daily box office. Anyone would want a higher opening. But she couldn’t compete with Tom Cruise directly.
Fortunately, she knew the Cruise film would underperform, otherwise she might be as anxious as Reese. Still, she wondered how low it would go—surely not below cost?
"Let’s not discuss it further. Critics will be here soon. You can greet them. Because of the Cruise film, we only got second- and third-tier press. The quality isn’t the same, but at least we saved budget."
Reese looked at her director and thought each laugh was forced. She assumed Irene was worried but hiding it.
If Irene knew what Reese was thinking, she’d say Reese was overanalyzing. Rather than worry about the Cruises, she was more cautious about Runaway Bride in two weeks.
That was a comedy in their genre, directed by Garry Marshall and starring Julia Roberts—both proven in the field. With repeat leads and an established fanbase, it posed more direct competition.
Many outside weren’t there for the movie itself; they were press and Britney fans.
"Brit, look over here!"
A scream came from outside. Britney had arrived.
Irene stood at the lounge entrance, watching Britney in a pink T-shirt, low-rise jeans, and a pink graffiti baseball cap. In her hip-hop outfit, Britney ran over and jumped toward her.
"Careful," Irene steadied her.
"How’s my outfit? On theme, right? The stylist suggested a gown, but this isn’t a formal event. A gown would look out of place."
Irene fixed her hair. "Wear what you want with me. Don’t worry about the occasion." She took Britney’s hand and led her into the theater, taking seats in the front row.
"That’s what I told them, so I wore this."
"You did well."
"Hey, ladies, how are you? The fans outside are enthusiastic. It’d be great if they were here for me." Edward Nelson sat next to Britney as he entered. The front row was for the creative team; no other guests.
Other actors, seeing Edward take the seat they wanted, were irritated they hadn’t moved faster.
"Hey, Edward, long time. That out-of-print Elvis album you gave me was valuable. I don’t know how to repay you. What do you want? I’ll get it." Britney smiled when she saw Edward.
Apparently, they had connected privately when Irene wasn’t around.