Chapter 242: Results and Those Who Define Results

The quality of a movie and its box office success never have a direct connection. Throughout history, many critically acclaimed blockbusters were hyped endlessly before wide release.

Filmmakers and critics alike lavish praise, believing the work will set a historic benchmark. In fact, they’re right—but that benchmark often becomes a new low rather than a new high.

Conversely, some films that few expect to succeed end up with astonishing returns that leave people speechless.

Do people really not understand why?

No, they know, but they’re reluctant to say it.

Filmmakers and critics, the so-called upper class inside and outside the industry, base their evaluations purely on artistry.

They analyze every scene for deeper meaning, origins, and even the smallest visual details.

For example, a critic once praised a movie by focusing on the wallpaper pattern, interpreting it as a symbol of the film’s profound message.

Their pursuit of art is clearly excessive, or it’s just who they are—they need to see things ordinary people cannot.

Some directors enjoy this too, mutually praising each other; it’s a unique culture in the entertainment world.

But ordinary people never seek artistry. On one hand, they lack education and don’t understand whether the wallpaper’s thorny vines represent roses or brambles, nor the religious, historical, or mythological significance behind them, and naturally can’t grasp the implied meanings.

On the other hand, ordinary people seek practicality and relevance. They reject highbrow content. Historically, films with religious themes always score high but have low box office returns because only critics and filmmakers care.

This movie was no different. Lynch had overheard critics behind him mock its content in their usual sarcastic tone. Some even walked out to show their aloofness.

But the real audience enjoyed it immensely. Whether for the story or other reasons, they were satisfied and happy.

That’s why they come to the theater. After leaving, they want to remember the experience—not ponder whether the aliens symbolize inequality or if the heroine’s supernatural power represents some higher authority.

Well, thinking about it, that actually makes it a work with deep meaning and social satire.

As the movie neared its climax, the heroine plunged a dagger into the eye of the truck driver who assaulted and nearly killed her.

Watching the heroine bathed in her enemy’s blood, the audience in the back rows clearly loved this grand revenge scene.

Critics? They just talked nonsense.

Lynch gave the film an objective review: a decent movie. At least male fans would buy tickets without hesitation to enjoy about eighty minutes of fun. Even if it didn’t make huge profits, it could break even.

When the credits began, the theater lights brightened. People stood and applauded—some warmly, some coldly.

Lynch shook hands with Mr. Fox. “Congratulations. This is the first step toward success, and I believe the first step toward legend.”

Mr. Fox was in high spirits. Not long ago, he was an unnoticed small-town figure running shady businesses. Now he mingled with elites and had produced a movie—something he never imagined possible.

“I thank you, Lynch. Without you, I’d still be running a shadowy finance company,” said Mr. Fox, who was good at holding grudges but also remembering favors.

Lynch smiled and released his hand. “Now it’s your time.”

After the premiere, there was a reception—though it rarely attracted media attention, mainly because reporters couldn’t get in.

At the reception, local producers and insiders circled the Foxes. Due to well-known reasons, Lardimore had very few investment projects this year, and several production companies suddenly went bankrupt.

Unemployed people roamed the streets—no different than elsewhere.

Now with their new film and company, the Foxes attracted attention like sharks smelling blood.

Directors, project initiators, and stars all tried to impress these two financiers, hoping to attract investment.

Lynch also had company, but of a higher caliber. He was chatting with a vice president from a top-five federal production company.

Lynch’s Interstellar Trading Company had officially filed for a split and applied for preliminary procedures regarding Sergeant. This meant the company might soon list on the three major exchanges.

Years ago, such news wouldn’t matter—back then even junkyards had a chance to list and profit.

But now, listing in a poor economic environment showed absolute determination. For example, a company valued at ten million issuing ten million shares at one Sol each matches its market cap.

After issuing shares, buying activity would raise the price, attracting more capital—hence new stocks usually make money.

If the share price doubles to two Sol, the market cap doubles to twenty million even without profit.

That’s normal, but today this rarely happens. Some buyers may try, though most think it foolish.

Those who bought stock might see little price change and want to sell for cash, lowering prices further. The last traded price becomes the market price.

Price drops mean investors’ shares depreciate, accelerating under current market conditions.

Listing now is risky. Some companies thought they could weather the post-financial crisis winter but saw their market caps halved after listing, prompting delisting considerations.

Lynch’s bold move caught attention among domestic capital, recognizing this young man from Sabin City, his company, and the huge profits in secondhand goods.

“I came here because you, Mr. Lynch, are a major shareholder,” the vice president from Surprise Box Productions said bluntly. “Not because of the Foxes or the movie.”

Surprise Box Productions originated from a circus. They had simple playback equipment and showed old lost programs after performances.

The circus owner found audiences cared more about these programs than the live acts, even when actors changed.

If the programs were off, audiences noticed quickly.

This meant the audience preferred the recordings over live shows, making the owner rich.

He hired performers cheaply, recorded their acts, then sent them away. Playing these programs everywhere generated steady income without paying salaries.

Eventually, the circus only kept a clown for warm-up and a young woman for comfort, yet the owner’s earnings never declined.

In this way, the circus owner became one of the federation’s first producers, spending money on circus films and other genres. The clown from the Surprise Box became the company’s trademark.

Surprise Box Productions has now become a major force in the Federation’s entertainment industry. Wherever they go, they attract all the attention.

Listening to the vice president’s somewhat flattering words, Lynch smiled, nodded, and raised his glass. “It’s an honor.”

They both took small sips—perhaps barely more than wetting their lips.

“Mr. Lynch, if you’re interested in investing in the entertainment industry, consider our company. You might find our upcoming development plans intriguing.”