Invest directly in a movie?
Nyle wasn't so sure that was a good idea. After all, America produced over 400 movies a year now, and he wasn't some kind of omniscient being who could remember the success or failure of every single one. If he had that kind of memory, he would have been a top dog in his past life—there'd have been no need for that pathetic "kucha" sound.
"Actually, I've got a list here you might want to take a look at," said Wilkie, hiding a smile as he noticed Nyle's rare uncertain expression.
Wilkie was a lawyer who specialized in business management and tax planning. There was no way he'd come unprepared. Since he didn't recommend directly investing in a film company, he had of course prepped a Plan B: movie-specific investments.
The list? A rundown of most of the films scheduled to begin production next year. Big names like MGM and Warner Bros. were all on there. This wasn't classified information—Hollywood openly auditioned actors, hired crew, and rented studio space. Nothing about it was exactly subtle.
In fact, many studios would even launch PR campaigns long before filming began, building hype ahead of time. Classic tactics. Even decades later, film studios would still be pulling these same tricks.
So they took a look.
There were at least 200 titles on the list, and Nyle's eyes were practically spinning. Some seemed vaguely familiar; others he had never heard of at all. The Great Depression might've been a golden era for the film industry, but that didn't mean most of those films succeeded. In fact, many flopped and simply became stepping stones for the few hits that did make it.
Frederick leaned in too. The small town of Waynesburg did have a movie theater, and it was doing okay. But small-town cinemas were always a few steps behind the big cities. Sometimes films had already left New York screens two or three months before a print even reached Waynesburg. Plus, that local theater wasn't exactly the most forward-thinking—its equipment was pretty dated.
In many big cities, theaters had already started selling soda and popcorn, which had become the most profitable part of the business. But Waynesburg's theater clearly hadn't caught up.
Word had it that big-city theaters were even experimenting with overnight tickets now—fifteen cents for a daytime movie, and just ten cents to watch movies all night long, six or seven hours straight. This not only boosted late-night attendance but also drove up box office numbers.
Some people in New York, in fact, survived the cold, damp winters by sleeping overnight in movie theaters. No central heating, sure—but four walls, no wind, and enough layers? You could make it work.
Some theaters even ran raffles, giving away expensive silverware. Anyone who had movie tickets from the past three months could enter. This got housewives bringing their kids to the movies every weekend, just for that slim chance to win something valuable.
Basically, movie companies were doing everything they could to stay afloat.
Then—boom! While flipping through the unfamiliar names, Nyle suddenly spotted one that stood out like a thunderclap in his mind:King Kong!
Holy hell—so this was the film scheduled for production next year and release the year after? Most people remembered King Kong as a giant, colorful blockbuster. But this was going to be the original, black-and-white version. The very first.
If he remembered right, King Kong would go on to become a massive success. In just its first four days in New York alone, it raked in $89,931 in ticket sales. That was more than what most movies made in a month across the entire country—and King Kong made it in just a few dozen hours.
"What about this one?" Frederick and Wilkie were both curious why Nyle suddenly got so interested in that title.
"I think the premise has a lot of appeal," Nyle said, unable to just tell them: "Because I know it's going to make money."
Brushing it off, he glanced down at the production notes. The studio was RKO Pictures—a major player. One of the "Big Eight" studios during Hollywood's Golden Age. In 1928, RKO had been formed when the Rockefeller-funded company merged the Film Booking Offices of America with the Keith-Albee-Orpheum theater chain, creating a vertically integrated film empire spanning production, distribution, and exhibition.
Before the Depression hit, RKO probably had no financial worries, thanks to Rockefeller's deep pockets. But now, even the Rockefeller conglomerate was facing liquidity issues. No way they'd be throwing money around to save a film company right now.
Especially since RKO's niche was low-budget entertainment films—especially horror and thrillers. These were easy to shoot and could usually turn a profit by drawing in curiosity seekers. So even though the company wasn't doing great, it wasn't desperate—at least not yet.
Unfortunately, the economic crisis had dragged in another major stakeholder—France's Pathé film company, which was now undergoing major financial problems. Pathé was trying to break ties with RKO, which had plunged the latter into a complicated legal dispute. RKO was now in a bit of a slump, not critical but definitely struggling.
Maybe they needed cash.
"If there's a way to invest in this movie, I think it could pay off," said Nyle, closing the production list. He didn't even feel like looking at the other films anymore—"King Kong" was the guaranteed box office hit of 1932.
"Then let's invest in that one!" Frederick didn't even hesitate.
Wilkie was stunned. A properly made film required at least tens of thousands of dollars in investment. And Frederick was willing to risk that much money just because Nyle thought the movie had potential?
This was some next-level bromance.
To throw tens of thousands at something just because your friend had a hunch—that was wild. In all his years of practice, Wilkie had rarely seen a friend this loyal.
"We don't get much information out in the countryside, so we're counting on you," Nyle said, handing him the list.
"Of course. That's my job," Wilkie replied smoothly.
After all, King Kong hadn't even started filming yet—they were still seeking funding. If they could get in as investors, it'd be a huge win for the studio.
If it succeeded, the studio would earn a profit and reputation. If it flopped, well, it was the investors who'd take the loss. Sure, the upside might be smaller, but the risk was much more manageable. The entire film industry was starving for sugar daddies willing to throw money at them.