Hollywood: Star Kid

Schindler's List was adapted from the book Schindler's Ark. Spielberg had acquired the film rights as early as 1983. At that time, the book's narrator, Pfefferberg, had asked him, "Please, when will you start filming?"

Spielberg had replied, "It might take ten years."

Countless events unfolded in those ten years. Spielberg remained hesitant until news of the Bosnian genocide and the rise of Holocaust denial finally pushed him to make a decision.

To enhance the realism and depict the darkest period of Jewish history, he had recently decided to shoot the film in black and white—an idea that had already sparked strong opposition from Universal Pictures.

"Yes!" Spielberg nodded at Ryan, though his eyes now gleamed with newfound brilliance. Despite knowing quite a bit about this boy already, he continued to be surprised by him.

"And the most important point," Ryan continued, "don't you think Schindler's transformation in the script is too abrupt? He's portrayed as if he experienced some explosive psychological purification and suddenly became a hero. How is this any different from The Great Escape?"

Hearing Ryan's words, Spielberg also stood up and solemnly walked in front of him—this boy with faint traces of Jewish heritage, this boy who was nearly twelve years old, and only slightly shorter than himself!

"Ryan, whether you admit it or not, you carry Jewish blood. Even if it's only for that bloodline, please share all your suggestions," Spielberg said, bowing slightly.

Everyone looked at Spielberg. Though he could be a bit shrewd, his pride would never allow him to bow so easily—let alone to a boy who wasn't even twelve.

"Mr. Spielberg, I…"

Deep in Ryan's soul was the influence of Eastern education. He not only switched to a more formal form of address but also quickly stepped to the side.

Drew Barrymore and Gwyneth Paltrow stared in disbelief. They were stunned and confused. Their godfather, one of the top figures in Hollywood, had actually...

"Mr. Spielberg—well, Steven…" Ryan's lips twitched. He'd plagiarized a lot of things before, but this time he felt a little guilty. Only a little, of course.

"Initially, Schindler was just a calculating businessman. He took in Jews only because he wanted to make more money. It was the subsequent atrocities that gradually pushed him to sympathize with them—but it was just sympathy at first."

Ryan recalled the film he had watched more than ten times. He remembered that splash of color. "A splash of red—so bright it stings the eyes and the heart. The most vibrant color in the entire film. Amid the crazed Nazi SS and the herded Jews, a little girl in a red coat runs back and forth, looking for a place to hide. She marks the beginning of Schindler's transformation."

"When the German army, facing mounting defeats, began exhuming and burning the corpses of those massacred, Schindler saw the girl again!"

Ryan closed his eyes, fell into deep thought for a moment, and then said, "The girl appeared atop a pile of bodies about to be burned. That red—brighter than blood—stabbed Schindler's soul, pushing him to complete his transformation."

"Yes! Ryan, that's it! You've solved the biggest problem!"

At some point, Spielberg had pulled out a small notebook and was quickly scribbling notes. Looking at the messy scrawl on the paper, he suddenly said, "Ryan, I'd like to invite you to help revise the script. Would that be okay?"

"No, no." Ryan quickly waved his finger. While he didn't mind if the tabloids painted him as a freak, he didn't want everyone to see him as one. "Steven, this is your movie. I can offer suggestions, but ultimately, you should be the one making the decisions."

Spielberg didn't say anything more. Instead, he looked at the somewhat stunned Ron Meyer. "Ron, I'm making the same request again: during Jurassic Park's pre-production, let me first complete filming Schindler's List. I'll forgo all compensation!"

People in the past often said that when Spielberg picked up a camera, he was an artist; when he put it down, he was a shrewd businessman. This moment gave Ryan a different feeling. To be honest, he hadn't said all that because of his so-called Jewish heritage.

Oh well, since I've gotten involved, I might as well help all the way—take it to the end. Ryan sighed, smiled at Spielberg, then turned to Ron Meyer.

"Mr. Meyer, I believe Steven can complete filming Schindler's List within six months. With George and Kate handling pre-production, Jurassic Park should be just fine."

In his past life, Spielberg had finished filming in just over 70 days. The most difficult part of this film was its pre-production. Since Spielberg seemed so confident, he must've already done a lot of preparatory work.

Nicole and Kimberly looked over, puzzled. They knew very well that Ryan rarely involved himself in other people's affairs. What was going on today?

"Well…" Ron Meyer hesitated before finally speaking. "Mr. Sheinberg has said that once Steven finishes Schindler's List, it'll be difficult for him to fully commit to Jurassic Park. Ryan, Nicole—you're investors too, so you should understand our concerns."

That was indeed a strong argument—and very likely to happen. Ryan hesitated for a moment. After all, a $20 million investment was already a huge amount for them.

"How about this," Spielberg seemed to have made up his mind. "We can sign a contract stating that after finishing Schindler's List's location shooting, I will fully commit to producing Jurassic Park. Until it is complete, Schindler's List's post-production work will be indefinitely delayed."

It was clear Spielberg couldn't wait any longer. Perhaps because Ryan had just intervened, he was even more eager than the rumors from his past life suggested. Ryan could understand that feeling. If it were him, waiting ten years for a dream to come true—he'd be just as impatient.

Letting him shoot Jurassic Park in that mindset would definitely be a bad idea. Ryan muttered internally, quickly calculating. As long as he got involved, the benefits that Schindler's List could bring would be obvious. After all, Hollywood had another name—Jewish Hollywood.

In a flash, Ryan made a decision. "Ron, how about this—if Steven doesn't fulfill the terms of the contract, Jenkins Pictures and I will give up all investment and returns."

"Ryan…"

Spielberg didn't know what to say. Forget Jenkins Pictures—even Ryan alone stood to earn tens of millions or more from Jurassic Park.

"This…" Ron Meyer was clearly moved.

Ryan looked at Nicole and Kimberly. They hesitated briefly but eventually nodded slightly. Then Ryan said, "We can sign a contract too."

Now Ron Meyer wasn't just moved—he was ecstatic. He wanted nothing more than to draw up two contracts right now, have them sign, and then have Spielberg breach it. That would be a dream come true for Universal Pictures—and for him personally.

"Alright, I'll need to make a call to Mr. Sheinberg," Ron Meyer said, heading straight to the secretary's office.

"Ryan, I really don't know what to say…" Spielberg hadn't expected that Ryan Jenkins—the original author of Jurassic Park—would support him like this.

"It's nothing. This is just what we should do."

Upon hearing that, Nicole Kidman, who knew Ryan best, discreetly rolled her eyes. If he were doing this for her, she wouldn't be surprised at all. But for someone else?

This little devil must be scheming something again! That was Nicole's only thought.

After a full half-hour, Ron Meyer returned, looking relaxed and smiling. "Steven, I believe this will be a pleasant collaboration. I'll inform the relevant departments to draw up the contracts and support your work as quickly as possible."

Spielberg's tense face finally relaxed. He didn't seem to want to wait another moment. After greeting Lucas, he was about to leave.

"Wait, Steven," Ryan called out to him. "You're planning to shoot on location at the Krakow concentration camp, right?"

"Yes." Spielberg paused, then explained, "In fact, I visited Poland a long time ago for on-site research. Also, Ryan—keep your phone on. I'll contact you anytime. I need to assemble my team."

"No, Steven, that's not appropriate!" Ryan stepped directly in front of Spielberg and Lucas.

"What's the issue?"

Ryan scratched his head. Honestly, it felt odd to say this out loud, but if he didn't, the American Jewish Committee would eventually step in anyway. Why not do someone a favor now?

"I've read a lot about Krakow. I know that whether you're on a soundstage or other locations, it's hard to recreate the past. But, Steven—have you thought about how many people rest in peace there? Please don't film at the concentration camp. Please don't disturb the souls of the dead. Let them rest in peace."

Spielberg's notebook slipped from his hand. His face showed a seriousness, solemnity, and regret he had never displayed before. He had prepared for this film for nearly ten years—yet he hadn't thought as thoroughly as this child. If not for Ryan's reminder, he would have made a terrible mistake. Among those resting souls were members of his own family!

"Thank you, Ryan!" Spielberg turned around and gave him a firm handshake.

"This is what we should do," Ryan said again.

"Yes, we should," Spielberg murmured the words softly.

Ryan's expression turned solemn. He clenched his fist and said, "Yes! This is what we must do. Even though I don't know my origins, I know that we share the same blood. We have a shared responsibility—to nail the Nazis, the fascists, and Hitler to the pillar of shame forever!"

"We must let the whole world know about the atrocities that happened in Europe during World War II!" Then, Ryan leaned toward Spielberg's ear and whispered, "This isn't just our responsibility, Steven—we should seek help from the American Jewish Committee."

His own facial features had already marked the path he would walk. So why not maximize the benefits? As Ryan left for dinner with the others, this was what he was thinking.