The power option

As the screenwriter of the $200-million blockbuster “Rush Hour 2,” Jeff Nathanson had directors salivating when his new script, “Catch Me If You Can,” started circulating around Hollywood. Among the first filmmakers smitten by the con-man caper was Lasse Hallstrom. The twice Oscar-nominated Swedish director was courted by DreamWorks and started discussing the project with Leonardo DiCaprio, who starred in Hallstrom’s “What’s Eating Gilbert Grape.”

It looked like a rare alignment of director, story and star -- and perhaps Hallstrom’s most commercial movie to date. But when “Catch Me If You Can” opens in 2,900 theaters Christmas Day, the director with the credit will not be Hallstrom but Steven Spielberg.

The tale of how Hallstrom lost “Catch Me If You Can” reveals how an obscure contract clause is reshaping show-business deal making, sometimes ruining the very relationships it is supposed to cement. Called an option, this contract term legally obligates actors and directors to work in a number of subsequent films, often at below-market rates, as a condition of employment in an initial movie. Used for years with little acrimony to bind performers to sequels, options are turning some contract talks into what look more like hostage negotiations.

Although options are part of the ordinary (and largely hidden) work of talent agents, producers and studio executives, the battles over their enforcement are starting to shape the movies audiences will -- and won’t -- see. Paramount just exercised an option to force Edward Norton to star in a movie he didn’t want to make and, according to DreamWorks, an option cost Hallstrom the “Catch Me If You Can” job. Ever wonder why Ashton Kutcher (“Down to You,” “Texas Rangers,” “Reindeer Games” and next year’s “The Guest”) seems to star in nearly every other Miramax movie? It’s because the studio had several options on the young actor.

Options have become such a critical bargaining chip that Hollywood’s most autonomous stars and producers are being dragged into the fray. George Clooney says he had to surrender options on himself and his production company to resolve a casting and budget dispute in his directorial debut, “Confessions of a Dangerous Mind.” And an option on actress Kirsten Dunst will reunite two blood rivals, British producer Working Title Films and Miramax, in the upcoming Dunst film “Wimbledon.”

“Virtually every studio has options on people,” says Jim Wiatt, president of the William Morris Agency. “But generally speaking, people have found a way to work them out so they don’t become abusive.” Until now, that is.

What might look abusive to outsiders is, from a studio’s perspective, an attempt to reclaim clout once held during the star system’s glory days. Dating from the silent era, the star system required talent to sign long-term contracts with a single studio. By signing a crop of performers to these lengthy deals, a studio could not only exert more control over its stars but also limit their salaries. But as studio power waned in the 1950s, actors turned into free agents, jumping from back lot to back lot depending on where the best material -- and paychecks -- resided.

Today’s option blitz, like almost everything else in show business, is driven by money. In an era when $25-million actor salaries are no longer unfathomable, options give studios a rare bit of leverage, a reward for taking a chance on new talent and a starting point in future negotiations. But if a studio implements them aggressively, options can strain talent relationships to the breaking point.

Studio hired an attorney

Hollywood’s fiercest options drama involved the Oscar-nominated Norton, who last week completed filming Paramount’s “The Italian Job.” Norton co-starred in the film only after Paramount hired formidable lawyer Patricia Glaser to threaten that Paramount would sue Norton if he didn’t show up for work.

The studio argued that Norton was duty-bound to act in the remake of the Michael Caine crime drama because of an unfulfilled option deal dating to Paramount’s 1996 release “Primal Fear,” which launched Norton’s movie career. The studio was obligated to pay him a mere $75,000 for the follow-up film, but it renegotiated his fee to $1 million, still a fraction of the $9 million Norton now commands. All the same, the “Italian Job” dispute has been so unpleasant that Norton has told colleagues he will never work at Paramount again.

Paramount says it was merely enforcing its contractual rights and had given Norton repeated chances to make other movies, all of which he turned down. If it had let Norton out of the deal, the studio says, all its other options with other actors would have become meaningless. “We felt we ultimately had to exercise the option,” says Rob Friedman, Paramount vice chairman.

Just as options might force someone to work on a movie, in the case of “Catch Me If You Can” they might also prevent employment. “We approached Lasse Hallstrom, and he loved the picture,” says Barry Kemp, a “Catch Me If You Can” executive producer. “But Lasse had a three-picture commitment with Miramax” and still owed the studio a movie, Kemp says.

DreamWorks says Miramax, which made Hallstrom’s “Cider House Rules,” “Chocolat” and “The Shipping News,” wanted to own half of “Catch Me If You Can” in exchange for releasing Hallstrom from his pact, even offering DreamWorks a share of some other Miramax movies to sweeten the pot. “But DreamWorks was not going to take on a partner, so Lasse had to drop out,” Kemp says. Hallstrom’s representatives say he passed on making the film because of scheduling problems and that he did not contractually owe Miramax a movie.

Spielberg then stepped in.

In a business in which talent negotiations can stoop to shouting, Miramax’s has been by far the loudest voice in asking for -- and then enforcing -- options. Thanks to an option Miramax held on its “Shakespeare in Love” director John Madden, Miramax was able to become a partner on “Captain Corelli’s Mandolin” (which Madden directed), a film developed by British producer Working Title.

The production was contentious enough that Working Title vowed never to work with Miramax again. So who owns a third of Working Title’s upcoming tennis movie “Wimbledon”? That’s right: Miramax.

The “Wimbledon” deal illustrates how options can reward a studio that makes an early bet on young performers. When Miramax made the 2001 film “Get Over It,” it asked that Dunst agree to star in at least one more future Miramax movie. When Dunst was offered the co-starring role in “Spider-Man,” she had to promise Miramax yet another movie so that she could be released to make the superhero blockbuster.

Studio’s point of view

Miramax says it uses options to help get actors jobs. When discussing casting for a new movie, the studio says, it will often first consider those people who owe the studio a movie. And even if options lock in a raise for an actor’s subsequent film, that prenegotiated salary can often exceed what the performer would earn on the open market, Miramax says.

In the case of “Wimbledon,” Miramax says Working Title asked Miramax to use its Dunst option to resolve a scheduling conflict on “Spider-Man 2.” Working Title and Universal say Miramax’s Dunst option was more hindrance than help, but it did allow the filmmakers to hire Dunst at a discount. She will earn $5 million for “Wimbledon,” less than what she might take home for another film, but a huge raise from her option price of $750,000, according to Universal. And when the movie is completed, she will no longer owe Miramax anything, the studio says.

Options have become vital in deals for franchise films, which can generate countless sequels and spinoffs. Studio negotiators love options because they help them reunite franchise film talent without breaking the bank.

“If you put a lot of money and promotion into a movie, you want to make sure that in the next movie you can have your star,” says Amir Malin, whose Artisan Entertainment is now casting its action film “The Punisher” and will ask the star to pledge at least one sequel option. “It’s really no different than a studio in the television business locking up its cast from a series for a three-year deal. You just don’t want your budgets to get out of control.”

The price for not having options can be steep. When MGM made the first “Legally Blonde” movie, it paid star Reese Witherspoon $2.5 million. Because she declined to make an option deal for a sequel, the actress will pocket $15 million for “Legally Blonde 2.” Sony’s “Men in Black II” was repeatedly postponed because the combined salaries and profit participation of stars Will Smith and Tommy Lee Jones, director Barry Sonnenfeld and producer Amblin Entertainment made hammering out a cost-effective deal nearly impossible. That’s why Sony insisted on “Spider-Man” sequel options on both Maguire, co-star Dunst and James Franco, who plays Parker’s friend, Harry Osborn.

The entire lead cast of Fox’s “X-Men” had to agree to make at least one, and for some of the actors, at least two, sequels when they were asked to star in the original 2000 film. When Alan Cumming signed on to play Nightcrawler for next May’s “X-Men” sequel he, too, had to sign on for another movie.

“It was not easy” getting “X-Men” actors such as Patrick Stewart and Ian McKellen to commit to subsequent films, says Fox Chairman Tom Rothman. “But I wanted to plan for success. We weren’t just making a movie. We were making an investment in cracking a genre.” If a movie becomes a huge smash, it doesn’t always matter if you have a deal in place. Just like the baseball slugger who wants to renegotiate his deal after a career season, the star of a hit film will try to renegotiate. Universal was obliged to pay Paul Walker $2 million for a “Fast and the Furious” sequel but raised his paycheck to $7 million to keep him happy and reward him for the hit performance of the first film.

Options have become so prevalent -- and, to some, so confusing -- that Disney recently drafted a list of guidelines it is considering submitting to talent agencies. The draft memorandum defines the actors from whom Disney expects two options (newcomers who have no previous starring roles in television or film), one option (emerging stars who have been featured prominently in a film or a TV show but have some leading roles) and no options (established stars).

With few credits outside of obscure plays, newcomers have little leverage and are usually so eager to work that they don’t mind committing to a future of servitude. “If you’re just starting out, you’re desperate and you’ll do whatever you have to do,” says producer Jorge Saralegui.

As actors become more popular, they can quickly rise above options deals. When Disney cast the neophyte Anne Hathaway in the lead for “The Princess Diaries,” it insisted that she give the studio an option on another film, and she agreed. (The studio is developing a sequel to “Princess Diaries.”) But when that film went on to gross more than $100 million, Hathaway suddenly enjoyed much greater bargaining power.

So when Miramax asked the actress for an option when casting her in “Ella Enchanted,” she refused but was still cast. (Her co-star, British beginner Hugh Dancy, didn’t have that kind of clout and had to promise the studio another film.)

But superstar status doesn’t eliminate worry about options. First-time director Clooney was determined to cast Sam Rockwell (“Galaxy Quest,” “Green Mile”) as “Gong Show” host Chuck Barris in “Confessions of a Dangerous Mind.” Miramax was fielding inquiries from better-known stars who wanted the part.

The studio relented on Clooney’s choice only when Clooney gave Miramax several options, he says. One called for Clooney to appear in a cameo in a Miramax film and another gave Miramax an opportunity to co-produce movies made with Clooney and partner Steven Soderbergh’s production company. (Clooney’s publicist says Miramax later forgave the options when he added Julia Roberts and Drew Barrymore to his “Confessions” cast.)

As much as talent agents complain about them, not everyone hates options. John Lee Hancock was willing to commit to two more Disney options when, with no experience behind the camera, he was hired by the studio to direct “The Rookie.”

The March release was a strong success, and Hancock soon became one of the town’s top script doctors, recently rewriting the Jerry Bruckheimer movies “Bad Boys II” and “King Arthur.”

In the open market, Hancock can command as much as $3 million to direct a movie. But because of his Disney option deal, he will earn $900,000 to direct the studio’s epic “The Alamo.” “There’s no doubt that it’s a one-sided deal,” says Hancock.

“Because there’s no guarantee that you will get to make another movie. But it is fair. They took a huge chance on me. And without ‘The Rookie,’ I would not be directing ‘The Alamo.’ ”