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you’ve watched it.”
    Cape’s right eyebrow arched skeptically. “And a movie?”
    “Two hours of entertainment,” said Grace. “Fun but disposable. Pop culture at its most overt.”
    Cape feigned comprehension by keeping his mouth shut.
    “Let’s put it this way,” said Grace. “Critics love films but hate movies. The Oscars love films—audiences love movies. Producers want to be known as film producers, but they want to be financially linked to a blockbuster movie.”
    “So what are you working on—a film or a movie?”
    “Depends on who asks. The studio tells the press that it’s financing a film but tells the producers to make sure it’s a blockbuster movie.”
    “So what does that make you?”
    “A film producer working on a movie.”
    “I have a headache,” said Cape.
    “Hollywood can give you one.”
    “But you’re from New York.”
    “When you’re in this business, everyone’s from Hollywood,” said Grace. “Even me.”
    “So what exactly are you working on?”
    “The movie’s called
The Revenge of Icarus
,” said Grace. “Remember that big asteroid movie that broke all the box office records?”
    “Which one?”
    “The good one.”
    “Not the one with the kid on the bicycle at the end, trying to outrun the cataclysmic tidal wave?”
    “God, no—that was ridiculous. Our studio made the one where the team of construction workers fly into space, land on the asteroid, and set off a nuclear bomb to save the Earth.”
    “Much more believable.”
    “We did over $300 million at the box office,” replied Grace. “Do you believe that?”
    “No, but what do I know? My idea of a movie is
The Maltese Falcon
.”
    Grace lowered her voice and slouched in her chair. “I like talking to a man who likes to talk.”
    “Sydney Greenstreet.” Cape smiled. “Great movie.”
    “Great film.”
    “So what’s
The Revenge of Icarus
?”
    “The second big blockbuster from Empire Films.”
    “That sounds like the press release. What’s the plot?”
    “In the last movie, the hero died when he detonated the nuclear bomb on the asteroid to save humanity.”
    Cape nodded. “I wept.”
    Grace ignored him. “In this movie, the daughter he saved gets called by NASA to save the planet from—”
    Cape cut her off. “Another asteroid?”
    “Good guess.”
    “I am a detective.”
    “Only this asteroid is bigger than the last one—a lot bigger—and it’s headed straight for the sun. An impact will trigger a supernova that will destroy the sun.”
    “Hence the title.”
    “Exactly. And of course, if the sun is destroyed, it will mean the end of all life on Earth.”
    “So it’s a family picture.”
    “Don’t be a smart-ass—it’s a summer movie.”
    “It’s not a movie,” said Cape. “It’s a sequel.”
    “You sound like a critic.”
    “I’m a guy who likes movies. But I’m tired of all the sequels, prequels, and movies based on old TV shows.”
    “Actually it’s more than that. I’m producing the next installment in the Asteroid Franchise from Empire Films.”
    “You’re kidding.”
    “That’s what Hollywood is all about these days—everyone wants a franchise.”
    “So tell the studio to go buy a McDonald’s.”
    Grace shrugged apologetically. “‘Franchise’ is the movie industry’s euphemism for revenue stream. Batman, Star Wars, Bond, Spider-Man—those are franchises. The studio gets a built-in audience who will see the movie no matter what.”
    “No matter what?”
    “It’s basic marketing—familiarity leads to loyalty.”
    “I thought familiarity breeds contempt.”
    “Only with critics, and they don’t buy enough tickets to matter anymore. And don’t forget merchandising, video games, DVD sales…You can get five or more movies out of a single franchise if you know how to work it.”
    Cape shook his head. “So you’re not making movies, you’re manufacturing them.”
    “Welcome to Hollywood.”
    “Seems a shame,” said Cape. “I go to the