The next day, Owen woke up early.
For a few seconds, he lay there staring at the ceiling, processing everything that had happened the day before. Then, almost on reflex, he grabbed his phone to reply to messages and check whether the first reviews had come out.
He unlocked the screen, and the first message he opened was from his mother.
There were several messages in a row, along with links.
The first one he read said:
[The first reviews are out!]
[They're really good!]
[For everyone who doubted your acting!]
Owen smiled slightly as he noticed the obvious excitement in every line.
His mother had been visibly emotional ever since they arrived at Sundance. Even more so after the night before. Not just because it was his first film as a lead actor that he hadn't financed himself, but because she had seen him perform like that, the audience reception, those nearly seven full minutes of sustained applause, and then the Q&A in front of a packed theater.
For her, that alone was already enormous. And of course, just thinking about having both her children at the Sundance Film Festival as artists was enough to move her.
But Owen's situation was even harder to process. It wasn't simply "my son is acting in a movie." It was more complex and improbable.
Owen opened the first link his mother had sent and began to read:
📰 INDIEWIRE
📍 [wwwindiewirecom]
🗓️ January 22, 2023 – 8:21 AM
✍️ By Daniel Wilson
🎬 'The Spectacular Now' Review: Owen Ashford Silences Skeptics in a Surprisingly Mature Coming-of-Age Drama at Sundance 2023
In one of the most talked-about premieres of the festival so far, Owen Ashford proves that his talent doesn't end at the screenplay. The Spectacular Now, produced by A24, is an honest and restrained look at adolescence that avoids melodrama and relies on the chemistry between its leads.
Ashford, who also wrote the script, delivers a naturalistic and surprisingly controlled performance. While parts of the character seem drawn from a recognizable personal experience, the actor sustains the emotional arc without leaning on tricks or theatrics.
His co-star, Jenna Ortega, further confirms her dramatic strength in a quieter yet essential role.
It's an honest portrait of the typical teenager, without the polished dialogue or overly sexualized relationships often seen in other teen-centered films.
Rating: B+
…
📰 THE HOLLYWOOD REPORTER
📍 [wwwhollywoodreportercom]
🗓️ January 22, 2023 – 8:36 AM
✍️ By Richard Rosen
🎬 Review: 'The Spectacular Now' — A24 Strikes Gold Again with a Script by Owen Ashford
Owen Ashford, whose career has been defined by his entrepreneurial instincts and writing ability, faces his most serious test yet as an actor here. The result is solid. Not dazzling in every scene, but consistent and believable.
The true strength of the film lies in the chemistry between Ashford and Jenna Ortega, which elevates the material beyond its classic coming-of-age structure.
It is one of the most honest and realistic teen films I've seen.
…
After that, Owen read other reviews: Variety, Collider, and a couple of smaller but respectable outlets. The pattern was similar, pleasant surprise, emphasis on the chemistry, and recognition of his performance, though without artificially inflating it as if it were an Oscar-worthy role.
Then he opened Twitter through a link his mother had sent him. It was from a large film-tracking account.
@FilmUpdateDaily – 9:12 AM · Jan 22, 2023
The Spectacular Now, the A24 film starring Owen Ashford and Jenna Ortega, which premiered last night at the Sundance Film Festival, debuts on Rotten Tomatoes with:
🍅 94% approval from critics
📊 22 critic reviews in under 24 hours
The tweet had:
🔁 18.4K Retweets
❤️ 62.1K Likes
💬 4,302 Replies
'Not bad,' he thought. A 94% was solid for the first twenty or so reviews from critics.
It was obvious that as more reviews came in over the next few days, the score would likely trend slightly downward, that was usually how it went.
He scrolled down to read some of the replies to the tweet.
@arthousekid:
94% with 14 reviews is a strong start. This could really hold.
@diana7-7:
A24 landing another win, and once again with Owen. Cinema ✋
@Joshduan1:
The important thing is that nobody's trashing it. That's a good sign. Can't wait to see it when it hits theaters.
@zerom.8196:
A lot of those reviews praised Owen's performance. For a dramatic lead debut, that's very solid.
@owenFANPAGE77:
THEY DOUBTED.
@gofuckSPEED:
22 reviews mean nothing. Wait until it gets to 100+. And especially when the full audience score drops. That's when you really see if it's good. Rotten Tomatoes critics always inflate these kinds of festival movies. I don't trust it.
@gladysaven (replying to @gofuckSPEED):
I was at the premiere yesterday, not as a critic, and I have to admit it was genuinely entertaining. The reviews aren't inflated.
@lucasbernstein:
A24 doesn't even need traditional marketing anymore. You just put: Owen Ashford + Jenna Ortega and that's it.
@filmnerd93:
If it stays above 80% with 100 reviews, that's a full critical success.
@jennaluvr21:
I already can't wait for it to come out so I can go see Jenna!
@owenarchieFP:
Owen's two films so far in terms of reception:
Paranormal Activity = 86% Critics – 88% All Audience
The Spectacular Now = 94% Critics – ??? All Audience
Is there anything this guy can't do?
…
Owen slid his finger across the screen. There was debate about whether those reviews were reliable or not.
You'd think they would be. But part of the general audience had already begun to view Rotten Tomatoes with a certain degree of skepticism. Some argued that at festivals, the first opinions usually come from critics more favorable toward independent cinema. And there was always the classic argument: let's wait for the audience score.
It was part of the current ecosystem. And Owen didn't think it was a bad thing. In fact, he leaned more toward trusting the general audience than ultra-cinephile circles or overly pretentious critics.
Jenna's fandom was also obvious, very noticeable and active. Owen's followers were there, but in terms of sheer volume, they weren't comparable. Wednesday had truly exploded, and the momentum was still strong.
But what was clear was that there was conversation. And that was good for the film, which would be released on March 16, 2023.
The teaser, barely even a full trailer, had surpassed ten million views in just a few weeks. A number well above what was typical for a mid-budget coming-of-age film, even for A24.
And on top of that, the critical reception at the premiere had been favorable.
Viral trailer + solid critical response.
'It'll definitely do better than in my past life,' Owen thought, locking his phone and setting it aside.
He got out of bed, and the next question surfaced almost immediately in his mind:
How much will it make at the box office?
In his past life, The Spectacular Now was released in 2013. With a budget of $2.5 million, it grossed $6.8 million. Nothing spectacular, but it did its job. It nearly tripled its cost at the box office, which in indie terms was a modest and healthy success.
Its leads in that timeline, Miles Teller and Shailene Woodley, were not yet massive names.
Teller had a solid reputation in the indie circuit, but he hadn't yet done Whiplash, the project that would cement him with the wider public.
Woodley was more recognizable, thanks to her Golden Globe nomination for The Descendants, and she was seen as a serious and promising young actress. But her major commercial breakthroughs, Divergent and The Fault in Our Stars, would arrive in 2014, after the release of that film.
But in this reality, the landscape was different.
Owen, at this point, was far bigger in media terms than Teller had been in 2013. Not just as an actor, but as a public figure, seen not only as an actor and screenwriter, but as a young producer with creative control.
And Jenna, after the Wednesday boom, was considerably bigger than Woodley had been in 2013, and even more visible than Woodley was in 2014.
The commercial context simply wasn't comparable.
The film was still a coming-of-age drama, but the level of exposure of its leads was entirely different, so it would likely surpass $6.8 million easily.
As Owen left his room and headed toward the hotel dining area to have breakfast with his mother and the others, he found himself thinking again about one of the comments he had read on Twitter.
Someone had pointed out that his track record now included:
-86% critics and 88% audience for Paranormal Activity.
-94% critics for The Spectacular Now (though with few reviews so far).
That made him reflect. On Rotten Tomatoes, the percentages roughly break down like this:
0–49%: clear critical failure.
50–59%: mixed or mediocre.
60–69%: barely approved, scraping Fresh.
70–79%: good reception.
80–84%: very good reception.
85–89%: excellent critical reception.
90–95%: acclaimed.
95%+: near-unanimous. Extremely rare.
Paranormal Activity, for a horror film, had achieved a very strong critical response. And more interestingly, audiences had rated it even slightly higher.
He remembered it had already accumulated around 279 reviews and had maintained a solid percentage for months.
It wasn't accidental. Owen had improved the script compared to the version from his past life. Better-written characters. Tighter pacing. Less unnecessary improvisation and more intentional dialogue. And more carefully constructed psychological horror.
And the performances shouldn't be overlooked. He didn't think of it arrogantly, but objectively. Sophie and he had delivered far stronger performances than the original version's leads.
He couldn't remember the exact percentage the original film had received in his other life, but he was certain his version had done better critically. With audiences, the difference was even clearer: 88%.
The original in his world hadn't aged well over the years. Audiences had gradually downgraded it. He believed it hovered around 60% or even lower.
In contrast, his version held up much better.
He thought about this because many actors, even great ones, have one or several missteps in their filmography. Films poorly received by critics. Or torn apart by audiences. Or both.
How unusual would it be to accumulate a 100% streak of good films? Not just acceptable. Not just "solid." But consistently well received by both critics and audiences.
It would be extremely rare, practically nonexistent.
Not that it changes the world. It doesn't automatically earn you awards. But deep down, in that quiet corner of the ego everyone has, the part that wants to be the best at what they do, it meant something.
To be flawless.
To have a perfect filmography.
His advantage was obvious, and unfair. He had an entire library of films in his head. He knew how they had performed in his past life. Unlike most actors, he didn't depend on auditions for uncertain projects. He wasn't at the mercy of a script that could fail without warning.
That wasn't his situation.
He knew which films had worked. Which had been acclaimed. Which had failed. He knew what stories would connect, which scripts could be adapted to the current context, and what changes were needed to improve them.
He didn't depend on luck. He depended on execution.
And of course, that implied something else: always acting in his own productions or in scripts he controlled. Not accepting roles in films whose outcome he didn't know.
That gave him security, but it also had a cost.
There was something attractive about risk. About accepting someone else's project without knowing how it would turn out. And especially about working on something completely unknown.
Owen had breakfast around ten-thirty. Later than usual, but he wasn't in a hurry.
Their third day at the Sundance Film Festival was calmer. There was no premiere. They didn't have to attend the first block where their short films were screening. It was essentially a free day.
After breakfast, they walked through Park City and went into a couple of screenings that caught their interest, but the excitement wasn't the same as during the first two days. They had absorbed too much cinema in too little time.
Tyler carried the camera, in case something interesting came up for the vlog, but compared to the first days, everything felt more relaxed, far less charged with emotion.
At three in the afternoon, the group was gathered in Owen's room, which had already started functioning as a sort of operations headquarters.
The only person missing was Elizabeth, who had gone back to her own room.
Eric was sprawled across the bed, staring at the ceiling with his arms crossed behind his head. "I don't want to step into another theater," he declared with exaggerated drama.
"Yeah," Gaten muttered, collapsed on a couch as if he had just run a marathon.
No one argued.
For the previous two days, they had been going from ten in the morning until nearly ten at night watching films. Twelve hours a day. Conversations, Q&As, walking between venues.
It was enough cinema for today.
Then Sarah spoke. She was sitting by the dark wooden desk, elbow resting on it, her hand supporting her cheek. "What awards do you think we could win?" she asked curiously.
She meant what awards Paperman and The Black Hole could realistically aim for.
Matt, who had been half-asleep, suddenly straightened up as if someone had flipped a switch. "Like I said before, there are three awards we can realistically aim for," he said, raising three fingers.
"The Grand Jury Prize, the Jury Award, and the Audience Award, right?" Gaten chimed in without moving from the couch.
"Yeah… but I'd take the Grand Jury Prize off the list," Matt replied, shaking his head. "I'd leave just the other two."
Tyler slightly raised the camera. "What? Why? That sounds pessimistic."
Matt sighed. "The Short Film Grand Jury Prize is the most prestigious. But the jury usually leans toward very auteur-driven, visually bold, more experimental works. I'm not saying we're out, but our odds there are lower."
Eric made a face. "So basically, movies nobody understands but everyone pretends to understand."
Gaten and the others laughed.
"You can call it that. It's a different kind of sensitivity, more pure festival style," Matt said in a mildly instructive tone.
Owen stopped typing on his laptop and looked up. "The Jury Award U.S. Fiction is more specific. We compete better there. Paperman and One Minute Time Machine fit that category more naturally."
Matt nodded repeatedly. "Exactly. Much more viable."
Gaten crossed his arms. "So we're officially ruling out the misunderstood-art prize."
"Not ruled out one hundred percent," Matt corrected. "Just statistically more complicated."
He paused, then added:
"But the one I think we almost have locked is the Audience Award. It depends on the crowd, and our shorts got the strongest reactions in the room. And let's be honest, they're the most mainstream of all the shorts here."
"Paperman or One Minute Time Machine?" Gaten asked.
Matt shrugged. "I don't know. Paperman has more emotional weight. One Minute Time Machine is more accessible and fun. But since we have both, I'd say the Audience Award is ours at about 80%."
"Eighty?" Eric repeated. "That sounds dangerously confident."
"Don't underestimate it. We have two shorts competing. If there's a category where we have a real edge, it's that one," Owen said calmly.
The room fell silent for a few seconds.
"And what about The Spectacular Now? What awards could that win?" Sarah asked again.
"The Grand Jury Prize, U.S. Dramatic, the most prestigious one, but for feature films. Or the U.S. Dramatic Audience Award, which is voted on by the public," Owen replied.
"With you and Jenna, they'll win that," Sarah said, and the others nodded.
The room fell quiet again, conversation fading.
"So what do we do?" Eric asked, staring back at the ceiling.
"I don't know…" Gaten stretched the words lazily.
A few more seconds of silence passed.
Then Tyler, who had been reviewing something on the camera until that point, looked up. "Skiing?"
Three heads turned toward him at the same time.
"What?" Matt said.
"Skiing," Tyler repeated, this time more firmly.
Eric, Matt, and Gaten's eyes widened almost in sync.
"Skiing!" the three of them repeated, as if they had just remembered they were in Utah and not in some random hotel.
They had spent two days talking about film, watching film, breathing film, and had completely forgotten they were literally next to the mountains.
Owen smiled slightly. "We're in Deer Valley. It would almost be offensive not to."
The plan was decided within minutes.
They began heading toward the hotel's Ski Concierge, the premium service that handled equipment rentals, thermal gear, helmets, boots, and everything they would need, without having to go out and look for anything themselves.
"Now this is going to give us some interesting content," Tyler commented with a grin, stroking the camera like it was treasure. He was already imagining someone's epic fall in slow motion.
"You could tell Jenna," Matt suddenly said, looking at Owen.
The conversations died instantly.
Everyone turned to look at him.
"What?" Owen asked, genuinely surprised.
"I mean, you two are friends, right?" Matt continued with a shrug. "She invited us to the New Year's party. We met her group of friends."
"That's true!" Tyler exclaimed. "Gold content for the vlog! Wednesday Addams skiing with us!"
He was already picturing the thumbnail.
A thumbnail is a reduced and compressed version of an image or video that serves as a visual preview, designed to grab attention and increase click-through rate.
"Wouldn't be a bad idea…" Sarah murmured, almost to herself. She would actually love to get to know her better. She had watched Wednesday and had been impressed by her performance. As an actress, she found it interesting to talk to someone who was at such a high point in her career.
Owen hesitated. "I don't know…"
"Come on," Gaten insisted. "Yesterday at the Q&A you two looked pretty close."
"That's called chemistry between leads," Owen replied with the ultimate poker face.
After saying it, he fell silent for a few seconds.
Jenna had come with the A24 team. She was probably in her room, maybe resting or just bored. Unlike them, she had come alone, not with friends.
But if Owen invited her and she accepted, they would have to keep that clean friends/colleagues façade. Nothing more. No prolonged glances. No private jokes. None of that closeness that was no longer exactly friendship.
"Fine. I'll call her and ask," Owen finally said, pulling his phone out of his pocket. "You guys go ahead."
Eric raised his arms as if they had just won something. "Yes!"
"More premium content," Tyler muttered.
Sarah smiled discreetly.
"Tell her it's not mandatory," Matt added casually, though clearly amused by the situation.
"Yeah, yeah," Owen replied as the others left, giving him space to call.
Jenna answered almost immediately.
That detail didn't go unnoticed by Owen. Maybe she didn't have much to do. It wasn't exactly fun going to screenings alone in Park City, and the A24 team wasn't there to go sightseeing.
Owen proposed the plan casually, clarifying that it had been Matt's and the others' idea.
There was a brief silence on the other end before she replied, "Okay. Sounds fun."
Minutes later, Owen went to pick her up from her room so they could head together to the Ski Concierge.
He knocked twice, and the door opened.
"Hey," Owen greeted, pausing for a second.
Jenna was wearing a fitted black wool sweater, dark jeans, and her hair loose, slightly wavy. Effortlessly elegant.
"Hey," she replied.
Owen glanced both ways down the hallway. Empty.
Without thinking too much, he stepped forward, crossed the threshold into her room, and almost without warning, kissed her quickly.
Jenna was surprised for a second, but she kissed him back. Then she took a step back.
"Owen?" she said, her voice slightly higher, clearly not expecting that, especially from him. "That was risky."
Owen stepped back half a pace, barely smiling. "That makes it a little more exciting, doesn't it?"
Jenna shook her head, not exactly denying it.
"We have to be more careful if we want to keep this a secret," she said in a lower tone.
Owen raised an eyebrow. "What do you mean?"
There were no real suspicions. No one actually suspected anything.
Jenna unlocked her phone. "Look at this."
She showed him a Twitter clip of them during the Q&A the day before, when The Spectacular Now had just ended.
Owen looked at the screen curiously. The account was called: @screenpulse1992.
The title read:
Jenna Ortega calls Owen Ashford an 'indie genius' during The Spectacular Now Q&A at Sundance 👀
Below it, the twenty-seven-second clip had already racked up over 1.2M views, 30K likes, and thousands of replies.
"Read the replies," Jenna said.
Owen nodded slightly and read:
@cineconlena:
The way they talk to each other and the comfort level is way too natural…
@wednesdaycult666:
THE LOOK SHE GAVE HIM 😭
@lucyfilms:
Jenna looked genuinely amused.
@Rafael1critic:
It's marketing. They always do this with romance films. Relax.
@lauravillalba:
Sorry, but that smile wasn't just professional.
@SethlTalk:
They'll deny everything and in six months we'll get paparazzi photos.
@marianfilms:
I'm not into theories, but this is suspicious.
@Ryaan2002:
One question turned into shipping. Classic.
…
Owen stopped reading. "Typical. It always happens with these kinds of movies. And the marketing team doesn't exactly want us acting cold toward each other either," he said casually. "It makes sense."
Then he looked up at Jenna with a half-smile. "You should already be used to this. I remember when Wednesday came out, there were rumors and theories that you had something going on with Emma Myers."
A more obvious grin appeared on his face. "So? Was there something? And you just hid it as well as we're hiding this?"
Jenna rolled her eyes. "You're not taking me seriously."
She crossed her arms. "And no, there's nothing with Emma. Just the internet doing what it does best, making things up and then convincing itself they're real."
Owen chuckled lightly. "This is the same thing. It's the moment. And when we show up in my vlog, there'll be even more talk. It's normal. Don't overthink it."
"Ready?"
Jenna looked at him for a few seconds before answering.
What she felt wasn't paranoia.
It was awareness.
During the Q&A, for a brief moment, she had forgotten about the façade. The "indie genius" joke had come out too naturally. With another co-star, she wouldn't have said it like that. Not in that tone. Not with that look she gave him.
That was what unsettled her. Because it hadn't been acting. It had been spontaneous.
'Well, if this ever comes out, he'd better take responsibility,' Jenna thought, looking at Owen.
"Let's go. But maintain strategic distance, Ashford."
"Of course. Professional friends," Owen replied as if it were obvious.
And just like that, the third day of the festival came to an end. The fourth passed faster than all the others.
It was awards day. Jury and audience.
Matt's predictions had been fairly accurate.
In the short film category, they didn't take home the Short Film Grand Jury Prize. That one went to a more auteur-driven and radical proposal, just as he had predicted.
But they didn't leave empty-handed.
They won two awards.
Paperman received the Short Film Jury Award (U.S. Fiction), a direct recognition from the jury for its narrative quality and execution.
And One Minute Time Machine won the Short Film Audience Award. Logical: it was cleverer and more immediately engaging, connecting with the room from the very first minute.
If getting two short films selected at Sundance was already extremely difficult, winning two awards in the same edition was even rarer.
They had competed against more than sixty official short films, selected from thousands of submissions. Just being there placed them in a tiny percentage. Winning positioned them, statistically, within the top 1–3% of everything presented that year.
And as a not-so-minor detail, there was prize money as well.
Ten thousand dollars for Paperman.
Seven thousand five hundred for One Minute Time Machine.
In total: $17,500. Not a fortune.
Owen decided to split the money among the entire team. He didn't make a ceremony out of it. No emotional speech. He simply did it.
And in the case of The Spectacular Now, they won the U.S. Dramatic Audience Award.
It wasn't the Grand Jury Prize, the most prestigious from the jury's perspective. But for A24, and for the film's commercial future, the Audience Award was, in many ways, even more valuable.
It meant that the public had voted, and liked the movie.
It wasn't just a small group of critics or three jury members finding the proposal interesting or bold. It was a full theater of viewers choosing that film over the others.
A more tangible market thermometer.
For John, one of A24's owners who had attended, it was exactly the signal he wanted to see.
Owen returned home on Monday night, January twenty-third.
The next day, in addition to resuming in-person rehearsals with the Good Will Hunting cast, he worked with Matt and Tyler to edit the vlog.
They had already been cutting footage during the festival, selecting the strongest moments. Within twenty-four hours, it was ready.
A video over twenty-five minutes long, with dynamic pacing, natural flow, and clear viral moments.
He uploaded it on January twenty-fifth. The first hours were strong. Notifications across his social media exploded. On Twitter, clips were already circulating, the most viral ones featuring Jenna.
The days passed, and February first arrived. While Owen was flying first class to Boston, where Good Will Hunting would officially begin filming, he opened YouTube on his phone and went straight to his latest upload.
18.3 million views.
In seven days.
'That's insane for a vlog,' Owen thought, staring at the number on the screen.
-------------------------------------------------
You can read 15 chapters in advance on my patreon.
Link: https://[email protected]/Nathe07