Chapter: The Calm Before the Frenzy – Early February 1994
20th Century Fox Headquarters, Los Angeles
The sunlight slanted through the glass walls of the 20th Century Fox distribution wing's conference room, casting golden hues across polished oak and piles of papers strewn across the table—printouts of circulation numbers, viewership charts, call logs, and theater interest summaries. It had been two weeks since the first "Blair Witch" tape aired, and Colette Singer, head of film distribution, could hardly believe what she was seeing.
Colette leaned back in her chair, tapping a manicured finger against a viewership graph. "It appears our publicity program has been so successful it's borderline unbelievable."
Around the table, the senior members of Fox's distribution and marketing teams nodded, though some looked visibly fatigued from the breakneck pace of the past few days.
Colette's voice dropped an octave, a subtle warning: "That said, no one gets to relax. This isn't over. Every member of this department needs to move now. I want every street corner in North America filled with the missing person posters. Malls, universities, convenience stores, even libraries. Especially libraries."
A marketing coordinator across from her chimed in, "Fox TV has already rerun the original special four times a day. At least five million viewers have seen it, and that's a conservative estimate."
Another added, "We've pushed for three airings a day, one during primetime. They went above and beyond—ran it five times. Two in primetime. But they say viewership will drop without new material."
Colette waved her hand decisively. "Then cut another short clip. Get something fresh from that tape, even if it's just twenty seconds of static and someone crying. I want it ready for next week."
The coordinator nodded, stood up immediately, and rushed out, nearly knocking over a stack of folders.
Someone laughed nervously. "You know, in this country, if something's on TV, it must be real."
Another executive added with a grin, "I've had three parents call me to ask if their kids should avoid camping altogether."
Colette shook her head, amused. "College kids have started their own search parties. These kids think they would be the saviors as they are running towards various forests to find clues. This isn't just a movie campaign anymore—it's a national movement. And guess what? That's perfect."
She paused, her tone turning sly. "I already spoke to Helen and Amanda. All actors linked to this film—every single one—are off-grid. Right now, they're relaxing in Central Africa under the guise of shooting a documentary. Paid for entirely by Fox."
There was a moment of silence. Then someone muttered, "That's a hell of a vacation. Expensive too."
Colette smirked. "Cheaper than paying their managers to juggle press interviews while dodging media leaks. When this thing blows, we bring them back like they're being rescued from exile. Watch the cameras flash."
As if on cue, Helen's voice crackled over the speakerphone. "By the way, thanks for footing the bill for the Africa trip. You saved me from having to explain another expense to accounting."
A quiet chuckle rippled through the room. "Happy to help," Colette replied. "We need them away from cameras until we control the story. And speaking of control—downplay the director and the heroine in every mention. Let's build mystery around the film, not behind-the-scenes credits."
A few confused glances followed. One exec leaned forward. "Why downplay the director?"
"Because," Colette replied, leaning forward like she was revealing a trade secret, "people don't fear a well-credited film director. They fear the unknown. The less people know, the more they'll talk."
Another executive added slyly, "Of course we need to protect the director. This is just his first film."
Everyone nodded thoughtfully. It was, after all, a very smart decision.
She turned to the release strategist. "Now about the actual release. February 25th, wide launch. Start with 150 theaters a week early, gauge reaction, build momentum. But on the 25th, by the time we move towards a large scale release, I want 1,200 screens, if not more."
The strategist hesitated. "That might be difficult. Some theaters are skeptical. They want to see results before committing. Small-scale test runs are safer for them."
Colette didn't blink. "Then get those screenings started immediately. If the early box office numbers are solid, we push for a simultaneous release in all English-speaking countries. That means Canada, the UK, Australia—everywhere."
The room shifted with the buzz of action.
"Also, don't limit yourselves to Fox TV. Reach out to every national broadcaster. Local affiliates, talk shows, cable news—hell, even morning zoo radio if they'll talk about the witch. This has to feel like it's everywhere."
"But," said the PR lead, raising a cautious hand, "we also need to pace ourselves. We're two weeks from release. If we overdo it now, we'll burn the hype before the theaters even open."
Colette tapped the side of her coffee cup. "You're right. Steer the narrative, but don't stoke new fires. Keep the mystery burning, not exploding."
A legal rep in the corner added, "We've started preparing NDAs. By next week, every person involved with this production—even the interns—will be under contract."
"Good. Confidentiality is sacred. Even some of our own execs don't know the full plan," Colette said. "The less people know, the more tickets we sell."
As the meeting wrapped up, someone asked, "Eventually people will find out it was all a marketing stunt. What then?"
Colette stood, gathering her notes. "They'll complain, sure. But they'll complain on national talk shows, in op-eds, on morning radio. They'll complain about the film they paid to see. And while they complain... we'll be counting the money."
She smiled. "Now get moving. I want that 1,200-screen rollout locked in within the week."
And with that, the room emptied—buzzing with orders, calls being made mid-stride, and a growing awareness that The Blair Witch Project was no longer just a film. It was a media phenomenon in full motion.