Theories abound in the NY Times recently as to why Steven Spielberg had to go all the way to India for a new and improved DreamWorks deal: Wall Street is skittish! DVD revenue is slipping! Spielberg is overpriced! So on and so forth — all and none of which are true at the same time. What's buried waaay at the end of Brooks Barnes's users guide to Spielberg 2.0, however, is the key chapter explaining his quest for the one backer in the world who will just give him a half-billion dollars already and leave him alone:

With the capital markets in turmoil, terms have tightened substantially for movie deals. Investors are demanding faster payback schedules, better guarantees and even a say in how movies are made and marketed. None of that is acceptable to the DreamWorks team. Mr. Spielberg, who has directed more than 50 films, also wants to control his own destiny; at this point in his career, say friends, his accomplishments have earned him the right to have 100 percent control over his movies. Autonomy and ownership are paramount, and, at the moment, overseas investors are the most likely to allow Mr. Spielberg to write his own ticket, say studio executives.

We've already visited the Asian invasion among film financiers, from the Indian conglom that helped underwrite The Happening to Sony's buyout of MGM. It's not like they and Spielberg's new partners at Reliance ADA aren't risk-averse (the stability of 'Works president Stacey Snider is as imperative as Spielberg's own output), but you won't ever see them spinning to Barnes like Ron Meyer does today, alleging that Universal "[has] not been given the opening to be in business with DreamWorks.” Translation: "He had this unlisted-number condition that was, like, WTF? What if I had questions about this Amistad sequel? Seriously. He thinks Reliance won't bug him? They're a phone company, Steven! Get the hell off our lot." Gladly, Ron. Gladly.