Chapter 153: Changing Plans

After wrapping up an intense battle sequence, the crew took a temporary break. Sitting among the ruins in the winter sunlight with a steaming cup of coffee, Duke had just finished reviewing the latest footage. The annoyance from the morning's interrupted shoot had completely vanished, replaced by a cheerful chat with Tom Hanks and Leonardo DiCaprio.

"Did we go a little overboard?"

Leonardo's young face still showed a hint of inexperience. "Won't an explosion like that cause some negative fallout?"

"Fallout?" Duke seemed perplexed, wearing an expression that suggested they had done nothing wrong. "We're just shooting on schedule. We can't just take the day off because plans changed, right?"

"Makes sense."

As the person perhaps most affected earlier, Tom Hanks fully agreed with Duke. "My schedule is tight, too. I can't drag these scenes out indefinitely. The Oscar nominations will be announced in a few days, and I have to head back to North America."

"Should I congratulate you in advance?"

Tom Hanks shook his head at Duke's words. "I should be congratulating you, Duke. You've already locked down last year's North American box office crown."

Moving into 1995, Independence Day was still screening in nearly 200 theaters across North America. After nearly half a year of sustained momentum, its North American box office had finally surpassed the $357.06 million of Jurassic Park to reach $359.91 million. It set the best North American box office record in recent years, beating out the already-closed The Lion King and Forrest Gump to firmly seize the 1994 box office championship.

The film's global box office had reached $888.85 million. Although most overseas markets had concluded their runs, it was still steadily raking in cash in quite a few remote countries, making a run at the all-time highest box office record held by Jurassic Park.

These were certainly achievements worth congratulating. The main cast was willing to endure the demands of such a workaholic director because if Saving Private Ryan became a massive hit, they would all reap the benefits.

The sound of leather shoes crunching over the rubble rang out. Duke turned to see Robin Grande walking over.

"Something wrong?" Duke asked.

Unless it was an emergency, both production managers were practically invisible on set.

"Someone from the Braveheart crew came over," Robin Grande said, side-stepping a triangular chunk of ruined masonry. "They want to talk to you."

"Who is it?"

Duke wasn't the only one asking; beside him, Tom Hanks also looked interested. After all, he was the one most directly affected that morning.

"It's not Mel Gibson."

Perhaps having worked together long enough to occasionally guess Duke's spiteful thoughts, Robin Grande shook his head. "It's Bruce Davey, an executive producer for Braveheart."

Hearing this, Duke lost interest. "Robin, just let Charles meet with him. I'm sure he'd be more than happy to. You both know where my bottom line is."

"Our shooting schedule will not change."

With that, Robin Grande went off to find Charles Roven.

Sitting slightly behind them, Leonardo DiCaprio heard every word. The corner of his mouth twitched uncontrollably. It seemed this young director in front of him had quite a strong vindictive streak. Following the change in plans, they would be shooting the climactic final battle for the next few days, which featured no small number of explosions. If the neighboring crew wasn't going to be affected, he'd sooner believe Duke Rosenberg was a saint.

Getting up to leave the area, he had barely returned to the actors' rest area when he heard some shocking news from a few particularly well-informed individuals.

Just as the crew was filming the explosion scene a moment ago, the horses used for the shoot next door had been spooked. Not only did they stampede through the set, but they also caused varying degrees of injury to several people. Sean Connery was the most severely injured, potentially suffering a comminuted fracture in his right leg...

Looking back toward where he came from, Leonardo saw the young director laughing and joking with Tom Hanks. He seemed to pay absolutely no mind to what had happened next door, as if it had nothing to do with the Saving Private Ryan crew, as if Sean Connery's injury was purely an accident...

This... was Hollywood? Competition, both within and outside the rules, existed everywhere? If you wanted to climb to the top, if you wanted to be as successful as Duke Rosenberg and Tom Hanks, you couldn't fear all these different kinds of competition? You had to step on your opponents' heads?

The young Leonardo DiCaprio seemed to have gained a much deeper understanding of this industry.

While Duke regrouped the actors and various departments to resume filming, over in a makeshift reception room, Charles Roven met with Bruce Davey, who had come representing Mel Gibson.

"I apologize, Bruce," Charles Roven said unhurriedly. "This morning, so as not to disrupt the filming of Braveheart, Director Rosenberg had no choice but to adjust our shooting schedule. We've put enough distance between our sets to minimize the chances of affecting each other."

"The problem is your filming has already affected us!" Bruce Davey said, his face flush with anger. "The explosions you keep setting off have severely disrupted our shoot. Our horses were spooked by your blasts! Sean Connery was thrown from his horse and suffered serious injuries!"

"So what you're saying is..." Charles Roven's expression turned serious. "The Saving Private Ryan crew should take responsibility for this?"

"I wouldn't go so far as holding you responsible," Bruce Davey replied, his tone sour. "But you've severely impacted Director Gibson. Both sides need to sit down and negotiate a shooting schedule acceptable to everyone."

"That's exactly what I meant this morning." Charles Roven snorted softly and, without giving the other man a chance to speak, continued, "You should know the nickname the media and fans have given Director Rosenberg. We're shooting war scenes for the next few weeks, and a lot of the prep work is already done. Adjusting the schedule now will definitely cause losses. Who's going to cover that?"

"You..."

Bruce Davey felt rage rush straight to his head. They had clearly been shooting drama scenes that morning; the war scenes were a sudden change...

"We can only say we're sorry!"

Hearing Charles Roven's rather cold words, Bruce Davey realized this issue couldn't be resolved through negotiation. He said bluntly, "We'll be filing a complaint with the Guild regarding your egregious behavior!"

This thinly veiled threat stoked Charles Roven's own anger. Having been played for a fool by Mel Gibson that morning, he still had a belly full of fire with nowhere to vent it.

"Fine!" He stared intently at the man. "As a member of the Producers Alliance, since a severe safety accident has occurred on a crew, I believe I'm obligated to report it truthfully to the Screen Actors Guild!"

The injuries to Sean Connery and the others were indeed related to Saving Private Ryan, but from a legal standpoint, they had nothing to do with it. Besides, this was Ireland, not North America!

Watching Bruce Davey leave in frustration, Charles Roven felt much better. The humiliation of being made a fool of that morning had been paid back by Duke with a few explosions just half a day later. It was simply the best kind of counterattack.

As for Sean Connery's broken leg, he didn't care in the slightest. So what if they complained to the Guild? Moreover, Saving Private Ryan was backed by three major giants: Warner Brothers, Walt Disney, and Twentieth Century Fox!

Duke had absolutely no intention of caring about what kind of subsequent reaction would come from Braveheart. Hearing the news of Sean Connery's broken leg, he was only slightly taken aback before resuming his shoot. Regardless of what the other side did, his mind was made up: he was going to finish shooting the climactic final battle before dealing with anything else.

As for whether this would disrupt Mel Gibson's shooting schedule—just like the man's reaction after Charles Roven tried to negotiate—why the hell should he care?

Gunfire, artillery blasts, and explosions remained the theme on set for over a week.

"Clear the set! All non-essential personnel retreat beyond four hundred feet!"

Looking up at the abandoned clock tower, Duke personally held a megaphone and barked orders. "John, pan Camera One left fifteen degrees, capture it with a medium shot! Ben, I want a wide-angle close-up! David, make sure you get the tank!"

The camera crew was busily at work, the props department was adjusting the modified tank, and the pyrotechnics team had already gone up into the clock tower to set up the explosives. To blow up this half-collapsed, ruined building, the pyrotechnics team had once again resorted to military-grade explosives, which was exactly why Duke wanted all non-essential staff to fall back as far as possible.

When the sets were constructed here, dedicated camera positions had been reserved with certain protective measures in place, so there was no need to worry about flying debris posing a threat.

After nearly a month of working together, the team had found their best rhythm and condition. Though the constant explosions truly frayed the nerves, the people who had followed Duke for his third consecutive film had adapted to working in such a noisy environment. Even if they occasionally made minor mistakes, they could generally complete their respective jobs while maintaining both quality and pace.

Upon receiving notification from Joss William, Duke called for the set to be cleared again. After confirming that all departments were ready, he signaled the start of filming.

The German tank—modified from a Soviet-Made T-34 Tank—slowly turned its barrel, taking aim at the clock tower. A flash of gunpowder smoke erupted, and the top of the abandoned clock tower violently exploded. Rubble flew into the sky as nearly half the tower collapsed, crashing heavily onto the architectural ruins on the ground. Countless plumes of dust were kicked up, enveloping nearly half the set in a layer of dirt.

Crawling out from the main camera position covered in dirt, Duke ignored the wet towel his assistant handed him and first walked behind the director's monitor to review the freshly shot footage. The overall effect of this concentrated, violent explosion was quite good.

"Here you go."

By the time he looked up from the monitor, Sofia Coppola promptly handed him a still-steaming wet towel. Duke took it and wiped his face as he listened to her continue, "I just got a call from Nancy. Independence Day has received several award nominations."