Chapter 296: Just a Dream?

"How many times have you seen it? I caught two showings yesterday, and I'm planning to watch it again today."

On the television screen, a young man standing in front of a theater was being interviewed by a reporter.

"See this? I bought it specifically for this. Cool, right?"

The May sun didn't seem to bother him at all. He wore a black trench coat exactly like Neo's, paired with the same Ray-Ban sunglasses and thick black combat boots. With a Nokia Phone in his hand, he looked as though Neo had stepped straight off the screen.

"You really like The Matrix?"

"I absolutely love it!"

He stared at the reporter as if looking at an idiot. Then, perhaps to show off or just to imitate the character, he grabbed his Nokia Phone and pressed a button. The cover sprang open, and he mimicked Neo by dialing a number...

Spielberg picked up the remote, shut off the television, and leaned back on the sofa. His eyes fell once more on the North American box office data in his hand.

These were the daily figures for yesterday, Friday. Unsurprisingly, the number one spot was claimed without contest, though the gross was much higher than Warner Brothers and the rest of the industry had projected.

The Matrix: 3,122 theaters, $18.67 million on Friday, North American cumulative $18.67 million.

Deep Impact: 2,014 theaters, $4.52 million on Friday, North American cumulative $41.11 million.

City of Angels: 1,522 theaters, $3.22 million on Friday, North American cumulative $45.87 million.

Titanic: 757 theaters, $2.41 million on Friday, North American cumulative $600.01 million.

No matter when these films were released, they had all clearly taken a hit from The Matrix. This was especially true for Deep Impact. Spielberg estimated that DreamWorks' blockbuster would see its North American box office plummet by at least fifty percent compared to its opening weekend. The opening had already been underwhelming; now, the second week was turning out even worse.

Fortunately, there was a film on the list suffering an even worse fate, giving Spielberg a shred of comfort.

Released by Lionsgate Pictures, the French film Taxi—which had performed quite well in Europe—premiered concurrently with The Matrix in 455 North American theaters. It pulled in a pitiful $82,156...

Spielberg shook his head, tossing aside that fleeting sense of comfort. Lionsgate Pictures clearly harbored no high hopes when they scheduled Taxi for this time slot. It was exceedingly rare for a continental European film to achieve massive box office success in North America anyway.

Barring any miracles, Taxi was doomed to a three-day tour of North American theaters.

His gaze returned to The Matrix and Deep Impact. Spielberg knew very well that, at this stage, DreamWorks lacked the power to alter either film's box office trajectory. He could only hope that Deep Impact would recoup its costs...

As for The Matrix, he had no idea how high its final gross would climb. However, judging from the reports pouring in since last night, the frenzy over its merchandise was already outstripping Titanic and approaching the levels of the Jurassic Park franchise.

If things continued at this pace, Warner Brothers and Duke Studio would likely make back their entire investment purely from merchandise partnerships!

Why did every movie produced by Duke Studio succeed? Why was it so hard for DreamWorks to take even a single step forward?

Frowning, he sighed. Spielberg naturally knew the reason, yet he refused to give up so easily. Some people, however, had reached the point where they had to be cut loose.

Picking up his phone, he dialed David Geffen.

"David, I suggest," he said, his tone exceedingly grave, "that DreamWorks cease all future collaborations with Martin Bob!"

There were many reasons why Deep Impact had fallen far short of expectations, but the most direct managers of the project were himself and CAA's Martin Bob.

Spielberg didn't want his influence within DreamWorks to diminish over this project, which made Martin Bob the perfect scapegoat. Moreover, he wasn't the only one who needed a fall guy; David Geffen and Jeffrey Katzenberg also needed someone—or some excuse—to answer to their shareholders and investors.

As Saturday arrived, following a full day of screenings and the rapid spread of word-of-mouth, the per-screen attendance for The Matrix climbed even higher. The internet had become a crucial battleground for Warner Brothers and Duke Studio in their post-release marketing. News articles and discussion threads about the film flooded major websites and forums.

In an era before paid online shills had completely saturated the web, the effectiveness of this marketing was staggering. The paid online shills mobilized by the Penny Kellis Online Public Relations Department had practically conquered the most critical movie stronghold on the internet: IMDB.

Although the site's voting algorithm wasn't as simple as calculating a raw average, manipulating the ratings wasn't particularly difficult for a massive army of paid online shills—just as it had been during the countless review-bombing wars in IMDB's history. Over the first day of its release, the rating for The Matrix had held steady at around 9.7, and the user review section was a chorus of praise.

True, many viewers found deep philosophical meaning in the film, and a handful of critics like Kenneth Turan even praised its intellectual depth. Yet, the film's promotional campaign completely ignored those themes. Instead, it hammered home the most superficial, straightforward hook: cool, flashy, and thrilling!

No film could please everyone. There were criticisms, of course, and the rating of The Matrix inevitably restricted some viewers. Family audiences with minors were bound to skip an R-Rated Film. These factors constrained its box office, preventing The Matrix from experiencing the kind of single-day explosion that Independence Day had enjoyed.

Fortunately, the film's merchandise sales were explosive enough.

"I just got the rough statistics."

Robin Grande practically sprinted into Duke's office. Pulling up a chair, he sat down opposite him.

"Over the course of yesterday, North American merchandise sales for The Matrix hit around $7.8 million! A significant number of retail locations have already sold out completely!"

"What's the sales commission we negotiated with the major manufacturers?"

Having slept poorly the night before, combined with the grueling workload of juggling The Lord of the Rings and The Matrix, exhaustion left Duke's head swimming.

"Why can't I remember?"

"Thirty percent!" Tina Fey reminded him.

Duke nodded and took a sip of strong coffee.

"Looks like our merchandise revenue won't be a problem."

"Definitely not a problem."

Accepting the coffee Tina Fey handed him, Robin Grande thanked her before continuing.

"Under normal circumstances, merchandise sales usually hit their peak about a week after a film's release. Also, if the global box office exceeds $500 million, the major sponsors will have to kick in an additional ten percent in sponsorship fees."

Feeling his head ache, Duke stood up.

"I didn't sleep well last night, so I'm heading home first. If anything comes up, Robin, you and Tina can handle it together."

Leaving Duke Studio, Duke drove his newly upgraded Bentley out onto the congested streets of Burbank, heading toward Malibu. Along the way, he made a point to pass by two commercial multiplexes. While there were no massive ticket lines like those seen during Titanic, "saviors" were frequently appearing near the theaters. Fans dressed in black trench coats and sunglasses used the cinemas as their hubs, constantly fanning out into the surrounding areas.

The Bentley cruised past a theater in Burbank's western suburbs, leaving only a wisp of exhaust in its wake. A group of young men exiting the cinema had no idea that the director of the film they were discussing had just driven by. They were completely engrossed in discussing the movie they had just watched.

"Neo's fight scenes were so awesome!"

One of the guys dressed in a black trench coat and sunglasses said, "Especially that final showdown with Smith!"

Another—who was also wearing a black trench coat and sunglasses—chimed in.

"Tyler, I still think Trinity is cooler. Her Gun Kata focuses on agility and speed; she's unbelievably agile."

The only person in the group dressed normally spoke up.

"Tyler, James, is that all you guys noticed? I think the coolest person is the director, Duke Rosenberg."

"But he didn't even appear in the movie, Jerry!" the first speaker retorted.

Jerry curled his lips dismissively.

"Don't forget, Duke is both the director and the screenwriter. He created this entire world. If he can make a movie this cool, don't you think he's cool?"

After thinking it over for a second, the others nodded in agreement.

Glancing at his friends, Jerry continued.

"Besides, the story isn't over yet. What's going to happen to Neo and the Matrix in the end?"

"And what exactly is Zion..."

After discussing it for a few moments, the group suddenly stopped in their tracks. Tyler spoke up.

"I was so focused on how cool everything looked, I'm just now realizing I missed a ton of details."

"Me too," James agreed.

Jerry was the first to turn back around.

"Then let's go watch it again!"

Not everyone was solely focused on acting cool and looking slick. As time passed, many people began deeply analyzing the plot. The internet, in particular, was flooded with a variety of interpretations that even blew Duke's mind. This wasn't a bad thing, however. Fans who believed they had uncovered hidden details often bought tickets to see the film a second time.

Early Sunday morning, when the Saturday box office numbers came in, Duke was forced to stay home. He was sick. It wasn't anything serious, just a common cold and a fever. Perhaps all the exhaustion he had accumulated over the past few years had finally caught up with him, or perhaps it was just his Caucasian constitution. Whatever the case, the fever and cold left him dizzy, forcing him to finally rest.

"Just give me the numbers for the three most recently released movies."

Having taken his medicine, Duke slouched on the sofa. He spoke to Tina Fey with a nasal voice.

"Keep your distance so you don't catch it."

Tina Fey sat on a couch a solid ten feet away.

"The Matrix made $19.97 million, Deep Impact made $3.85 million, and Taxi made $62,156."

She glanced at Duke, then got up to bring him a glass of hot water.

"According to theater feedback, Taxi will be pulled from North American theaters tomorrow."

Duke wasn't surprised by the fate of the film produced by Luc Besson. He vaguely remembered that while the movie had been relatively successful in other regions, its original North American box office hadn't even cracked $300,000. It was incredibly difficult for a pure foreign import to achieve blockbuster status in North America.

"Deep Impact's box office probably won't be enough to recover its costs," Tina Fey added.

Picking up the glass, Duke took a sip of water and simply lay flat on the sofa.

"We'll know for sure once the weekend box office numbers come out."