Chapter 305: Monsters vs. Hackers

Much like the constant changing of the guard in Hollywood across every era, newly released films always squeezed the breathing room of older ones. Most of the time, as long as a new release had solid quality and strong marketing, it could easily crush the movies already in theaters.

The newly released Mission: Impossible was exactly like this.

Despite plenty of media smear campaigns and rivals inciting fans of the original TV series to protest the film adaptation, the movie's quality spoke for itself. The marketing and distribution were handled perfectly, and Tom Cruise possessed immense superstar draw. By the time the weekend passed, Mission: Impossible had emerged as the new winner.

The film opened in 3,055 theaters across North America, raking in $46.65 million over the three-day weekend and snatching the weekly box office crown from the three-time champion, The Matrix.

Having lost its top spot, The Matrix still maintained an incredibly stable and healthy drop. It pulled in $18.55 million over the same period, pushing its cumulative North America box office to $252.14 million and ensuring it still dominated the annual charts.

Taking a hit from Mission: Impossible, Armageddon and Godzilla grossed $16.25 million and $9.65 million this weekend, respectively, bringing their total North American grosses to $72.11 million and $82.33 million.

Beyond their box office hauls, these massive blockbuster productions also saw vast differences in audience reception.

Nearly a month after its release, audience word of mouth for The Matrix had dipped slightly, yet its favorable rating held strong at 87 percent. On IMDB, 3,025 users had submitted ratings, giving it a staggering score of 9.35.

Of course, thanks to the active participation of massive armies of paid online shills, this IMDB score was essentially meaningless.

Mission: Impossible had just been released, and its audience reception was quite good, sitting at an 85 percent favorable rating.

Meanwhile, the favorable ratings for Armageddon and Godzilla plunged to 70 and 60 percent, respectively.

This summer, Tom Cruise, much like Duke, was destined for infinite glory.

Unlike Tom Cruise, who was busy embarking on his North American promotional tour, Duke had missed The Matrix's North American press run due to illness. As cast members like Keanu Reeves and Charlize Theron flew overseas, he remained in Los Angeles to begin preparations for his next phase of work.

An old friend specifically sought out Duke Studio.

"Duke, we're old friends."

Inside the office, the tall Christopher Lee sat beside Duke.

"I am desperately asking to play Gandalf," he said in a resonant voice. "This is a dream of mine. I've been dreaming of this moment for twenty years. I would play this role for zero pay."

Looking at Christopher Lee's graying hair and the age spots dotting his face, Duke frowned. As a die-hard fan of The Lord of the Rings, he had watched the films and their behind-the-scenes footage more than ten times. He naturally remembered that Christopher Lee's preferred choice was Gandalf, not Saruman.

However, Duke still had no intention of letting him play Gandalf.

It wasn't that he was unsuited for the role, but simply that he was too old.

Duke thought it over before saying, "Lee, Gandalf has a massive amount of fight scenes..."

Christopher Lee, sitting across from him, was just about to speak when Duke raised a hand to interrupt him.

"Hear me out first," Duke said. "We can certainly use stunt doubles for the action scenes, but there are a lot of scenes involving trekking through the wilderness and struggling in front of a blue screen that require the actor to be there in person."

"Lee, don't forget that you're almost eighty years old," Duke said bluntly. "As a director and investor, I have to consider the safety of my actors, and I have to consider the production crew as a whole."

Duke was stating an unchangeable, objective fact. Thinking of his own failing health, a touch of disappointment inevitably surfaced on Christopher Lee's face.

"Working with you one more time," he said with absolute sincerity, "has always been a dream of mine. I am willing to play any role in your film for zero pay."

After The Rock, Christopher Lee had experienced a massive surge in fame, but he hadn't landed any outstanding works or roles in recent years. At his age, it wouldn't be an exaggeration to describe him as a wily old fox. As long as he appeared in Duke's movie, it guaranteed a massive amount of attention—and the subsequent backend benefits would inevitably far exceed whatever upfront salary he gave up.

Duke just smiled. He wouldn't consider zero pay or anything like that. In Hollywood, there was no such thing as giving without expecting something in return.

"Lee, have your agent get in touch with Charles Roven," he said slowly. "You should prepare yourself for Saruman."

Christopher Lee left shortly after.

Duke looked toward Tina Fey on the other side of the office. "Remember to notify Charles. Same old rules."

Tina Fey understood what Duke meant and jotted it down in her work log.

The Lord of the Rings trilogy required a massive cast. Extras and minor roles could be cast right before filming began, but the lead actors and their stunt doubles needed to be locked down as early as possible. They would have to undergo lengthy training in physical fitness, swordsmanship, and archery.

Swordsmanship and archery in particular required hiring specialized coaches. The Lord of the Rings trilogy was purely a Western epic, and Duke would not consider incorporating any martial arts choreography from the East.

Throwing Eastern kung fu or similar fighting styles into a quintessential Western fantasy epic would just be a total joke.

Sitting behind his desk, Duke recalled the original cast of The Lord of the Rings.

"Send out audition invitations to Elijah Wood, Viggo Mortensen, Orlando Bloom, Ian McKellen, Sean Davis, Cate Blanchett, Hugo Weaving, Billy Boyd, Sean Astin..." he listed for Tina Fey.

It had been too long; he had inevitably forgotten a few names.

Having said that, Duke suddenly thought of another crucial person—the man who was once Hollywood's foremost figure in motion capture.

"Also, Tina," he continued. "Gather a file on Andy Serkis for me."

"Andy Serkis?"

Judging by her expression, Tina Fey seemed to recognize the name.

"When I was having tea with Naomi Watts last time, I heard her mention him," she said. "I think he's currently acting in King Kong."

"Acting in King Kong?"

Duke frowned slightly before breaking into a smile. This was a good thing. If his guess was right, Peter Jackson was undoubtedly utilizing motion capture technology. That would only add to Andy Serkis's experience in that exact field.

"Make sure to send an audition invite to Andy Serkis as well," he said.

After a moment of thought, Duke added, "For the new project, besides Gerard Butler, send an audition invitation to Liam Neeson."

Tina Fey jotted everything down in her work log. However, hearing Duke bring up the new project, she asked, "Doug Walter called me. Warner Bros. is asking about the script's progress. They want to push it into the review phase as soon as possible."

"Tell them I will definitely give them a draft of the script before late June."

After finishing the first third of the script and outlining the plot and characters, Duke had handed this new script over to the earliest established department in Duke Studio—the Editorial Department. Multiple screenwriters were currently fleshing it out according to his templates.

Warner Bros. had already decided to push this highly experimental film into their review phase. Once it went through the routine procedures, they fully intended to foot the bill for Duke.

A commercial corporation like Warner Bros. naturally didn't do charity. The explosive popularity of The Matrix had given them absolute confidence in Duke. After hearing that Duke had a smaller project slated before The Lord of the Rings trilogy, CEO Jeff Robinov visited Duke Manor three times in a row, strongly requesting that the project be handed over entirely to Warner Bros.

This was the inevitable result of endless consecutive successes. The aura surrounding Duke was in no way weaker than that of Spielberg or James Cameron. Even though the film was a small production based on true events, he had previously turned a musical like Chicago into a commercially viable hit, and Warner Bros. clearly believed that his work would continue to yield high returns.

Duke naturally wouldn't refuse having someone foot the bill for a project with an uncertain future.

However, both sides had merely reached a preliminary agreement. Everything would have to wait until the script was completed and had passed the Warner Bros. Review Committee's assessment before they could hash out the details.

While Duke was busy preparing for his new film, the summer season box office continued its near white-hot battle.

On the second weekend of June, Walt Disney's animated magnum opus Mulan, a project four years in the making, landed in the North American market, diving into the already chaotic slaughterfest. Disney Animation Studio had placed high hopes on this hand-drawn feature, praying it would reverse their slump of recent years.

However, Mulan clearly couldn't shoulder that heavy burden.

Although the animated film secured the North American box office crown for the weekend by pulling in $22.74 million across 2,888 theaters, a per-theater average of $7,876 could hardly be called an outstanding performance.

The decline of hand-drawn 2D animated films was simply inevitable.

Mission: Impossible grossed $21.62 million in its second weekend, taking the runner-up spot on the box office charts by only a narrow margin.

The Matrix, which had previously maintained a massive screen count, finally saw its first significant reduction in theaters. Dropping to 2,655 screens in North America this weekend, it pulled in $11.2 million over three days. Factoring in the box office from the previous four weekdays, its North American cumulative total reached $270.2 million, putting the $300 million milestone firmly within its sights.

By Monday, however, the film's screening scale shrank again, dropping below 2,500 theaters in North America. This was the inevitable reality every commercial film faced once the hype cooled, and even The Matrix could not escape it.

Overseas, The Matrix was also gradually cooling down, though its international box office had officially broken past the $200 million mark, pushing its global cumulative total to $470.55 million. Furthermore, starting this new week, the film was slated for a massive wide release across another major box office goldmine—numerous countries and regions in the Far East, including Japan, South Korea, Hong Kong, Taiwan, and the Philippines.

The international box office was expected to continue climbing, which would eventually propel The Matrix's global grosses past the staggering $500 million mark.