Chapter 813: The Civil War Between Marvel Executives

The scenes in New York Central Park were the crew's final shoot, and the only shots Duke filmed in New York for the entire production. The scene itself wasn't complicated—the Avengers sending off Thor and Loki before going their separate ways—but the crew ran into massive trouble during filming.

Since the day the project was greenlit, Warner Brothers and Marvel Pictures had been running a planned promotional campaign, keeping The Avengers at the center of media and fan attention.

Things had been fine when the crew was shooting at Warner Studios and the Hughes Aircraft Plant, but their appearance in New York Central Park instantly drew a massive crowd.

When Duke and the seven lead actors showed up at a small plaza in the park, thousands of reporters and tourists swarmed the area. The reporters were manageable enough, tacitly agreeing not to disrupt the shoot. But the tourists from around the world couldn't care less. They crowded the perimeter, chattering endlessly and snapping photos, making it impossible for Duke to film normally.

"What should we do?" an assistant director asked.

Duke simply sat back down in his director's chair. "We wait," he said. "Human curiosity has its limits. Once they've seen enough, they'll naturally disperse."

Aside from waiting, the crew's promotional department was also taking pictures. This was all excellent marketing material.

While waiting around in boredom, Duke also accepted an interview with a reporter from the New York Times.

"How should I put it?" In response to the reporter's question, Duke pointed toward the seven actors. "With this many superheroes present, the film will average about one fight scene every ten minutes. But I'm also well aware that if a movie only has action and lacks a solid plot, it isn't a good film. There are countless examples over the years of terrible movies that prioritized spectacle over story, so the narrative strength of this film is beyond doubt."

Duke didn't say much else. Seeing Scarlett walk over, he had his assistant escort the reporter off the set.

Scarlett Johansson stood out among the actors. Dressed in a camel leather jacket and jeans, she looked incredibly sharp.

"Still can't shoot?" she asked, handing Duke a bottle of water.

Duke took it, unscrewed the cap, and took a sip as he looked around. Thanks to the heavy security presence, it was indeed a bit quieter than before.

"Let's wait a little longer," he said.

Scarlett took the water bottle back from him and asked with concern, "What happened on the way here? Why were you so angry?"

In the car on the way over, she had seen Duke take a phone call. Although he hadn't said anything, given how well they knew each other, Scarlett could easily tell he was furious.

"Internal Marvel business." Duke gave her a reassuring look. "I'll head over and deal with it after the shoot."

Like any other commercial enterprise, the management of Marvel Comics—where Duke had already gained a controlling stake—was rife with personnel struggles.

Duke had known about this all along, but he hadn't paid it much mind. Every company had internal conflicts. Appropriate infighting was just a process of survival of the fittest. As long as it remained within certain limits, he, as the controlling shareholder, wasn't going to interfere.

But the current power struggle had spilled beyond those limits. If not handled properly, it was very likely to impact the future development of both Marvel Comics and Marvel Pictures.

On the way to the set, Duke had received a notice from Tina Fey: Marvel Pictures CEO Kevin Feige had officially submitted his resignation to the Marvel board of directors!

In this business, no one was indispensable, and Kevin Feige was no exception for Marvel Pictures. But his abilities were outstanding. He understood Marvel's comics and was a brilliant film producer. Unless absolutely necessary, Duke did not want to see him leave Marvel Pictures.

In truth, knowing the internal strife at Marvel Comics, Duke understood full well that Kevin Feige didn't necessarily want to resign. Rather, he was applying pressure to the Marvel board to strike at his enemies within the company: the Marvel Creative Committee.

Half an hour later, thanks to the efforts of the security team, the plaza finally quieted down, and Duke began rolling the cameras. The scenes here were relatively simple, taking only the morning to complete.

With that, all filming for The Avengers came to an end.

Right after the shoot wrapped, Duke inhaled a quick hamburger, handed the crew over to Anna Printz, and hopped in a car headed for Marvel Comics headquarters in Manhattan. Kevin Feige was currently there as well. Tina Fey had gone ahead to convene the Marvel Comics executives in Duke's stead to discuss the matter.

Actually, when Tina Fey called earlier, she had also given Duke a piece of good news. After a lawsuit lasting several months, a Los Angeles court had dismissed the appeal from Jack Kirby's heirs, ruling that the Marvel Company legally owned the copyrights to The Amazing Spider-Man, The Avengers, and numerous other comic properties.

This cleared the final obstacle for the theatrical release of The Avengers.

Although Jack Kirby's heirs and their lawyers hadn't given up—vowing to appeal again and fight to the bitter end—anyone with a discerning eye could tell it was just empty bluster.

Upon arriving at Marvel Comics headquarters, Duke first met with Kevin Feige before entering discussions with the Marvel executives.

Ever since acquiring forty percent of Marvel Comics' shares, Duke had never abandoned his plan for a controlling stake. After nearly ten years of effort, his voting shares in Marvel Comics had surpassed fifty percent. The company had long since effectively taken the name Rosenberg.

If Duke wanted to, he could fire most of Marvel's staff with barely a second thought, but he never did. Marvel Comics was a modern enterprise with a robust set of rules and regulations, not a personal plaything.

Kevin Feige and the Marvel Creative Committee had a long-standing grudge, and the conflict between them was exceptionally sharp.

The Marvel Creative Committee was led by Ike Perlmutter, the head of Marvel Entertainment. Marvel Entertainment originally comprised three divisions: Marvel Games, Marvel Pictures, and Marvel Television. Thus, Perlmutter was technically Kevin Feige's direct superior.

The other members of the Creative Committee included Marvel Entertainment chairman Alan Fine, famous comic author Brian Michael Bendis, Marvel publisher Dan Buckley, and former Marvel editor-in-chief and current chief creative officer Joe Quesada.

They were key figures in Marvel's management. Within the Marvel film creative team, they were responsible for providing the primary concepts and outlines. In other words, they held a certain degree of decision-making power over the scripts.

The Creative Committee was deeply involved in the creation of Marvel films, which sometimes delayed production by dragging crews into pointless debates over scientific details. There had even been incidents where directors walked off projects because they clashed with the committee.

As the true leader of Marvel Pictures, Kevin Feige had made massive contributions to the development of the entire Marvel Series franchise, and not without some risky decisions along the way.

In contrast, Ike Perlmutter of Marvel Entertainment was a textbook conservative. He had always been famous for being stingy and old-fashioned. He was constantly scheming to control the budget of every film. To limit the superhero films under Twentieth Century Fox, Perlmutter had even decided to axe the Fantastic Four comics entirely, and he forbade comic creators from introducing any new X-Men characters.

Ike Perlmutter had become an unwelcome figure both inside and outside of Marvel. The Creative Committee, standing in the same trenches as him, naturally garnered no goodwill from anyone else either.

However, this Creative Committee actually had Duke's support.

No actual company owner would ever grant unlimited power to a professional manager. The grievances and grudges between Michael Eisner and the Walt Disney family were the perfect cautionary tale.

Duke trusted Kevin Feige, but all power required checks and balances. Absolute power without oversight was undeniably a tiger let out of its cage—it would hurt outsiders, but more than that, it would eventually hurt itself.

Having experienced a past life, Duke knew very well that power had to be supervised and restricted. He couldn't possibly let Kevin Feige police himself.

The Creative Committee existed in the first place precisely to check the power of certain corporate executives.

Then again, having a certain degree of infighting within Marvel wasn't exactly something Duke was opposed to seeing. No boss wanted their company's management to be a monolithic block.

In fact, Marvel's comics and film branches had always been locked in a tug-of-war. It wasn't just because of the impact this Creative Committee—made up of comic veterans—had on the films, but also because Marvel's movies often left the comic writers caught between laughter and tears. To accommodate certain plot designs for film and television, Marvel Pictures would meddle with the comics, demanding specific story elements. This frequently shattered the continuity and consistency of the comics themselves.

Marvel's "civil war" rivaled a palace intrigue drama. If Perlmutter was an iron-fisted wolf, then Kevin Feige was absolutely not a helpless, bullied little white rabbit.

Kevin Feige's intent was crystal clear: he wanted to pressure the Marvel board and Duke into dissolving the Creative Committee.

One had to admit, whether from a production pipeline standpoint or a market perspective, Kevin Feige definitely understood movies better than Ike Perlmutter.

Moreover, without the Creative Committee, film production cycles would likely shorten. From a commercial standpoint, that certainly wasn't a bad thing.

But Duke had never planned to do any such thing.

The Marvel Cinematic Universe was built on the foundation of worlds forged by the comics over a long history, leaning on their accumulated popularity. As the group that understood comics best, the Creative Committee was far more capable of grasping the needs of Marvel films' core loyal audience.

Their ability to sift through a vast ocean of comics to find the most suitable plotlines for reference and adaptation couldn't be ignored. These Creative Committee members, who had immersed themselves in the comic industry for decades, contributed immensely in this regard.

Most importantly, the Creative Committee served as a check on the power of company helmsmen like Kevin Feige.

True, the Creative Committee couldn't actually do much when it came to a film's quality, marketing, or distribution, but they were Duke's other hand in controlling all of Marvel. There was absolutely no way he would chop off his own arm.