In the dimly lit post-production room, the air buzzed with concentration. Martin stood in front of the screen, his eyes fixed on the rough cut of the Joker trailer. "Try lens 2-18 for this scene," he instructed, his voice sharp but calm, filled with the weight of creative decisions. Every frame mattered in this trailer; it had to land perfectly.
Joel Negron, the seasoned editor, was hunched over his equipment, his hands moving swiftly as he adjusted cuts and transitions. Martin continued, pacing behind him, "The shot only lasts three seconds. It needs to end right at the moment of chaos."
Joel nodded without breaking his focus, diving deeper into the madness of the Joker's world. Every snip of film and every tweak had to resonate with the unsettling energy that Martin wanted to deliver.
They were capitalizing on the stir caused by the backlash from 'Batman v Superman'. It had created a whirlwind of attention, and Martin knew they had to use that momentum to push 'Joker' into the spotlight. The advance ad they were working on was only 30 seconds long, but it had to capture the full essence of the Joker's descent into madness, something the fans would crave.
After a few more precise edits, Joel leaned back, observing the rhythm of the footage. "I think if we shave off another half a second, it'll hit even harder."
Martin, ever open to ideas, gave a quick nod. "Let's see how it plays."
The adjustment was made swiftly, and as the revised clip ran through, Martin's face broke into a satisfied grin. It was tight, impactful, just what they needed. "Perfect. Let's move forward with this cut."
The morning dragged on, with endless revisions and discussions. By noon, Martin could feel a dull throb in his head. He glanced at the clock, realizing he hadn't eaten, but the idea of food felt too heavy. His mind was running on fumes, and he needed a break to clear the fog.
He pulled out his phone and dialed Leonardo and Nicholson. They had a regular ritual, after long, grueling work sessions, they'd go wash their faces at a luxury spa. It was a quirky tradition, but it worked. The problem? Neither of them was in Los Angeles. He stared at his phone for a moment, contemplating his options.
Going solo didn't sound appealing, but skipping it would mean dragging through the rest of the day. His mind flicked through his mental Rolodex, who else could help him refresh and reset? Alexandra Daddario came to mind. She always had this way of bringing a breath of fresh air with her, and more importantly, she had this incredible face cleanser he swore by.
A quick call later, and half an hour after that, Martin and Alexandra found themselves walking into the top-floor suite at the Ritz-Carlton. Alexandra, always effortlessly poised, pulled out the miracle product. As the cool sensation of the cleanser worked its magic, Martin felt the tension in his head begin to dissolve. "This stuff," he murmured, "is a life-saver."
By the time he returned to the studio that afternoon, he was revitalized and ready to dive back into the work. The final touches on the Joker trailer were handed off to Joel, and Martin knew it was in good hands. He took one last look at the screen, satisfied with their progress, and glanced at the clock, it wasn't even 4 PM yet.
With the Joker trailer in the rearview, Martin headed next door to the 'Split' editing suite. The film, set for an October release, was in the final stages of post-production. David Fincher, fresh off 'House of Cards 2', had returned to oversee the final tweaks. As Martin stepped into the director's office, Fincher looked up from his notes.
"When do you think post-production will wrap up?" Martin asked, taking a seat.
"By early August, tops," Fincher replied, his eyes scanning over some edits. "The final touches are mostly on the fine editing and a few remaining special effects."
'Split' wasn't heavy on VFX, but it had its moments. Fincher paused, then added, "I've made sure to include shots that really highlight your performance. If this is the film you want to take for another Oscar run, we've got you covered. I kept the editing tight to meet the Academy's aesthetic."
Martin appreciated Fincher's attention to detail. "Thanks, David. I know you've had your eye on that since filming."
Fincher smirked slightly, but his tone stayed serious. "It comes at a cost, though. In pushing for those moments, the overall story might feel slightly dialed back."
Martin shrugged, confident in Fincher's craftsmanship. "With your skill, I'm not worried. The plot will still hold up."
Fincher chuckled softly, but with conviction. "I promise, this story will stand up with any of my other films."
Just then, Louise, a producer from Disney's distribution team, joined them, and they moved into a meeting room to discuss the film's release strategy. The conversation shifted to marketing, scheduling, and potential hurdles with the MPAA rating.
"There's no doubt it'll get an R rating," Louise noted as they sifted through the explicit scenes.
Martin knew this could limit their theater openings in North America, but he didn't mind. The strength of 'Split' and its dark themes would draw the right audience. The R rating was almost a badge of honor for the kind of film they had created.
As they wrapped up the meeting, Martin felt a surge of anticipation. With both 'Joker' and 'Split' nearing completion, the coming months were going to be big.
As part of the film's promotional campaign, they were heavily focusing on the main character's unique trait, his multiple personalities. It was the perfect hook to draw in audiences, playing on the intrigue surrounding mental disorders and the real-life case of Billy Milligan, the infamous figure with 24 personalities.
Billy had passed away the previous year, and the production team decided to honor his memory by organizing a memorial event. It was a strategic move as well; in Hollywood, the dead often played a pivotal role in generating buzz for films. The legacy of a real person connected to the story was powerful, especially when that person was as notorious as Milligan.
After the meeting wrapped, Martin and Louise made their way out of the studio. They walked casually toward the entrance, enjoying the warm breeze that cut through the Hollywood air. As they passed the Marvel Studios' 'Avengers' set, they noticed a crowd gathering near the door. The scene buzzed with the energy of spectators who clearly had something exciting to gawk at.
Curiosity piqued, Martin nudged Louise. "Let's see what's going on over there."
Across the road, a small electric vehicle sat at the curb, its driver waiting patiently. People were hauling equipment and boxes from the studio and loading them onto the car, all while whispers and murmurs spread through the crowd. Then, emerging from the studio doors, a familiar figure stormed out, Joss Whedon.
Martin recognized him instantly. The director of the first two 'Avengers' movies, Whedon's face was hard to miss, but today it was contorted in frustration. He barked orders at an assistant struggling with the boxes, his tone harsh and biting.
"What are you all staring at?" Whedon snapped at the onlookers, his eyes scanning the crowd. "Never seen someone move out before?"
The gathered group muttered, but no one moved. Whedon's temper was no secret in Hollywood. His explosive personality had earned him a reputation, but today, it seemed the public didn't care much for his fury. Word had spread that Disney had let him go.
"Used to be, he had people fawning over him," Martin mused, watching Whedon storm back into the studio.
Louise smirked, her voice cutting. "If 'Avengers: Age of Ultron' had been as big of a success as the first film, those people would still be lining up to kiss his feet. But losers? They don't get that luxury."
Martin raised an eyebrow, amused. "So, if I lost my touch, would you drop me like that?"
Louise adjusted her glasses, flashing him a mischievous smile. "If you ever stop being valuable, Kelly and I will have you locked up in that villa in Sherman Oaks. We'll turn you into a juicer, squeeze every last drop of you."
Martin chuckled, though there was a flicker of something more serious in his eyes. They both turned their attention back to Whedon, who was now boarding the small electric vehicle. His body language screamed defeat. For a moment, Martin felt a pang of sympathy.
"You know, both of the 'Avengers' films he directed were commercial successes," Martin remarked, thinking aloud.
Louise nodded but didn't hold back. "Sure, but the second film had the same problem as 'Batman v Superman', bad audience reception. Disney's worried about how it could affect Marvel's grand plan. Plus, Whedon isn't the same anymore. Success gave him clout, and now he's butting heads with Kevin Feige."
Martin turned to her, intrigued. "Conflict over what?"
"It's not a personal spat," Louise explained. "It's about creative control. Feige has a vision for the Marvel universe, and Whedon's ideas started to clash with that. When it's about vision, it's not something you can easily resolve. Creative differences can be a death sentence for someone like Whedon."
Martin nodded, deep in thought. "It's a shame. He's got talent. It's hard to watch him spiral like this."
Louise tilted her head, studying him. "Wait, are you thinking of giving him a project? Is this about that 'San Andreas' movie you've been developing?"
Martin laughed, shaking his head. "Oh, no, not at all. I'm no saint. Why would I risk hiring a director Disney just axed? His next project is more likely to flop. No thanks."
Louise raised an eyebrow, considering his point. "You're probably right. From what I hear, his arrogance has gotten out of control. It's not just about creative vision anymore, he's become impossible to work with. Word on the set of 'Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D.' is that he's driving the cast and crew mad. And it's not just about demanding better performances."
There was a pause as they walked, then Louise threw a sly glance at Martin. "You don't have the best relationship with Kevin Feige, though. Why would you care about what happens to Whedon?"
Martin grinned, his eyes twinkling with mischief. "Just because I don't get along with Feige doesn't mean I want to burn everything down. Whedon's talented, but let's be real, I'm not about to play the hero in his downfall."
Louise laughed, shaking her head. "You're such a double-standard dog."
Martin chuckled. "Guilty as charged."
As they reached the entrance of the studio, they shared one last glance back at the spectacle Whedon had unintentionally created. Hollywood was a cutthroat place, and even the brightest stars could dim if they lost their way. Martin knew that better than most, and he had no intention of letting his own star fade anytime soon.
Martin waved his hand dismissively, a sly grin forming on his lips. "This isn't about Kevin Feige. He's not even part of the equation. I'm thinking of recommending Joss Whedon for something that might suit him better... though it's going to take some finesse. And that's where you come in."
Louise raised an eyebrow, intrigued. Martin had that glint in his eye, the one that meant he was already ten steps ahead, crafting some intricate plan. She crossed her arms, leaning in slightly. "Oh? And what's the plan, exactly?"
Martin chuckled. "It's not complicated. We need to get Whedon in front of Warner Bros., specifically their DC team, without it looking like we're involved. Let's just say... it would be a little 'gift' from us to them."
Louise's eyes lit up. Warner Bros. had recently stirred her anger when DC's executives, led by Hamada, attacked the 'Joker' project, a film she'd invested in and helped produce. She'd been furious, with no outlet for her frustration. But now, Martin was handing her a perfect opportunity.
"Martin, you know as well as I do, DC isn't looking to replace Zack Snyder on 'Justice League' at least not yet," she said, though her curiosity was piqued.
"Warner Bros. always finds a way to surprise us," Martin said with a knowing smirk. "And as for Snyder..." He paused, searching for the right words. "Let's just say, he's got his own baggage. But think about it: Whedon, despite his current situation, directed two successful 'Avengers' movies. That's leverage. He's a name they'd be foolish to ignore."
Louise laughed softly. "You've got a point. With a little nudge, I can get someone like Whedon on their radar. It won't be hard."
Martin nodded, satisfied. "Good. Now, here's the next part. The reputation of 'Batman v Superman' is still in freefall, and we can push that narrative even further. I'll have some of my people write articles criticizing Snyder's dark, brooding style, making it clear that it's a problem for the superhero market."
Louise immediately caught on. "You want to make Warner Bros. believe that Snyder's approach is the problem, that it's not resonating with the audience."
Martin snapped his fingers. "Exactly. And you, my dear, always understand me best."
As they stood there, the electric vehicle carrying Joss Whedon rolled out of Disney's studio lot, fading into the distance. Louise hooked her arm through Martin's as they strolled away, a shared understanding between them.
"You know," Martin sighed with mock sincerity, "I really do love Warner Bros. and DC. I've publicly feuded with them, yet here I am, helping them find a better director for 'Justice League'."
Louise chuckled, sensing the sarcasm dripping from his words. "Too bad the Warner execs are a bunch of ungrateful idiots. They'll never appreciate this."
Martin nodded, his smile fading into something more reflective. Warner Bros. had a habit of biting the hand that fed them, and this was no exception. But he wasn't doing this out of kindness, he was playing a longer game, one they wouldn't see coming.
Meanwhile, the bad press around 'Batman v Superman' was relentless, and Martin didn't even have to lift a finger. The film had proved that catering solely to diehard comic fans wasn't enough to support a blockbuster of that scale. No matter how much Snyder's loyalists tried to salvage the movie's ratings, its IMDb score had dropped below 6 and showed no signs of improving.
"Even when Snyder releases his extended cut, it might bump the score a bit," Martin mused aloud, "but right now, that film's reputation is in the gutter."
Louise was all too aware. "And with that drop, their box office forecast for North America has dipped from $260 million to $250 million."
"Exactly," Martin said. "It's still making money, but not the kind of money they were banking on."
With perfect timing, Disney released the first teaser for 'Joker' amidst the chaos. It was only 30 seconds long, but the reaction was immediate and powerful. Riding on the negativity surrounding 'Batman v Superman', the 'Joker' teaser was met with overwhelming praise.
Online, fans raved:
"Look at the Joker, this is how a DC movie should be done."
"The real vision for DC isn't with the execs, it's with Martin!"
"A dark style isn't just about making the screen look gloomy. Joker gets it right. Now 'this' is how you make a dark superhero movie!"
Amid the spontaneous fan reactions, there were also a few strategically placed articles, designed to fuel the fire. One headline read:
"It's obvious Zack Snyder isn't right for DC. Either embrace a truly dark tone, or follow Marvel's lead with fun, lighthearted action. DC can't sit on the fence any longer."
Louise shook her head, impressed. "You really know how to push all the right buttons, don't you?"
Martin grinned, his tone playful but sharp. "That's the thing about Hollywood. It's not just about making movies, it's about controlling the narrative. And right now, we're in the driver's seat."
Inside the towering Warner Building, Kevin Tsujihara sat in his plush, leather chair, his expression grim enough to darken the entire room. He had faced countless challenges during his tenure, but the harsh audience reception of 'Batman v Superman' gnawed at him like never before. His frustration was palpable, filling the office with a tense, almost suffocating atmosphere.
Leaning forward, he glared across his desk at Hamada, who stood uncomfortably. "The overseas box office, how is it performing?" Tsujihara asked, though his tone suggested he already knew the answer wasn't going to lift his mood.
Hamada cleared his throat. "The box office is decent. In fact, the international numbers have surpassed North America's."
Tsujihara's eyes narrowed, his voice cool and measured. "And what about the film's 'reputation'?"
Hamada hesitated. The truth was unavoidable, but delivering it to the chairman felt like navigating a minefield. "The reception overseas," he started cautiously, "is even worse than in North America. But!" he quickly added, trying to salvage the situation, "with this film, audiences are at least starting to recognize DC's heroes. This awareness will carry over to future films—"
Tsujihara raised a hand, cutting Hamada off. "Don't you see the problem yet? Most moviegoers don't care about the comics. They just want a film they can enjoy without having to study up beforehand. Is going to the movies supposed to be a relaxing night out, or an assignment?"
Hamada tried to mask his growing unease. "Chairman, despite everything, the box office is solid. We have a large audience, and—"
Tsujihara cut him off again, this time more bluntly. "Can we replace Zack Snyder as the director?"
The question hit like a punch to the gut. Hamada's face paled. "But… the preparations for 'Justice League' are nearly complete. We've already invested hundreds of millions. Changing directors now would be a financial disaster."
He gathered his courage and pressed on. "Zack Snyder still has a dedicated fanbase. Sure, his style has its issues, but with some intervention, we could guide him to adjust it. If we manage this right, it could work."
Tsujihara leaned back, silent for a long moment, considering the options. Firing Snyder now could lead to chaos, but letting him continue unchecked could be equally dangerous. After a tense pause, he finally spoke. "Fine. We won't replace him, but assign another producer alongside Charles Roven. Someone who will be responsible for overseeing the film's tone. Snyder's dark and serious approach hasn't resonated, and 'Justice League' must avoid the same mistakes."
Hamada nodded, feeling a small measure of relief. "I'll personally assign someone and make sure they monitor Snyder's work closely."
For the next hour, they dissected every angle of the project. Despite the critical beating 'Batman v Superman' was taking, the box office ensured it would still turn a profit, albeit not the astronomical numbers they had once hoped for. There was some solace in that.
When the meeting finally concluded, Hamada left the chairman's office and hurried back to DC's side of the studio lot. Once settled at his desk, he flipped through a stack of documents before allowing himself a break. Picking up the latest edition of 'The Hollywood Reporter', he scanned the front page.
It was bleak. Aside from the box office numbers, everything related to 'Batman v Superman' was disastrous. The reviews were savage. Fan disappointment was rampant. Hamada leaned back in his chair, puzzled. Why had the dark, gritty tone worked so well for 'The Dark Knight', but fallen flat with this film? Was the market truly rejecting the dark and serious approach?
'No.' Hamada immediately dismissed the thought. He had seen something that refuted it entirely, Martin Davis' upcoming film, 'Joker'. That film was just as dark, if not darker, and yet the buzz around it was overwhelmingly positive. People couldn't stop talking about it.
Martin Davis, Hamada cursed under his breath, had an uncanny knack for understanding the market. He had managed to capture the darkness, but with a twist: 'Joker' wasn't just dark, it was mad. And that madness, Hamada realized, cut through the gloom, making the tone feel more energetic and less oppressive.
Intrigued, Hamada turned to his laptop and pulled up the homepage of TMZ. Right at the top was the latest teaser for 'Joker' a brief, 30-second clip that had the internet buzzing. As he watched it, he understood why. The film was twisted, chaotic, and unpredictable. It didn't wallow in darkness; it thrived in it.
Just below the teaser was another headline that caught his attention: 'Joss Whedon Parts Ways with Marvel'.
Hamada's mind snapped back to attention. Joss Whedon, the man who had crafted the monumental success of 'The Avengers' was now a free agent. He had brought together a mismatched team of superheroes and turned them into a global phenomenon. That kind of talent didn't just vanish.
Hamada sat up straighter, a new plan beginning to form in his mind. Whether by coincidence or providence, Whedon's name lingered in his thoughts. He could be the answer they were looking for. If 'Justice League' needed a shift in tone, who better to step in and provide that balance between seriousness and levity than Whedon? He had done it before, and he could do it again.
As he stared at Whedon's name, it became clear. This was no ordinary director, they needed him, even if they didn't know it yet.
Hamada's eyes narrowed, his mind racing. He knew what he had to do.