The next day.
The media reviews were out.
"It's a release, a transformation of energy—the film ignites you, leaving you dizzy in its dazzling spectacle." — The Washington Post
"This film incorporates many cutting-edge sci-fi elements of its time, such as virtual networks and machine civilizations, but its core theme revolves around a dystopian world ruled by machines. Its true contribution lies in its exploration of human-machine coexistence, reflections on absolute rationality, and the function of human nature. Rather than focusing on the technological aspects of hard sci-fi, it leans towards a more humanistic, soft sci-fi approach." — The New York Post
"A frenzied, futuristic thriller, the film showcases an extraordinary imagination while retaining the feel of classic sci-fi novels. Its groundbreaking visual techniques are simply beyond description." — Los Angeles Times
"As traditional sci-fi declines, the golden age of hard science fiction grows increasingly rare. Social issues are replacing scientific dilemmas as the core of many sci-fi works, with more avant-garde storytelling techniques being incorporated. The Matrix will undoubtedly be one of the defining films of this new wave." — The New York Times
Most of the reviews were overwhelmingly positive—after all, they had been paid for.
But—
"Martin has regressed. Throughout the entire film, he maintains only one expression—cold and emotionless. Perhaps it suits the character, but this character is one he created himself. The movie is nothing more than an explosion-filled spectacle whose sole purpose is to pump your adrenaline." — Roger Ebert, Chicago Sun-Times
CAA Office – Jeff Raymond's Desk
Martin put down the newspaper, frowned, and asked, "What's going on with Roger Ebert? Didn't we take care of him?"
Jeff Raymond frowned as well. "We did—he received our gifts. I didn't expect him to write that."
All the critics invited to the premiere had been handled by Meyers Studios. As long as the film wasn't a complete disaster, they were expected to give it favorable reviews.
But Roger Ebert, who had a strong reputation for integrity, had taken the gifts and still written a negative review. This infuriated Jeff.
Martin shook his head, pointed at Ebert's name in the newspaper, and said, "Blacklist him. We won't invite him to our premieres ever again."
"Should I at least give him a call? He has quite a bit of influence among moviegoers."
Martin chuckled. "Influence? Just wait for this week's box office numbers. The internet is taking over—critics like him are becoming irrelevant."
"Speaking of which, the midnight box office numbers should be out. Call and check."
"Got it."
A moment later, Jeff hung up the phone with an excited expression.
"Martin, the midnight box office hit $8.15 million! If I'm not mistaken, you've broken another record—the highest midnight gross for an R-rated film in North America!"
"Yes!" Martin raised his fist in a seemingly excited gesture, but internally, he was perfectly calm.
The original version had already been successful—his improved version was bound to do even better.
"Alright, I need to head out. Pirates of the Caribbean has been calling me non-stop."
"Oh, and go ahead and leak the news—I'm now Disney's largest individual shareholder. It'll help boost The Matrix's box office, too."
"Understood!"
On The Matrix's second day at the box office, a bombshell announcement dropped—
"Martin Meyers Becomes Disney's Largest Individual Shareholder!"
"Reports confirm that Martin Meyers has reached an equity transfer agreement with Disney. He has acquired 8.02% of Disney's shares for $1 billion, making him the company's largest individual shareholder…"
The news sent Disney's stock price soaring.
Inside his office, Michael Eisner leaned back in satisfaction and told his top aides, "This was the right move. Martin's involvement is already boosting stock prices—those idiots on the board should be pleased now."
He then turned to Reed Makas and instructed, "Reed, inform Steve Jobs that he can forget about getting any shares. We're offering Pixar $2 billion, take it or leave it—that's our final offer."
Then, turning to Robert Eisner, he asked, "Has Martin joined the Pirates set yet? Go check. If he's there, report back immediately—I need to finalize his voting rights agreement."
Meanwhile, over at Warner Bros., CEO Alan Horn was sweating bullets as he repeatedly dialed Martin's number, only to get no response.
Was Martin ignoring him on purpose?
Determined, he kept calling—until, finally, Martin picked up.
Alan took a deep breath, steadied his tone, and asked, "Martin, I just read the news. You've become a Disney shareholder—is that true?"
Martin's voice came through, calm and composed: "It's true."
Alan's mind spun in turmoil, but before he could speak, Martin chuckled and said—
"Alan, I know what you're worried about. Don't stress—my investment in Disney won't affect my collaboration with Warner Bros. It's just business."
Alan exhaled in relief. "And the Harry Potter sequels?"
"They're still Warner's. I won't breach my contract."
Martin's reassurance put Alan at ease.
But just as he started to relax, he heard another voice over the phone.
"Martin, Michael Eisner is here—he wants to speak with you personally."
"Oh? Alright."
Then, Martin told Alan, "Alan, I have something to take care of. We'll talk later."
"Alright, alright." Alan was about to hang up but added, "Martin, don't forget—we're friends."
Martin laughed heartily. "Of course. Warner was the only studio willing to meet my demands back then—I won't forget that."
After the call ended, Alan Horn still felt uneasy.
Then, a sudden thought struck him—
"If Disney can offer Martin shares… why can't Warner?"
Martin had just cashed out $4.2 billion—that money was going to be spent somewhere. Why not on Warner Bros. stock?
What Martin didn't know was that just as he secured shares in Disney, Warner Bros. was about to make him another offer.
And what Michael Eisner didn't realize was that by pushing Martin to sign the voting rights agreement, he had inadvertently helped Warner.
These two companies—Disney and Warner—were destined to become the world's first and second-largest entertainment giants, each worth trillions in market value.