416-420

Chapter 416: Taking a Stand with Authority! 

This was the first major release slot after the "9/11 incident," and the competition was fierce—rivaling even the summer blockbuster season. 

Although A Beautiful Mind was directed by Dunn, it’s a slow-paced drama, and despite the golden reputation of "Dunn Walker," it struggled to win the full confidence of theater chains. 

The film opened in just 1,226 theaters, with more screenings and larger releases handed to commercial hits like Silent Trigger, Zoolander, and Hearts in Atlantis. 

Still, A Beautiful Mind had a killer tagline: "Heal your wounded heart!"  

In this unique time, the movie’s box office was bound to see a breakthrough. 

Even if short-term ticket sales weren’t stellar, it wouldn’t matter much. Unlike commercial films, dramas have a long-tail release strategy. They might not crack the top 3 or 5 on the weekly box office charts, but stretch the timeline out—especially come awards season—and their earning power shines through. 

A Beautiful Mind is a commercial film dressed up as a drama, tugging at the heartstrings of moviegoers everywhere. High box office numbers were only natural. 

Especially in this particular moment. 

It was Saturday morning, and after waking up and hitting the gym for a quick half-hour workout, Dunn walked in to find Penelope Cruz and Charlize Theron curled up on the sofa, legs tucked under, reading the newspaper with amused interest. 

Dunn couldn’t help but chuckle. "Up this early? Guess my stamina last night wasn’t quite up to par." 

That earned him playful eye-rolls from both beauties. 

"Everyone’s raving about A Beautiful Mind—it’s all glowing reviews! Want to hear?" Charlize Theron waved the newspaper at him. 

Dunn waved it off. "Expected! I’ve got a call to make to the head of New Line Cinema." 

Charlize frowned, puzzled. "It’s the weekend—still working?" 

Dunn stretched lazily. "All for you, you know." 

"For me?" Charlize looked even more confused. 

Of course, it was about Brett Ratner! 

Once Dunn decided to take that guy down, there was no way he’d stop halfway! 

His blacklist was long, filled with big names—none of whom he could topple overnight. In the short term, Jerry Bruckheimer was the most likely target. 

But then Brett Ratner popped up out of nowhere, begging to be the first to feel Dunn’s wrath! 

Dunn’s internal ban on Ratner? Most studios would go along with it. They didn’t know the guy well anyway—easy to ride the wave. 

New Line Cinema, though, was a different story. Ratner had been one of their directors, a young talent they’d groomed themselves. The Rush Hour series had raked in serious cash. 

Bob Shaye, who ran New Line, had secured independent operating rights from Warner Bros, but that hinged on delivering results. Rush Hour was tied to his job security. 

"Dunn, this thing with Brett—it’s probably just a misunderstanding, right? I know him; he’s got a real passion for work and some serious movie-making talent. If he’s stepped out of line somewhere, just say it. I’ll make him apologize to you," Bob Shaye said over the phone, his tone half-hearted. 

Dunn smirked to himself. He’d been freezing Ratner out of Hollywood for days now, and word had spread internally. Bob, as New Line’s president, would’ve been on it from the jump—talking to Ratner right away. 

Now, with Dunn personally calling, Bob was still playing dumb? Clearly, he wasn’t planning to give Dunn any respect. 

"Bob," Dunn said coolly, "whether it’s a misunderstanding or not, we both know the score. No point pretending otherwise. I might be young, but one thing I won’t tolerate is someone stepping on my face!" 

Bob’s expression darkened. This Dunn—he was too domineering, too unreasonable! 

In Hollywood, how many faces had Dunn stepped on? Ratner just ran his mouth a little, and Dunn was ready to bury him for it? That’s harsh. 

Bob paused, then sighed. "Dunn, how about this? I’ll play middleman. He’ll apologize, give you assurances. From now on, I’ll make sure he doesn’t even think about crossing you or your people." 

"Apologize? Too late for that," Dunn replied, his voice calm but sharp. "Call it arrogance if you want, but I’ve got some clout in Hollywood. A nobody director like him wants to challenge me? That kind of bad vibe needs to be crushed hard. Even if it’s just to set an example, I’m laying down a standard—a rule—for all the newbies coming up in Hollywood!" 

Bob sucked in a breath. Dunn was dead serious about making Ratner the fall guy. 

But that clearly didn’t align with New Line’s interests. 

"Brett’s a contracted producer at New Line, a talented director," Bob said, his tone softening, almost pleading. "Dunn, you’re a big name in Hollywood—you know what a gifted director means to this industry. I’m asking you, for the sake of Hollywood’s brand value, give him a chance." 

Dunn shot it down flat. "Not happening, Bob. You know the situation. I’ve already looped in Legendary Pictures and talked to plenty of Hollywood heavyweights. If I let him off now, I’d be slapping myself in the face!" 

Bob was starting to get heated. He was an industry veteran, the guy who’d built New Line from the ground up. Most folks in the business treated him with courtesy, gave him some respect. 

Running an independent studio in Hollywood’s cutthroat, oligarch-controlled world was no small feat—even if Warner eventually bought them out, it was still a win worth recognizing. 

In this call, he’d already bent over backwards, played nice, but Dunn wasn’t budging. His tone was firm, unwavering—no room for debate! 

He wasn’t giving Bob any face at all! 

Bob couldn’t hold back. "Even if New Line fires him, it’d just be handing him to someone else. Disney’s not afraid of you!" 

Dunn burst out laughing, though the sound grew colder by the second. "Bob, you mocking me now?" 

"I’m just stating a fact," Bob replied. 

"Fact or jab, doesn’t matter," Dunn said icily. "Right now, I just need New Line’s stance. That punk Ratner—what are you planning to do with him?" 

Bob went quiet for a long stretch before saying slowly, "Brett’s under contract with New Line. He’s an exec in the production department." 

Dunn didn’t explode like Bob might’ve expected. His face stayed calm, his voice steady. "Oh, well then, guess we’ll each do what we’ve gotta do." 

Charlize Theron strutted in wearing a shimmering silver-gray bodycon dress, a jacket draped over her shoulders, and oversized black sunglasses—charm and coolness rolled into one. 

She walked arm-in-arm with Dunn into an elite club beneath the Hollywood Hotel. 

This place was a regular haunt for Hollywood stars and wealthy bigwigs to mingle and network, with top-notch security and privacy measures. 

So Charlize had no qualms about linking arms with Dunn openly. 

Still, she was a little tense, a little uneasy. 

"Dunn, is all this really necessary?" 

Even Charlize, the one caught in the middle, thought Dunn was taking it too far. 

Sure, Brett Ratner had said some crude stuff to her face that day, but he hadn’t laid a hand on her. She’d vented to Dunn just to get him to back her up, give her some leverage. 

So the next time she saw Ratner, she could hold her head high. 

She never expected Dunn to go full scorched-earth! 

He was set on wiping Brett Ratner out of Hollywood completely! 

To Charlize, it felt like overkill. 

Yeah, Ratner had said, "I’d love a taste of Dunn’s woman," but guys, when their egos flare up, tend to blurt out dumb, reckless stuff in the heat of the moment. 

Dunn coming down this hard, no mercy—it was ruthless. 

But what did she, a woman, know about Dunn’s bigger picture, his ambitions? 

Sumner Redstone from Viacom had stepped on Dunn’s face with that Six Feet Under mess. Brian Roberts from Comcast had quietly tripped him up in the TV network game too. 

Those guys were media titans, heads of giant corporations. Dunn had to grit his teeth and take it. 

But Brett Ratner? Some second- or third-tier rookie director daring to step on Dunn’s face? That was like swallowing a leopard’s worth of guts! 

Sumner Redstone? Out of reach. Brian Roberts? Tough nut to crack. But a lowlife director like Ratner? If Dunn let that slide, where would he put his pride? 

Use it as a doormat? 

Hilarious! 

The Comcast stuff wasn’t widely known in Hollywood yet, but Six Feet Under was airing hot on TV—a fact no one could deny. 

Dunn’s company and Viacom both kept it low-key, but anyone paying attention could see it: Redstone had Dunn in check! 

If Dunn didn’t show some teeth now—some grit, some dominance—to clean up Hollywood’s act, who knows how many clowns and creeps would start stirring trouble? 

This time, Dunn was using Brett Ratner to make a point and flex his authority! 

He could bow to Redstone, but that didn’t mean the rest of you got to laugh! 

Especially not a small fry like Ratner! 

"Back in the day, this would’ve been an insult to the emperor. I’d charge him with gross disrespect and have him beheaded at noon—totally justified!" 

Dunn didn’t care if Charlize got the reference. He wrapped an arm around her and headed to their reserved private room. 

Inside, the vibe was classy and fresh—complete with a fake rock feature and a mini waterfall, colorful tropical fish swimming around. 

Two people were already there, eagerly standing to greet them. 

One was Kent Richards, production assistant on the Rush Hour series. The other was David Anthony, the casting director for the franchise. 

Chapter 417: The Jerk Who Bullies Extras 

“No need to be polite, everyone, take a seat.” 

Dunn waved his hand casually before pulling out a chair for Charlize Theron in a gentlemanly manner. 

Once Dunn and Charlize were seated, Kent Richards and David Anthony sat down respectfully. 

They were part of the Rush Hour series crew but not key creative members, so they didn’t have much stake in the franchise’s profits. 

By comparison, Dunn’s invitation aligned far better with their career goals! 

Even if it meant working as a production assistant or casting director, being under Dunn’s wing was undeniably a step up from sticking with New Line Cinema. 

“You guys get what I mean, right?” 

After sitting down, Dunn first ordered a juice for Charlize Theron, then took charge of the conversation with a straightforward tone. 

Kent Richards ventured cautiously, “Is this about… Director Ratner?” 

Dunn smiled lightly and said calmly, “I think his presence seriously tarnishes Hollywood’s image. Don’t you agree?” 

“Tarnishes Hollywood’s image?” 

Kent and David exchanged a quick glance, instantly picking up on Dunn’s implication. 

In this industry—especially in roles like production assistant or casting director—you couldn’t survive without sharp instincts. 

David Anthony jumped in, “Absolutely, Mr. Walker, I agree with you 100%! Back when we were shooting Rush Hour 1, Ratner was still okay. He was a newbie then—serious and careful. But by Rush Hour 2, his ego had ballooned, and the jerk side of him came out full force.” 

Just then, a waiter brought over a coffee and a juice. Dunn took a slow sip before saying, “Tell me the details.” 

David hesitated, “Things in the crew back then… they were messy. I don’t remember everything clearly, but I do recall at least three female extras complaining to me. They said Ratner used his position to pressure them into ‘dates.’” 

Charlize Theron’s expression darkened. It seemed this Brett Ratner had quite the track record! 

Bullying struggling actresses at the bottom chasing their dreams was far worse than messing with established stars! 

With A-listers, the unspoken deals were often mutual—both sides got something out of it, backed by contracts. But with female extras? That was pure exploitation, completely unequal! 

Charlize hadn’t worked as an extra in Hollywood herself, but she’d been in the modeling world, where plenty of her peers had faced similar horrors. 

So many girls with dreams stepped into film crews, sleeping with casting directors, assistant directors, production assistants, associate producers—you name it—only to find out after the movie wrapped that they’d been conned. Their scenes? Cut entirely! 

That’s the reality for extras. 

Usually, it’s the mid-to-low-level crew members preying on these dreamers with no connections. But Brett Ratner, the director of Rush Hour, using his authority to target the bottom rung? That level of shamelessness was beyond comprehension! 

Dunn, though, stayed calm. 

Entertainment industries worldwide were the same. Unequal supply and demand inevitably led to unequal trades. 

Female stars who clawed their way up from being extras? It wasn’t just most of them—it was all of them. Every single one had a gritty, ugly backstory. Inspirational, sure, but also brutal. 

“Can you track them down?” 

Dunn was intrigued by this info. 

In Hollywood, big-name directors playing the casting couch game with actresses was an open secret. Both sides kept it hush-hush to protect their reps. 

But abusing power to pressure extras? That was a different beast. 

Extras were mostly outsiders—they didn’t care about Hollywood’s polished facade. If this blew up, it could deal a serious blow to the industry’s image. That’s why most big directors and producers preferred the hassle of dealing with established actors over targeting the powerless. 

Brett Ratner’s reckless behavior had clearly broken Hollywood’s unwritten rules. 

David thought for a moment. “I should be able to! I’ll check the lists when I get back and reach out to them.” 

“Good. I want detailed records—written statements confirmed by them!” Dunn paused, then added, “Be upfront with them. Tell them not to be afraid. Say I, Dunn, am stepping in to fight for them, to take Ratner down, and I need their help!” 

“Got it,” David nodded firmly. 

Dunn gave a soft “mm,” then turned to Kent Richards. “What about you? As a production assistant, you handle the actors’ daily needs and communication. You must’ve heard some things too, right?” 

Kent lowered his head, his voice heavy. “If I’m remembering right, at least five female extras complained to me about Ratner’s inappropriate behavior.” 

“Oh? Do you remember who?” 

“There was one Japanese actress, Eri Sasaki. She was shooting a scene in a really revealing outfit—her upper stomach was exposed. While waiting to start, Ratner walked up to her, pointed at her stomach, and asked if she’d join him in the bathroom. She said no. For days after that, he kept pushing, saying he could make her a star, even promising her a line. She vented to me about it for days, so it stuck with me.” 

Kent paused, then continued, “There was another extra, Georgina King. I remember her because she’s since started her own extras agency and become a boss. Back then, Ratner singled her out from a group of female extras, saying he wanted to discuss her lines. But once she got to his trailer, he told her to take her top off so he could see her chest. She refused, and the next day, she was fired.” 

“That bastard!” 

Charlize Theron couldn’t hold back anymore, muttering a curse under her breath. 

Kent shrugged. “He thinks he’s entitled to it. To him, it’s just how things work—like it’s part of the job.” 

Dunn waved a hand. “Alright, that’s enough. These stories are solid… I mean, they carry weight. Remember, I want written statements—testimonies from the victims themselves.” 

Kent jumped in, “Mr. Walker, don’t worry. Give me three days, and I’ll dig into this and get you a detailed report.” 

“Great.” Dunn patted Charlize’s thigh under the table, smiling at the two across from him. “Handle this well, and I can offer you both jobs at Dunn Films. You’d get a shot at working on big projects like Spider-Man.” 

Kent and David lit up with excitement. 

Wasn’t this exactly why they’d taken Dunn’s meeting? 

In Hollywood, everyone knew Dunn Films was a haven for underdogs. Tons of the company’s founding team came from the bottom—guys like Andrew O’Hare and Glenn Fiero, now execs at Dunn Films. 

Dunn was at the peak of his game right now. 

Actresses, actors, grassroots workers, pros—anyone who latched onto Dunn’s coattails had a foothold in Hollywood. 

… 

“Just thinking about Ratner’s disgusting face makes me want to puke!” 

As a woman, Charlize was clearly furious about Brett Ratner’s actions. 

Dunn rubbed his nose, a bit awkward. “Uh… that’s not a dig at me, right?” 

“Huh?” Charlize blinked, then burst out laughing, giving him a playful glare. “You’re you, he’s him—how’s that the same? You’ve launched so many actresses’ careers; that’s your cred. Ratner? He’s a straight-up jerk, liar, and creep!” 

Dunn grinned. “Alright, thanks for the compliment.” 

Charlize shook her head. “It’s not a compliment—it’s the truth. Harvey Weinstein’s a hundred times worse than Ratner, but actresses still work with him. Why? They want to be stars. It takes two to tango. I’d bet every actress in Hollywood dreams of climbing into your bed.” 

Dunn laughed, half-amused, half-exasperated. “Okay, let’s not compare me to them. I’m a feminist! I’m actively pushing for women’s rights and progress. This year alone, I’ve put out Juno, Resident Evil, The Hours, and Chicago—four female-driven films. And Gone Girl is in the works too—another feminist project.” 

“Gone Girl?” Charlize’s eyes sparkled. “It’s being made into a movie? Dunn, you know I’m out of gigs right now. My agent just pulled me from Red Dragon.” 

Dunn looked at her steadily. “You want the lead?” 

“Why not?” 

“You’re too young. Gone Girl needs a more mature actress.” 

In comparison, Dunn had his eye on Nicole Kidman. Her acting chops and age put her in the prime of her career. 

Plus, she’d been through a rocky marriage she’d fought to hold together—a perfect fit for the lead in Gone Girl. 

Charlize’s face fell, and she muttered, “Looks like old flames still matter more.” 

Dunn chuckled and shook his head. “Come on, if the right chance comes up, I’ll call you. But Gone Girl? It’s not your fit.” 

Casting Nicole Kidman as Gone Girl’s lead had another layer too. 

Last year, Dunn had planned to direct Chicago himself, with Mel Gibson and Nicole Kidman as the leads. 

But things shifted, and he ended up doing A Beautiful Mind instead. 

Mel Gibson needed to break out of his tough-guy mold. Maybe Gone Girl could be his shot… 

Chapter 418: Unexpected, Yet Reasonable 

The third episode of Band of Brothers had just aired, and viewership was picking up compared to last weekend. The average audience climbed to 11.09 million—still a far cry from the premiere’s glory days, but a step in the right direction. 

Thankfully, it’d been over two weeks since the "9/11 incident." According to Comcast’s projections, starting this week, the TA network’s buzz should start heating back up. 

Dunn had also gotten his hands on the box office numbers for A Beautiful Mind. The results? Expected, yet surprising! 

The "expected" part was the film pulling in $27 million over its opening weekend. With the "Dunn Walker" brand and the tagline "Heal your wounded heart," that kind of haul made sense. 

The surprise? It snagged the top spot on last week’s box office chart! 

Even more shocking, the runner-up was Never Sinking, a film that’d been out for over four months, raking in $24.76 million. Sure, a big chunk of that came from Dunn Pictures’ donations, but numbers are numbers. 

Never Sinking officially crossed the $1 billion mark globally, making it the fourth movie ever to hit that milestone. 

As for the slew of new releases… honestly, their box office was underwhelming. 

Twentieth Century Fox’s Silent Trigger, an R-rated crime thriller, had Oscar-winner Michael Douglas in the lead, but the timing was off. It only managed $15 million over the weekend. 

Warner Bros.’ Hearts in Atlantis was just too bland. It lacked the gripping moments to hook audiences, plodded along at a slow pace, and ended without any real punch. No major flaws, but nothing brilliant either. Anthony Hopkins and Penelope Cruz delivered solid performances, but the lackluster story couldn’t win over viewers. It limped to $9 million in its first three days—pretty dismal. 

Dunn, as expected, claimed the title of champion director on the weekly box office chart again. But the unexpected twist? It was A Beautiful Mind that carried him there. 

The film’s strong opening shattered doubts from theater chains. In just three days, it went from 1,200 screens to 2,800, thanks to that number-one spot. 

Universal’s forecast said it all: right now, A Beautiful Mind had no real competition at the box office. Never Sinking’s $50 million donation boost was tapped out, and it’d likely drop off the charts next week. 

Starting this week, A Beautiful Mind would stand alone as North America’s box office king! 

Even in this off-season lull, the unicorn glow around the film would keep its numbers solid. 

Maybe it’d hold strong until November 2, when Pixar’s Monsters, Inc. dropped, or November 16, when Warner Bros. and Dunn Pictures teamed up for The Chronicles of Narnia: The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe. Those might finally slow its roll. 

That’s still over a month away! 

Dunn’s reaction was pretty chill. His focus was on a fax from New Line Cinema. 

… 

Bob Shaye’s face was dark as thunder. He’d already snapped at his secretary, shooing her out, and slammed the papers in his hand onto his desk. 

“Jerk! That jerk! Jerk!” 

He couldn’t stop muttering curses under his breath. 

Hard to tell if he was mad at the guy who started this mess or the outrageous details in the document. 

It was a fax straight from Dunn Pictures, listing accusations from no less than 16 actresses! 

They all claimed that while filming Rush Hour 2, they’d faced harassment and gender discrimination from director Brett Ratner. 

Dunn didn’t even mention the blacklist. His stance was lofty—he called himself a feminist, fighting for justice! 

One actress said she’d barely arrived on set when she was told to deliver food to Ratner’s trailer. When she got there, she was floored. She set the food down, ready to bolt, but Ratner begged her to stay. 

“He waddled out with his big belly, no pants on. One hand holding a cocktail shrimp, the other going wild on himself. Before I could figure out where to hide or look, he finished.” 

Even Bob Shaye, who’d been defending Ratner, couldn’t help but mutter, “Shameless!” after reading that. 

Then there were the background actresses, claiming Ratner would pull them aside during shoots, demanding they flash him or perform other favors. 

Bob had been in the game for 30 years—one glance, and he knew what was legit. 

Even if you argued it was all made up, with over a dozen actresses pointing fingers, if this went public, Ratner’s career was toast. And it could drag New Line down with him! 

Rush Hour 2 was still in theaters, after all! 

Sure, its weekly box office was fading, but ticket sales only make up 20-30% of a movie’s total revenue. The real money’s in ancillary streams. 

If this blew up, Ratner’s ruined rep would be the least of it. The real damage would hit Rush Hour 2’s future earnings! 

This had to be dealt with—now! 

Last time Dunn called, Bob hadn’t given him any face. 

Was begging for peace an option now? 

Bob’s face was grim as iron. After a long silence, he decided to head to Warner Bros.’ headquarters. 

Dunn had the moral high ground locked down and wasn’t backing off. Bob didn’t have the confidence to sway him. 

At this point, bringing in Warner Bros.’ big boss, Barry Meyer, seemed like the smarter move. 

… 

At the hillside estate, two pairs of four stunning women lived it up. 

Rose Byrne and Abbie Cornish were one duo; Penelope Cruz and Charlize Theron were the other. 

Dunn usually rotated nights, living the high life. 

Now, Penelope had left to film Daredevil, and Charlize was on her way out too. She’d passed on Red Dragon, but with Never Sinking blowing up at the box office, her star was rising fast. Offers were pouring in, and she’d just signed on for The Italian Job. 

Dunn wasn’t about to let his bed sit empty. Finally, he remembered a certain beauty—Anne Hathaway. 

Truth is, this had been in the works since last year during The Princess Diaries. He’d even lined up the lead role for her in Pirates of the Caribbean: The Curse of the Black Pearl. 

The Princess Diaries had been out for two months now, and Dunn finally found time to bring Anne into the fold. 

“Everything squared away at home?” 

Dunn had held off on moving Anne in, mostly out of caution. 

Her mom was a small-time singer and actress—someone who’d know the ins and outs of the industry. 

Dunn didn’t want his personal entanglements spilling over to parents. 

Anne sat primly on the sofa in his office, dressed in a tight black mini-dress. Her skin was snowy white, her lips fiery red, and her hair cascaded casually over her shoulders. She bit her lip and gave a soft, “Mm-hmm.” 

“No issues with your parents?” 

“I’m an adult now, aren’t I?” Anne blinked, a flicker of confusion crossing her face. 

Dunn rubbed his forehead and chuckled. “Fair enough. So, you’re moving in tonight—no problem?” 

Anne’s cheeks flushed faintly, her voice barely a whisper. “No problem.” 

Dunn grinned, standing up. “Come on, let’s go meet a big shot.” 

“A big shot?” Anne’s mind was quick. She flashed a sweet smile. “To me, you’re the biggest shot around.” 

Dunn didn’t argue. He stepped over, slid an arm around her slim waist, and said casually, “Either way, when Barry Meyer personally invites you, you’ve got to give him some face.” 

“Barry Meyer?” 

Anne paused, the name ringing a bell, like she’d heard it somewhere. 

Dunn nodded. “Yep. Warner Bros.’ new chairman and CEO.” 

“Oh!” Anne gasped as it clicked, then tensed up. “Sir, is it… okay for me to go?” 

“Why wouldn’t it be?” 

“I… I’m not wearing a gown…” Anne sounded nervous, clearly intimidated by the legendary name. 

Dunn laughed, his hand slipping down from her waist to give her full, round hip a light pat. “Relax, it’s just Barry Meyer—nothing crazy. Stick with me, and you don’t need to fear anyone or anything!” 

“Even Disney?” 

“Disney?” Dunn’s lips curled into a smirk, followed by a cold huff. 

Chapter 419: This Is Power! 

In the aftermath of the dot-com bubble, if you had to pick the companies with the most tragic fates, Yahoo wouldn’t even make the list. 

The top spot would go to UN Microelectronics, with Time Warner coming in second! 

The merger between Time Warner and AOL had already racked up a staggering $90 billion in losses, and their stock price was still plummeting! 

The CEO of AOL Time Warner, Levin, had stepped down, and three months ago, Time Warner’s board member Richard Parsons officially took over. 

His appointment was as explosive as President George W. Bush naming Colin Powell the first Black Secretary of State in U.S. history. 

Richard Parsons had become the most powerful Black executive ever! 

But could he save this sinking ship? 

All signs pointed to… maybe not! 

Still, upper-level corporate shakeups didn’t affect Barry Meyer. Six months earlier, he’d smoothly taken over from Terry Semel, securing control of Warner Bros. 

Barry Meyer might not match President Alan Horn’s expertise in film, but when it came to people skills and coordinating with the parent company, he was in his element. 

Bob Shay, on the other hand, was in a bind. After just one clash with Dunn, he’d been left battered and bruised, with no room to fight back. His only option was to turn to Barry Meyer, the big boss, for help. 

The meeting took place on a luxurious private yacht docked at Laguna Beach’s harbor. 

The last time Barry Meyer had met Dunn here, it was to negotiate a co-investment deal, and it had gone off without a hitch. He hoped this time would be the same. 

But when he saw Dunn, Barry couldn’t help but pause for a split second. 

Last time, Dunn had brought a stunning beauty—Penelope Cruz—who’d starred in two Warner-backed films. 

Now… he’d swapped her out for another gorgeous, vibrant young woman! 

“Dunn, you’re really living it up… I mean, young and thriving!” Barry Meyer stepped forward warmly, giving Dunn a big hug. 

Dunn smirked, glancing at him. “Bob’s not here?” 

Barry shook his head with a wry smile. “You… still as hot-headed as ever! He’s up on the front deck. Probably too embarrassed to face you.” 

Dunn chuckled, then gestured to the girl beside him. “This is Anne Hathaway, an actress.” 

“Hi, Mr. Meyer. You can call me Anne,” Anne Hathaway said, her smile as sweet as ice cream. 

Barry gave her a quick once-over and grinned. “Great look, great vibe. I’ll let the production team know—if there’s a good project, we’ll reach out.” 

Dunn burst out laughing. “Barry, you’ve got it all wrong! She starred in Disney’s The Princess Diaries, a huge box office hit. Plus, she’s leading a big commercial film I’m producing, set for next summer. By then… Warner might be begging her, and she might not even have the time!” 

Anne’s cheeks flushed with delight, making her even more radiant. 

Barry shot Dunn a mock glare. “Alright, let’s head over to Bob. And watch your words.” 

Dunn grinned. “I know.” 

They were all sharp enough to read between the lines. 

Brett Ratner was just a second- or third-tier director in Hollywood—a small fry. Barry Meyer stepping in personally was already a nod to Dunn’s influence. And Dunn showing up, armed with the moral high ground, was a sign of good faith. 

If both sides gave a little, this could be settled easily. 

The yacht started up, gliding away from the harbor. The sea and sky stretched out endlessly, a breathtaking scene that lifted the spirits. 

A gentle breeze brushed through Anne Hathaway’s soft hair, pairing perfectly with her sweet, innocent smile—enough to melt anyone. 

Dunn slipped an arm around her slim waist, the scent of her filling his senses, brightening his mood even more. 

On the yacht’s front deck, a simple white table sat with a bottle of red wine and a few glasses. Bob Shay stood up, looking a bit flustered. “D-Dunn… heh, you’re here…” 

Dunn stepped forward with a smile, shaking his hand. “I thought we’d be meeting on a battlefield, not out here with blue skies and open water.” 

Bob stammered, forcing a weak laugh. “Dunn, you… you’re quite the joker.” 

Barry Meyer hurried over, ushering everyone to sit and pouring Dunn a glass of wine himself. “It’s just a small-time director. Ban him and be done with it—no big deal. No need to let it sour things!” 

Dunn shrugged casually. “Yeah, a small director. I wasn’t even sweating it. But Bob seems pretty attached to him.” 

Barry chuckled. “I know the situation—it’s Brett Ratner, right? He directs the Rush Hour series. It’s a decent money-maker, so banning him hits New Line’s bottom line hard.” 

Bob nodded eagerly. “Exactly! In business, running a company, profit’s what matters most, right?” 

Dunn shook his head. “Not for me. Face and dignity come first.” 

Bob’s expression froze, and he shot Barry a pleading look. 

Barry waved a hand dismissively. “Like I said, it’s a minor issue. If a small director’s existence clashes with your dignity, then your reputation obviously takes priority!” 

Anne Hathaway, sitting quietly beside Dunn, felt her heart race. 

Listening to these big shots talk was downright chilling. 

Brett Ratner… the director of the Rush Hour series, brushed off as nothing? His worth less than a bigwig’s pride? If a director like that didn’t matter, what were small-time actors like her? 

Suddenly, Hollywood felt like a chessboard—these moguls were the players, and actors and directors were just pawns they moved at will. 

She glanced at Dunn, chatting and laughing beside her, and realized how crucial it was to latch onto someone powerful. 

Dunn gave Barry a long look, smiling faintly. This guy was a true heavyweight at Warner Bros.—his poise and decisiveness outclassed Bob Shay by miles. 

“Of course, I’m not about to tank New Line’s profits just to boost my own ego.” 

Though still young, Dunn had been through enough in recent years to mellow out his once-reckless style. He’d learned the art of knowing when to push and when to pull back. 

Barry flashed a satisfied grin. 

Bob perked up, a bit excited. “You’ve got a plan?” 

Dunn said, “I watched Rush Hour 2. Tight pacing, pretty fun, but overall, the story’s stale and predictable. Expectations are low.” 

Bob nodded. That tracked. Rush Hour 2 had crushed it at the box office, pulling in over $200 million in North America, but the reviews were lukewarm. 

Barry smiled slightly. “I think it could work.” 

Bob caught Dunn’s drift too. 

For a sequel, box office success was the baseline. But reputation mattered. If the word of mouth was too bad and audiences lost interest, even a big hit couldn’t justify rushing into another installment. You had to let time rebuild anticipation before rebooting the franchise. 

Take Universal’s The Mummy. After the first film’s success, they fast-tracked The Mummy Returns, riding the original’s hype to over $430million worldwide. But the reviews tanked. 

Left with no choice, Universal shelved the third Mummy film, waiting five or six years to try again. 

The Rush Hour series faced the same issue now. 

Rush Hour 2 had solid numbers, but its reputation was shot. Jackie Chan had churned out too many similar flicks lately, and U.S. audiences were over it. 

Rush Hour 3 would have to wait. 

In its previous life, it didn’t hit theaters until 2007. 

Bob’s mood lightened considerably. Dunn wasn’t going for the kill, and that was the biggest mercy he could ask for. He let out a relieved laugh. “Well, that’s a load off! As long as my film projects aren’t hit, everything else is manageable.” 

Dunn took a small sip of wine, his tone cool. “I told you, I only care about my dignity. All of Hollywood knows I want him banned. I need results.” 

Barry waved a hand grandly. “Easy fix. I’ll personally reach out to the major studios and slap Brett Ratner with a three-year ‘no-work’ ban as punishment!” 

Dunn frowned, holding up five fingers. “Five years.” 

Barry didn’t blink. “Done!” 

Bob grinned. “Ratner’s been abusing his power on set, mistreating women—it’s caused a real mess. Some punishment’s fair. But let’s keep it internal, no need to alert the press.” 

As long as the public didn’t catch wind, Ratner’s image would stay intact, and the Rush Hour brand wouldn’t take a hit. 

Dunn nodded. “No need to go public, sure. But an internal memo is non-negotiable. I want a formal apology from him, filed with all the major studios and agencies.” 

Barry, all authority, declared, “Settled! Bob, you handle Ratner. If he cooperates, great. If not… hmph!” 

Bob said, “I’ve got it. A five-year ban could be good for him—let him cool off, brush up on theory, you know? He’s young; he’ll figure out what matters.” 

Anne Hathaway sat silently beside Dunn, dumbfounded. 

Was this for real? 

Brett Ratner was a rising star in Hollywood! 

And these three guys had just decided his career—his entire future—in a few casual sentences? Without even needing his consent? 

That’s power! 

Bob Shay was one thing, but Dunn Walker and Barry Meyer? They were the ultimate heavyweights in Hollywood! 

Chapter 420: Different Paths of the Ring 

Compared to completely blacklisting Brett Ratner, slapping him with a five-year "film ban" might actually suit Dunn better. 

If Dunn truly cut off all of Ratner’s escape routes, even if Barry Meyer and Bob Shaye caved, the fallout would be a headache. Other movie giants and Legendary Pictures, tied up in their "portfolio investment" projects, might give Dunn some leeway. 

But Disney? No chance. The two companies had long since burned every bridge. 

If it came to that, Ratner would likely run to Disney, maybe even team up with Harvey Weinstein, staying active in the film market and chipping away at Dunn’s authority. 

This way, though, it’s different. A five-year ban, with Barry Meyer smoothing things over, keeps Ratner from going off the deep end—no matter how fired up he gets. 

He’d have to swallow his pride, apologize, and repent. 

Dunn’s tough stance and unshakable clout in the industry would naturally solidify. 

Feeling good, Dunn gazed out at the vast ocean with a grin. "By the way, The Lord of the Rings is coming up soon, right? I heard it’s got over 1,500 VFX shots?" 

Bob Shaye let out a small sigh. "Yeah, just making those effects cost us $47 million!" 

Dunn shook his head. "Bob, you should be grateful. Lucky you picked New Zealand—no unions, low wages, low taxes, and unlimited overtime. If this was shot in the U.S., 1,500 CGI shots would’ve run you at least $100 million!" 

Bob chuckled. "True, we owe that to Peter and his Weta Workshop." 

The Lord of the Rings trilogy is legendary, its place in film history right up there with Titanic and Avatar. Dunn was hooked on the topic. 

"I heard the project’s journey was a mess. Care to break it down?" 

"Sure, no secrets here," Bob said, pausing. "But it’s a long story—could fill a book." 

Barry Meyer grinned. "Quit teasing and spill it! I’ve seen the final cut of The Rings—it’s stunning. Looks like a blockbuster in the making." 

Bob’s eyes lit up at that, and he cleared his throat before diving in.  

"This goes back 35 years. United Artists hadn’t been bought by MGM yet. They wanted to adapt Tolkien’s books into movies, so they shelled out £10,000 for the film rights to The Lord of the Rings trilogy and The Hobbit. Oh, and one thing—this wasn’t some time-limited deal; it was a permanent buyout." 

"The budget was too big, though, and United Artists couldn’t get it off the ground. It just sat there. Then this animation director, Ralph Bakshi, came along. He wanted to turn The Rings into an animated film. He tried convincing MGM to buy the rights for $3 million, but they said no. So he went to a producer he’d worked with before, Saul Zaentz." 

"Saul Zaentz ponied up $3.5 million and snagged the film adaptation rights to the Rings trilogy, plus production rights to The Hobbit." 

"Hold up!" Dunn cut in, raising a hand. "You’re saying this producer only got production rights to The Hobbit?" 

Bob nodded. "Yep. The distribution rights stayed with United Artists. Of course, now that MGM’s swallowed up United Artists, those rights are with MGM." 

Dunn got it now. No wonder MGM popped up out of nowhere for the Hobbit trilogy later on. 

Bob went on. "To make The Rings into an animated flick, Saul Zaentz also bought the trademark rights to all the characters, settings, and objects from Tolkien’s heirs, clearing the last hurdle for production." 

Barry Meyer nodded. "I saw that animated Rings. Box office was solid, but the reviews were awful. Killed any chance of a sequel." 

"And then?" Dunn pressed. 

"Fast forward to 1993," Bob said. "Peter Jackson caught the eye of big-shot director Robert Zemeckis, who tapped him to direct The Frighteners. Peter convinced Zemeckis to shoot in New Zealand and use his Weta Workshop for the effects. It turned out great." 

"Think about it—Jurassic Park had just 50 VFX shots, but The Frighteners had 570. The CGI was smooth, gorgeous, and blew everyone in Hollywood away." 

"Then in 1994, Peter’s Heavenly Creatures came out, and the reviews were even better. Harvey Weinstein took notice, bought the distribution rights, and in return, locked in ‘first-look’ rights to Peter’s next film." 

Dunn’s brow furrowed. He hadn’t expected Harvey Weinstein to worm his way into The Rings like that. 

First-look rights meant Peter’s next movie—whatever it was—had to go through Harvey. 

Bob continued. "By then, with Zemeckis and Weinstein boosting him, Peter Jackson was suddenly a hot name in Hollywood. Twentieth Century Fox wanted him for Planet of the Apes with James Cameron producing. Universal pitched him King Kong—his dream project. And Harvey, thanks to a favor, wanted to kick off The Hobbit!" 

"The Hobbit?" The name alone made Dunn blurt it out. 

Bob had to explain. "Saul Zaentz had produced this huge film—maybe you’ve heard of it, The English Patient. It started with Fox Searchlight, but they bailed over profit disputes. Miramax stepped in and funded it, so Saul owed Harvey a favor." 

Dunn’s head was spinning. What a tangled web! 

And it wasn’t over. Bob smirked. "Harvey wanted to do The Hobbit, but with the distribution rights stuck at MGM, it got messy. So he pivoted to The Lord of the Rings trilogy instead." 

"So… Harvey Weinstein was the real driving force behind The Rings?" Dunn’s frown deepened. 

Bob nodded. "Results say yes. Peter was just a small-time director—passionate, driven, but no connections. He couldn’t have pulled off a project this massive alone." 

That Harvey Weinstein—flipping the game like it was nothing! 

Dunn waved a hand, half-exhausted. "Go on, what’s next?" 

"Harvey planned The Rings as a two-parter," Bob said. "Peter didn’t want to do Planet of the Apes—too scared of being overshadowed by Cameron. But King Kong? He was all over that. He wanted to make it." 

"To get Peter to delay Kong and focus on The Rings, Harvey cut a deal with Universal. Universal handed over Kong’s international distribution rights to Miramax, and Miramax gave The Rings’ international rights to Universal—a win-win partnership." 

"But Harvey’s Rings was two films, while Kong was just one. Miramax got the short end of the stick, so Universal tossed them another project to even it out—the big one, Shakespeare in Love." 

Even Anne Hathaway, a newbie actress, was floored. Dunn? He was practically dumbfounded. 

What a convoluted mess! 

Dunn had long seen Universal as his for the taking, but hearing Shakespeare in Love came from them to Miramax? He nearly spat blood. 

The English Patient and Shakespeare in Love—Miramax’s Oscar darlings. One from Fox, one from Universal. Was Harvey just stupidly lucky, or insanely good? 

Barry Meyer shot Bob a look. "You’ve talked this long, and it’s all got nothing to do with New Line. How’d New Line even get in on The Rings? Don’t tell me… another gift from our old pal?" 

"Old pal?" Dunn raised an eyebrow. 

Barry smirked. "Michael Eisner!" 

Rush Hour was originally Disney’s baby, but Michael Eisner couldn’t stand Jackie Chan’s style—same way he hated Johnny Depp’s vibe in Pirates of the Caribbean. He called it "clownish monkey business." 

So, thanks to the big boss’s distaste, Rush Hour landed in New Line’s lap. 

Bob burst out laughing. "Yep, once again, we’ve got our old friend to thank!" 

Dunn caught on and couldn’t help but join in the mocking. 

Michael Eisner’s eye for films was seriously outdated! 

Maybe back in the ‘80s at Paramount, he had some knack for it. But at Disney? His taste in movies had gone completely off the rails. 

From Rush Hour to The Rings to later Elf—all these hits ended up with New Line. Even after Jerry Bruckheimer made Pirates, Eisner trashed it, calling it Disney’s future flop! 

History proved otherwise. The Pirates series ended up on par with The Rings…