347-349

Chapter 347: The Extravagant Boss Dunn 

When it comes to movie special effects, generally speaking, 80% is handled by computers in post-production, while 20% involves setting up 3D models.  

Digital Domain was founded because James Cameron wasn’t satisfied with Industrial Light & Magic’s 3D modeling standards back in the day. They didn’t match his vision for Titanic, so he started his own effects company to get it done himself.  

That’s why, in terms of 3D tech development, Digital Domain’s capabilities leave even Industrial Light & Magic in the dust.  

Their effects department is world-renowned and incredibly versatile—everything from massive physics-based dynamics plugins and implicit surface models for fluid particles, down to tiny batch-processing tools, is precise and stunning.  

In particular, Digital Domain developed a large-scale, high-efficiency fluid dynamics software based on closed-flow container fields all on their own. For big scene effects, it’s a game-changer—its efficiency can outpace Industrial Light & Magic by three times.  

And for animated films, where every frame is packed with effects, it’s a perfect match.  

James Cameron’s an artist. He’s all in when it comes to shooting movies, holding art exhibits, or sailing the seas—stuff that excites him. But managing a company? He couldn’t care less.  

That’s why Digital Domain had an amazing start but stumbled in the Hollywood effects race. The big boss was too busy with his own pursuits, leaving the company without enough business channels or support. It didn’t take long for them to lose ground in the effects boom.  

It wasn’t a loss of tech—it was a loss of connections!  

Without projects from movie studios, no matter how good Digital Domain was, they couldn’t turn a profit.  

Now, Dunn’s planning to take over Digital Domain, and of course, that fits perfectly with James Cameron’s thinking!  

Did he start this effects company to make money?  

Nonsense.  

This industry barely breaks even.  

To manage it and wield power?  

Nonsense again.  

Cameron never touches Digital Domain’s management.  

His one and only goal with the company? To have a team that can create effects exactly how he wants them when he’s making a movie!  

Given his friendship with Dunn, does it really matter if Digital Domain’s in Dunn’s hands instead of his?  

He and Dunn are already the ultimate partners.  

Plus, handing it off to Dunn saves him a ton of headaches.  

Dunn doesn’t screw over his friends—at least not when it comes to money. He’s generous, slapping down a hefty $20 million offer for Digital Domain!  

Keep in mind, Digital Domain’s only the third-ranked effects company in Hollywood.  

The second-ranked Pacific Data Images got bought out by DreamWorks Animation last year for just $17 million.  

Dunn’s $20 million price tag? That’s sincerity in spades!  

James Cameron doesn’t care about a few million here or there. He directed The Unsinkable, with a 10% cut of global box office profits—that’s a massive payday.  

But the other two founders of Digital Domain, Stan Winston and Scott Ross, were absolutely thrilled.  

Dunn, no doubt about it, is a big-shot boss!  

Extravagant!  

A week later, Tosca Musk got called into Dunn’s office again.  

This time, things felt different. Even the little secretary, Isla Fisher, gave her a sneaky wink, clearly hinting at some good news.  

“Tosca, take a seat.”  

Dunn was laid-back as always. He grabbed a thick stack of papers from his desk, walked over to the sofa across from Tosca Musk, sat down, and slid the files over to her.  

“What’s this?” Tosca Musk asked, a little caught off guard.  

Dunn said casually, “Over the past few days, I’ve talked it over with some of the company’s top execs, and we all agree—you’re the one we need!”  

Of course, that was just his take.  

According to Bill Mechanic, the attitude toward Tosca Musk was more like: either cut her loose early or back her up big time.  

Someone as opinionated and proactive as her? If you use her right, she’s a pillar of strength. If not, she’s a ticking time bomb.  

Clearly, Dunn was betting on trust.  

Wasn’t the whole reason he wanted to ditch Tony Grammo, the head of the R TV network, because the guy had no backbone?  

Tosca Musk—independent, self-driven, open-minded, and tough—was worth Dunn’s confidence.  

More importantly, the more female execs Dunn Pictures had, the more it showed Dunn’s support for feminism.  

It was all part of the bigger strategic picture.  

Hearing Dunn’s words, Tosca Musk snapped to attention. This was a serious “organizational” talk. She sat up straight, all ears.  

Dunn continued, “This is the paperwork for Dunn Pictures acquiring the remaining 50% of Sillywood Animation’s shares. It’s valued at $35 million. Take a look. If it’s all good, you can sign it. Oh, and you’ll need to explain it to your brother too.”  

When Sillywood Animation was first set up, Dunn Pictures put in $30 million for a 50% stake. Elon Musk chipped in $20 million for his sister, giving her a 40% share.  

Tosca Musk, as the manager, held 10% in management shares.  

Now, not even a year later, Dunn was bumping the company’s value from $50 million to $70 million. Talk about generous.  

And a little pushy!  

This was obviously a negotiated deal, but Dunn had set the price single-handedly, prepped the files, and just waited for confirmation.  

No room for haggling!  

Tosca Musk took the papers, skimmed them, and grinned. “If my brother finds out I made him this much money, he’s going to be over the moon.”  

“So, you’re good with it?”  

“Of course! This price is totally fair! Only downside is I lose my management shares.”  

Dunn waved it off. “Dunn Pictures is still in a strategic growth phase—no stock restructuring yet. But I keep track of everyone who contributes to the company. You don’t need to worry about that.”  

Tosca Musk giggled. “I know! This deal alone proves how big-hearted you are, boss.”  

Dunn pointed at her with a chuckle and shook his head. “Two more things to tell you. First, I’ve wrapped up the Digital Domain acquisition—it’s in the contract phase now. I want you, as VP of Dunn Pictures, to take over the case and merge Digital Domain into Sillywood Animation after the buyout.”  

Tosca Musk froze.  

Dunn’s words were loaded with info!  

“Digital Domain’s already acquired? It’s at the contract stage? That fast? It’s only been a week!”  

Dunn shot back, “If you offered $20 million for Digital Domain, you could close a deal in half a month too!”  

Tosca Musk pouted. “Big boss moves—money talks! But VP? Did I just get promoted?”  

Dunn grinned. “What, not happy about it?”  

“No, no, no—it’s just so unexpected!” Tosca Musk was too stunned to even feel excited, her face full of surprise.  

In terms of experience or tenure, she clearly wasn’t ready to be VP at Dunn Pictures.  

The president was Bill Mechanic, and the VP was Wes Cotton—both ex-20th Century Fox execs with stellar track records.  

Her resume? Way too thin.  

Dunn mused, “I’m giving you this role mainly to show how much I value the animation side of things. Plus, it’s tied to the vision you showed in our last talk—I really admire your strategic thinking.”  

Tosca Musk tested the waters. “So, you want me to handle strategic business for Dunn Pictures? Isn’t that Mr. Cotton’s job?”  

Dunn clarified, “Your focus is still Sillywood Animation. The extra task? I want you to build a solid relationship with Viacom when you’re handing over Fantastic Four.”  

Tosca Musk’s eyes lit up. “So my ideas last time were on the right track?”  

Dunn nodded with a smile. “Not just me—Bill agrees too.”  

Tosca Musk smirked, practically beaming.  

That feeling of being valued by the boss and proving her worth? Better than a date any day.  

Dunn went on, “Following your plan, we can offload Fantastic Four to Nickelodeon at a low price. And it just so happens that Dick Clark Productions, under Dunn Pictures, makes American Idol, which also partners with Viacom’s B channel. I want you to handle both of those and build a strong bond with Viacom—or rather, with Mr. Redstone.”  

Tosca Musk grinned playfully. “You’re not asking me to charm that old guy with my looks, are you?”  

Dunn frowned. “Tosca, that’s not funny! You’re a top-tier professional I’m grooming, not some third-rate actress! And honestly, even with actors, I’d never force anyone into that.”  

“Alright, my bad,” Tosca Musk said, raising her hands in surrender before chuckling. “I get it. Building a good relationship with Redstone is just a front. That old fox has more life experience than both of us combined—pleasing him’s tough. Our real play is to lull him.”  

“Exactly—lull him!”  

Dunn nodded approvingly. “With Spider-Man hitting screens, the TV network’s already in family viewers’ sights. Your top job now is to keep Redstone off our backs for the short term so he doesn’t mess with the network!”  

“Short term?”  

“At least until September!”  

“September?”  

Tosca Musk’s delicate brows furrowed slightly. “Four months? That’s easy to manage. But Dunn, are you sure the network can hold its own against the big dogs in just a few months?”  

“Nope!”  

“Huh?”  

Dunn smirked, dangling a tease. “But I’ve got a secret weapon to boost us overnight.”  

Tosca Musk blinked. “Band of Brothers?”  

Dunn rolled his eyes. “You’re pretty plugged in, huh!”  

“One TV show can shake up the cable TV game?” Tosca Musk wasn’t buying it, her face skeptical.  

Dunn waved it off. “Don’t worry about that. Your job, as VP, is to handle Redstone’s PR for me!”  

“No problem!”  

Tosca Musk took a deep breath, answering with crisp confidence, then flashed a sly smile. “So, what about my big animated movie? How much are you investing?”  

“$80 million!”  

“What?!”  

Tosca Musk stared at Dunn, speechless for once.  

Boss Dunn—extravagant as ever! 

Chapter 348: The Second Big Ship  

Everything was ready. The oil tanker Pendleton finally glided into view.  

Due to various setbacks, James Cameron hadn’t been able to finish shooting Titanic as planned. But now, the Pendleton tanker had become the vessel carrying all his hopes.  

On May 25th, the curtains officially rose!  

Lately, Pearl Harbor had been making a lot of noise. From the main cast to the behind-the-scenes crew, practically everyone involved had become a promotional tool. Disney’s production team was dead-set on using this film to shake off the slump the studio had been facing in the movie market.  

The premiere of Pearl Harbor was a star-studded affair, packed with big names. Disney’s connections were on full display. Thanks to their slick marketing, tons of well-known critics eagerly showed up, itching to get a first look.  

By comparison, The Unsinkable kept things way quieter.  

Throughout the entire promotional run, The Unsinkable had been totally overshadowed by Pearl Harbor.  

That wasn’t surprising, though. Without Dunn leaning on his personal charisma to hype The Unsinkable, Universal Pictures’ distribution muscle alone couldn’t hold a candle to Disney’s.  

Still, it wasn’t a complete bust.  

At least at the preview screenings, eager fans were still lining up outside theaters in droves.  

It’s just that, compared to the glitz and glamour over there, the premiere here felt a little… underwhelming.  

“Are you sure this is fine? Even the mayor went to their side,” James Cameron said in the lounge, his face darkening after a phone call. The cheerful glow he’d had earlier was now tinged with worry.  

Dunn grinned. “What’s there to worry about? You don’t seriously think Michael Bay’s got anything on you, do you?”  

Cameron shook his head with a sigh. “If this were ten, twenty years ago, I wouldn’t bat an eye. But times have changed fast. Movie marketing matters more than ever now.”  

Dunn shrugged casually. “Sure, marketing’s getting bigger, but only if it’s the right kind of marketing! Pearl Harbor keeps comparing itself to Titanic at every turn—that’s a one-way ticket to disaster.”  

Cameron glanced at the time and stood up. “Let’s hope so.”  

Dunn flashed a confident smile. “One big ship gave us a miracle together, James. This time, with this second ship, we’re still gonna make history!”  

Cameron turned back, chuckling. “Dunn, you’re always so upbeat and sunny. Come on, it’s almost time. Let’s go greet the guests.”  

…  

With Liv Tyler by his side, Dunn stepped onto the red carpet.  

She was the leading lady of The Unsinkable, and tonight, she was dressed to dazzle. Her blue spaghetti-strap gown had a plunging V-neck that dipped all the way to her navel, leaving little to the imagination. She was clearly going all out to steal the spotlight.  

A young assistant scurried over, whispering in Dunn’s ear, “The reporters are set. All pre-approved questions—three in total.”  

Dunn nodded with a smile, then linked arms with Liv Tyler and started down the carpet.  

In an instant, camera flashes lit up the night like it was daytime. Liv Tyler transformed—graceful, poised, waving gently to the reporters and fans lining both sides.  

She just… walked way too slow!  

Dunn hated doing red carpets with actresses for exactly this reason.  

But The Unsinkable was already behind in the promo game, so this time, he had to play along with the team’s plan and make a splashy entrance.  

Finally reaching the end of the carpet, Dunn grinned and zeroed in on a reporter from the Los Angeles Times.  

“Mr. Walker, hi! Are you confident about The Unsinkable’s box office? This is your second collaboration with Director Cameron—do you think you’ll top Titanic’s record together?”  

Dunn didn’t miss a beat. “Box office numbers are the studio’s thing. What fans care about is the quality of the movie. I can’t predict ticket sales, but I can promise fans this: The Unsinkable is every bit as good as Titanic.”  

“Everyone knows Pearl Harbor’s premiere is happening tonight at the Chinese Theatre too. They’re saying it could break Titanic’s box office record—is that true?”  

Dunn laughed. “I don’t like commenting on other people’s films. Pearl Harbor’s been measuring itself against my movie Titanic all through their campaign, acting like… they’re gonna outdo my past wins. Everyone’s got their own take, so I won’t say much. But Titanic was one big ship. Today, The Unsinkable is another. While they’re chasing that first ship, our second one sets sail tonight.”  

“One last question. Their premiere seems a lot flashier than this one. What do you think about that?”  

Dunn answered calmly, “Movies are Hollywood’s gift to fans worldwide, not just a show for a handful of VIPs. As the producer of The Unsinkable, I’ve been working with Director Cameron to put our best foot forward for the audience—that’s what matters most.”  

…  

“And now, let’s welcome a crew member from that fateful sea disaster, the great rescue hero, Mr. Richard Livesey!”  

The screening room erupted in applause.  

An eighty-something-year-old man slowly stood, leaning on a staff member for support as he shuffled to the front.  

Down in the audience, Dunn yawned, bored out of his mind.  

They’d just trotted out a dozen survivors from that old maritime disaster—all in their eighties now—for this promotional stunt. Deep down, Dunn didn’t like it one bit.  

But Universal seemed to love it. During the campaign, they’d kept parading these elderly folks out, playing the emotional card hard.  

“I can’t shake the feeling that Hollywood’s way of handling old people… lacks respect,” Dunn muttered under his breath to James Cameron.  

Cameron shot him an odd look. “Doesn’t this help your bottom line? Maybe… they enjoy soaking up the applause.”  

Dunn smirked. “Circus monkeys get applause too.”  

Cameron frowned. “Dunn, that’s a terrible analogy!”  

“I know, I know. I just mean… if this movie doesn’t start soon, I’m gonna fall asleep. This whole ceremony’s too drawn-out and complicated,” Dunn said with a sigh.  

Charlize Theron, sitting on his other side, stifled a laugh. “Oh, come on, Dunn. I think you’re just deflecting. You’re not annoyed about these old folks—you’re stressing over Pearl Harbor.”  

Dunn blinked, then chuckled. “Charlize, your psychology game’s on point. Been taking lessons from Nat?”  

Charlize bit her lip and mumbled, “Miss Portman barely even talks to me!”  

Dunn almost burst out laughing.  

Harvard wasn’t out for summer yet, but George Lucas had recently called back the cast for reshoots on Star Wars: Episode II – Attack of the Clones. Natalie didn’t have a big part, but she’d still been dragged in for a week of filming.  

It was mostly because Dunn’s Star Wars: Episode I – The Phantom Menace had done so well that Lucas was feeling the heat. He’d been obsessing over perfection in post-production ever since.  

At this rate, Episode II’s production timeline was looking at over 25 months.  

Lately, Natalie had been getting along great with Rose Byrne, but she’d been a little chilly with Penélope Cruz and Charlize Theron.  

Dunn leaned in and whispered, “It’s mostly ‘cause your figure’s too perfect—curvy, tall, stunning. She’s feeling the pressure.”  

Charlize’s lips curled into a small smile. “So… you like me?”  

“Of course. I like your body,” Dunn said bluntly.  

Charlize’s eyes lit up with hope. “Just… my body?”  

Dunn kept his face neutral and pointed ahead. “Alright, ceremony’s over. Time for the movie!”  

Charlize’s eyes dimmed instantly.  

The lights in the screening room faded, and the big screen went pitch black.  

The whole place felt like it had plunged into an endless night—couldn’t see your hand in front of your face.  

Then, a faint glimmer appeared on the screen, cutting through the vast darkness from a corner of the frame.  

The light grew stronger, brighter.  

Amid a swelling, majestic score, it formed the Dunn Films logo.  

The movie was starting! 

Chapter 349: Boundless Human Love, Never Sinking!  

A disaster movie, at its core, needs just two things to succeed: “effects” and “emotion.” “Effects” mean computer-generated visuals, while “emotion” covers things like friendship, family, and love.  

When it comes to effects, James Cameron’s a genius. And when it comes to emotional storytelling? He’s top-tier in the industry.  

The Unsinkable isn’t about the gut-wrenching romance between a man and a woman like Titanic. Instead, it’s about the boundless love of humanity in the face of life and death!  

The story unfolds along two main threads.  

The first follows the male lead, “Bernie Webber,” played by Matthew McConaughey. He’s a member of the Massachusetts Coast Guard.  

During a ferocious storm, two oil tankers are badly damaged. The bulk of the rescue forces in the Greater Boston area rush to save the tanker with more people on board, leaving the rescue of the Pendleton to “Bernie Webber”—a guy with barely any sea experience.  

He’s thrust into the mission, bravely risking his life to head out to sea. With three others, he forms a rescue team and sets off in a “mini” boat to save the day.  

In the raging storm, their mission is insanely dangerous. Seasoned vets call it a suicide run and beg “Bernie Webber’s” team not to throw their lives away.  

But “Bernie Webber” leads his crew with real American heroism, charging forward without hesitation!  

The second thread centers on the second male lead, “Ray Hilbert,” played by Mel Gibson.  

By now, the Pendleton tanker has split in two. The captain and many crew members have perished with the other half of the ship. As the mechanic, “Ray Hilbert” is the highest-ranking survivor, but he’s quiet and lacks authority, and things are spiraling out of control.  

Enter Charlize Theron as the only woman on board—the second female lead. She steps up with a man’s grit and courage, showcasing a woman’s strength. She rallies beside “Ray Hilbert,” encouraging the survivors to work together to push the sinking tanker onto a shoal and wait for rescue.  

Finally, after countless perils and brushes with death, the two threads collide!  

“Bernie Webber” finds the stranded Pendleton tanker and discovers 32 survivors.  

The tiny boat’s max capacity is 12, but they all choose to live or die together.  

“We’d rather die together than live apart!”  

That passionate line instantly strikes a chord with the entire audience.  

Compared to Titanic’s tender heartache, The Unsinkable is a man’s story through and through. Even Charlize Theron, a key player, radiates the same bravery, guts, and resilience as the guys.  

In the end, the rescue team decides to pile all 32 survivors onto the little boat and head back.  

The journey home is brutal.  

The boat’s so overloaded it nearly sinks several times.  

Heath Ledger plays a sailor—Richard Livesey—who got applause at the opening. He offers to jump overboard, sacrificing himself to save more lives, but his crewmates stop him instantly.  

That gut-wrenching cry rings out again: “We’d rather die together than live apart!”  

Images hit harder than words ever could!  

After nearly two hours of buildup, the rescue team’s heroism—transcending life and death—peaks in this moment.  

“We’ve already risked it all and found the answer—how could we fail now?”  

It’s like Jack and Rose in Titanic, floating on debris as the ship sinks, sharing their final goodbyes.  

It’s a cliché scene, sure, but it’s the easiest way to tug at heartstrings.  

Giving up your shot at survival for others—many of whom you didn’t even know before?  

How could that not move you?  

Heath Ledger’s breakdown after being saved, his “plea for death” tears, leaves countless viewers in awe.  

Sniffles ripple through the theater.  

These aren’t tears for romance—they’re for the vast love of humanity!  

There are things in this world worth holding onto—justice, truth, hope, freedom. Things that matter more than life itself.  

With his signature flair, James Cameron drives home The Unsinkable’s human theme in this moment, loud and clear!  

Right then, Whitney Houston’s superstar voice rises softly with “The Price of Life.”  

It starts calm, then builds with chaotic drums and a powerful electronic beat. The melody syncs perfectly with The Unsinkable—danger, upheaval, the test of life and death.  

Dunn’s phone buzzes in his pocket a few times.  

Pearl Harbor is holding its big premiere over there, and Dunn had sent some trusted folks to check it out. Looks like they’re reporting back.  

But right now, Dunn’s not rushing to check. He wants to soak in the movie’s magic with the audience.  

The film hits a major climax—a deep dive into the heights of human spirit.  

Sure, he’s the producer and has seen it dozens of times. He even gave notes on this scene’s edit.  

But The Unsinkable is a fresh flick from another life, a James Cameron masterpiece!  

As a film buff alone, Dunn’s happy to watch it again!  

Charlize Theron hears the faint “buzz buzz” too. She lets out a soft sigh, snapping out of the story just enough to wipe her eyes. She glances at Dunn and whispers, “Honestly, I think ending the movie here would’ve made it even grander!”  

As the female lead, she knows where the story’s headed.  

And yeah, the title The Unsinkable gives it away—it’s not a tragedy. Through relentless effort, struggle, and grit, the characters pull off the impossible, beating a monstrous tsunami.  

Thanks to everyone’s fight, this rescue boat truly never sinks!  

Dunn sighs. He gets it—if “Heath Ledger” jumped and saved everyone else, it’d broaden the theme and crank up the prestige.  

But that’s too brutal, too uncommercial.  

“Titanic set a box office legend, but it also left a regret that’s hard to let go of,” he says.  

Charlize Theron nods, catching on. “So this movie’s Cameron’s—and your—self-redemption? To heal that emotional scar?”  

Dunn doesn’t feel guilty or anything. He just nods lightly. “Sort of. Same disaster vibe, but in a different country, a different era, you get a different ending. Maybe governments would prefer The Unsinkable.”  

Charlize Theron smirks and rolls her eyes.  

What a load of nonsense!  

Just say it’s to please the audience, to soothe the trauma Titanic left behind, and ride that big ship’s wave to hype this little boat.  

Why not own it?  

Still, even if Dunn’s not being straight with her, she’s thrilled!  

This is her first time seeing the fully edited The Unsinkable. In the script, Liv Tyler was the female lead, and she was the second fiddle.  

But in the final cut? Liv Tyler’s just Matthew McConaughey’s girlfriend—five minutes at the start, then gone.  

Meanwhile, Charlize Theron’s supporting role gets tons of room to shine. In a sea of guy-driven drama, she’s the most captivating, the brightest star.  

Sure, she ditches the glamour to play a grimy oil worker, but for the sake of art’s higher pursuit, she loves it.  

The song fades out. Heath Ledger stops thrashing, accepting the group’s plea. He lets out a primal yell, tears spilling over again.  

The most intense sequence wraps up—then a twenty-story wave roars down!  

If it hits, forget this tiny wooden Coast Guard boat—even a warship would shatter!  

Matthew McConaughey’s “Bernie Webber” scrambles to adjust course, riding the wave instead of fighting it, going with the flow.  

Digital Domain’s effects make the tsunami so real you can almost feel it.  

But even with “Bernie Webber’s” smart moves, the rescue boat slips past the monster wave—what’s next?  

The sea’s pitch black.  

Beyond the damp and salty air, there’s nothing to sense.  

No navigation lights to guide them in this rainy night. This little wooden Coast Guard boat, carrying 36 souls including the crew, drifts on.  

Where to now?  

The future’s still a blur.