274-276

Chapter 274: Signs of a Blockbuster 

Horror movies are a breed apart from every other film genre. 

Outside of die-hard fans, it’s rare for casual moviegoers to buy tickets just to see a scare-fest. That’s why horror theaters in the U.S. are even scarcer than art-house cinemas. 

From a mainstream perspective, horror films have the smallest audience. But zoom out to the big picture, and they’re the most universal genre out there! In the VHS and DVD rental markets, horror has always been a top seller. 

Even timid little girls, too shy to admit it, sometimes feel that itch of curiosity and defiance. They’ll lock themselves in at home, turn off the lights, pull the curtains, curl up with a pillow, and pop in a horror flick on the couch. 

That’s the magic of horror! 

Even a juggernaut like Titanic doesn’t get that kind of “formal” viewing treatment very often. 

So horror films occupy a weird niche. Most are low-budget, low-effort affairs—slapped together with cheap thrills, gore galore, and in-your-face visuals. Even in dedicated horror theaters, they’re usually one-and-done, yanked after a week. 

But when a rare classic comes along? That’s a different story. 

If word of mouth catches fire, it can set the whole country ablaze! 

An action buff might not sit through a romance like Gone with the Wind, but horror? It’s a universal itch everyone’s got buried somewhere. Take last year’s Final Destination and The Blair Witch Project—both raked in solid box office hauls. 

Fear is that emotion we all dread yet secretly crave to confront. 

That’s why Saw’s lackluster preview-day ticket sales didn’t faze anyone. Its glowing audience buzz was the real golden ticket to its future! 

If hardcore horror fans could build its rep and spark a small-scale frenzy—enough to catch the eye of theater chains and push Saw into a full North American rollout—success would fall into place naturally. 

October 30th: Saw’s preview kicked off with $13,759 in ticket sales and an 85% approval rating! 

October 31st: Day two of previews brought in just $789, but the approval rating bucked the trend, climbing to 87%! 

November 1st: Halloween hit, and U.S. horror theaters officially rolled out Saw. The theater count jumped from 20 to 78 overnight! 

… 

Zack Snyder was a nervous wreck. Saw was his first film, after all. 

Think about it—his classmate Michael Bay was already a Hollywood heavyweight, cranking out commercial hits and even snagging a global box office crown! Bay’s partner? None other than Jerry Bruckheimer, the industry’s golden producer. 

Their latest Disney collab, Pearl Harbor, was all the media could talk about. It gnawed at Zack, leaving him restless and a little bitter. 

Sure, they were classmates, but Zack and Michael Bay didn’t get along. Back in 1994, Bay was already making waves with Bad Boys—a smash hit that launched Will Smith into action stardom. Zack, chasing his own movie dreams, reached out to his old buddy for a leg up. 

Bay brushed him off. 

With Bay’s clout as a top-tier director, hooking Zack up with a small-budget horror gig wouldn’t have been hard. But the guy didn’t lift a finger. 

So Zack kept grinding in the VFX world, tinkering with visuals, until he met his big break—Dunn Walker. 

Saw might just be a low-budget B-movie, but it was the real start of his filmmaking journey! There was no room for failure—not just for his own dreams, but for the faith Dunn had put in him. 

On Halloween, Zack roped in his new buddy—and fellow Dunn Films signee—Christopher Nolan to hit the theater with him and soak in the moment. 

Nolan could see Zack’s nerves a mile away and kept reassuring him on the way. “Zack, the movie’s getting great buzz. You don’t need to stress so much!” 

Zack sighed. “The buzz is good, sure, but will it turn into ticket sales?” 

Nolan shook his head. “As long as you’re proud of it and the audience digs it, that’s what counts. Box office? That’s a bonus—let it happen.” 

Zack huffed. “Easy for you to say, Chris! Your Memento cost $5 million and pulled nearly $20 million in North America. You’re set. If this flops, my career’s toast!” 

By all accounts, Memento was on track to net Dunn Films at least $20 million in profit—a 400% return. Not too shabby. 

Nolan frowned. “It’s not that bad, is it? Dunn’s got your back—he loves your work. Plus, he wrote this thing. You’ve got to trust him, right?” 

Zack let out a long breath. “Who knows? I hope so. Speaking of—any word on your next project?” 

Nolan hesitated, like he wasn’t sure how much to spill. 

Zack raised an eyebrow. “Top secret?” 

“Depends on what Dunn decides,” Nolan said with a chuckle. 

Truth was, Dunn had dropped some hints about a new gig—something big, maybe even a Marvel superhero flick. A massive commercial blockbuster! But Nolan wasn’t sold on it yet—it felt too far-fetched. 

He’d never tackled a big-budget movie. His last two indie flicks didn’t tank, but they didn’t exactly light the world on fire either. Memento’s North American haul topped out around $25 million—solid, but not blockbuster material. 

That kind of track record didn’t scream “ready for a tentpole.” Even Nolan doubted himself. 

Zack gave him a long look. “You know, Mr. Walker said something to me too—after Saw, I’d do a couple more films to cut my teeth, then move up to a big one. A Marvel superhero movie.” 

“What?” Nolan blinked, stunned. 

Zack waved it off. “Anyway, that’s down the road. Let’s get through this first! Come on, we’re pitching in for Saw’s box office!” 

Nolan cracked up. 

Neither of them were famous yet—no public spotlight—so they could stroll in like regular guys. But when they got to the theater, the sight of two long lines stopped them cold. 

“Hey, man, what’s going on here?” Zack asked a young guy in line. 

“Buying tickets!” the kid groaned, looking defeated. “Looks like we’re stuck waiting for the next show.” 

“You’re all here for Saw?” 

“Yeah! Wait—you’re not? Dude, trust me, as a guy, you’ve got to see this movie. Saw is insane! I heard two people got scared to death watching it yesterday!” 

“Scared to death?” Zack bit back a laugh. That had to be the $1 million marketing hype at work. 

Sure enough, a group of rowdy teens swaggered over. “Yo, let’s catch Saw! I saw it last night—wild stuff…” 

“A horror flick?” 

“Yup, horror! Way better than It or Scream. Uh, unless you’re chicken—it’s freaky as hell!” 

“No way I’m scared! Fine, let’s do it. What’s it called?” 

“Saw!” 

“Seriously? This many people lining up?” 

“Ha! Doesn’t that just prove it’s awesome?” 

… 

Zack stood off to the side, dazed, listening to the teens’ loud chatter. His heart felt like it was dipped in honey—sweet and warm. 

Nolan grinned and clapped him on the shoulder. “Looks like we don’t need to boost the box office after all!” 

“Yeah, they can’t keep up with demand…” Zack muttered, tears of joy welling up. 

Saw—his first film—was it really about to take off? 

Nolan glanced at the growing lines. “We should tell the company to prep more prints.” 

Zack blinked, then laughed. “Chris, Mr. Walker’s way ahead of us. Before previews even started, he had 2,500 copies ready!” 

“What?” Nolan gaped, sucking in a breath before nodding in awe. “Yeah, Dunn… he’s got the guts for this!” 

Zack sighed. “Maybe that’s why he’s achieved so much so young.” 

Nolan burst out laughing. “Zack, you jealous?” 

“Jealous?” Zack chuckled, shaking his head. “No way. If I’m jealous of anyone, it’s you, Chris. Mr. Walker’s on a level we can’t even touch.” 

Nolan’s face turned serious, and he nodded solemnly. 

Yeah, Dunn’s heights? They didn’t even have the right to be jealous. 

“Ha, whatever—Saw’s about to blow up! Come on, my place. I’ve got a 30-year-old whiskey stashed away. Let’s celebrate!” Nolan grabbed Zack’s arm, buzzing with excitement. 

Zack glanced back at the lines—the thrilled fans clutching their tickets—and felt the same rush. 

What a thrill! 

Chapter 275: No Grudge Too Small 

In North America, theaters can tweak showtimes and seating daily, but scaling up a film’s release happens on a weekly cycle. So, if Saw wanted a bigger rollout, it had to prove itself during Halloween week to win over the theater chains. 

November 1st, Wednesday: 78 theaters, averaging 34 attendees per showing, raking in $1.21 million for the day. 

November 2nd, Thursday: attendance dipped to 21 per showing, pulling in $0.8 million. 

November 3rd, Friday: with the weekend kicking in, Saw hit a viewing surge—29 attendees per showing, 12 screenings per theater on average, and a daily haul of $1.47 million!  

Specialty horror chains were all in, boosting Saw’s screening rate to a wild 674%. And this was during Halloween’s mini-season, with over a dozen horror flicks in play! 

“Not bad…”  

By Saturday, the A Beautiful Mind crew took their usual break, and Dunn jetted back to L.A. early to check Saw’s box office numbers. Sure, $0.35 million daily wasn’t much next to blockbuster hauls, but for a test-screening kickoff, it was a solid start. At the very least, it was wiping the floor with every other horror flick in its slot! 

Back at Dunn Films, he found Vice President of Distribution West Cotton, Rampage Films President Glenn Morgan, and director Zack Snyder waiting in his office. 

“Zack, first off—congrats!” Dunn said, half-joking. 

Zack Snyder looked flustered, almost overwhelmed. “Mr. Walker, I can’t thank you enough for your support and trust! Saw’s just a small win—nothing worth bragging about.” 

Dunn waved it off with a smirk. “Nothing worth bragging about? Come on, I’m counting on Saw to take down Disney’s Unbreakable!” 

Zack’s face twitched. He’d heard whispers around the company but never bought it. Now Dunn was saying it himself? 

“What? No faith?” Dunn pressed. 

“I… uh…” Zack stammered. 

West Cotton chuckled. “Zack, this is company strategy—nothing to do with you. As a director, just keep your focus on the film itself.” 

Dunn nodded. “Exactly. Zack, you get the Resident Evil game figured out yet? That’s your next gig, and it’s not some low-budget B-movie this time.” 

Glenn Morgan’s expression soured a bit. Rampage Films was all about churning out flicks under $5 million, but Resident Evil? A big-action horror spectacle. The production team pegged its budget at no less than $30 million! A mid-tier project like that would likely go straight to Dunn Films’ main production arm—high priority, no question. 

Zack Snyder fidgeted. “Mr. Walker, I’ve had that game nailed for ages. But Resident Evil… it’s a big investment. Shouldn’t we hold off?” 

“No need!” Dunn cut him off with a grand gesture. “Zack, this is the path I’ve set for you. Whether Saw blows up or not, Resident Evil is yours. I’ve said it before—you’re headed for mainstream blockbusters. I’m betting you can shoulder the load and carry Dunn Films’ future!” 

Zack was practically tripping over his words. “Sir, this…” 

“Relax, Zack,” West Cotton said, clapping his shoulder with a grin. “You don’t know the boss yet? Once he’s set on something—or someone—he sticks to it. And don’t feel too flattered—those Brits, Sam Mendes and Christopher Nolan, are getting just as much love.” 

As a top strategist at the company, West Cotton had a clear read on Dunn’s network game. Inside, he was building a crew of promising mid-career directors—Christopher Nolan, Sam Mendes, Zack Snyder, Tim Burton, Luc Besson, Ang Lee, even M. Night Shyamalan (still tied to Disney for now). Outside, Dunn had locked in the “Aussie crew,” cozied up to the British film scene, and lately started flirting with France and Spain, pulling Europe into his orbit. 

Dunn Films might lack Hollywood roots, but with these moves, he was fast-tracking a massive network and carving out his own turf. 

“Alright, let’s talk next week’s rollout,” Dunn said, shifting gears. “With this box office trend, how many more theaters can Saw snag?” 

West Cotton jumped in. “Horror’s niche, but the fans are die-hard. Word spreads quick, and it hooks curious viewers fast. Saw’s got solid attendance and screening rates right now. If the weekend doesn’t tank, we could add 1,500 theaters next week, no problem!” 

“Oh?” Dunn’s eyebrow ticked up as he locked eyes with him. “You sure?” 

West hesitated slightly. 

“Hm?” 

“Here’s the deal,” West explained. “Adding 1,500 theaters makes sense on paper. But the real number depends on the chains’ internal reviews and their relationships. For a blockbuster, they’d adjust without blinking. Personal favors wouldn’t matter.” 

Dunn caught on. “But for a small-fry horror flick like Saw, they might tweak things to kiss up to the distributor?” 

West nodded firmly. “Exactly. It boils down to Focus Features being too green. I haven’t had time to build the connections.” 

Dunn waved it off. “Not your fault. Focus has only been ours for two months—you’ve done solid work already.” 

Zack Snyder picked up a vibe. “Wait… is someone trying to mess with Saw?” 

West shot him a look, and Zack clammed up quick. 

Dunn just smirked. 

Mess with him? These days, who’d dare pull that kind of stunt on Dunn so blatantly? 

… 

Saturday rolled in, and Saw’s buzz was cooking. Average per-theater take topped $3,000, with a daily total of $2.57 million! Sunday kept the heat on—some theaters even had hardcore fans showing up in packs, chanting the film’s iconic line: “Too many people lack gratitude for survival, but you never will.” That day, the 78 theaters pulled in another $2.15 million. 

The numbers might not scream “huge,” but in the weekend’s North American horror circuit, Saw claimed a monster 71.8% of the total box office. That said it all—this was the standout horror flick of the moment! 

Then, bam—trouble hit. 

Just like West Cotton had warned. 

The theater chains sent word: next week, Saw would scale up from 78 to 867 theaters, and Focus Features needed to ship the prints ASAP. A decent jump, sure, but nowhere near the 1,500 they’d hoped for. 

The reason? Obvious. 

Saw didn’t get the expansion it deserved, while Miramax’s old Hong Kong flick Drunken Master somehow scored a bigger rollout. Miramax—technically independent but a Disney subsidiary, under the thumb of Disney’s production wing. 

Dunn took the news calmly. 

Saw was an indie flick, and Disney’s clout leaned toward mainstream blockbusters. They didn’t have much pull in indie distribution circles, but Miramax? They ruled that game. Dunn had refused to sell Chicago’s rights to them, so of course Harvey Weinstein was pulling strings behind the scenes, flexing his connections to kneecap Saw’s theater bump. 

Still, 867 theaters wasn’t terrible. 

But Dunn wasn’t swallowing this quietly. 

“Harvey Weinstein? Miramax?” A cold smirk crept onto his face. 

With Weinstein’s industry juice, taking him down head-on was a tall order—unless Dunn went nuclear and leaked the “casting couch” and actress-coercion scandals through the press. But that’d torch Hollywood’s image, and Dunn was too seasoned now to play that card. He’d bide his time. A guy like Weinstein would dig his own grave eventually. 

For now, though? 

“I love nothing more than screwing someone over, even if it doesn’t help me one bit!” 

Yup—Dunn never let a grudge slide! 

Chapter 276: I’m Stealing This One! 

Leonardo DiCaprio’s personality was wild—his private life even more reckless than Dunn’s, if that was possible. 

He ran a late-night bar in L.A., complete with strip shows, mostly to ensure he could flirt with girls in peace, free from paparazzi hassles. 

It was daytime now, and the bar wasn’t open yet. Just a sixty-something old man named Kane manned the counter. 

At the bar sat two of Hollywood’s most notorious young guns—Dunn Walker and Leonardo DiCaprio. 

The place was dead quiet, staff keeping their distance, sneaking curious, awestruck glances their way. 

“This is Kane,” Leonardo said. “He was our neighbor growing up—always good to me. After his wife passed and his kids moved out, I brought him to L.A. to help me out.” 

Dunn nodded. “Makes sense. Hanging out with younger folks might keep him spry. His hearing, though?” 

“Got messed up in Vietnam—shrapnel from a shell. He could hear okay back in the day, but now even hearing aids don’t do much,” Leonardo said with a sigh. 

Dunn’s face turned respectful. He raised his glass toward Kane in a silent toast. 

Leonardo grinned. “So, what’s the rush to see me? If it’s about girls, you picked the wrong time—my crew’s all night shift.” 

“Cut the crap!” Dunn shot him a look. “It’s serious.” 

“A movie?” 

“What else? You think I’d drag you out to talk venture capital?” 

Leonardo chuckled, then his face shifted, voice rising. “Dunn, don’t tell me it’s Gangs of New York?” 

Dunn looked a little sheepish. “Yeah, Gangs of New York. I think it’s worth investing in.” 

A month back, Leonardo had told Dunn he’d been offered a role in Martin Scorsese’s Gangs of New York. The cast was stacked—Daniel Day-Lewis and Cameron Diaz—and the script was killer, with juicy roles to sink your teeth into. 

The catch? Scorsese was leaning toward partnering with Miramax. 

With Dunn Films’ ban on Disney still in place, Leonardo didn’t want to stab his buddy in the back. 

Back then, Dunn had tried to talk him out of it. Gangs of New York didn’t snag Leonardo an Oscar nod, and slashing his pay for it wasn’t worth it. 

He wasn’t wrong. As a historical drama, Gangs was dark, violent, dull, and heavy-handed. Scorsese aimed for operatic grandeur, but the plodding story dragged it down. 

Sure, it had masterful cinematography, and Daniel Day-Lewis and Leonardo delivered powerhouse performances—visually stunning stuff. But it wasn’t Scorsese’s finest hour. 

Plus, if they greenlit it now, it’d hit theaters in late 2002—right after 9/11. Anything violent would take a backseat, and Gangs would get delayed. Movies have a shelf life; miss the window, and the buzz dies. 

So Dunn passed on it, and Scorsese turned to Harvey Weinstein. 

Gangs of New York was niche as hell, but its budget ballooned to $100 million! And that wasn’t all—Scorsese, Day-Lewis, Leonardo, and Diaz demanded 10% of the global box office on top of their fees. 

In all of Hollywood, only two guys had the guts for that kind of gamble: Dunn Walker and Harvey Weinstein. 

As for Dunn Films’ Disney blacklist? Sorry, for a director like Scorsese, it was meaningless. 

Now, things had shifted. If Harvey Weinstein was so keen on this, Dunn didn’t mind swooping in to snatch it. 

Taking Harvey down outright? With his clout, that was a pipe dream. But throwing a wrench in his plans? Dunn was all over that. 

Leonardo was pissed. “Dunn, what the hell are you playing at?” 

Dunn didn’t sugarcoat it. “I don’t want Miramax anywhere near this project!” 

Among Scorsese’s films, Gangs wasn’t a Taxi Driver or Raging Bull, but it still cleaned up—$19 million worldwide, 10 Oscar nods, the works. 

More importantly, it kicked off a Scorsese-Miramax partnership that led to hits like The Aviator. Dunn wasn’t about to let that happen. 

Hearing this, Leonardo softened, lowering his voice. “Harvey… pissed you off again?” 

Dunn snorted. “I’ll bury that bastard someday!” 

“I’m with you, man,” Leonardo said with a sly grin, then frowned. “But I already turned Martin down. I couldn’t sign with Miramax and screw you over.” 

Dunn laughed. “No worries. Today, we’re teaming up to steal it back!” 

“Gonna be tough, huh?” Leonardo furrowed his brow. “I heard Martin and Harvey already shook on it.” 

“It’s not locked in yet—maybe a draft contract, maybe just a handshake. Doesn’t count,” Dunn said, brushing it off. “I’ve got a meeting with Martin lined up. He should be here soon.” 

“What? Here?” 

“Yeah, I figured a couple drinks here, some work talk—nice and chill, right?” 

Leonardo shook his head, smirking wickedly. “You’ve never been here at night. Come by sometime—I’ll show you what chill really means!” 

Dunn scoffed. “I’m not into those working girls!” 

Leonardo rolled his eyes. “You’re missing out. Pros know their craft—top-tier enjoyment! Man, you don’t get life.” 

“Nah, I’ll stick to stars,” Dunn muttered, voice barely audible, even with no one nearby and Kane half-deaf. 

“Stars?” Leonardo smirked, whispering, “Those actresses? Not exactly cleaner than my girls.” 

Dunn coughed lightly. “It’s about picking the best, you know? I’ve got it under control.” 

… 

Half an hour later, Martin Scorsese—pushing sixty, sporting a black top hat and leaning on a black cane—ambled into the bar. 

“Hey, Martin! Over here!” Leonardo waved like they were old drinking buddies, all casual and loud. 

Dunn, respecting his elders, stood up and walked over with a grin. “Martin, with that getup, put on a few pounds and you’d be Churchill reincarnated!” 

Scorsese chuckled. “I thought you’d chew me out the second I walked in!” 

“Why’s that?” 

“You don’t know?” Scorsese glanced at him. “I’ve been talking to Miramax about a project lately.” 

Leonardo burst out laughing. “Martin, you nailed it—that’s exactly why Dunn dragged you here!” 

“Oh?” 

Dunn shot Leonardo a glare. What a teammate—total liability! 

He’d prepped a whole pitch to win Scorsese over, and Leonardo just torched it with one line. 

No choice now—Dunn had to wing it. “Here’s the deal: I want Gangs of New York.” 

Scorsese gave him a long look. “Kid, you’re late to the party.” 

“Not if it hasn’t started filming. There’s still time,” Dunn said, guiding him toward the bar. “A classic needs a top-notch studio behind it.” 

Scorsese ordered a stiff tequila, shaking his head. “No dice. I gave him my word.” 

Old-school guys like him cared about honor. 

Dunn grinned. “Simple—let’s bid for it!” 

Leonardo slammed the table. “Yeah, that’s the word—bid! Ha! Dunn’s got cash to burn—Miramax doesn’t stand a chance!” 

Scorsese’s eyes twitched. He downed a big gulp of tequila like it was water—total boozehound—and said calmly, “Harvey’s offering $80 million for it.” 

Leonardo blinked. 

For a movie like Gangs, $80 million was hefty. 

Dunn, though, was thrilled inside. 

In his past life, Gangs cost $100 million. If Scorsese was saying $80 million now, that extra $20 million must’ve come later in production. That gave Dunn an edge. 

“That Harvey’s a jerk!” Dunn slammed the table, faking outrage. “Martin, you’re a Hollywood legend, and Gangs is your decades-long passion project. $80 million? That’s an insult!” 

Scorsese smirked. “Nice try, Dunn, but your stirring-the-pot game’s weak.” 

Dunn shook his head, all resolve. “Here’s my offer: team up with Dunn Films for Gangs, and I’ll bump the budget by $20 million—no, $40 million!” 

$40 million more! 

His voice rang out, firm and final. 

Leonardo gawked at him, speechless. “That’s… $120 million, Dunn. You’re not kidding, right?” 

Disney’s all-in blockbuster Pearl Harbor was $140 million. But Gangs, a historical war drama, getting $120 million? Insane! 

Even Scorsese, cool as a cucumber since he walked in, looked stunned, eyes wide with shock.