348 - Hollywood: The Studio Gambit (Patreon)

348 - The Two Universes

"What about Martian Manhunter and Cyborg?" the first reporter repeated. "If you're building a Justice League, why leave them out?"

Ethan left the answer to James Wan. They had spent hours on the question. The League's original lineup included Superman, Batman, Wonder Woman, Green Lantern, the Flash, Aquaman, and Martian Manhunter. Readers had also seen enough later lineups to know that any list of seven would start an argument. Making the argument onstage would tell the press nothing about the films.

"We aren't leaving anyone out," James said. "Neither character has an individual film on this first slate. Both can matter in someone else's story. Constantine, for example, gives us room for Zatanna and Doctor Fate. A connected world has to feel inhabited before we gather its heroes in one room."

The reporter wrote that down. Whether the headline would say "not yet" or "never" was beyond James's control.

"How far along are these projects?" a Los Angeles Times reporter asked. "Scripts? Cast? Actual start dates?"

Ethan smiled. "Give them something concrete, James. Our investors are listening too."

The room laughed, though Judy Newhouse did not. She had already had to tell three departments that a development plan was not permission to spend a production budget.

"Drafts for Superman, Wonder Woman, Constantine, and Aquaman are far enough along to begin assembling teams," James said. "The other films are still being written. We've drawn from the comics, but nobody should expect us to reproduce every panel. What works on a page doesn't always work on a screen."

"So four movies are about to start shooting?"

"Four are moving toward the next stage," James said. "That isn't a release-date announcement."

The questions moved to casting. Zack Snyder took the microphone.

"We've spoken to actors we think fit these roles. Henry Cavill is our choice to play Superman, and Gal Gadot is our choice for Wonder Woman. We're also approaching Keanu Reeves about Constantine. Agreements, schedules, and screen tests still have to be completed. Other roles remain open."

He invited actors and their representatives to submit for the open parts. Henry's name caused the most noise. Twilight had made him a star in a matter of weeks, but the photographs currently circulating showed a lean, brooding Edward Cullen, not the Superman many reporters had imagined. Ethan had expected the reaction. He preferred it to having the casting leak before the team could explain its plan.

Kevin Feige took the next round. Iron Man and Captain America had already given Marvel a foundation in this altered calendar. Scripts for Ant-Man and Thor were ready for the next production reviews. Hulk, Spider-Man, and the X-Men were among the characters Kevin wanted to bring into a connected slate.

A reporter interrupted before he could go further. "Sony has its own Spider-Man films. Fox is making a third X-Men film. Universal still has a say in Hulk. Are you announcing deals with them, or competing films?"

Kevin looked to the Russo brothers. Anthony answered.

"We're announcing a creative direction, not pretending contracts have disappeared. Marvel has frameworks for discussions with Sony and Fox and is working through the Universal questions. Until those agreements are signed, we don't have a separate Spider-Man or X-Men production to announce."

"What would you do if the rights were cleared?"

"Tell stories in our continuity," Joe said. "Tobey Maguire's Peter Parker belongs to the Sony films. That doesn't mean every screen version of Peter has to share his history. Comics readers know the Ultimate line and the main Marvel universe can use familiar people in different ways. We'd make that distinction clear to moviegoers."

"Two Spider-Men at once? Wouldn't that confuse people?"

"It would if we copied the same film," Anthony said. "Different casts and stories would have to justify themselves. First we need the legal agreements, and then we need films worth making."

The answer disappointed anyone hoping for a surprise contract. It also gave the reporters an accurate one: Ethan could buy a studio without buying Sony's or Fox's licenses out from under them.

At the end of the conference, Ethan returned to the microphone with a plan of his own.

"MGM and the Warner studio now have enough stories to fill more than theaters," he said. "We're forming a company to develop theme parks around the properties we can use: superheroes, The Matrix, Harry Potter, Transformers, and, through agreements with Lucasfilm, Star Wars and Indiana Jones."

Someone immediately asked whether he meant to challenge Disney.

"A family should have more than one place it wants to go," Ethan said. "Existing license obligations will be honored. When Lucasfilm's current arrangements expire, we can decide what makes sense for Star Wars without assuming a renewal."

He had not selected a site or broken ground. Judy knew how many years a park could swallow before its first visitor bought a ticket. Still, the announcement said where Ethan meant to compete next. Disney had watched MGM contest its films. Now it had to imagine MGM building somewhere families might spend an entire vacation.

The markets reacted before an architect could draw a gate. MGM shares rose on the studio plan and the park proposal; Disney shares slipped as investors tried to price a rival that existed, for the moment, only on paper. Warner itself was not a separately traded studio for the press to quote. The sharp numbers in the afternoon reports belonged to its new owner and to the company Ethan had named as his target.

Actors had more immediate concerns. Some of the announced leads were effectively spoken for, but every film would need supporting players. Casting offices began receiving calls before the ballroom had emptied.

Fans split over the names. Could the young man from Twilight carry Superman? Would Keanu's Constantine resemble the comics' hard-bitten occult detective? Could Gal make Wonder Woman feel formidable rather than merely polished? Ethan read the arguments and asked the publicity teams to wait for the camera tests.

Almost two weeks later, DC released three images. Henry appeared first in a black suit, then in a deep blue one with a red cape. The training and lighting gave him a harder silhouette than Edward Cullen's. Keanu wore a worn tan trench coat and sat at a bar, looking as if he had spent the night bargaining with someone he should never have met. Gal held a shield and sword over red-and-gold armor, the Lasso of Truth at her hip. Nothing in her stance asked the camera to make her look harmless.

The photos did not end every objection. They did replace vague arguments about faces with arguments about the actual designs. Ethan preferred that.

Marvel followed with a Black Widow camera test. Scarlett Johansson's dark suit and red hair made an immediate impression. The discussion online ranged from questions about her combat work to comments the publicity team would never put in an advertisement. One bathwater joke spread farther than the photographs themselves.

Judy sent Ethan a selection of the posts. "The heroes have an audience," she said. "Now the movies have to earn it."

He put down the phone. Tomorrow's casting sessions would be a better test of that promise than another afternoon of reading headlines.