350 - Hollywood: Blueprint (Patreon)
Content
350 - A March for Batman
The noise around Evan brought one benefit the people attacking him had not intended. Long before filming was finished, The Departed was being mentioned again and again.
The allegations turned some prospective viewers away. For others, especially fans curious about the crime drama he openly hoped would win an Oscar, the attention made the film harder to ignore.
They wanted to know what a gangster picture made on that scale, and with that ambition, would look like in Evan's hands.
Days passed. In Boston, the crew kept working through its schedule. As the three leads grew more comfortable in their roles, the pace of filming gradually improved.
Warner's publicity department, which had held back while the story developed, finally began answering the most damaging coverage.
It placed rebuttals through outlets willing to carry them and issued a statement warning that the studio's lawyers would challenge claims they considered defamatory. The warning was meant for publications and advocacy groups alike.
By the last days of 1995, Evan remained one of the biggest stories in entertainment news. Even readers who paid little attention to Hollywood could see that the coverage had split into opposing camps.
One set of outlets kept repeating the allegations and urging audiences, sometimes openly and sometimes by implication, to avoid his films.
Others challenged the accusations, replayed earlier interviews with women who knew him, and argued that the public was being shown a version of events shaped to damage him.
A Vanity Fair survey from the previous two years had placed Evan high among famous men readers found attractive. Now some professional women told reporters that, whatever the outcome, they no longer saw him that way.
Tabloids found women willing to say the opposite, or to make provocative remarks about the advantages of dating a billionaire. The selected quotes made good copy; they did not settle the allegations.
The argument held the entertainment pages right up to the new year.
Before then, the CAA agent approached Cameron Diaz and Halle Berry again. At Nina's direction, each sounded interested long enough to learn which projects were being offered, then ended the conversation.
To Nina and Warner, the project names were clues. They suggested which studios might be involved, though they proved nothing about who had organized the campaign.
When Evan heard Universal and Sony Columbia mentioned, he showed no surprise. He put both names on his private list and turned the problem over in his mind whenever filming paused.
On January 1, 1996, Batman Begins finally left North American theaters after a run of more than six months.
Its domestic gross stood at $313.2 million. Worldwide, it had earned roughly $790 million, making it the highest-grossing film of 1995.
That same day, a CNN news crew turned its cameras toward a gathering of Batman fans in Los Angeles.
More than a thousand people had come onto Hollywood Boulevard, many wearing capes, masks, or pieces of Batman armor.
Schroder led the march with a homemade sign. Beneath a painted bat emblem, it carried a message of support for Evan.
"Justice born in darkness isn't afraid of an attack from it."
The event had begun as a quiet walk by committed fans. As it moved along the boulevard, more young people joined. Some recognized the costumes, went home, and returned carrying Batman items they had bought when they saw the film.
By the time the group reached the Walk of Fame, the crowd behind Schroder and Daisy had grown to more than three thousand by the organizers' estimate.
The LAPD responded to a large, unscheduled crowd in a busy public space. Memories of the 1992 unrest had not faded, and officers paid especially close attention to Schroder, the march's Black lead organizer.
More than a hundred officers were sent to manage traffic and keep a route open. Some were called in on what should have been a day off.
The marchers gave them little cause for alarm. They neither shoved through the street nor shouted slogans. The people at the front walked in silence, and those behind followed their lead.
The unusual scene drew cameras quickly. CNN, tipped off about the gathering in advance, sent a satellite truck and began carrying live images to viewers around the country.
"We're on Hollywood Boulevard," a reporter said into her microphone, the satellite truck behind her. "The Walk of Fame is filling with Batman fans."
"Organizers estimate the crowd at more than three thousand. So far there has been no disorder. The marchers are moving calmly and using their costumes and signs to make their point."
The live feed reached homes well beyond Los Angeles. Viewers stopped to watch, and CNN's audience for that part of the afternoon climbed.
"Whose idea was this?"
In his Boston suite, Evan stood in front of the television with his arms folded and looked toward Nina.
He had spent these weeks trying not to follow every story about himself. The point of the campaign, as he saw it, was to weaken his next film. Finishing that film well mattered more than answering every headline.
Arguments could be repeated endlessly. A finished picture, he believed, would make a stronger case for him than another interview.
"Daisy and Schroder, the man leading the march," Nina said, adjusting her glasses. Jennifer was sitting nearby, but Nina did not lower her voice.
"They asked local fans to come out because they wanted a way to speak for themselves. Warner's publicity team tipped off CNN's assignment desk, so the network had a truck ready when the crowd grew."
The images kept rolling. Evan was less pleased than Nina had expected. Since Cameron and Halle had refused the offers, he doubted the attack would keep gathering strength on its own.
As he saw it, Katie's accusation and a succession of hostile opinions would do less damage without a second woman close to him willing to corroborate her. That was his calculation, not a verdict on what Katie had said.
Some women would stop going to his films. He could not prevent that. He also believed his darker work had never relied as heavily on that audience as some other kinds of film did.
Warner had made a similar commercial calculation. Evan thought the next Batman picture could win back viewers who had turned away. He counted on the public's attention moving elsewhere in the meantime.
"This might keep my name in the story longer," he said, shaking his head at the screen. "Still, let it run. At least people will see the fans who haven't gone anywhere."
He treated accusations about his relationships as a reputational problem he could survive, however loudly they were repeated.
He remembered a later era in which such claims could end a powerful man's career. To him, the public mood of 1995 looked less likely to do that. The thought reassured him, though it did nothing to answer the women speaking now.
Executives in that later era had learned that money and rank were not always enough to contain an allegation once it gathered force. Evan knew those stories from his previous life. For the moment, he still believed his own position was different.
He was not the only person watching the broadcast. At Sony Columbia, executive Paul Knight followed the march until CNN cut away to another story.
When the segment ended, he picked up his telephone and hesitated before dialing.
"It's Paul," he said when someone answered. "Don't have that CAA agent approach them again. If offering a role in Men in Black didn't get either woman to bite, leave it alone. As far as we're concerned, it never happened."
He remained by the window after hanging up. Sony Columbia had been willing to press an advantage while Warner and Evan were under pressure. He expected other rivals had made similar calculations.
The effort had not been useless. Evan's reputation had taken a hit, particularly among some women who might once have bought a ticket without hesitation.
But the move Paul had hoped for never came. If Cameron or Halle had spoken against Evan, the effect could have been many times greater. That opportunity now appeared to be gone.