In the bustling heart of Burbank, at Davis Film and Television Studios, the atmosphere was charged with a blend of anticipation and strategy.
Rita, the head of the public relations team, confidently briefed Martin on the Oscar campaign. "We've reached out to every actor and actress in the Academy across North America. For the acting awards, their votes are crucial. I'm positive you'll secure an Oscar nomination."
Martin nodded, absorbing the information with a measured expression.
Thomas, ever direct, cut to the chase. "And the chances of actually winning?"
Rita, a paragon of honesty, didn't sugarcoat her response. "At best, 60%. While Martin's performance is lauded, the film's thematic limitations are hard to overlook."
Unfazed, Martin responded with determination, "Keep up the lobbying and publicity. Once the Academy ballots are out, let's invest heavily in influential publications like the New York Times and Vanity Fair for soft advertising articles." He added, ensuring alignment, "I've been in constant contact with Rita's team."
Rita excused herself, leaving the office.
Thomas then shifted the topic to upcoming engagements. "Cartier's scheduled a shoot for the ad campaign near the old pier in Santa Monica. Here's the script, it's straightforward."
Martin perused the script briefly. It was simple, with about a dozen scenes. "This could be wrapped up in a day, two at the most," he mused.
Thomas added, "Cartier's publicizing the shoot as part of their marketing strategy. It's standard for endorsements."
Martin agreed without hesitation, "I'll be there on time."
As Thomas prepared to respond to Cartier, Martin checked his watch. "We should head to Century City Plaza. Warner Bros. has a 'Dark Knight' DVD promotional event today."
On the way, Martin skimmed through several newspapers in the car. The business and entertainment sections buzzed with news of the Cartier shoot at Santa Monica's old pier, a clear signal to the media to cover the event.
Understanding the game, Martin acknowledged Cartier's need to maximize their $10 million annual endorsement investment.
Upon arriving at Century City Shopping Plaza, Martin joined forces with Nolan, rallying support for the 'Dark Knight' DVD sales. The DVD market, though overshadowed by streaming media's rise, still promised long-term royalties for Martin. Even in an era where DVDs waned, significant sales were possible, ensuring a steady income for years to come.
In the bustling epicenter of Hollywood, circa 2010, the DVD era was in full swing. Blockbusters like "Spider-Man 3" and "The Lord of the Rings: The Return of the King" saw DVD sales that rivaled, and sometimes even surpassed, their North American box office revenues.
At Warner Bros., three distinct versions of "The Dark Knight" DVD had hit the shelves: a standard edition priced at $19.99, a Blu-ray HD version for $29.99, and a collector's Blu-ray edition at $64.99. Each came with the option of a behind-the-scenes disc and a choice of collector's items, Joker, Batman, or the Batmobile models. Remarkably, nearly 70% of sales were dominated by the clown model.
The film's success continued to break records, not just at the box office but also in the home video market. On its release day, the two Blu-ray versions alone sold over 800,000 copies. Including regular DVD sales, "The Dark Knight" smashed the previous record held by "Pirates of the Caribbean: Dead Man's Chest," raking in $66.45 million. And this didn't even include rental figures.
In its first week, the DVD sales in North America soared to $155 million, setting another record. This was indeed the era of DVD sales phenomena.
Martin, reflecting on his previous life, remembered how "Avatar" had eclipsed these records. In just four days, "Avatar's" Blu-ray sales had surpassed "The Dark Knight's" year-and-a-half cumulative sales. On its DVD release day in North America, "Avatar" sold more than 3.2 million copies across various editions.
Martin recalled his earlier interactions with "Avatar." The crew had reached out to Thomas before openly recruiting actors, but James Cameron had directly rejected Martin's involvement. Cameron had been clear in his vision, preferring to invest heavily in special effects over A-list stars.
The next day, Martin postponed another "The Dark Knight" promotional event to visit Paramount Studios. The "Benjamin" project required additional motion capture scenes. After a day of intense work, Martin sought out David Fincher in the studio's rest area.
Handing over the partial manuscript of "Gone Girl," Martin explained, "This is the novel about love and marriage I mentioned before. I was waiting for Gillian, the author, to complete the latest part."
David Fincher, intrigued, delved into the manuscript, quickly becoming engrossed in its suspenseful and dark narrative, a style he was renowned for.
Martin sipped his tea, waiting patiently as Fincher read. When Fincher reached a pivotal moment with the heroine's debut, he couldn't help but chuckle, a reaction mirroring Martin's own.
"This novel is fascinating, a blend of dark suspense and black humor," Fincher remarked.
Martin, setting down his teacup, inquired, "So, you've reached the part where the heroine makes her official entrance?"
Fincher nodded, "Yes, it's brilliant."
Understanding Martin's intent, Fincher was straightforward. "Can you give me some time? I need to wrap up 'Benjamin' and think about how to adapt this. I need to consider if it's right for me."
Martin reassured him, "Take all the time you need, David. I can wait even a year."
With the novel's completion and publication still pending, Martin knew there was ample time for Fincher to make his decision.
Fincher, meticulous as ever, handed back the manuscript. "I'll get in touch when I'm ready."
Martin nodded in agreement, "Alright." The collaboration between these two creative minds promised something extraordinary on the horizon.
Under the fading twilight at Santa Monica Commercial Plaza, an impromptu stage, erected by the "Knights" crew, buzzed with activity. Christian Bale and Christopher Nolan, amid a sea of eager fans, engaged in a lively Q&A session.
Among the crowd, Boris, now beardless and inconspicuous, sat on a bench. He had waited all afternoon, hoping to spot his target, but to no avail.
Victor approached, his steps measured, and took a seat beside Boris. "Boss, he probably won't show up," he said, his voice tinged with certainty.
Boris, puzzled, inquired, "What's the situation?"
Victor leaned in, whispering, "I just learned from an entertainment reporter in Joker disguise. Martin Davis postponed the event."
Frustration etched on his face, Boris stood abruptly. "Notify everyone to withdraw," he commanded. Their well-laid plans had come to naught.
Back in their car, the bearded man vented his anger. "These Hollywood stars, no professional ethics! Always changing plans. Superficial bastards!" He caught Boris's glance and fell silent.
Victor drove them back to a rented house in Santa Monica. Soon, two other cars arrived discreetly at the back door, and the bodyguards, along with five others, slipped inside quietly.
The newcomers carried bags containing long guns, which Boris instructed them to stow away. A blond man commented, "Boss, these old American firearms are tricky. We should've gotten AK series."
Boris responded tersely, "This is the U.S., not Russia. Use what you can get!"
Victor chimed in, "The AR series is user-friendly. Get used to it."
The Russian underground in Los Angeles had been under LAPD scrutiny since an incident at Burbank Middle School. Boris, Victor, and their companions, unable to find reliable contacts, were forced to procure firearms through a middleman in the black market, settling for the costly AR series.
Adapting was part of operating in foreign territory. For instance, of the dozen men intended to join them, six were turned back at customs due to their records.
"We can't delay any further," Boris asserted, his impatience growing. "We must resolve this quickly. I can't stand another day in this damn country."
Victor, who had been perusing the newspaper, spoke up, "Boss, in two days, Martin Davis is shooting a Cartier commercial at Santa Monica Pier."
Boris, skeptical, asked, "Are you sure? Not another false alarm?"
Victor reassured him, "It's confirmed by Martin Davis's agent, officially announced by Cartier."
The bearded man spread a map on the table, pointing to the pier. "The old dock is here."
Boris studied the map, then questioned Victor, "Can we escape by sea to our safe house?"
Victor nodded, "I'll scout the area. Arranging a speedboat and car in advance shouldn't be an issue."
Boris, gripping a Coke bottle, took a long swig. "Capture him alive. Injure, but don't kill. I want to use these bottles to crush his head, one by one." The tension in the room was palpable, a stark contrast to the lively scene they had left behind at the plaza.