Shooting the laborious action scenes incurred substantial expenses and inevitably led to some actors colliding with one another. Martin himself didn't remained unscathed, but several stunt doubles bore multiple bruises.
Such incidents were commonplace on set, and the stuntmen were accustomed to it.
Another grueling action scene was successfully filmed, though Martin remained unfazed while the stand-ins panted from exhaustion.
Ajia's voice had grown hoarse from constant shouting, and she instructed her assistant, "Let them rest for an hour."
Three stuntmen, closely resembling Martin in physique, along with two stuntmen playing perverted roles, gathered at the rest area, showing no eagerness to continue.
Martin personally fetched Gatorade for each of them and said, "Guys, replenish your energy."
"You've endured as much as we have, so take a break," joked the stand-in named Buck, who, despite having developed a muscular physique, had sadly lost his hair at the age of fifteen. He chuckled, "Martin, you've got quite the stamina."
Sitting on a chair, Martin playfully flexed his arms, gesturing to his bulging muscles, and declared, "Remember? I'm the best fighter on the crew."
When men engaged in casual conversation, bragging was par for the course. "Have you seen my machine gun dance? I've got the best endurance," boasted Martin.
A Special actor Lorde chimed in, "I was watching the Saturn Awards with my wife. During the live broadcast, she saw you dancing and teased me, saying you're a tougher guy compared to me. Back then, I thought if I ever met you, I'd definitely give you a good beating and break your gun." Martin feigned horror, "Man, don't mess with my brother; you might break your hand hitting him!"
Lewis, another Martin stand-in, admitted, "Martin, I'll concede that you have the best physical strength and fighting skills in the entire crew. But you're most definitely ranked number one for shamelessness."
Laughter erupted from the group.
Martin adopted a serious tone, "Do you know the most widely circulated saying in Atlanta? Everyone's envious of Martin, and everyone wants to be Martin."
Clearing his throat, he added, "Let me share some good news. We're throwing a beach party with the crew next door this weekend." Lorde's eyes lit up, "Really?"
Buck chimed in, "Next door's got plenty of beautiful girls."
Martin suggested, "How about we form a squad to impress the ladies?"
"Nope, I'd rather keep my distance," Lewis pragmatically pointed out. "If I hang out with you, all the pretty girls will flock to you, and we'll be left with the leftovers."
After some lighthearted banter, Bruce arrived and informed Martin that Sophia was looking for him.
Martin, with Bruce in tow, reassured him, "Don't worry, as long as I'm around, she won't dare to do anything to you."
Bruce, though tense, couldn't resist taunting, "You're actually worried about what she'll do to you, aren't you?"
Two guilty-looking men soon found Sophia at the studio's entrance.
The formidable Sophia, dressed in a tank top and shorts that showcased her muscles, announced, "I'm ready to head back to Atlanta."
Bruce's legs involuntarily tightened and then relaxed.
"To the crew, both of you, be on your best behavior and don't stir up any trouble," Sophia cautioned. Her thoughts then drifted to the overweight man in Los Angeles who had caused issues. "If that's the guy, that ugly fat man, and he dares to make trouble, call me, and I'll personally handle him!"
"No problem," Martin assured confidently. If Weinstein caused any issues, he'd promptly summon Sophia.
Sophia's gaze swept across Bruce's face, making him nervous. Bruce grabbed Martin's arm, suddenly fearing that this unreliable scoundrel might betray him.
Martin simply said, "Goodbye."
"Let's go," Sophia beckoned to Scott and departed from the studio.
Scott followed behind, adopting an unfamiliar gait.
As Martin and Bruce walked back, they passed by the refreshments area, where two stage managers were engaged in a spirited discussion.
Their voices were noticeably raised, one stating, "Did you see that? Our crew's Martin is exceptional in action scenes. He's the best in the whole crew."
The other quipped, "We've got an even better one over there."
Someone from the neighboring crew chimed in, "He used to be the best in their crew. They were shooting a film like 'The Texas Chainsaw Massacre.' You know what the director said? If he's on the hunt, those Iraqi enemies wouldn't stand a chance."
The previous scene's director interjected, "Anyone can brag."
The neighbor continued, "You might not know, but before he became an actor, he was a professional boxer. When he first entered the industry, he was taking a shower in the studio's communal bathroom... he looked so dashing. Some guys decided to tease him, but he spotted them in the mirror and... bang, bang, bang, they all went down."
The show manager questioned, "Is that so?"
"I've heard this from many people on their side."
As Martin and Bruce moved further away, the two overhearing stage managers turned and glanced their way. The show manager commented, "He probably heard us, the bonus."
Rick from the neighboring team handed a rolled-up dollar bill to his colleague, whispering, "Keep spreading it around the crew."
The show manager took the money and said, "It's all in good fun."
Martin found a quiet spot in the rest area and settled down, closing his eyes to unwind.
Bruce settled down beside Martin and glanced towards the refreshments area.
Martin inquired, "Who are they talking about? What's their silly plan?"
Bruce pondered for a moment and replied, "They might be trying to provoke you into a confrontation. You have a reputation for bragging on set, and some people might mistake you for a confrontational guy rather than someone smart and decent."
Martin felt irked, "Aren't I smart and decent enough?"
Bruce presented his case logically, "Can you recall a time and place where you've engaged in a direct confrontation with someone?"
Martin remained silent and turned away, dismissing the notion, "They're trying to stir up trouble using such cheap tactics. Adrian is better at it than this idiot."
He shook his head, "That fool Lily is even better."
Bruce suggested, "Why don't you find out who they're talking about first?"
Martin grabbed his phone and called Blake Lively. After a few questions, he hung up and stated, "It's Mike Vogel, not surprising at all."
Bruce remarked, "The WMA actor with a similar style to you, right? No wonder they're trying to rile you up. It's such a petty industry."
Pointing to the side, Martin added, "He's on the set next door. Are they trying to provoke me into fighting him?" Recalling his interactions with Mike, Martin mused, "He doesn't seem like a complete idiot."
Bruce proposed, "How about this: you keep boasting on set, and I'll leak this information to the outside world. We can even spend some money to get Dalot's help and see what happens."
Martin chuckled, "Are you trying to out-brag me? I'm the best at it."
As the break time ended, Martin briefly touched up his makeup, and he and the stunt actors returned to the set. Perhaps spurred by the news of the upcoming weekend party, the group of stuntmen had regained their energy.
---
Los Angeles, Pacific Pictures.
In her office, Louise, wearing black-rimmed glasses, exuded intelligence and competence, with no hint of frivolity. Her assistant, Nikki, entered and placed the latest report on her desk.
Louise sighed as she perused it, "Even Jerry Bruckheimer can't salvage a counterattack miracle."
"King Arthur," co-produced by Touchstone Pictures and Bruckheimer Pictures, had been a colossal failure. With hundreds of millions of dollars invested, it had only earned a paltry $15 million at the North American box office in its first weekend. Now, three weekends later, it had only amassed a pitiful $45 million. The film's screening schedule had plummeted from over 3,000 theaters to less than 2,000.
The losses were inevitable.
"Troy" had fallen short of expectations, and "King Arthur" had catastrophically flopped at the box office. Louise wondered about the fate of "Alexander the Great," another epic of the same genre.
Louise's extensive experience as a producer led her to believe that the market had grown weary of this genre. The success of "Gladiator" and "Lord of the Rings" had given rise to the expectation that North America was entering an era of epics and fantasy. It seemed the industry had made a miscalculation.
Louise reached for a bottle on her desk, poured herself a glass of wine, downed it in one gulp, and then picked up her phone. She dialed Warner CEO Barry Meyer's number and suggested postponing the release of "Alexander the Great."
Barry Meyer rejected the idea. The project involved funds from various sources, and no one was willing to endure further delays.
Louise then called Warner President Alan Horn, but he too believed that postponing the release was unwise. The market wouldn't change in the short term, and the project's financiers couldn't wait indefinitely. Even if it were released at year's end, it wouldn't alter the outcome if it failed.
After hanging up the phone, Louise had another drink, stood up, and walked to the window. She gazed at Warner Studio not far away, feeling an immense pressure wash over her.
She removed her glasses, took out the notepad Martin had given her from her bag, tore off a page, and called her assistant Nikki. "Contact Esquire and the Bartenders Association. Tell them that Master Bartender Louise Mayer has created a brand-new cocktail."
---
The Sissterhood of travelling pants crew was stationed on location, making final preparations for the official shoot, while the actors diligently rehearsed their roles.
In ten days, Mike Vogel would accompany the B team of the crew to Greece for filming.
Rick, the showrunner, discreetly approached Vogel and disclosed, "I've been observing them for the past few days, and I'm pretty sure Martin Davis loves to boast and comes off as extremely arrogant. Everyone on their crew seems to support him."
Vogel, facing the mirror as he adjusted his dyed dark brown hair, inquired, "Is there more?"
"He enjoys drinking," Rick continued, "and he often joins the crew and cast members for drinks after work. The more he drinks, the more he boasts. Once he had a bit too much and started bragging about having a showdown with gangsters and drug dealers, claiming he shot a dealer in the rear end. Obviously, it's all made up."
Vogel nodded, recognizing the type—a person who loses themselves in alcohol and invents grand stories. He then asked, "Are you sure there's going to be a crew party?"
Rick replied, "All day this Saturday."
Vogel stood before the mirror, lost in thought for a few minutes, and finally said, "Rick, you're Mexican, right? Can you get a rattlesnake or any other venomous snake?"
Rick was bewildered, "What do you intend to do? Put venomous snakes in his room?" While Rick hailed from Tijuana, he wasn't keen on participating in a potential homicide. "I can't be part of this, man. The hotel is monitored everywhere; there's no way to get away with it! Seriously, I advise against it."
Vogel's father had once worked at a snake farm, giving him some knowledge of venomous snakes. He clarified, "I wouldn't actually do that. Are you kidding me?"
Rick asked cautiously, "Are you absolutely sure you're not going to do anything like that?"
"Get someone to procure a snake and remove most of the venom from its venom sac," Vogel whispered, emphasizing, "I'll pay extra."
Rick reluctantly agreed, "Alright, Mexico isn't short on these critters."