Chapter 667: Justice League is Finished!

In the heart of North America, the curtains lifted on "Green Lantern" to a promising $42.75 million, a sum that initially seemed auspicious. Yet, when juxtaposed with the colossal $200 million production budget and over $100 million spent on publicity and marketing, the glow of success dimmed to a mere flicker.

But what sent shivers down spines was the catastrophic collapse of "Green Lantern's" reputation. Cinemascore, the pulse of audience sentiment, delivered a tepid B-, while Rotten Tomatoes' freshness rating withered to 22%, and IMDB painted a paltry picture with a score of 5.4.

With such dismal acclaim, the film's box office plummeted by a staggering 70% in its second weekend, leaving its North American haul at a meager $61.78 million after ten days.

Even the most optimistic forecasters doubted the film's ability to break $100 million domestically, leaving Warner Bros. facing a daunting financial abyss that would take decades to climb out of.

Yet, the failure of one film, albeit of epic proportions, wasn't the death knell. Warner Bros., with its vast resources, could weather such storms. But for the ambitious new management, it was a wake-up call – the DC Super Hero Movie Universe teetered on the brink of bankruptcy before it even soared.

Inside the Warner Building's cavernous conference room, executives sat with furrowed brows lining the elongated table. Kevin Tsujihara, at the head, voiced the collective concern: "What's the problem? Two catastrophic failures in our film business in the past month alone."

He turned his gaze to Hamada, the weight of disappointment heavy in his words, "The failure of 'Green Lantern' jeopardizes the entire DC movie universe plan."

Hamada rose, a picture of contrition, "I apologize for this failure."

Silence hung heavy as all eyes bore into Hamada, awaiting his next move. Would he resign?

Hamada straightened, his apology genuine but devoid of any mention of resignation.

Tsujihara, though disappointed, didn't press the issue. Hamada was a trusted ally, but the stakes were too high to dwell on past failures.

"We must abandon the 'Green Lantern' plan and craft a new universe," Tsujihara declared, urgency coloring his tone. "Time is of the essence. We must catch up to Marvel."

"I will devise a new plan swiftly," Hamada pledged, determination etched on his face.

The specter of "Green Lantern's" failure loomed large, driving the imperative for speed. Tsujihara opened the floor to suggestions, but the room remained silent.

Daniel, a relic from the old guard, finally spoke up. "Marvel's success hinges on Kevin Feige's oversight. We need a similar figure to shepherd our superhero universe to success."

His words resonated, offering a glimmer of hope amidst the gloom. Perhaps, with the right leadership, Warner Bros. could yet carve out its own heroic legacy.

Hamada's countenance betrayed his inner turmoil. Was his faltering expression a mark of incompetence? After all, he bore the weight of "Green Lantern's" failure, yet he humbled himself with a deep bow and a sincere apology.

But Kevin Tsujihara brushed aside such doubts, focusing on the practicality of the situation. "Who do you think is suitable?" he inquired, his gaze probing the room.

Daniel, with gravitas in his voice, recommended heavyweight contenders: "Christopher Nolan and Emma Thomas! Among our current collaborators, none are better suited than them. The Nolans possess an intimate understanding of DC superheroes, having helmed two wildly successful Batman films, with a third in the works..."

His suggestions flowed effortlessly, leaving even Hamada unable to muster a rebuttal.

Daniel pressed on, "If we entrust the DC movie universe to the Nolans for unified production, could we replicate the success of 'The Dark Knight'?"

Jon Berg, sharing an unspoken understanding with Daniel, chimed in, "This is a brilliant proposition. Nolan elevated superhero cinema to unprecedented heights."

Tsujihara's nod signaled agreement. "Nolan is indeed an ideal fit. Hamada, reach out to him personally, gauge his interest."

With those words, any lingering discontent in Hamada's heart dissipated. His superior had entrusted him with the task of contacting Nolan, a clear affirmation of his leadership. The meeting adjourned, Tsujihara convened with his confidants in a smaller chamber to delve deeper into their strategies.

Word travels fast in Hollywood, and soon Nolan caught wind of the discussions that had transpired.

Meanwhile, in the bustling streets of Beverly Hills, Bruce's Escalade pulled up outside a quaint coffee shop. Martin, accustomed to the glare of paparazzi, strolled past them with practiced indifference, making his way inside.

Spotting Nolan amidst the cozy interior, Martin approached. "How was filming the space epic?" Nolan inquired.

"It felt like tending to a farm," Martin confessed. "Digging, fertilizing, watering—every bit as meticulous as planting potatoes."

"Experience is invaluable," Nolan remarked, dead serious. "Remember, my next lead is also a farmer."

Martin nodded knowingly. "No stranger to the fields," he quipped, recalling his agricultural exploits in a past life.

Impressed by Martin's dedication, Nolan broached a delicate topic. "Are you ready to dive back into reality?" he asked, hinting at their shared history with Warner Bros.

Their conversation veered towards professional terrain, laying the groundwork for potential collaborations to come.

Martin leaned in, curiosity etched on his features. "What's the latest scoop?"

Nolan's expression darkened as he delivered the news. "Warner Bros. scrapped the entire DC superhero movie universe plan post-'Green Lantern' debacle. They want me to step in as a producer and chart a new course."

Martin's brows furrowed in contemplation. "So, like Kevin Feige for Marvel Studios?"

Nolan chuckled wryly. "Not quite as mighty as Feige," he replied. "Interestingly, it was Hamada from DC Films who approached me, not Tsujihara. It seems I'd be under Hamada's wing."

Their camaraderie ran deep, and Martin, cherishing their bond, couldn't fathom seeing Nolan embroiled in the DC world, potentially overshadowing his own career.

Nolan, a pragmatist in the world of cinema, found himself swayed by Warner's offer, despite his reservations.

Martin broached a sensitive topic. "Chris, what's your take on 'Green Lantern'?"

Nolan didn't mince words. "Calling it rubbish would be a compliment," he spat. "It's an insult to the art of filmmaking."

Martin nodded, understanding the underlying implications. "If Hamada were to take precedence over you, interfering with your vision..."

It was a tempting offer for Nolan, yet fraught with uncertainty.

"I've heard rumblings," Martin continued, "that Warner Pictures is tasking each of the six producers of 'Green Lantern' with re-editing the film..."

Nolan was stunned. The audacity of such a demand left him speechless.

Martin added, "Bryan Singer, the film's director, suffered a heart attack from the stress."

The gravity of the situation sank in for Nolan. Accepting Warner's offer would plunge him into a maelstrom of chaos and conflict, jeopardizing his well-being.

"I'd rather steer clear," Nolan declared, a firm resolve in his voice. "DC superhero movies... end with 'The Dark Knight Rises'."

As they deliberated, Blake Lively emerged from a nearby office building, her assistant in tow, phone in hand.

The assistant handed Blake the device, relaying Martin's whereabouts. Blake wasted no time, reaching out to him with a simple text: "Free to chat?"

Martin's swift response affirmed their connection. "Absolutely."