The post-work for The Usual Suspects was now a month in. Filming had gone great. There had been no major disasters, no actor meltdowns, and no major injuries, other than Tom Hardy's stuntman, spraining his leg and arm.
Now came the part where I had to actually turn all of that footage into a great movie. If everything went well, we would have the final cut ready by the end of September.
This should have been easier for me. In theory. I had seen the original movie before in my old life, so it should have been easy to put the movie together. But that was not the case. I did not remember every single frame of the movie. I did not wake up in this world with a perfect archive of every movie, show, book, comic, game, and song I had ever experienced. I did not have a photographic memory. I could not close my eyes and replay every line of dialogue from every film in exact order.
Most of what I had done since waking up as an eleven-year-old in this new world had been built from memory, yes, but not complete memory. It was more like remembering the shape of something.
The overall plot. The big moments. The characters. The ending.
Writing Toy Story as a book had been like that. Percy Jackson had been like that. ASOIAF was definitely like that.
I knew where the road was supposed to go. That did not mean I remembered every stone on the road.
There was something different about making The Witch and making this movie. Unlike The Witch, this was going to be released as a big movie to the masses.
This had big stars.
Robert Downey Jr. alone was going to put a lot of eyes on it, and the man was absolutely looking for an Oscar nomination with this.
Which shot should I use?
Should this line come in faster?
Should the music start here, or ten frames later?
One bad decision might not ruin the movie by itself. But a hundred slightly wrong decisions? That was how a great film became only good. Or worse, forgettable.
On top of all this, there was also the fact that I had a streak of great movies going, and people were waiting for me to finally stumble.
I shook my head and turned to my left, where Denis Villeneuve sat in the chair next to me, arms crossed, staring at the monitor.
He had asked if he could come with me today. I had said yes, of course. I could use his eyes on this as well, get some good feedback, and also because I suspected the man wanted a break from all things Dune.
Which was fair.
Dune was in pre-production now. Principal photography was scheduled to begin in September and wrap in January, with a December 2019 release planned.
It was Midas's most ambitious movie to date, easily.
We were filming in Jordan, the UAE, and Norway, with most of the studio work being done in the UK because of the tax break we got there. The scale of it all was enormous. And Denis, because he was Denis, wanted everything to feel real.
Which meant expensive.
The movie was being produced by Paul and Julie, my former assistant, who had turned out to be disturbingly good at telling powerful creative men no.
Especially Denis.
Honestly, Julie might have been the only reason the budget had not overballooned. I mean, if Denis had his way, this movie would have cost over $300 million. Thankfully, we had rounded it down to $180 million.
The funny thing was, I did not really care if Dune made a huge profit. I would be happy if we broke even. Hell, I would survive if we lost a few million. Not ideal, obviously, but I was not making Dune because I thought it was going to become the next superhero-level box office giant overnight.
Dune was not something deeply rooted in the wider pop culture.
Well. Not yet.
It had fans. It was one of the most important science fiction novels ever written.
2019 was the year Infinity War was coming out. World's Finest was coming. There were other big franchise films lined up. The superhero machine was still at full power, and I did not expect fatigue to truly set in until after DC ended Chapter 3, which was years away.
So no, I was not expecting Dune to walk into that environment and dominate.
What I wanted was simpler.
Get people talking.
Make the visuals unforgettable.
Make the score, the production design, the atmosphere, the political scale, and the performances become the kind of things people discussed for years.
Then the second and third parts could bring the audience in. That was where the money would come back.
At least, that was my thinking.
Paul did not share that view.
He believed that with my name attached, Denis directing, and Midas behind it, the movie had a real shot at making money right away. He also thought the superhero films would not be as big a problem as I believed.
"Audiences want variety," he had said.
"Pause," Denis said.
Greg, the editor, hit the spacebar.
The image froze on the docks. This was one of the bigger action scenes in The Usual Suspects, or at least as close as the movie got to a proper action scene before the final stretch.
Denis leaned forward slightly, eyes still on the monitor.
"I think you should use less of McManus aiming with the gun," he said. "Show more of Verbal hiding."
I looked at the screen for a moment.
"Yeah," I said, nodding. "You're right."
Greg made the note and adjusted the timeline.
Denis lifted one hand slightly. "Also…"
He pointed at the screen.
"Go forward a bit."
Greg scrubbed through the scene.
"Stop."
The image froze on Fenster ducking behind a crate as bullets tore through the wood above him.
"Cut two frames before he ducks," Denis said. "The impact is stronger if the audience does not see him..umm what is the word…ummm… prepare."
Greg glanced at me.
I nodded.
He made the cut.
We watched the moment again.
"Okay," I said. "That works."
We kept going.
The next section had McManus pushing too far ahead, getting separated from the others. For some reason, the whole thing made him look like an unstoppable action hero.
I looked at Greg.
"Show me take four."
Greg pulled it up.
In take four, Tom slipped slightly on the wet dock while moving forward.
"That," Denis said.
"Yeah," I said. "That."
We swapped the take in.
We watched the sequence again. Now McManus felt less polished. More reckless. The whole scene improved around that one small change.
"You know," I said to Denis, "I think I should have you over more often."
He looked at the monitor, still studying the frame.
"And I should have you with me for Dune."
I turned to him.
"It is easier to make decisions with you there."
I laughed. "That's because I'm the boss. You don't have to go through Julie and Paul on everything when I'm sitting next to you."
Denis smiled.
"Yes," he said. "That too."
Denis leaned back, finally taking his eyes off the screen.
"From what I have seen so far, this is a great film," he said.
"Thanks."
"I was curious," he continued. "When I heard Robert was playing Keaton, I wondered if he might overshadow everyone."
"Yeah," I said. "That was a concern."
"But that is not the case," Denis said. "Not from what I have seen. He is very good, but the others remain just as interesting. They are on equal footing."
That was good to hear.
RDJ had too much presence sometimes. He could walk into a scene and bend the whole thing around himself if you let him.
"People forget how good an actor he is," I said. "I think a decade of Marvel made everyone see him only as Iron Man."
Denis nodded. "I can see why he wanted to do this movie with you, even with how busy he is."
"Yeah," I said.
Denis was quiet for a moment.
Then he said, "You know, I have been thinking about our issue with the ending."
I looked at him.
He glanced at me.
"The ending for Dune."
"Ah," I said.
That issue.
Denis and I had not really been able to agree on the ending of the first Dune movie.
The script we had co-written had several differences from the version I remembered watching in my old life. Not massive ones that changed the bones of the story, but enough to have it be a whole different movie than the one I remembered.
I had added scenes.
Expanded characters.
Made the politics more visible earlier.
The Padishah Emperor appeared in this movie. Not too much, but enough. I wanted audiences to understand that House Atreides was being plotted against not only because the Harkonnens hated them, but because the Emperor was afraid of them.
The Spacing Guild also had scenes now. Not many. But enough to show their creepy, quiet power over the entire empire. I had always thought the Guild needed to feel like a force people feared.
I had also felt the second half of the movie was too slow, so the changes helped broaden the conflict and keep the pace going from beginning to end.
There was only so much we could include, obviously. Sacrifices had to be made. Some characters got less. Some scenes were shortened. Some pieces were saved for later. You could not adapt every page unless you wanted to make a ten-hour movie. It kind of made me think I should have made this into a series.
A very expensive series. Netflix would have been interested for sure.
But overall the final script we had, I felt, would make most book fans happy while also pulling new fans into the world.
That was the hope, at least.
The problem was the ending which we had not decided on.
I looked at Denis and sighed.
"I think I'm going to give up on that."
He raised an eyebrow.
"We can go with your idea," I said.
That got his attention.
"Truly?"
"Don't look so shocked. I can be reasonable."
Greg made a noise that sounded suspiciously like a cough.
I ignored him.
"We'll have more time to argue about what to do with Alia in the second movie anyway," I added.
Denis laughed softly.
"Oh dear," he said. "I am not looking forward to that."
"Well, if I wanted, I could get my way. I'm funding this all, after all."
Denis looked at me with a faint smile.
"Yes. A terrible misuse of power."
"Exactly. I am showing remarkable restraint."
I looked at the clock on the wall and blinked.
"Wait," I said. "It's 2 p.m."
Denis looked at his watch.
"Oh."
"Let's get some lunch," I said, standing up.
Denis slowly stood as well.
I turned to Greg. "I'll see you tomorrow. Might as well end it here for today."
"There's a good restaurant that just opened last month," I said to Denis. "Let's go there."
"We also have to decide the whole Chani thing," I added.
"Yes," Denis said, following me toward the door. "Let's."
.
.
.
SUICIDE SQUAD (2018), Official Teaser Trailer
[00:00]
Black screen.
A distant metallic buzz.
Then a sharp electronic beep.
BEEP.
A heavy cell door unlocks.
CLANK.
[00:05]
The screen slowly fades in.
A sterile hallway with harsh white lights. Concrete walls. A red security light blinks above a reinforced door.
Two armed guards stand outside.
A woman in a doctor's coat walks into frame, her heels clicking against the floor.
She carries a folder against her chest.
The badge clipped to her coat reads:
DR. HARLEEN QUINZEL
[00:12]
The guards open the door.
She steps inside.
The room is dimmer than the hallway.
A table.
Two chairs.
One overhead light.
And sitting on the other side of the table, almost swallowed by shadow, is the silhouette of a man.
His hands are cuffed to the table.
Harleen enters with a bright, professional smile.
HARLEEN: "Good morning."
The man says nothing.
He only tilts his head slightly.
[00:20]
The screen cuts to black.
The DC STUDIOS logo appears.
The music begins. Low. Unsettling. Almost playful.
[00:25]
Back to the room.
Harleen sits across from him and opens the folder.
HARLEEN: "I'm Dr. Harleen Quinzel. I'll be conducting your evaluation today."
The man remains mostly in shadow.
Only his mouth is faintly visible.
A scar at the corner of it.
Harleen glances down at the file.
HARLEEN: "I've read your file."
A pause.
The man breathes in softly.
Then he speaks.
His voice is quiet.
Almost gentle.
JOKER: "My file?"
He lets out a small laugh.
JOKER: "Oh, sweetheart, if you read that thing, then you know less about me now than you did before."
[00:40]
Harleen looks up from the file.
HARLEEN: "I'm here to help you."
JOKER: "Help me?"
He laughs.
Quietly at first.
Then louder.
And louder.
The laughter stops suddenly.
His eyes lower to her name tag.
JOKER: "Dr. Harleen Quinzel."
He says it slowly, tasting every syllable.
The music grows more intense as he speaks.
JOKER: "Harleen Quinzel."
He tilts his head.
JOKER: "Harley Quinnzel."
Harleen frowns slightly.
JOKER: "Harley Quinn."
[00:55]
He leans forward as far as the cuffs allow.
The light catches part of his face now.
JOKER: "Sounds better."
Harleen says nothing.
But her eyes remain fixed on him.
The Joker's voice drops, softer now.
JOKER: "Harley Quinn."
He laughs under his breath.
JOKER: "The Joker and Harley Quinn."
His eyes never leave hers.
JOKER: "Sounds like a punchline waiting to happen."
[01:05]
The overhead light flickers.
For the first time, his face is fully revealed.
He smiles.
Then he laughs.
[01:10]
Hard cut.
Black screen.
Amanda Waller's voice cuts through.
WALLER: "You are not heroes."
[01:15]
Quick shot.
A prison door opens.
Bloodsport lifts his head inside a cell.
WALLER: "You are not soldiers."
Peacemaker sits on a bench, staring forward.
Captain Boomerang grins as guards drag him down a hallway.
WALLER: "You are property."
Katana stands alone in the rain, sword drawn.
WALLER: "Mine."
[01:25]
Killer Croc rises from dark water inside a containment tank.
Weasel slams himself against reinforced glass, shrieking.
Shrike sharpens a blade in a cell.
Slipknot looks up as a collar is locked around his neck.
Red X steps out of smoke, his mask glowing faintly.
Snowflame laughs wildly as he snorts cocaine.
Dr. Light sits chained in a transport vehicle.
[01:35]
WALLER: "Your lives are in my hands. If you run, you die. If you disobey, you die. If you annoy me... you can guess."
Fast cuts.
Explosions in Gotham.
A convoy tearing through narrow streets.
Police lights reflecting off wet asphalt.
A group of masked criminals firing at something off-screen.
[01:45]
WALLER: "Something was stolen from me."
A dark room.
A gloved hand opens a metal case.
The Joker's laugh echoes.
WALLER: "You are going to retrieve it."
[01:50]
Action montage.
Bloodsport fires his gun, brutally killing several Joker gang members.
Peacemaker walks forward through gunfire, firing two pistols.
Captain Boomerang ducks behind a car as his boomerang slices through three men and returns to his hand.
Katana cuts through a hallway of attackers.
Killer Croc smashes through a brick wall.
Weasel bites someone.
Harley Quinn drives a car at full speed, laughing behind the wheel, her eyes bright with chaos.
[02:00]
Bloodsport, Rick Flag Jr., and Peacemaker stand in a warehouse, guns aimed at each other's faces.
WALLER: "You will do exactly what I say."
Quick cuts.
Explosions.
The squad running through Arkham corridors.
Harley swinging a bat.
A black helicopter crashing into a rooftop.
WALLER: "Because if you don't..."
[02:10]
A close-up of Waller holding a detonator.
WALLER: "I blow your fucking heads off."
[02:15]
Hard cut to a military transport plane.
Dr. Light sits across from Peacemaker, trying to look calm.
Peacemaker stares at him.
PEACEMAKER: "I got no issue working with people like you all. But him? I can't even stand the sight of rapists like him."
[02:20]
The plane goes quiet.
Everyone slowly moves away from Dr. Light.
Dr. Light swallows.
DR. LIGHT: "I'm innocent. I was framed."
PEACEMAKER: "That's what they all say, you fucking piece of shit."
[02:25]
Hard cut to black.
SUICIDE SQUAD
NOVEMBER 2018
============
"The teaser is good," I said, watching it on the TV screen as I spoke to Dave on the phone. Margot sat beside me on the couch, one leg tucked under her, taking a bite out of an apple.
A few minutes later, I finally ended the call and tossed my phone onto the couch.
"Done?" Margot asked.
"For now."
She took another bite of the apple. "So who are you going to ask?"
I leaned back, confused. "Ask what?"
Margot slowly turned her head toward me.
"You know what," she said.
I stared at her.
She stared back.
Then it hit me.
"Oh."
I sighed.
The best man.
Fuck.
Picking between Matt and John was... complicated.
How the hell was I supposed to pick one?
Margot narrowed her eyes. "You have to pick one."
"Do I?"
"Yes."
"I mean, at this point, I would rather pick Nathan… Or oh… Joanna. Or Scarlett."
Margot gave me a look.
"Danny."
I sighed again, sinking deeper into the couch. "Fine. I'll think about it."
"You've been saying that for two months."
"And I have been thinking about it for two months."
"No, you've been avoiding it for two months."
"That's a kind of thinking."
"Look, we don't have much time."
I sat up. "We don't have much time? We have, like, five more months."
"Yes," she said, as if I had just proved her point. "Five months is not that much time."
"Five months is a lot of time."
"Let's just talk about something else," I said quickly.
I did not want to discuss anything wedding-related right now. That was what we had been doing all week.
I turned away, looking back at the TV.
The teaser was paused on Harley Quinn.
"What?" she asked, seeing my expression.
I kept looking at the screen.
"You know, I remember you promising me something some time ago."
Margot looked at me, confused.
I smiled, still looking at the paused image.
Her eyes followed mine to the screen.
Then her face changed.
A small smile appeared.
"Danny."
"You did promise."
She shook her head, trying not to laugh.
I leaned forward slightly. "I mean, those costumes you took from the set are just sitting there."
Margot's smile widened. "You mean you took from the set."
"And if I remember clearly, we did take advantage of that in my trailer." she added.
"That doesn't count."
Margot watched me for a second, amused.
Then she shrugged.
"Okay."
I blinked.
"Okay?"
"Okay," she said again, the smallest smirk forming.
I sat up straighter. "You're serious?"
"Yeah. Why not?"
She leaned in and placed a short kiss on my lips. Then she stood and began walking toward the bedroom.
I quickly followed.
==========
I sat on the bed, waiting with what I felt was a reasonable amount of patience.
Which was no patience at all.
Margot was in the dressing room, and I could hear movement from inside. A drawer opening. Fabric shifting.
"Are you ready?" she called from behind the door.
"You have absolutely no idea," I said.
There was a pause.
Then the door opened slightly.
One leg came out first, showing off the red and black stocking.
I sat up immediately.
"Oh, hello."
A hand appeared next, fingers wiggling dramatically through the doorway. Then another hand appeared, slowly showing off the costume.
Then she stepped out.
And every dirty thought in my head died.
The outfit was there, but she was wearing full-on clown makeup. White paint. Exaggerated red cheeks. A giant red ball nose.
I physically recoiled, scrambling backward on the bed.
"What the fuck?"
Margot burst out laughing.
"This is what you wanted, isn't it?" she said, stepping forward with the most terrifying grin I had ever seen. "Don't I look like the sexy clown you wanted?"
"No," I said immediately.
She took another step.
I stood up on the bed, pointing at her. "You stay away."
"Oh, come on, Danny," she said, her voice high and ridiculous.
"You ruined it."
She lunged.
I jumped off the other side of the bed and ran for the door.
"You ruined it!" I shouted as I fled.
Margot chased after me, laughing so hard she nearly stumbled.
"Come back, puddin'!"
"Absolutely not!"
.
.
You can read up to chapter 326 here.
p.a.t.r.eon.com/Illusiveone (check the chapter summary i have it there as well)