The U.S. stock market opens at 9:30 a.m.
It was still early, and Dunn was flipping through a report on the movie industry. The "9/11 attacks" had shaken things up—several films slated for September had shifted their release dates, including MGM's hard-earned Windtalkers. Aside from a few small-budget flicks, the big studios weren't rolling out anything until September 28th. That lineup included 20th Century Fox's Don't Say a Word, Paramount's Zoolander, Warner Bros.' Hearts in Atlantis, Sony's The Glass House, and Dunn Films' A Beautiful Mind.
But Dunn's focus wasn't on release schedules—it was on box office numbers.
The "9/11 attacks" had undeniably hit ticket sales hard. Over the past week, box office totals had plummeted 102% compared to last year! Films that still had some buzz—like Rush Hour 2, Jurassic Park III, and Jeepers Creepers—saw their earnings drop off a cliff. Even Dunn Films' Mr. & Mrs. Smith, now down to 500 theaters, only pulled in $590,000 last week.
But amid all this, one freak stood out: Never Sinking.
This blockbuster, with $460 million in North American box office and $470 million overseas, somehow raked in over $4 million domestically in the past week alone! Overseas numbers were weaker but still added $2 million to its haul. That pushed Never Sinking past Jurassic Park in total earnings, making James Cameron the Hollywood director with the highest-grossing single film—second only to Dunn Walker himself!
Dunn wasn't caught up in the rankings, though. What grabbed his attention was why Never Sinking was surging after the terrorist attacks. In a nation gripped by grief and fear, a movie like this—championing heroism and classic American values—had the potential to carve out a whole new battlefield!
Dunn had his sights set on pushing Cameron into the $1 billion-director club with Never Sinking. The catch? Its ultra-American vibe made overseas growth tricky. Right now, its domestic and international totals were neck-and-neck, a rare balance that showed its limits abroad. Overseas might squeeze out another $10 million, topping out at $480million. That meant North America needed to hit $520 million to break the $1 billion global mark.
Not an easy feat!
But… there was room to maneuver.
The film's plot—Coast Guard ships battling towering waves to bring 30+ survivors home in a triumphant finale—was exactly the kind of hope America craved right now.
What's business, after all? Giving people what they want!
Wall Street's big shots were already in Europe shorting stocks, cashing in on the national crisis. Why couldn't the movie industry do the same? Disaster, death, scandal—it's always been the bread and butter of news and entertainment. It just needs the right packaging. And Never Sinking's heroic spirit? That package was flawless.
Dunn got excited and called Ron Meyer, chairman of Universal Pictures, pitching the idea of leaning into Never Sinking's patriotic appeal.
"The government'll love it, the public's eating it up—why not?"
Ron frowned over the line. "Dunn, we're on the same wavelength here, but Never Sinking has been out for four months. Sure, it might climb a bit, but a big explosion? Not happening."
"$60 million's out of reach?"
"No way! Best case, I'd say it grabs another $20 million before the next wave of releases hits. That'd already be a huge win."
"$20 million? That's peanuts!"
Dunn's brow furrowed. To get Cameron to $1 billion, Never Sinking needed $520 million domestically—still $60 million short. That gap wasn't closing itself.
Ron picked up on something off. "Dunn, what's really going on?"
"You know how I… kinda stole James's director spot for Titanic back in the day? I've always felt a little guilty about it. So this time, I want to use Never Sinking to push him into the $1 billion club."
Ron brushed it off. "Dunn, no need for that! Favors are favors, business is business—James would get it. Besides, a $1 billion director? You're the only one in the world right now. Even Steven's not there yet. James can take his time."
Dunn got serious. "No, to me, favors matter more than business!"
Ron went quiet for a moment before saying slowly, "If you're dead-set on this… riding the crisis wave won't cut it. You need a new play."
"What?"
"Buy the box office!"
"Huh?"
Dunn froze, then chuckled bitterly. "Come on, Chairman Meyer, are you messing with me? Buy tickets? What am I, Tom Cruise? I'm not pulling that kind of embarrassing stunt."
"No, no, Dunn, you've got it wrong." Ron paused, his tone turning cryptic. "The kind of 'buying' I'm talking about won't embarrass you—it'll earn you massive praise and respect."
"Oh?" Dunn's eyes lit up as his mind raced. Then it clicked, and he blurted out, thrilled, "You mean… invite disaster victims to watch for free? Help them break through their trauma and heal?"
Ron nodded. "Not just that. The attack scenes—gruesome, terrifying. A lot of survivors could end up with PTSD, a mental health issue. Without proper support, it could lead to depression, even suicide."
"PTSD… yeah, I know. Tons of Vietnam vets came back with that."
"Exactly. So scale it up—free screenings for all victims, their families, rescue workers, cops, medics, nearby residents, everyone affected."
Dunn mulled it over. "Ron, I'll need your help on this. How about this: Dunn Films buys $50 million in tickets to give free screenings to victims and responders in New York and Washington?"
"Easy enough, but…" Ron dragged out the word, his voice loaded. "Dunn, $50 million won't cut it."
Dunn couldn't help but laugh.
No kidding!
Everyone in America knew that back in June, Dunn had been aggressively shorting stocks, stirring up bearish chatter—only to get snarky pushback from economists and finance bigwigs. Now, even with the markets still closed, it was obvious: the crash was coming, and Dunn was about to cash in big.
With that kind of windfall, skipping charity wasn't an option.
Charity's the biggest industry in America! Why? Kids here are raised by the system, so they give back to it as adults—family ties take a backseat. In China, it's the opposite: families raise kids, so grown-ups prioritize their own kin over society.
Dunn hadn't tapped into U.S. welfare, but he'd paid plenty in taxes. Still, this body he'd been reborn into owed its existence to this country. Charity was both a trend and a no-brainer.
"I know. I've already accepted Senator Carpenter's invite to his charity gala tonight."
Most of Dunn's money sat in the Dunn Capital trust fund, still tied up in the markets. But a gala like this was more about optics than cash—donating a few million was already a big deal. Dropping tens or hundreds of millions? That'd backfire, making others feel upstaged.
If he wanted to give big, he'd start his own fund—not crash someone else's party. For now, his Gone Girl royalties were enough to cover these events.
"Oh, and my movie, A Beautiful Mind—we should tweak the promo strategy a bit."
Ron chuckled. "Dunn, your luck… it's unreal. A Beautiful Mind is a quiet drama with some commercial pacing, sure, but it's light on flash. Then '9/11' hits—like it was tailor-made for this moment."
Dunn laughed. "Luck, that's all! I didn't expect Never Sinking's late run to line up like this—or A Beautiful Mind to get a boost."
Ron could only sigh—opportunity always finds the prepared. " '9/11' is a turning point, especially with war vibes heating up. It could shake up next year's awards season. Play it right, and A Beautiful Mind could be an Oscar contender!"
Dunn blinked, surprised. "Oh? Really? I heard Kirk Douglas—that old guy's got some sway. We've had a little beef. You didn't know?"
Ron snorted dismissively. "This is bigger than him! His influence can't outweigh a terrorist attack or war. If he's got it out for you, he might nick a few minor awards—at most."
"Haha, well, here's hoping you're right!"