Robert Downey Jr. couldn't believe his luck. Just two years ago, he had thought he would die a forgettable actor, remembered only as a junkie. But now, he was starring in the biggest blockbuster of the summer so far.
"You did it, honey," Susan, his wife, congratulated him with a hug when the figures finally came in.
"We did it," Robert corrected her. "I couldn't have done it without you."
If he was clean today, it was all thanks to her, so it was obvious she had played a huge role in his resurgence.
"The only regret I have is that modified contract I had to sign for them to release this movie," Robert sighed.
"Don't think too much about it," Susan assured him. "Think of this as a stepping stone for the future."
Robert's initial contract had been a three-picture deal. It was a very flexible arrangement that either Robert or Marvel could walk away from. But after Troy bought Marvel, he made a change that shook him.
(Flashback)
"Why does my agent tell me that I'll have to redo my contract?" Robert asked, perplexed.
"It's nothing personal, Robert. Just business," Kevin Feige said matter-of-factly. "Troy runs things a little differently. He believes that a few people at the top shouldn't get all the reward for a hit movie."
Robert scoffed. "That's rich coming from a guy consistently taking over $100 million per movie."
"He gives very large bonuses to all the cast and crew he works with out of his own pocket," Kevin explained. "He doesn't advertise it much, but it's true."
Robert took a deep breath before asking, "What exactly are you proposing for me then?"
"A ten-picture deal," Kevin said seriously. "As an incentive, Troy even promised to double your salary to $1 million from the half you got on this film, and you will be eligible for a bonus based on the film's performance. For the next nine films, your salary would be $2 million, $4 million, $6 million, $8 million, $10 million, and then it would be capped at $15 million. That is, of course, if we make that many films."
"It's illegal in California to sign for more than seven years," Robert reminded him.
"That's why they want you to sign the agreement in London," Kevin explained. "Phoenix, Troy's film studio, is headquartered there and you'll be signing this new contract with them, not Marvel. There are no such laws in London against long-term contracts."
Robert gritted his teeth. "What if I refuse?"
Kevin frowned slightly. "Then I've been told to replace you and reshoot all your scenes as Iron Man with an actor willing to sign that contract. It will cost us dearly, but Troy is ready to bear that cost."
(Flashback End)
So, of course, Robert had flown to London and signed the deal. It was only after the release of the film that he found out Terrence Howard hadn't, and they had already started looking for his replacement for the sequel.
He had to admit it. Troy was a real genius when it came to business. Robert hated the move that had been pulled on him, but he could appreciate how it had been done—using his desperation to make him commit for the long term.
(Break)
BANG.
"Good evening, ladies and gentlemen," the maniac playing the Joker stalked the room with a rifle in his hand and a gaze that carried a hint of madness. Yet the predatory, hungry look in his eyes made everyone avert their gaze. "We are tonight's entertainment."
The man did completely random things that weren't even in the script, moving around the room as the cameraman dutifully followed his stride. He picked up a piece of salad from the table and bit into it as if it were the most delicious thing he had ever tasted.
"I only have one question. Where is Harvey Dent?" He asked no one in particular, yet everyone heard him loud and clear. He moved closer to one of the extras, a girl, and snatched a drink from her hands, making her gasp at the sudden move, before finishing it in one gulp.
Then he moved around, shoving people randomly. "You know where Harvey is?" he asked, then grabbed a man by the chin. "Do you know where I can find Harvey? I need to talk to him about something. Just something, little."
When the man didn't answer, the Joker knocked on his bald head, as if checking if there was anything inside.
"Nah, it's empty."
He moved on, finally stopping in front of an elderly man who was standing beside a salad table. "You know, I would settle for his loved ones." Then he proceeded to eat a grape.
The man was not cowed and stood his ground. "We are not intimidated by thugs."
The Joker made an exaggeratedly confused face, as if asking, 'Who, me?' before saying, "You know, you remind me of my father." Then suddenly he grabbed the man by the back of his head and brought out a knife, placing it in the man's mouth. "I hated my father."
Maggie, who had been silently watching the entire scene, was more than conflicted. On one hand, she could easily see how brilliant this performance was. On the other hand, the way this man was treating the extras and supporting characters as if he owned them infuriated her. None of his actions, like pushing people around or snatching their food, were scripted, yet he was doing them because, from what she could deduce, Nolan had given him carte blanche to terrorize everyone. And he was doing a great job of it. Nolan had a big grin on his face as two cameramen moved around and shot the scene with great precision.
She hated that.
So she brought the same irritation and anguish into her performance and called out, "Stop!"
That was all she had to say in the scene, but she made sure that word mattered.
Seeing her, the Joker brushed the old man aside, as if he didn't matter at all.
"Well, hello, beautiful," he stalked forward, slicking his green hair back, with a big knife still in his hand, though it was not pointed directly at her. "You must be Harvey's squeeze."
He reached her and began circling her, assessing her with his predatory gaze.
"And you are beautiful." He suddenly lunged toward her, making her step back in fear, but it was just a bluff. His smile widened even further. Then he lowered his voice, as if speaking to a child. "Well, you look nervous. Is it the scars? You want to know how I got them?"
He nodded to himself, as if already deciding he would tell her regardless of her answer. He moved forward with great speed and grabbed the back of Maggie's head. Maggie was decidedly uncomfortable with the move and looked around, hoping Nolan would intervene. But the grip the Joker had on her lower face was ironclad, and he wouldn't let her look away. From the silence of the crew, it was obvious she was on her own.
And she felt scared. Scratch that, she was utterly terrified. Her legs were shaking, and her breathing quickened. She had no idea if the knife was real or not. Normally, she wouldn't even ask if her co-star was sane, but this person was clearly not in his right mind. It didn't help that he wore horrendous makeup, and she had no idea who he even was.
"Come on, look at me," the Joker said in a threatening voice. It was obvious the message was meant for her, not the character. She stopped resisting his grip as wildly as before, but she closed her eyes, unable to look at that face without having a full-blown panic attack.
"I had a wife," the man continued, beginning a monologue about how he got the scars. But Maggie wasn't listening. She wasn't even seeing. She couldn't.
She didn't hear the call of 'cut' or when filming stopped. She only realized they had taken a break when her assistant hugged her tightly, and Maggie found herself sobbing in her arms.
She didn't notice the worried looks from the cast and crew around her, including the Joker and Chris Nolan.
(Flashback End)
July 2008, Los Angeles, CA, USA
Seeing the same scene on the big screen felt like reliving a nightmare for Maggie. While nearly a year had passed since that day, she remembered it vividly, along with the way everyone reacted to her breakdown. Chris Nolan and Frank, the actor who played the Joker, had apologized profusely for pushing her limits. At the time, she had been furious and even decided never to work with Nolan or Frank again. But seeing the final result in front of her, she wasn't so sure now. While she would never admit it to anyone in the cast, or even to Nolan, she was glad Frank did what he did. Otherwise, she wouldn't have gotten this result.
Looking around the small theater where they were watching the movie, she couldn't help but feel slightly disappointed at the absence of an unfamiliar face, which she had expected to spot. There were Christian Bale, Aaron Eckhart, Michael Caine, Gary Oldman, and Morgan Freeman present. Aside from them, there was Chris Nolan, his producer wife Emma Thomas, Wally Pfister, the cinematographer, Lee Smith, the editor, and a few more key crew members she recognized.
And then there were the suits from the studio—the new CEO, COO, and President—all of whom she recognized as well. It was strange that no one from lower or middle-level management was present. She had attended multiple internal screenings over the years, and usually, a few would always sneak in through their connections. Even the cast and crew members were strictly told not to bring any plus-ones.
Probably because of all the secrecy.
When she had received a call from Warner about an internal screening, she had immediately said yes, because like every other person on the planet right now, she was equally curious about the identity of the Joker. The marketing campaign Warner Bros. had launched was audacious, ingenious, and the first of its kind—yet it worked perfectly for the movie. Ever since last year, the studio has been building the mystery surrounding the identity of the Joker.
And since no actor had been officially attached to the role, the mystery only deepened.
So it was a little disappointing for Maggie that she wouldn't get to know the answer even now.
Aside from that, the film was the best piece of cinema she had ever been a part of. The direction, action sequences, dialogue, cinematography, and music were all perfect. And of course, there was the presence of the Joker, which elevated the entire film exponentially. He may have been an asshole to her, but she couldn't deny that he was a very capable asshole.
She glanced at the man sitting beside her—Christian Bale—who looked slightly annoyed by the end of the movie. And she knew exactly why. If she were to count all the memorable scenes featuring the Joker, there were too many to list. But you couldn't do the same for Bale's Batman.
While Batman still had slightly more screen time than the Joker, it was undeniable that this was the Joker's movie, not Batman's.
It was slightly funny when you realized how much of a hypocrite Bale was being. On one hand, he would praise Frank as the second Marlon Brando. On the other hand, he still got jealous that the same Frank had outperformed him. The only thing to do in such a situation was to improve yourself, not get jealous of others.
Finally, after two and a half hours, the film ended as Batman drove away from Gotham on his Bat-Pod. If the same movie were playing in theaters, they would roll the credits, but since it was just an internal screening, they didn't.
Maggie started applauding for an exceptionally well-made movie and called out to the director, who was sitting just a row in front of her. "Great job, Chris. That's the best movie of my career so far."
"Thanks, Maggie," Chris replied with a big grin on his face.
"Can you now tell us who the fuck is that Frank guy?" Aaron Eckhart jumped in. "We have been doing press for weeks. I think we deserve to know that."
Gary Oldman, who sat just two seats away from Maggie, chortled at that.
"You know," Maggie said in realization.
"Of course I know," he retorted. "But no one told me. I found out on my own."
Before anyone could question him, the door to the screening room opened, and in walked a man wearing a Joker face mask—the same one he wore during the bank heist. But surely this couldn't be the Joker. While the real Joker had broad shoulders and a very domineering presence, this guy was on the leaner side and wore a solid white T-shirt and navy blue jeans, making him look like a college student, or maybe even a high schooler.
"Ladies and gentlemen," Chris Nolan took over the proverbial mic. "Please welcome the person who played the Joker in the movie, who needs no introduction, at least as soon as he removes his mask."
That was all the cue he needed to take off his mask in one single motion.
Maggie's mouth dropped so wide you could fit an entire Big Mac inside and still have space left for a few fries.
The grinning teenager in front of her was not what she had expected to see today at all.
"You can't be the Joker!" she called out hotly before she could stop herself. "You're... but you..."
Troy Armitage gave her an apologetic smile. "I'm sorry to disappoint, Maggie, but I am the real Joker. Also, I'm very sorry for how things happened between us while filming. I never meant to push you that hard. I hope you forgive me."
Maggie didn't have any words.
"Do your Joker voice," Aaron Eckhart suggested. "I still find it hard to believe."
"Why do you find it hard to believe, Harvey?" Troy instantly switched to his menacing voice, which sounded utterly creepy coming from him like that without the makeup. "Do you want me to whack you for you to get it?"
Christian Bale let out a booming laugh. "Wow. Never in my life had I even imagined that a teenager would outperform me in a movie. Well played, Troy, well played." Then he pointed at the screen. "What we saw just now was your best work to date. I totally believe Nolan now that you'll win an Oscar for this."
"Thank you," Troy bowed his head in gratitude, now back to his normal voice. "That means a lot to me coming from you." Then he looked around the room and addressed everyone. "I know I was an asshole most of the time while filming, so if at any point I offended any one of you, I apologize dearly. I hope you forgive me and set this all behind you. I usually don't go so deep into my character as I did while filming this movie, and going forward, I don't plan to. It's exhausting."
Before anyone else could say anything, Maggie said, "I forgive you."
"Thank you, Maggie," Troy replied.
She could sense from his tone that he was being genuinely sincere. Not to mention, it would be foolish to alienate a bigshot producer like Troy, whose production companies had already produced super hit films like [Iron Man] and [Twilight], two of the biggest movies of the year so far.
"Wait," Aaron called out. "You're in a DC film while owning Marvel. Isn't that a conflict of interest?"
"Not at all," Troy said smoothly. "I love both Marvel and DC equally. In fact, if Warner Bros. were willing, they could even sell DC off to me. I wouldn't mind." He shot a teasing look toward the top management of WB.
Jeff Robinov, the president, laughed at that. "I don't think we can justify that to our shareholders unless you're buying it at an absurd price."
"Thought so," Troy concluded, before turning back to Aaron. "I don't see DC or Marvel when making a movie. I see a good script and a good director. And Mr. Nolan here is one gem of a director. I'm saying this right here in front of everyone in the room. If you have a role for me, Chris, in any of your future movies, I will never say no."
That statement carried weight. Maggie knew it. Everyone in the room knew it. Troy Armitage had a unique track record of never delivering a flop. Ever since his first big movie as a kid, [The Sixth Sense], which turned out to be the biggest blockbuster of the year, he hadn't had a single failure. Industry experts and speculators had been trying for years to figure out the logic he applied when selecting movies that made him so successful, but no one had been able to deduce it. In the end, it was all chalked up to "the Troy Effect," where every movie he starred in would somehow work like magic.
"Thank you, Troy," Nolan replied. "I'll keep your offer in mind." Then he turned to the cast and crew members in the screening room. "Keep in mind, everyone, that Troy's presence is still a secret to the outside world. You've all signed NDAs, so you cannot even tell your close friends or family. If you do, the big bosses behind me would likely sue you."
It didn't matter much to Maggie. No one would believe her even if she told them. The truth was too hard to swallow.
"Okay," Morgan Freeman said for everyone. "Now let's all get ready for the premiere in a few days."
The premiere itself was another fascinating marketing trick. Usually, studios held premieres a week before a film's release, but this time, they were doing it just the night before. So the premiere was on Thursday, the same night many fans would flock to theaters for advance shows. Even critics would only be allowed to watch the film on Thursday.
Maggie could only hope that this strategy from WB wouldn't backfire on them.
________________________
AN: Visit my personal website to read ahead, or check out my second Hollywood story set in the 80s.
Link: www(dot)fablefic(dot)com