….
April 30, 2014.
….
[Keanu Reeves Private Garage]
The sun hung low over the Los Angeles skyline, casting long, amber shadows across the concrete floor of the private garage.
And inside it stood a man–
Alexander Tobias.
It had been six months since the release of [The Whiplash].
Six months since his life had turned upside down.
Not because it bombed at the box office.
On the contrary, it was because of its massive success he hadn't expected even in his dreams, with his debut film.
The film had collected $160 million worldwide.
Even Regal was kinda surprised by the result - in his last world, the film only collected somewhere around $50 million.
But as he spent his last five years and got used to the various audiences reception to the film, he noticed something different from his past world:
This world audiences have a voracious appetite for art films too.
And when he says 'appetite' - it is so immense that the art films could medium budgets commercial films.
Yet, there was also something Regal noticed:
Despite having finished the Oscar Season - Alexander's shelf remained empty of the golden statuette.
The result was like a reverse curse.
In his old world, the Academy gave awards to art films like pity tips. 'Oh, you didn't make a dime? Here, have a statue so you don't feel bad.'
But here? Alexander made a bank, and also got the love of the people.
So this makes all the films - commercial and art films - have the same starting point.
This realisation was something that had made Regal almost vindicated.
He held a deep-seated disagreement against the awards system of his past life, where a film like [The Avengers: Endgame] didn't receive a single award, except for its Visual Effects.
For him, the film deserves much more for all the writing, building of decades of work and finally making something meaningful out of it.
So he very much likes this situation where–
The film is rewarded for its work, rather than being seen as 'commercial' and 'art film'.
Of course there are politics everywhere, as Regal did believe 'Ross Oakly' deserved the best supporting role award, and 'Stephen Jr.' for the best actor award.
But that had nothing to do with the 'Best Film' or 'Best Screen Play' award.
….
Coming back to Alexander, just as waited for two more minutes - the sound of a Norton Commando roaring down the driveway caught his attention.
The bike slowed, as the rider kicked the stand down and pulled off his helmet, shaking out now messy dark hair.
Keanu Reeves–
He looked exactly as he had when Alexander first met him during his days of A.D while working for [Death Note] regularly after the shoot whenever he came to visit Regal, and they grew even more close at the shoot of [The Hangover].
"Alex." Keanu greeted, a genuine smile breaking across his face.
He extended now ungloved hand. "Sorry I am late. Traffic on the 405 is a nightmare, even on a bike."
"You are right on time, K." Alexander replied, gripping the hand firmly. "It's good to see you."
"Coffee?" Keanu offered, walking over to a workbench where a pot was brewing. "It's not Starbucks though."
"Black is fine." Alexander said.
For the next few minutes, they leaned against the workbench, sipping the bitter coffee, surrounded by half-assembled motorcycle parts - just talking about their personal business.
Keanu wanted to talk about his experiences of watching [The Whiplash], while Alexander wanted to know about Keanu's adventurous and uneventful life.
It was comfortable, and natural for both of them.
In an industry run by agents and sharks, Keanu was an island of tranquility, and so was Alexander for Keanu. But eventually, the silence stretched a little longer than usual. Keanu set his mug down and looked at Alexander.
"Regal told me you were working on something." Keanu said softly. "He said you haven't slept in weeks."
Alexander let out a dry chuckle. "Regal talks too much."
"Maybe. But he only runs his mouth like that when he's trying to point at something… and from how he phrased it isn't a drama."
"It is…. everything." He reached into his jacket and pulled out the script. It was thick, bound in a simple black cover. "I need to know if you are interested before I take this to the studio."
The manuscript did not have any artwork. Just the title in a stark, Courier font–
[THE MATRIX]
Keanu picked up the script. "Tell me about it."
Alexander leaned back, and Keanu recognized the shift in his posture - this was director mode, the transformation that happened when Alexander stopped being nervous and started being passionate.
"It's about reality." Alexander began. "About what we perceive versus what actually is. The story follows Thomas Anderson, a software programmer who lives a double life as a hacker named Neo.
"He has been searching for something his whole life without knowing what it is. Then he meets a group of rebels who reveal the truth: the world he knows is a simulation, a computer-generated dreamworld designed to keep humanity docile while machines harvest our bodies for energy."
Keanu felt something stir in his chest. "Go on."
"The real world - our world - was destroyed in a war between humans and machines. We created AI, and when we tried to shut it down, it fought back. We scorched the sky to cut off their solar power, but they adapted. They started using us as batteries. The Matrix is the prison they built for our minds while they use our bodies."
"Dark." Keanu said.
"It gets darker. But it's also about hope. Neo is 'the One' - a person prophesied to end the war, to free humanity. The story is his journey from disbelief to acceptance, from ordinary person to savior.
"It's Neuromancer meets Joseph Campbell meets Ghost in the Shell. Philosophy and action. Questions about free will, destiny, the nature of consciousness - all presented by stylized and over the top martial arts."
Keanu flipped through the pages. The action sequences were detailed, almost choreographed on the page. The dialogue was sparse but purposeful. "You wrote this?"
"Well, the idea came from Regal, actually. When we were wrapping up [The Hangover], he just threw out this concept: 'What if the world isn't real? What if it's all code?' He was very vague, but he talked about simulation theory and eastern philosophy. I went home and couldn't stop thinking about it."
"Yeah, I figured… the way this story unfolds reminds me a little of my first film, [Following]."
"It carries a similar tone," Jack agreed.
"So he really doesn't want to write it himself?"
"Apparently not."
They both nodded.
Ideas and concepts are something that a writer keeps it very close to themselves, never wanting to disclose them - but clearly seeing Regal not doing that meant one things:
He wanted Alexander to develop the idea.
"Anyway, I asked his permission and have been writing this, but had to keep it on hold as I was too doubtful about my capabilities and taking too long, and Regal decided to push me into [Whiplash] project. Still, it took me eighteen months and three complete rewrites to finish this script."
With that, Keanu continued reading, his eye catching on a scene where Neo chooses between a blue pill and a red pill - one to forget everything and return to comfortable ignorance, one to learn the truth no matter how painful.
"This is definitely a huge project for us. How are you planning to shoot this?"
"That's the thing." Alexander's eyes lit up. "I have been working with visual effects houses, storyboarding every major sequence. With some effort and having on board a competent team it is possible–
"Bullet time photography, and most importantly CGI. I also want to create action sequences that feel like they break the rules of physics - because in the Matrix, they literally do. If you know its code, you can manipulate it."
"Bullet time?"
"Imagine the camera rotating around a frozen moment in time. Someone dodges bullets in slow motion while we see the bullets themselves traveling through the air."
Keanu looked up, a spark of genuine curiosity in his eyes. "Kung fu?"
"And guns." Alexander said. "More than just a few. But the action isn't the point, K. The action is the philosophy manifested physically. In [Whiplash], the violence was in the music, in the drumming. Here, the violence is in the realization of truth. It's about waking up."
Keanu set the script down carefully. "What's the budget?"
"Seventy million. Right, its sounds absu–"
"It doesn't." Keanu interrupted. "This film needs that budget, and after seeing your capabilities in [Whiplash] I am positive there will be a studio to bet on it."
"That was a small budget film, and mostly a character study."
"But Regal trusted you, didn't he? You learned from him. How to build a world and to make every frame purposeful."
Keanu tapped the script. "I can see his influence here. The way you're planning this as a trilogy from the start - that's pure Regal. He always thinks in arcs."
"Yeah." Alexander rubbed the back of his neck. "The second script is already outlined. The third is sketched out. I learned from watching him work - you don't just make one film and hope for the best. You plan for the long game."
But he turned silent and watched Keanu closely, this was the moment.
The script was complex.
It required an actor who could project vulnerability and god-like power simultaneously. It needed someone who the audience would root for, even as he dismantled their reality.
"I need you to be Neo." Alexander said, his voice dropping an octave. "I didn't write this for anyone else. You have that quality, K. You look at the world like you're not quite sure you belong in it. That's Thomas Anderson."
Keanu looked down at the script again. He flipped to the end.
"The wire works." Keanu said, looking up. "I have never done anything like that. It would take months of training."
"I researched about it, and it takes a maximum of four months." Alexander said. "I also want other characters to do the same though. You, Laurence, Carrie-Anne... I want everyone to do it for real. No stunt doubles unless it's life-threatening."
"You have really thought this through."
"I have the storyboards in my car and the concept art for the Sentinels. I know how the green code looks and the lobby scene sounds." Alexander paused. "I just need the One."
Keanu closed the script. The garage was silent, save for the distant hum of traffic on the highway.
"You know." Keanu said thoughtfully. "After [Following], I got offered a lot of cop roles. A lot of romantic leads. Easy money. But Regal told me once... he said, 'Don't make movies for the audience you have. Make movies for the audience you want to create.'"
"I don't get the physics of the bullet time stuff yet." Keanu admitted. "And the whole 'human battery' thing is terrifying."
"Is that a no?" Alexander felt his heart sink slightly.
Keanu smiled, that slow, enigmatic smile that the camera loved so much. "No. It means I am going to need to learn Kung Fu."
Alexander let out a breath he felt like he had been holding for two years. "Yeah. You are."
"Who is producing?"
"Regal is Executive Producing. He is putting up the first twenty million to get the studio off our backs. He wants us to have the final cut."
Keanu nodded, impressed. "Regal really believes in this." He added. "But again, when did he do something he didn't believe in?"
Alexander chimed in. "He thinks this movie is going to break the industry and the Art Film lovers are going to analyze the philosophy, and the popcorn crowd is going to lose their minds over the visuals."
Keanu picked up the script again, weighing it in his hand.
"The Matrix." He murmured. He looked at Alexander. "When do we start?"
"Pre-production can start from next week, starting with you getting into the gym." Alexander said, a grin finally breaking through his professional mask. "In the meantime, we can find the production studio, before jumping into filming."
"I am in." Keanu said simply.
Alexander's face broke into a genuine smile. "Yeah?"
"Yeah. On one condition."
"Name it."
"You don't compromise on the vision. I don't want this to simply be ambitious projects that get watered down in development. If we are doing this, we are doing it right. The philosophy, the violence, the weirdness - all of it stays."
"Deal." Alexander extended his hand across the table. "Thank you. Seriously. This means everything."
They shook on it, and Keanu felt the familiar thrill of beginning something new, something potentially remarkable.
Keanu laughed, a rich, hearty sound. "Alright, Alex. I am completely in your hands."
"Me too. Let's give our best."
.
….
[To be continued…]
★─────⇌•★•⇋─────★
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