By late October, the Mr. & Mrs. Smith crew wrapped up filming in France and headed to New York for the final stretch. Barring any surprises, the movie would be mostly done by mid-November. "Mostly" because Mel Gibson still had some scenes to reshoot, which would wait until The Unsinkable finished in mid-December, with filming resuming in January.
Dunn's own project, A Beautiful Mind, had been dragging along—he figured it wouldn't wrap until early December. Right now, though, his main focus was on the test screening for Saw, handled by Focus Features.
With the quality of this film, Dunn was dead certain that if Miramax were running the show, they wouldn't even bother with a test run. They'd go straight to a nationwide release, easily hitting 2,500 theaters on opening weekend! But Focus Features, freshly acquired and still building its reach, didn't have that kind of muscle yet.
The good news? They'd skipped the usual preview rounds.
In the U.S., movies follow a pretty polished release playbook. A test screening is basically a pre-release hype session in the country's biggest cities, drumming up buzz before the official rollout. For Saw, they'd set up screenings in 20 theaters across 20 major cities—New York, Boston, L.A., Chicago, you name it—to gauge word-of-mouth.
Dunn had greenlit a $1 million budget for early promotion. Director Zack Snyder cut a 20-second trailer that aired on Fox TV, but with its toned-down edge, it didn't make much of a splash. Some second- and third-tier gossip rags ran stories too, but the attention was meh at best.
A million bucks for marketing? Peanuts for a movie campaign. Honestly, it might not even pack the punch of a single word from Dunn himself. But he wasn't about to trade on his own rep for this one.
Saw was intense—way too intense. Some viewers had legit passed out in theaters. Sure, that proved how scary it was, but it wasn't a good look. Dunn wasn't going to risk his name pushing a film with such a shaky moral vibe. Better to let Saw simmer, build its rep through word-of-mouth, and draw fans in slowly.
October 30th, evening.
Dunn roped Natalie into catching a screening at a theater in downtown Boston. They dressed down, blending in, flanked by two plainclothes bodyguards as they slipped inside unnoticed. Dunn scanned the poster-covered walls for ages before spotting Saw's poster tucked in a corner. It was simple but brutal—a bloody, sawed-off hand.
Natalie's face went pale. "I… I'm kinda regretting this."
"Let's give it a shot. If it's too much, we'll bail," Dunn said, patting her waist and grabbing her hand. With tickets from the bodyguard, they quietly ducked into the screening room.
It was a small theater, and barely anyone was there—less than ten people.
"Not much buzz, huh?" Natalie frowned. As Dunn's girlfriend, his wins were hers too.
Dunn stayed chill. "It's just a test screening. Takes time."
…
Five minutes later, the movie kicked off.
The opening shot hit hard with creepy vibes—dark, damp, claustrophobic; lonely, terrified, tied-up people. Natalie grabbed Dunn's hand tight, her fingers cold.
He grinned, leaned over, kissed her soft cheek, and whispered, "Don't freak out. I'll check the crowd's vibe. If it's too much, we're out in half an hour."
Natalie bit her lip, saying nothing.
After some cryptic, fast-paced dialogue, the screen flared up—the lights in the sealed room flicked on. That's when the audience realized someone else was there. The camera panned, revealing a dead guy on the floor, head smashed, blood everywhere.
"Ahh!"
The first scream ripped through the theater.
Dunn smirked. Just a splash of gore and they're losing it? Wait till the plot kicks in—they'd be bawling.
As the story unfolded, the pieces started falling into place. The tied-up guy, "Lawrence," got a hint: kill the other dude, "Adam," by 6 p.m., and he'd go free. It was a brutal test of humanity—save yourself by taking a life, or spare them and lose yours? Oh, and the kicker? Lawrence was a doctor.
The grim choice was too much for Natalie. She yanked Dunn out of there, refusing to watch another second.
"I'm never seeing a movie like this again!" she huffed as they stepped outside, venting her frustration.
Dunn shrugged helplessly. "The rest of the crowd seemed into it."
"Into it?" Natalie scoffed. "They were too scared to breathe! People who like this stuff must be messed up in the head."
Dunn chuckled, shaking his head. "And you majored in psychology? It's called thrill-seeking, not messed up. The real headcase is the guy in the movie, not the audience."
Natalie frowned. "What if—hypothetically—some nutjob watches this and copies it?"
Dunn rolled his eyes. "What's that got to do with me? Someone saw a movie and shot at the president—should Taxi Driver get banned? Nobody's clipping Hollywood's free speech!"
"But Scorsese, De Niro, and Jodie Foster all took career hits for years because of that," she pointed out, still frowning.
Dunn grinned, all cocky. "My Nat, so smart!"
She pouted, dead serious. "Look, I just think you should steer clear of projects like this going forward. You don't need the pocket change, and it's not worth denting your rep. Big directors tackle edgy stuff, sure, but they land on the right values. Saw… it's too divisive."
Dunn went quiet for a sec, then smiled. "Alright, you win! Only one person in the world can rein me in—Natalie Portman!"
She smirked, rolling her eyes. "Oh, please. I can't control you."
He shook his head. "You've already got a big hold on me."
Natalie's lips curved into a shy smile, her face glowing.
…
The next morning, while on the A Beautiful Mind set, Dunn got a fax from Focus Features.
The test screening results were in.
Across 20 cities, 20 theaters averaged 9 showings each. They sold 2,548 tickets at $5.40 a pop, pulling in $13,759 total. For Dunn, used to box office hauls in the tens or hundreds of millions, this was grim.
But test screenings aren't about ticket sales—they're about audience reactions.
Every ticket buyer got a survey to rate Saw. Out of 2,548 handed out, 1,789 came back. Of those, 478 gave it an A, and a whopping 1,047 gave it an A+. Less than 60 rated it B or lower.
For a "cheap" $1.5 million B-movie, that kind of score was unreal—way beyond expectations.
Word-of-mouth? It blew up overnight!