Chapter 122 – Cantonese Cuisine
"Take a break, we'll continue this afternoon!"
Managing such a massive crew was clearly beyond Zack Snyder's current abilities. Every failed take left him more agitated, and his inability to properly coordinate the various departments only added to his frustration.
This wasn't like shooting a commercial or an MTV video—filmmaking demanded far more from a director.
"Let Robert take over the camera. I'll go handle coordination between departments. You need to come back and lead us." Zack's eyes followed the figure of the lead actor, who was now being helped aside by his agent. Only then did he finally admit to himself just how inexperienced he truly was—and how much he'd overlooked.
"You're sure, Zack?"
Wayne had known the truth since the third failed take. Zack Snyder was exceptionally talented, no doubt—but he was far too idealistic and naive. This was not a crew with seamless chemistry. Everyone was still figuring out how to work together. The more pressure Zack placed on them, the more mistakes they made.
This was worlds apart from coordinating a small team for a commercial shoot. Running a film set with dozens of moving parts was a whole different game.
"I'm sure." Zack nodded. "I'm not a genius like you, Wayne. I still have a lot to learn—more experience to gain—before I can really take that kind of position."
The blunt reality hit him hard. He had always believed that all he needed was one shot. One lucky break, and his talent would carry him to the top. But now… he realized pride had blinded him.
"Alright, Zack," Wayne said with a calm nod. "Then stay close and give this your full attention. Participating fully in the production of a film—start to finish—is more valuable than any shortcut. You'll grow faster this way."
He glanced around. The crew was scattering for a break, and he too planned to eat.
"Oh—and Zack," he added, pausing. "Don't push the actors like that. Especially not your lead. Nicolas Cage did great this morning. Talk to him sometime. If it had been a bigger-name star, they wouldn't have lasted even two hours under that pressure."
Not waiting for a response, Wayne turned and headed straight for the director's trailer. These kinds of custom trailers were still a Hollywood specialty at this time—perfect for shooting on location. In a decade or so, they'd become standard for film crews all around the world, a luxury staple for A-list stars and directors alike.
Inside the trailer, Halle Berry had just finished helping the assistant set up lunch. She turned and greeted him with a charming smile.
"You really didn't have to come here. Your next scene isn't scheduled for at least another two weeks."
Wayne took the water she offered and sat down without looking at her.
"So what else was I supposed to do?" she said, her voice breezy. "Sit around in the hotel all day? I figured I'd drop by. You know I don't really understand much about filming anyway."
Wayne tilted his head back and drank without replying. Whatever she wanted to do was her choice—he didn't have the time or energy to waste on her today.
The production's catering was standard and filling, if not especially tasty. But Nina, knowing her boss's style, had gone out of her way. If there was a way to make things more comfortable, Wayne would never settle for less.
She had driven all the way to Chinatown in Lower Manhattan and asked around before choosing a small Chinese restaurant. If her boss liked the food today, she planned to arrange daily delivery from the same place moving forward.
Thanks to a generous tip—more than the actual meal cost—Nina managed to convince the pudgy Chinese-American owner, who had immigrated from across the Pacific, to customize the dishes to authentic taste.
It was something Nina had learned by watching how her boss treated Cameron Diaz: as long as it made him feel better, Wayne never hesitated to spend extra money. A few extra Franklins were nothing to him.
"Boss, try it and see what you think." Nina beamed as she pointed to the containers laid out on the table. "I specifically told the chef to make them authentic—none of that watered-down fusion stuff."
"Looks good," Wayne said as he picked up the chopsticks with practiced ease. The first bite he took was a piece of crispy roast goose—classic Cantonese cuisine.
He honestly couldn't remember the last time he'd had this. Hela's husband knew some basic Chinese noodle recipes, but this? This was something else entirely.
The "fat boss" Nina mentioned was most likely a first-generation immigrant—and a gifted one at that. The Cantonese food he made was the real deal, authentically Chinese through and through. That was rare in the U.S., where genuine Chinese cuisine often didn't suit American palates.
Roast goose, char siu pork, steamed sea bass, blanched Chinese broccoli, garlic stir-fried choy sum, two baskets of custard buns, two more of steamed shrimp dumplings, and a large plate of stir-fried beef ho fun—Wayne sampled each dish one by one, then gave his assistant a thumbs up.
Seeing her proud grin, Wayne didn't bother calling her out. That ordering style was unmistakably Chinese. No American girl would've come up with that lineup on her own.
"All right, you two enjoy the meal. I've got to get ready for the afternoon shoot." Setting down his small porcelain bowl, Wayne gave the two women a nod and stepped off the trailer.
Only once he'd left did Halle Berry finally let out a long sigh and mutter through a mouthful of roast goose, "My god… why does he like such weird-tasting food? This stuff is nowhere near as good as what Hela's husband makes!"
"Don't force yourself, Halle," Nina said gently. She couldn't really handle Chinese food either—but she also didn't fake it in front of Wayne. If she didn't like it, she just wouldn't eat it. Looking at Halle with a bit of sisterly honesty, she added, "You really don't have to do this."
—
That afternoon, the mood on set had clearly shifted. The atmosphere was calmer, more synchronized. The departments stopped clashing and rushing. Even though Wayne wore his usual cold, unreadable expression behind the monitor, his silence brought everyone a sense of steady confidence.
All those failed takes in the morning hadn't gone to waste. Plus, with Zack Snyder back in a familiar role, free from the burden of command, his coordination skills finally clicked into place.
"Cut! That one's good!"
Wayne called out after reviewing the take on the monitor. Nicolas Cage may have been a hothead in his younger days, but his raw acting talent was undeniable.
Glancing at his watch, Wayne picked up the megaphone and called out, "Zack! Get the extras in position. Remind them about their marks. We'll do one more take—then we wrap!"
He had originally expected this intense solo scene to take them right up until sunset. It was intentionally scheduled first to help Cage get into character quickly and to force the crew to sync up early.
Normally, Wayne would have started with something simple indoors. But this time, under tighter scheduling pressure, he chose to begin with the hardest scene instead.
The extras filed in quickly, transforming the street into a bustling crowd. Two actors dressed as police officers took their places at the top of the stairs.
"Joker, Scene One, Shot Two—action!"
As the clapperboard snapped, everyone fell silent and went to work. The sequence was simple: Nicolas Cage only needed to run across the frame a few times. The rest would be handled by Brandon Lee, his stunt double.
That's the primary job of a stuntman—minimize the risk of injury to the lead actor.
To put it bluntly, if a random crew member got hurt, it might cost a bit of money and time to treat them. But if the star got injured, the entire production would grind to a halt, keeping over a hundred people waiting indefinitely—and that kind of loss was massive.
"Cut! That's a wrap! Zack, pack up the footage and lock it in my trailer's safe. Karen, start organizing the crew for wrap-up!"
With the motivation of an early dismissal, the crew nailed the last two takes flawlessly. All in all, it had been a surprisingly productive first day.
Wayne checked off another box on the second page of his shooting schedule—at least the main shots for this street set were done.
It wasn't even 5 p.m.—no one had expected to clock out early. While they might not love how Wayne turned icy the moment work began, they respected him for keeping his word.
"Should we adjust tomorrow's shooting schedule?" John asked. As usual, the moment filming started, he stayed out of the way, only reappearing when it ended. He knew his limits—when you're not good at something, don't try to micromanage, or you'll just make things worse.
"I've been watching Nicolas Cage closely," John continued. "After you did that dance scene, it clearly triggered his competitive streak. He's been in amazing form ever since. If it weren't for the crew slowing things down, we could've shot even more today."
Wayne shook his head as he packed up his prized notebooks and handed them to Nina. "No need to change the plan, John. You have to remember—yes, the crew needs to adapt to the actors, but the actors also need to adjust to the crew. Everyone needs to find their rhythm."
As he gathered his things, he added casually, "Only once we're all in sync can we really speed things up. There are still a lot of tough scenes ahead on this shoot."