Chapter 411: A Hint of Offense

Chapter 411: Chapter 411: A Hint of Offense

Beyond the star-studded cast, the premiere that night brought together the top leadership from Hollywood’s six major studios; half the industry was in attendance, creating an imposing atmosphere with undercurrents of tension.

As the core investors of the film, the senior executives from Fox and Disney were all present, beaming with confidence and radiating a sense of absolute certainty throughout the event.

Paramount, which was in a deep honeymoon phase with Echo Pictures, also had its CEO, Sherry Lansing, attend in person; she maintained an approachable demeanor throughout, clearly demonstrating just how much she valued Irene.

Furthermore, industry heavyweights like Warner Bros. executive Mark Barrett and Universal Pictures helmsman Ron Meyer all made appearances, each taking the initiative to greet Irene and build rapport, eager to maintain their cooperative relationships with Echo Pictures and Irene.

The most surprising attendee was the notoriously stern and demanding head of Walt Disney, Michael Eisner.

In the past, when attending industry events, he always wore a serious expression and projected a cold, intimidating aura, naturally commanding the presence of an industry leader while rarely appearing relaxed.

But tonight, his expression was exceptionally relaxed, with a confident smile in his eyes and an air of calm self-assurance about him, looking every bit like a man who knew he had already won.

Everyone knew that the massive success of Pirates of the Caribbean: Dead Man’s Chest was a foregone conclusion; with the backing of two major studios, top-tier production quality, and nationwide anticipation, it was destined to sweep the summer box office and set new records in film history.

Michael Eisner’s relaxation and confidence stemmed precisely from the immense profits and industry prestige this film was about to bring.

As the red carpet greetings concluded, all guests, media, and audience members took their seats, the house lights slowly dimmed, and the noisy venue instantly fell silent.

Accompanied by the classic, grand overture of the Caribbean, images of the deep blue ocean unfolded, and the premiere screening of Pirates of the Caribbean: Dead Man’s Chest officially began.

When that familiar, uninhibited figure reappeared on the big screen and Jack Sparrow made his entrance in his most unique way, the audience could not contain their excitement, erupting into a synchronized, enthusiastic wave of cheers and applause.

After two years, the audience was reunited with this roguish, free-spirited pirate captain; his familiar rakish charm and casual, carefree style instantly evoked a wave of nostalgia.

As the plot unfolded, compared to the first film’s scope, which was limited to a small port town, the sequel expanded into a much broader and more fantastical pirate world.

Mysterious deep-sea curses, the undead Flying Dutchman, eerie sea monsters, and scattered pirate treasures all made their appearance; the grand oceanic map, the complex layers of plot foreshadowing, and the fully upgraded special effects completely overturned everyone’s perception of traditional pirate films.

The film was perfectly paced, with adrenaline-pumping naval battles, thrilling escapes, and humorous interludes expertly interwoven, keeping everyone’s eyes glued to the screen.

The massive theater was packed, and almost no one lost focus or left throughout the entire screening.

In particular, the sequence where Captain Jack was besieged by a tribe of island savages and nearly sacrificed was comedy gold.

Jack’s cleverness in outwitting the entire tribe of savages was hilarious and witty, full of delightful contrast.

The atmosphere on screen resonated perfectly with the audience, who were laughing uproariously; the waves of laughter and excited exclamations continued throughout the scene, creating an incredibly enthusiastic viewing atmosphere.

Throughout the entire screening, the audience’s excitement remained high; the film was packed with laughs, thrilling moments, and suspense, and the feedback from everyone was overwhelmingly positive and enthusiastic.

From the immersive reaction of the audience, it was certain that Pirates of the Caribbean: Dead Man’s Chest was a successful sequel that far exceeded expectations and perfectly avoided the "sequel curse."

Whether in terms of special effects, plot depth, character charm, or commercial appeal, it had reached the top-tier standard for the year, and its status as the summer box office champion was already locked in.

Richard White, the marketing director of Universal Pictures who was sitting in the back of the theater, had a complex expression throughout the screening, his heart filled with relief and lingering fear.

As the core decision-maker who had pushed for rescheduling The Bourne Supremacy, he finally let go of the last shred of doubt and hesitation in his heart.

If his team had stubbornly insisted on holding their ground for the July release date and gone head-to-head with this terrifyingly massive, nationwide blockbuster, the final outcome would have been disastrous.

The Bourne Supremacy, even though it had excellent reviews, outstanding suspense, and was a high-quality sequel, it was ultimately a realistic spy film with a limited audience.

Its scale, popularity, and mass appeal simply could not compete with this phenomenal fantasy blockbuster.

A direct collision would have inevitably resulted in being completely crushed by the opponent’s overwhelming popularity; theater screenings would have been severely squeezed, and general audience ticket sales would have been completely diverted.

They would have ended up with good reviews but a box office failure—their perfectly good ace sequel would have been knocked over and suffered significant losses by this pirate juggernaut that had appeared out of nowhere.

At this moment, Richard was thoroughly relieved about the rational decision made during that department meeting to retreat at the right time, avoiding a massive crisis for both his career and the company’s project.

In contrast, the person in the theater who felt the most relaxed and smug was none other than the helmsman of Disney, Michael Eisner.

Watching the enthusiastic feedback from the audience and feeling the exceptional quality of the finished film, this notoriously strong-willed and demanding capital mogul had eyes full of calculated certainty and the relaxation of one who already held the winning hand.

The explosive success of this major sequel would not only bring billions in global revenue to Disney but also firmly cement Disney’s absolute dominance in the field of top-tier Hollywood special-effects blockbusters.

The only thing that annoyed him was that Disney was not the sole investor in this film; Fox was also going to take a slice of his cake, and their share was even higher than theirs, which was truly unpleasant.

The film finally ended, the lights slowly came up, and the theater erupted in prolonged applause.

The cast and crew stood up to acknowledge the audience, and the celebrities in the venue rose to mingle.

Michael Eisner, who was notoriously stern and rarely took the initiative to court younger generations, broke precedent by stepping forward to intercept Irene as she prepared to converse with others.

He looked down at the young director before him, his tone flat and perfunctory, carrying a hint of condescending approval from a superior, and said indifferently, "Good job, keep it up."

It was a simple compliment, yet one could not hear a shred of genuine appreciation in it.

There was no mutual respect; his posture was extremely arrogant, and his tone was dismissive, as if Irene’s contribution—co-producing, overseeing the entire process, and carrying the bulk of the film’s quality—was merely an insignificant byproduct, and as if Irene were just an unremarkable subordinate under his command, completely ignoring her absolute value as a core creator.

Standing on the side, Robert Iger took in the whole scene.

His brows furrowed imperceptibly, and he secretly felt it was inappropriate, even faintly sensing the offense in that attitude.