Chapter 78: Disastrous Reviews

Chapter 78: Chapter 78: Disastrous Reviews

Once the movie began, Irene’s brow furrowed deeper with each passing minute.

The plot was chaotic, the characters were flat, the dialogue was painfully awkward, and the special effects looked rough even by 2000 standards.

Her inner monologue was impossible to hold back: What is this? How can a movie be this bad? What were the Fox executives thinking? How did this get approved? Please tell me Adelaide didn’t oversee this.

She could clearly hear the complaints and frustration building around her:

"I can’t believe what I’m seeing. Did someone write this script with their feet?"

"Look at those special effects. The video games I play look better than this."

"God, the makeup is hideous. It’s hard to watch."

"This is awful. I can’t sit through any more of this."

Soon after, she heard rustling behind her as people started leaving early.

Irene stayed, determined to see just how bad the film could get.

When the story dragged into a long, nonsensical lecture, a stylishly dressed woman behind her finally whispered to her companion, "Oh my god, how much longer is this? I’m already missing my couch at home."

When the movie ended, there was no applause, no cheering. Only awkward silence and the open disappointment on the faces of the audience as they filed out.

Moving with the crowd, Irene could tell that only about half the audience had stayed until the end. The rest were muttering things like "waste of money," "worst movie of the year," and "total disaster."

She walked quickly out of the theater, and only after breathing the fresh air outside did she feel like she could think again.

She remembered how much Fox had been counting on this film. Looking at the terrible response from the premiere, one thought became clear: Fox’s dream of starting the year with a blockbuster and making big money was shattered. The only question now was how much they would lose.

The next day, before the morning sun had fully cleared the mist over Hollywood, the office of Baird Fergus, CEO of 20th Century Fox, was already tense. It felt like the quiet before a storm.

His desk was covered with fresh reports from the printer and overnight deliveries: audience scores from the screening, summaries of reviews from major outlets, and social media reactions.

Almost no one had given the film an "A." Even a "B" was rare. The page was full of C-minus, D-plus, and F grades.

The Chicago Sun-Times, with Roger Ebert, wrote bluntly: "Battlefield Earth fails on every level so spectacularly that it almost becomes ’so bad it’s art.’ It will be the new standard by which all future bad movies are judged. This is a dull, ugly, pointless, charmless disaster."

Entertainment Weekly gave it the lowest possible grade, an F, and said: "This movie is clumsy, arrogant, and shockingly boring. It can’t even manage to be ’so bad it’s fun.’ It’s simply pure, undiluted badness."

The New York Post added: "This movie is so bad that during the screening, I found myself missing films that were merely ’average.’"

"Bang!"

Baird Fergus slammed his hand onto the desk, making his coffee cup jump. His face was flushed, his chest heaving with anger, and the veins in his neck stood out.

"A joke! We at Fox are now the biggest joke in Hollywood!" His voice roared like a wounded lion, echoing through the office.

"Hundreds of millions invested! A-list stars! We gave Roger Christian every bit of support he asked for! And this is what you bring me? This pile of trash?"

He grabbed a newspaper and threw it to the floor. The pages scattered, the words "disaster," "boring," and "worst of the year" standing out.

"Audience scores below a C? The critics want to nail us to the wall!" He turned sharply to the senior managers standing nervously in front of his desk, his gaze locking on the executive in charge of the project.

"All our marketing money, all our resources are going down with this sinking ship! The more glamorous yesterday’s premiere was, the more ridiculous we look today!"

He took a deep breath, trying and failing to calm down. Finally, he forced himself to issue orders.

"Listen. I want two things done immediately. First, stop all additional marketing and distribution spending on Battlefield Earth. Tell the marketing department not to waste another dime putting makeup on a corpse."

"Second, and most important, cut ties with director Roger Christian completely. Notify every department that Fox will never consider working with him again on any project. I want everyone to know that Fox will not tolerate this level of failure and embarrassment."

He ground out the last words through his teeth: "We cut our losses now to limit the damage. This disaster is a lesson we will not forget. Now, get out and get it done!"

The management team left the office as if they had been pardoned, still shaking. Baird stayed behind alone, his heavy breathing filling the room. This A-list production, which he had personally approved and believed in, had become an undeniable stain on his leadership.

The shadow of failure made him look twice at every other project on his slate, and a sense of dread took hold. He suddenly remembered another animated film he had backed, one with an equally massive budget and new technology that blended 2D and CGI: Titan A.E.

He could not afford another failure like this.

He picked up the intercom. "Mary, have Adelaide come to my office."

Adelaide Griffin knocked and entered the office, which was filled with cigar smoke and tension.

Baird took a deep breath, trying not to let the frustration and anxiety from Battlefield Earth show, and got straight to the point. "Adelaide, what’s the status on Titan A.E. right now?"