Dunn Pictures quietly kicked off its new movie project.
With a budget slated between $12 million and $15 million, Wedding Crashers wasn't exactly screaming for A-list stars to sign on.
Landing someone like Nicole Kidman, like they did with My Big Fat Greek Wedding? Yeah, that wasn't happening again.
Three days later, Christopher Nolan came back with news—Danny Boyle was down to team up with Dunn Pictures.
The script for Wedding Crashers wasn't even done yet. Nolan had probably just pitched him the basic gist, and Danny jumped at it. Guy must be struggling hard in Hollywood to say yes that fast!
"But Danny's got one extra request," Nolan said.
"Let's hear it," Dunn replied, totally cool with it. Any director with a shred of ambition wants to put their own stamp on a film—not just be a hired hand.
Nolan explained, "We've already locked in the female lead. He wants a say in picking the male lead."
Dunn got it right away.
British folks in Hollywood love sticking together.
Think Ridley Scott, Sam Mendes, Guy Ritchie, Matthew Vaughn—even Nolan—all big on casting Brits.
There's this saying in Hollywood: "British stuff? It's never too out there."
Guess their cautious vibe and old-school grit often mean quality.
"No Ewan McGregor, though!" Dunn said firmly. He'd already passed on him for Star Wars, and he wasn't feeling him for this either—dude's style just didn't click.
Nolan chuckled. "After his last flop, Danny's done with Ewan. It's not him this time."
"Oh? Who then?"
"A newbie. You probably haven't heard of him."
"Spill it."
"Jude Law. Been in Hollywood for three years, done a bunch of films—mostly small roles—but his acting's solid."
Dunn thought it over for a bit. "Chris, how about you take a producer gig on this one? Handle the British crew stuff."
Nolan lit up.
Dunn said "these"—plural—meaning he was greenlighting Danny's idea.
"Sweet, Dunn! I bet Danny'll freak out when I tell him!"
…
Word spread fast in Hollywood: Dunn Pictures was casting for key roles like the second lead and supporting female parts in their new project.
Nobody knew Dunn wasn't directing, so they were all like, "Wow, this guy's young and unstoppable—new girlfriends all the time, cranking out movies non-stop!"
Dunn had to spend ages explaining to George Lucas that he was just producing, not directing.
He was still tied up as the director of Star Wars: Episode I – The Phantom Menace, popping into Lucasfilm all the time for post-production.
The folks at WME called, offering a package deal, but Dunn politely said nah.
Endeavor sent over a list of actors too, hoping he'd give their clients a shot.
My Big Fat Greek Wedding's huge win had skyrocketed Nicole Kidman's career and proved Dunn Pictures had a knack for wedding movies.
Even with low pay and no lead role, it was still a chance to shine for fans worldwide!
Dunn handled it all like a pro, smooth as ever.
To him, Wedding Crashers was small potatoes. The real prize? Snagging Marvel.
But buying Marvel meant big bucks, and Dunn wasn't about to cash out his precious Yahoo stock before 2000 unless he absolutely had to.
Wedding Crashers was his cash cow to fund the Marvel grab.
Rumor had it, Marvel's team was imploding over Dunn Pictures' buyout offer—management and the two main shareholders were at each other's throats.
Internal chaos, debt piling up.
No surprise, Marvel Entertainment and Dunn Pictures would be back at the negotiating table soon.
But while Dunn was charging full speed at Marvel, a lion crept up behind him.
Lionsgate, riding high lately, reached out with a proposal—invest in Dunn Pictures and set up a cross-ownership deal.
Since starting in 1997, Lionsgate had scooped up a bunch of small gear makers and distributors. After a year, they'd built a solid distribution network across North America.
Something Dunn Pictures hadn't pulled off yet.
Plus, Dunn Pictures' finances were always shaky, and with the Marvel buyout buzz, cash was tight. Lionsgate offered to chip in some funds.
Dunn cracked up when he heard it.
Even Warner had to tiptoe around, partnering with Dunn Pictures bit by bit to eventually snag a stake.
Lionsgate? Who did they think they were?
Some Canadian big shot thought he could waltz into Hollywood with a few bucks and run the show?
"Tell 'em to get lost!" Dunn shot back, not mincing words.
He wasn't about to play nice with clueless moneybags like that.
Lionsgate?
Dunn's sights were on the Big Six studios. Little players like them didn't even register.
…
Danny Boyle was a polite, humble British gent—Dunn loved working with directors like him. Issues? They'd talk it out, no drama. Not like dealing with James Cameron or Alfonso Cuarón and their blowups.
Today, Dunn was at the casting for the second male lead.
Besides him and Danny Boyle, Christopher Nolan, Glenn Feyero, and a few others were there too.
Dunn stayed quiet the whole time, just scribbling notes, until a good-looking guy stepped up.
"Hey everyone, I'm James Franco, 20 years old. I studied acting with Robert Carnegie and just wrapped a big role in DreamWorks' comedy series Freaks and Geeks—18 episodes. I've got comedy chops, so I think I'd nail the second lead in this movie."
Unlike the nervous wrecks before him who could barely talk, James Franco was chill and confident—clearly came from something special.
A peek at his resume? Yup, special alright.
His parents were Stanford grads, and he'd been at UCLA, a top public uni, before dropping out to chase acting in Hollywood.
Dunn always had a soft spot for dreamers like that.
Plus… this was *the* James Franco?
"You say you're good at math?" Dunn asked, breaking his silence for the first time. The others turned to look.
Danny Boyle frowned a bit. The kid had a cool vibe and a sunny look, but… he didn't fit the role.
He'd stand out too much next to Jude Law—steal the lead's thunder. Bad for the movie.
James Franco, recognizing Dunn, couldn't hide his excitement. "Yeah! After high school, I interned at Lockheed Martin—you know, the folks who make the F-117 stealth bomber."
The F-117? Total Hollywood action flick darling.
Dunn waved a hand with a smile. "Got any hobbies?"
"Music, painting, writing. My idol's Faulkner—I'm all about art!"
"So why movies?"
"Movies are art too, right?"
Dunn laughed. "James, you're awesome. I've got a feeling you're gonna kill it in acting."
"Thanks, Director Walker!" James beamed. "So, should I do a scene?"
Dunn shook his head, dead serious. "No need, James. This role's not right for you."
"Huh?" James' face fell. "Director Walker, I can do it! Give me a shot—let me perform!"
"Hold up, you've got me wrong," Dunn said, motioning him to chill. "It's the role itself—you don't fit Wedding Crashers' second lead. But I'm betting we'll work together soon."
"R-really?"
James looked bummed, thinking it was just lip service.
Dunn got stern. "James, trust me. For the next year, don't take any gigs—especially no TV. It'll burn out your public image! Sign up for a legit acting class, sharpen your skills. And… maybe get a coach to work on some action moves."
James Franco was a legit genius—published a new math algorithm in high school, won awards for his paintings, a true artist.
Out of all A-list actors, only two ever got stuff in top academic journals: him and Natalie Portman.
High IQ, higher EQ. He caught Dunn's drift fast, eyes lighting up. "Director Walker, you're doing a superhero movie, aren't you? Gotta be! I love Thor and Daredevil!"
Dunn's face twitched slightly.
This kid was sharp—too sharp. From one hint about "action," he'd connected the Marvel buyout dots. Hope he's that quick with acting too.
"America's all about Spider-Man!" Dunn said, giving him a deep look. He caught James' "aha!" grin.
Dunn waved him off, amused. "Alright, James, you're good to go. Looking forward to working together."
"Definitely! Director Walker, I won't let you down!"
James left buzzing, happier than if he'd landed the role!
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