Jessica Alba's name was, of course, familiar to Dunn. Not just from his past life's memories, but also from a list of actors that Ari Emanuel had sent him a while back.
Endeavor, a newly established agency, was Ari's baby. While he had big-name male stars like Robert De Niro, Mel Gibson, Matt Damon, and Denzel Washington under his wing, his roster of female stars was pretty thin. Right now, Charlize Theron was the only one holding up the fort.
That's why Ari had jumped at the chance to buddy up with Dunn. He was hoping Dunn's movies could help him launch another A-list actress into the spotlight.
After hearing about the *Spider-Man* movie getting greenlit, Ari sent Dunn a carefully curated list of promising actresses. It included some names Dunn recognized—like Sienna Miller and Scarlett Johansson—and one that James Cameron had mentioned: Jessica Alba.
"One role, two favors? That's a pretty sweet deal!" Dunn smirked, his eyes lighting up as he chuckled. "Alright, tell her to swing by my company when she's free. If there's no hiccups, the leading lady gig is hers!"
Cameron shifted awkwardly. "Dunn, isn't that… a bit hasty?"
"Haha, James, we go way back!" Dunn grinned, clapping him on the shoulder as they headed into the screening room. Then, a thought struck him. "Oh, by the way, did you invite her to tonight's premiere?"
Cameron shot him a wary glance.
"No time like the present, right? Maybe we can lock down the female lead tonight!" Dunn flashed a carefree smile, not hiding his enthusiasm. "What do you think, James?"
Cameron's brow furrowed slightly. He opened his mouth to say something but held back.
That's just how the industry worked—what could he do about it?
…
As night fell, the red carpet outside the Times Square theater lay empty, with only security guards still standing watch.
Inside the packed screening hall, every seat was taken. The *Star Wars Episode I: The Phantom Menace* crew and invited guests sat up front, followed by critics and media in the middle, and lucky fans filled the back.
After a short ceremony, the room finally hushed.
The iconic 20th Century Fox logo blasted onto the screen with its epic fanfare.
"A long time ago, in a galaxy far, far away…"
That classic opening line stirred memories for countless fans. With the soaring symphony kicking in, *The Phantom Menace* officially began!
The audience held their breath, eyes glued to the screen, not wanting to miss a single frame.
Cameron watched intently too. He knew this film might just set a new benchmark for special effects!
In the vastness of space, a sleek, badass spaceship streaked across the starry sky toward a blue planet.
Gasps rippled through the back rows. The ship looked *so real*, and the grandeur of the cosmos—the dazzling stars—felt like something you could reach out and touch.
Even that opening shot had pros in the crowd nodding in approval.
Times had changed, alright. Sixteen years after the original *Star Wars*, the effects had leaped forward—sharper, more lifelike, just plain better.
As the ship touched down, the story started to unfold.
The dark side of the Force was brewing trouble with a new evil faction. The powerful Trade Federation had boldly invaded the peaceful planet of Naboo, aiming to kidnap Queen Amidala and force her to sign a treaty legitimizing their takeover.
When the Jedi Council got wind of this, they didn't mess around. They dispatched two of their best—Qui-Gon Jinn and Obi-Wan Kenobi.
Cameron, fully absorbed, blinked in surprise when Liam Neeson and Ben Affleck appeared as the Jedi duo. He gave a wry smile, shaking his head, and leaned over to whisper to Dunn. "The acting's a bit off. Kinda pulls you out of it."
Dunn sighed softly. "At least they *look* the part—real warrior vibes. James, you might not get it, but George… he's getting old."
*Old?*
That loaded word hit Cameron hard, and he got the hint.
Even though Dunn was directing, it sounded like he'd been boxed in during production. This wasn't like their *Titanic* days, when they'd teamed up, set aside differences, and crafted a masterpiece.
"Such a shame," Cameron muttered, shaking his head. His focus on the film noticeably waned.
As the story deepened, the movie's framework became clear.
Critics in the middle rows started frowning.
The plot felt… basic. You could guess the ending five minutes in.
But the fans? They were eating it up! The Jedi whisked Queen Amidala off Naboo under heavy fire, only to crash-land on a desert planet.
There, Qui-Gon stumbled upon the prophecy's "Chosen One"—Anakin Skywalker.
With Anakin's help, they fixed the ship and escorted Amidala to the Republic's capital.
Dunn had tightened up the next chunk of the story, making it snappier.
Queen Amidala begged the Senate for help but got nowhere. She even tried impeaching the Chancellor, only to find the new one just as useless.
Out of options, she made a gutsy call: return to Naboo alone and face the invaders head-on.
"I'm the Queen of Naboo! I won't abandon my people to save myself. We live together—or we die together! Padmé Amidala belongs to Naboo!"
Young Natalie's acting was still green, but under Dunn and his assistant director's guidance, she nailed the queen's raw emotion. That little spark of defiance lit up the screen—she was the brightest star of the night!
"Natalie's gorgeous!" fans in the back gushed.
"Natalie's performance holds up," a critic scribbled in their notebook.
"Your little girlfriend's carrying the whole movie's acting," Cameron whispered to Dunn with a smirk.
Dunn beamed proudly. "Of course! In my book, Nat's the best! "
Cameron chuckled, turning serious for a sec. "She's a real talent. I'd love to work with her sometime."
Dunn laughed—he knew Cameron was just returning the favor for boosting Jessica Alba. But favoritism aside, Natalie truly was the standout, in this version *and* the original.
In Dunn's director's cut, he'd given Natalie tons of screen time, only for Lucas to slash it. The guy preferred goofy kid-friendly bits and cutesy animated characters—stuff critics and pros found laughable—over showcasing real talent.
Even so, Natalie's Amidala outshone the Jedi duo.
Her scenes convincing the Gungans to fight? Pure fire. That do-or-die spirit came through perfectly. Hard to believe someone so petite could radiate *that* much power!
Meanwhile, Liam Neeson and Ben Affleck in the background? Yikes—tough to watch.
Finally, thanks to Amidala's grit, the Gungans agreed to ally against the Trade Federation's droid army.
The big climax was coming!
Critics perked up, surprised, glancing at their watches.
Hollywood's assembly-line formula had timing down to a science.
But Dunn's movie? The pacing felt… off.
Normally, the third act hits when the villains seem unstoppable, hope fades, then the heroes rally for the final showdown.
Here, though, it felt early.
Per the runtime, there were still 40 minutes left.
What—a 40-minute climax?!
Critics exchanged skeptical looks. Was Dunn serious?
Too much adrenaline for too long could backfire—fans might not connect.
Cameron squinted at Dunn thoughtfully. "He's banking on nonstop action to save a shaky film. Bold move… but can he pull it off?"