For now, there was no way to know exactly how Laila would handle the issue of distributing screen time in the film. Fans and superhero enthusiasts outside the production could only judge based on the minute-and-a-half of footage shown in the teaser.
Anyone could see that conclusions drawn from that alone were bound to be one-sided—and prone to error. But on one point, almost everyone agreed: ensemble films are hard to make.
Which meant that no matter how cool and dazzling the airborne carrier was, it might only earn her a portion of the profits. As for the all-time box office record—well, that was something best left to dreams.
Laila's fans hated this kind of talk. To them, she was capable of anything. Even if she seemed to throw together a pile of random nonsense, they believed it would have a deeper meaning and still rake in huge box office returns. On the other hand, Avatar fans loved the critic's analysis—they thought he was right.
Not just anyone could be compared to James Cameron! Sure, Laila had made some good movies, but—harsh as it sounded—she was a woman. By nature, her vision and scope could never surpass a man's.
They insisted this wasn't sexism, but "natural aptitude." Men liked pirates, battles, and action movies; women preferred tales of princes and princesses, love stories, and dreamy plots. The differences were obvious.
A commercial blockbuster was not a drama, much less an art film. It required a broader vision, more thrilling pacing—things they claimed Laila, as a woman, inherently lacked and could hardly develop later in life.
Just look at her past work. The Lord of the Rings was her most successful film, but it focused more on story than "thrill." People were captivated by its strange, wondrous world and praised its brilliant plot. But a true commercial blockbuster? That needed to pump adrenaline far more.
Laila herself was unsurprised by such commentary. If she ever did something without drawing out haters to argue and tear her down, then she'd be shocked—so much so that she might have her people pose as haters just to stir up some negativity.
The logic was simple: she needed controversy. Controversy bred discussion, discussion created buzz, and buzz drew attention. With attention, the box office would follow.
That was why haters—so feared and loathed by others—had never been her source of frustration. Hadn't she always let Cooper attack her openly? Because every time, he could zero in on her "flaws" and help fan the flames.
Cooper was a formidable opponent. He could spot angles others missed and twist them with skewed reasoning that still resonated with plenty of like-minded people.
By comparison, these current haters were amateurs. Claiming "ensemble films are hard" as a criticism was laughable. This was Laila Moran they were talking about—the same woman who had swept the Oscars with The Lord of the Rings, a true ensemble film that she had handled beautifully.
Using "ensemble" to attack her was a poor choice indeed.
But it didn't matter—most people wouldn't believe that hater's words anyway, and those who did believe him wouldn't be swayed even by the clearest counterargument. No one could wake a person who was only pretending to sleep, after all.
So after glancing over the comments, Laila went right back to work, not taking the online noise to heart—in fact, she almost hoped they would make more of a fuss. A little warm-up before the real marketing push never hurt.
At times like this, she especially missed Cooper. If he were here, he would target something far sharper. Without his verbal battles, the current attacks lacked bite. "Ensemble film" was too shallow a jab—anyone who knew her even a little wouldn't fall for it. Only Cooper truly understood her mind.
And right then, the Cooper she was thinking of was also staring at the online chatter.
Though they were rivals, his thoughts weren't much different from hers—he, too, felt contempt for these so-called haters. People who attacked just for the sake of attacking usually only wanted the attention and respect they couldn't get in real life. Often, those who cursed celebrities most viciously online were the ones living at the very bottom day-to-day.
Unable to earn goodwill in the real world—whether due to personality or other reasons—they vented their resentment anonymously online.
Reading that hater's post, Cooper could only respond with a flat "heh."
Yes, ensemble films were hard—but would Moran fail at one? Did they think her Oscars were the result of some baseless "sexism" scandal in the past?
Laila's skill was real—and formidable enough to merit the word great. Great Hollywood Director Laila Moran.
To tear her down, he would have his sock-puppet accounts mock her as unworthy of the title. But in truth, it fit her perfectly.
Her past achievements didn't even need repeating. The fact that she had become the youngest woman ever to win Best Director at the Oscars—before turning thirty—was enough to justify the word "great."
Thinking a single "ensemble" criticism could dent her influence? That was underestimating both Laila and the world.
So, with a cold smile, he began typing.
Of course, he wouldn't praise her. Like the haters, his goal was to criticize and discredit her—to make those who might have bought tickets reconsider, to make them believe, deep down, that it would be a flop unworthy of their time.
His chosen target was also "ensemble films"—but his angle would be sharper, more precise, and far easier for people to accept.
"To speak of ensemble films, Moran is hardly unfamiliar with them. She can do them very well. This is clear from The Lord of the Rings and even her earlier SAW. She's highly skilled at portraying multiple characters."
"Laila Moran is, after all, an Oscar-winning director. Her ability to helm a film is beyond doubt. Time and again since her debut, she has showcased her talents to the world. So assuming she'll fail simply because it's an ensemble film is wrong."
"But even so, she still faces one fatal problem!"