August 25.
A quick take: Billy arrived for the tough scenes, the ones where he had to give every bit of himself. He'd been in the role of Neo for two months, but now he could see how the character was beginning to merge with him—how the role was transforming into a version of Neo filled with magnetism. Unlike in the first movie, his eyes now showed more confidence, though he still tested the ground with a trace of doubt. He wasn't a man who flinched at fear. Neo always inspired confidence. Neo was strong, self-assured. But Billy brought something new to the classic hero's journey—the internal struggle of a man unsure of how to step fully into his role as Neo.
Anne Carrie Moss watched Billy, who now seemed to never break character. Despite his packed schedule—meetings to attend, books to write and publish, comics to oversee—he remained immersed. The comic book world was a domain she barely understood.
And yet, even submerged in character, he didn't seem lost. He looked up, his eyes lighting up, and offered a warm greeting.
–It's good to have friends. –commented Anne Carrie Moss.
–Well, you've only got a small role. Nothing too exciting. –Billy replied. It wasn't a lie—her part was that of an Elf, a role with little screen time.
Still locked into his role, Billy kept his phone aside unless strictly necessary. He had to give something of his life to this. His mind was entangled. Anne would play Celebrían, in a Third Age story—a family drama set in Rivendell. It was already being mapped out with Christopher Tolkien: a short series of 15 episodes to be released by Lux Animation. Hour-long episodes covering the War of the Last Alliance, beginning with a director who could honor Peter Jackson's vision and continuing with a true series—from start to finish—explaining the war of Elendil, Gil-galad, and the final alliance of Elves and Men.
A battle on the plain of Dagorlad, the siege of Barad-dûr—even if it meant hiring actors without significant reputations, it would be done, as long as the vision could be realized. Anne Carrie Moss would be part of it as Celebrian.
–The director hasn't signed on yet, and Peter Jackson's only producing, but your spot is secure. We'll need a strong audition. –Billy explained, seeking that quiet beauty—even if it wasn't pronounced. He had even considered hiring Jennifer Connelly for Arwen's role, in case Liv Tyler wasn't available. He still believed that the original casting had been brilliant.
–People won't stop talking about you doing Lord of the Rings. –whispered Anne Carrie. –It's been going around for a while. People say you brought the Star Wars series back to life successfully. And now you've gotten Spielberg to direct something outside his usual lane. –
–Steven asked for a fortune for that role. It was a bit excessive. I think he lowered his fee for George Lucas, his good friend—but, well, he's a Jew through and through. They like making money when they know they've got leverage. –Billy remarked, remembering the $65 million he paid—and would keep paying—for the cast.
–I see, yes. –She was calm, with a particularly relaxed air—nothing intense or off-putting. Her performances, though defined by her acting, weren't far off from the peaceful aura she naturally carried. It was true that the image of the director mattered, but with Billy maintaining peace and respecting the director's choices, everything flowed. The director wanted Claire Forlani—truly one of the most beautiful women of the moment—who could easily play the Jewel of Rohan, even if Miranda Otto's performance was far from negligible.
She accompanied him to a third meeting with Peter Jackson, who had begun to grow impatient waiting for production to start. But Billy viewed time as the process of collecting all the returns from the Asian crisis—a financial storm hitting all Eastern economies, signaling both a rise and a fall.
–They always make these productions so rigorous. –Anne Carrie asked.
She noticed a pattern: in most productions, there was always a role behind the scenes. But with projects like The Matrix, it was a year-long commitment, and The Lord of the Rings looked to be a three-year journey just for filming. How long had he held the role in his hands? The investment was unsustainable for anyone without deep pockets.
***
–Sometimes. But only for things like this. –Billy answered.
Anne took a deep breath as she looked over the company's financials for the first and second halves of the year. The business had grown 35% in several segments, thanks to the expansion and support for new illustrators who now had their comic series. In total, there were three distinct comic lines.
The first line, with nine active or paused series, belonged to Billy. He had become the biggest asset of Lux Comics. It was like a fever—people collected his comics to fill entire bookshelves. Sales often surged when they released collector's packs of complete works, selling bundles of old series for $500.
Next came the Dungeons & Dragons and Warhammer lines, along with the Workshop Comics series.
The third line consisted of 11 teams, whether solo authors, groups, or freelance artists working for Lux Animation. Some built on Billy's stories, while others had original works, such as Hellboy, Davil Jill and the American War, the melancholic comics of Anna Zymansk, who found a way to narrate and storyboard her tales, later adapted by Lux Animation. There were also Doom remakes, extra Walking Dead stories, horror tales told like The Experimental Lands, as well as content from Star Wars, Resident Evil, and League of Legends, which was becoming a short-form game.
–Director. –whispered Felicity Thompson, her large blue eyes and model-like frame catching the attention of the company's head.
–I want to see the full company stats, s—requestand s, and distribution reports. Raimon gave me some papers three months ago, but I'd like to review things myself. Let's start with legal matters. A company is a mirror of dissatisfaction. –Anne said. She always began with litigation records. At first, she hadn't understood why—but she had since learned that administrative decisions often echoed in three small but telling areas: number of lawsuits, number of layoffs, and the cleanliness of the workplace. The first thing she checked was the hard-to-clean spots—or places that got dirty too often.
As she walked, the machines flew rhythmically across the room. Her heels clicked with purpose. She knew change could come if time allowed it. Billy had bought special machines capable of printing one million copies per run—no headaches required. Efficient machines that completed in a day what used to take a week.
A six-foot-high machine stood alongside others—cutters, image processors, band-printing units. Tapes rolled the sheets of paper forward as daringly sharp laser printers did their work. High-quality printers that, if not for the security seals, could easily print perfect banknotes.
She passed through every corridor. Just by catching her reflection on the steel, even inspecting the restrooms, she could sense the state of things. There were a few lawsuits. Once she reviewed the numbers, she checked off her list. Her work was nearly done. She hadn't finished earlier because somehow, Billy had stolen her time when they traveled to Australia.
...