By the third week, A Blind Man's Gambit had shifted from feeling like a film to becoming more of a daily routine.
Every morning, the domestic numbers landed on Greg Lang's desk like clockwork. And every morning, they continued to surprise him.
Monday: $13.4 million
Tuesday: $13.1 million
Wednesday: $13.6 million
No dramatic drop during the week.
"They're not even waiting for the weekend anymore," Greg said into the phone, a mix of amusement and unease in his voice. "They're treating it like an event."
On the other end, Harry lounged in his study chair, Sparky curled up at his feet. He had stopped visibly reacting to the numbers days ago.
The praise had sharpened too.
Cate Blanchett's performance quickly became the talk of the town. Reviewers shifted their descriptions from "elegant" and "controlled" to words like menacing, unsettling, and dangerously casual. One critic noted that she "smiled like a woman who already knows the ending." Another remarked that she portrayed cruelty "as if it were muscle memory."
Meanwhile, Daniel Hayes was making waves.
Not in a literal sense—Harry had ensured he wasn't overexposed—but in conversations everywhere. The initial disbelief about his portrayal of blindness transformed into admiration for its precision. People highlighted the stillness in his eyes, the subtle shifts in his posture, and how he seemed to navigate by sound, even in scenes where the truth was ambiguous.
"He never overplays it," a radio host commented. "That's what makes you question him."
Anne Hathaway's reception was more subdued but still promising. She didn't steal the headlines, but she certainly didn't fade into the background. The phrase "one to watch" trailed her like a persistent footnote. A columnist in Entertainment Weekly referred to her as "the emotional anchor of the first act".
Harry read that review twice and smiled.
Europe was next on the list.
France kicked things off with a bang—way beyond what anyone had expected. The audiences in Paris immediately connected with the film's unique structure, embracing the idea that ambiguity was more of a feature than a flaw. Germany followed suit, and then Italy joined in. In London, tickets flew off the shelves days ahead of time, and Dream Theatre's main location even added extra late-night screenings.
By the end of the first week internationally, the global box office had already surpassed $210 million.
And by the month's end, it hit a whopping $300 million worldwide.
The industry was taken aback.
This wasn't how things were meant to unfold—not like this. Not for a suspense thriller without a franchise backing it. Not for a film directed by someone who had only recently transitioned from television and directed only one film till now.
And yet, here we were.
Trade magazines rushed to update their stories. Analysts who had initially described the film as "modest but respectable" were now buzzing about its "rare legs" and the concept of "repeat-viewing economics." Studio executives quietly nudged their development teams, wondering why they didn't have something similar in the works.
Harry celebrated in the only way he knew how.
By opening up his home.
The gathering wasn't over the top. Toni arrived early, already in a good mood with a drink in hand. Greg came in, looking noticeably lighter than he had in weeks. Daniel burst in, loud and cheerful, instantly taking control of the music. Jeffrey showed up with his partner, being polite and observant. Javier drifted in a bit later, bringing wine and tales from his ongoing collaboration with Cormac.
Cate Blanchett was the last to arrive.
Dressed in black with an effortless grace, she scanned the room. When her eyes landed on Harry, a slow smile spread across her face.
"So," she said, grabbing a glass from a passing tray. "This is what success looks like."
Harry lifted his own glass in response. "Cheers?"
Cate chuckled softly, her gaze drifting past him to where Anne was chatting with Toni by the window.
"You've really made a name for yourself," Cate remarked. "And for your leading ladies, too."
Anne noticed the look and blushed slightly, pretending to concentrate on her drink.
Harry let out a sigh. "You thrive on this."
Cate leaned in a bit closer. "I thrive on reactions. And you give me plenty."
Later, Anne found Harry in the kitchen, casually leaning against the counter.
"She scares me," Anne whispered.
Harry grinned. "She's nice....mostly."
Anne shook her head, unable to hide her smile. "You must know best. Afterall you two were in headlines start of the year."
Harry opened his mouth to speak but then closed it. He had no response.
Their conversation was cut short by Daniel, who was already deep into a story.
"And then I realized," he exclaimed, "that if I leaned too far into the blindness, Harry would make me do it all over again."
Harry pointed at him. "Perfection demands sacrifice."
Daniel laughed. "You took six tries just to adjust a glass on the table."
"And on the seventh," Harry shot back, "you finally stopped overdoing it."
Daniel raised his drink in acknowledgment. "Touché."
Later that evening, as the conversations began to drift and the music mellowed, Anne took Harry aside.
"I just got a call," she said, trying to keep her tone light.
Harry raised an eyebrow. "From who?"
"Disney."
He paused, a hint of surprise crossing his face. "Disney?"
She nodded. "It's a comedy. Something fun. A princess story."
Harry frowned a bit. "Already?"
She shrugged. "They mentioned they liked my work here and that they're moving fast."
Harry let out a slow breath, taken aback. "That project… wasn't it....."
Anne blinked in surprise. "You know about it?"
Harry offered a faint smile. "I was just thinking about latest industry gossips."
She chuckled, unaware of how close she was to the truth.
As the night wound down, laughter filled the air, easing the earlier tension. Even Cate lightened up, clinking glasses with Daniel and exchanging witty banter with Greg. For a brief moment, it felt less like a victory celebration and more like a collective sigh of relief.
But reality came rushing back.
With December approaching, the shadow of a giant loomed.
The Lord of the Rings: The Return of the King.
Screens were reassigned. Showtimes were cut. It was a given. No film could escape that kind of impact unscathed.
Yet, even as theaters scaled back The Gambit, it refused to disappear completely. Smaller screens held on. Independent cinemas kept it alive. European theaters extended its run.
In the end, the domestic total settled just above $250 million.
Globally, the figure stood at $400 million.