"Jimmy, I just got a text—ha, did someone hack your phone?"
Tom Cruise called Jim Gianopulos, the head of Twentieth Century Fox's production department, his tone light and half-joking.
He'd just received a message saying he'd been dropped from the lead role in Minority Report. Hilarious!
A scam text like that? Totally amateur.
Jim Gianopulos paused for a moment before saying slowly, "Tom, about this… you need to stay calm. Keep it together."
"Huh?" Tom Cruise blinked, chuckling. "Jimmy, what are you talking about? Keep what together?"
Gianopulos sighed. "Tom, that text from earlier… I sent it. Just wanted to give you a heads-up. The official termination notice is being sent to you through your agency right now."
Tom Cruise froze. That signature grin of his stiffened. "Jimmy, you're kidding, right? Haha, you've got to be kidding."
Gianopulos frowned, his voice firm. "Tom! This isn't a drill. It's not a joke—it's real. After discussions with the project's investors, they've all agreed you're not the right fit for the lead in Minority Report. You're out."
"No way!"
Tom Cruise's eyes turned bloodshot, his voice spiking into a roar.
Gianopulos wasn't pleased. "Tom, I told you—stay calm!"
"Why? You owe me an explanation! I'm Tom Cruise! This project even exists—got funding so easily—because of me! So why?"
Tom was losing it, his words a jumbled mess of furious questions.
Gianopulos, a high-ranking exec at Twentieth Century Fox—rumored to be in line for vice chairman and president, the number-two spot—didn't appreciate the tone. He replied coldly, "Why? You really don't know?"
Tom was too worked up to catch the hint. Then something clicked, like a lifeline. "Wait—Steven! He's the director. He's got my back!"
"Steven Spielberg… yeah, he's the director. He's got a big say in picking the lead."
"Exactly!" Tom exhaled, relieved. "He'll fight for me with the investors. He'll back me up."
Gianopulos nearly laughed. "Tom, you're not getting it. Minority Report has seven investors. Aside from your production company, the other six—including DreamWorks—all voted to replace you."
"What?" Tom's scream sounded like a pig being slaughtered. "That's impossible!"
…
Half an hour later, Tom Cruise finally cooled off.
His emotional intelligence might be lacking, but he wasn't dumb.
Yelling at these old-timers would only backfire and tick them off.
Taking a deep breath, he called Jan de Bont, the lead producer of Minority Report and a legendary action movie producer in Hollywood.
"Jan, I'm confused. Am I really fired?" Tom tried to keep his voice steady.
Jan sighed. "Yeah, the news that you're out has already spread through the crew."
"Why? I need an explanation."
"Look… I can't do anything about it, Tom. You know I've always wanted to work with you, but I'm just a producer. The real power's with the investors. I have to go along with what they decide."
Jan's tone sounded totally innocent.
"Can you push for me a little?" Tom Cruise hadn't spoken this softly to anyone since he'd hit it big.
"Uh… that's tough. It's already set in stone." Jan brushed it off casually, then quickly changed the subject. "Anyway, Tom, I've got to run—work's piling up."
…
This time, Tom reached out to Gary Goodman, another investor and producer on Minority Report. "Gary, what's going on? Why are they replacing me?"
Gary said, "Honestly, I don't know the reason. You know I'm a huge fan of yours!"
"So you're on my side?"
"Of course! I argued hard for you, but it didn't matter. My stake's small, and my voice doesn't carry much weight. I couldn't change the outcome."
Tom was fed up with these fake platitudes. He frowned. "Gary, can you just tell me—who suggested dumping me?"
Gary chuckled. "Tom, you've been an investor yourself. You know that's confidential business stuff. I can't spill that to an outsider."
"Outsider?" Tom's scalp tingled with rage. "I'm an outsider?"
Gary无奈地 shrugged over the phone. "You used to be the lead, part of the team—family, right? But now… you're not tied to Minority Report anymore. I can't share sensitive info like that with you."
Tom took a deep breath. "Fine. Then tell me—who's the new lead they picked?"
"That's still under wraps. You'll find out in a few days, heh." Gary's deflection skills were top-tier. He pivoted fast. "Tom, it's just one gig. No big deal. You're Tom Cruise! Even without this, better offers will roll in."
Tom was shaking with anger.
With his status and talent, losing Minority Report wouldn't leave him short of work—he was a Hollywood superstar, after all. But… he couldn't swallow this!
Back in 1999, he'd teamed up with Twentieth Century Fox and Steven Spielberg, publicly announcing their collaboration on Minority Report.
For over two years, it'd been hyped up. Everyone knew Tom Cruise was the lead.
And now, with filming about to start, he'd been sacked!
It was infuriating enough to make anyone lose it!
Tom didn't care about the gig itself—he cared about his reputation!
Getting canned like this, with no reason given? A top-tier Hollywood star like him—where was he supposed to put his pride? How could he show his face?
He'd be a laughingstock in Hollywood!
Still not giving up, Tom finally called Steven Spielberg.
Two years ago, they'd agreed to work on this film together.
Spielberg was the world's most famous director. His promises had to mean something, right?
"Steven, they're saying I got fired. Is that true?"
"Yeah."
"I need an explanation!"
Spielberg's tone was heavy. "Tom, you're a Hollywood star, a producer. I always thought… you'd get this."
Oh, great—same playbook he used with Dunn.
"Get it?" Tom huffed. "I don't get it! Unless I'm misremembering, two years ago, we locked this down—I'd be the lead! We even signed a contract!"
Spielberg said, "The contract stuff, Twentieth Century Fox will handle. And you know the biggest player here is Fox. I'm just the director—I don't have the final say! Plus, your involvement has already caused some instability for the project. The investors don't want the film's future to be unpredictable."
"Instability? What's that supposed to mean?" Tom blinked, confused.
Some things others wouldn't dare say, but Spielberg had no qualms, even with Tom Cruise. "You don't know what you did?"
Tom sat there, stunned, before muttering, "Wait… is this because I didn't want to work with Natalie Portman? No, that can't be it…"
"What can't be?"
"Natalie Portman's just some second-rate starlet! I'm a Hollywood heavyweight! Status, experience, box office pull, influence—how does she even compare?"
Spielberg shook his head, his voice cool. "Sure, Natalie's nowhere near you in any of that. But don't forget—there's a big player standing behind her."
"Dunn Walker?"
Tom's eyes widened, shock and disbelief written all over his face. "No way! He's just a director who's had a few hits. What gives him the right to mess with our project? Minority Report is a Twentieth Century Fox production, not Dunn Films!"
Spielberg sighed. "Tom, clearly you don't realize how much authority and influence he's got."
"Huh?"
"Do you know who the new lead for Minority Report is?"
"Who?"
"Nicolas Cage!"
Tom smirked dismissively. "Him? Some guy coasting on family connections, barely scraping by in Hollywood, and he's supposed to match me?"
Spielberg frowned faintly. "I won't judge Nic's talent. I'll just give you the facts—he got the lead role in Minority Report because Dunn recommended him."
"Dunn recommended him?" Tom scoffed repeatedly. "Steven, I'm not an idiot. You think anyone's buying that? He can dictate casting for a Twentieth Century Fox movie? Even Michael Eisner couldn't pull that off!"
"Yeah, Michael Eisner couldn't. But Dunn did."
"Steven, you… you're serious?"
"Dead serious!"
Hearing Spielberg's firm, resounding answer, Tom Cruise collapsed. His face froze, his whole body slumping like he'd been dropped into the Arctic Circle, too cold to even shiver.
"Dunn!"
Tom took a deep breath, nearly coughing up blood.
In that moment, he finally grasped what a ridiculous, absurd mistake it'd been to push Natalie Portman out of the crew!
Dunn… had somehow gained this terrifying level of influence!
If only he'd known sooner!