Chapter 104 – "Zack Has Arrived"
Some might dislike Mel Gibson's brashness or his inflammatory remarks—but no one has ever questioned his talent or intelligence. The man was a sharp, cunning Aussie wild stallion.
"I've got word," Mel said calmly, "the reason Warner Bros. hasn't fast-tracked Wayne Garfield's new project is because of financial strain. They've already greenlit three tentpole productions this year."
"One of them is The Pelican Brief, already in early production. With stars like Denzel Washington and Julia Roberts on board, their salaries alone have blown up the budget. And that's not counting the other mid-to-high-budget films already underway."
Talking business, Mel Gibson sounded nothing like the reckless drunkard of tabloid fame—his tone was measured, composed, and strategic.
"Warner's scrambling for more financing," he continued. "Their hope was to lock in Wayne Garfield—his project has a high chance of success. But now it looks like that won't happen."
As Mel Gibson's co-manager, Evan Martin's attempt to involve Wayne wasn't entirely altruistic either. If he could use the Oscar bait to draw Wayne in, he'd not only outmaneuver internal rivals at the agency but also push forward his bundled service model.
Part of the offer was to bring Mel Gibson on as a producer—along with funding—to help get Wayne's new project off the ground faster. It would relieve Warner's financial stress and speed up pre-production.
Ironically, though Mel didn't like Wayne personally, he kept a very close eye on the rising director. Anyone who thought Gibson lacked brains clearly didn't know what they were talking about.
He'd managed to thrive in Hollywood despite his rebel image for a reason—intelligence and adaptability.
"Let's leave it for now," Mel said, rising from his chair and buttoning his suit jacket. "It was a long shot anyway. I've got a feeling this kid is going to succeed again. He's in that rare creative state every director longs for—firing on all cylinders, hungry, unstoppable."
It had always been a gamble. If it worked, great. If not, no loss.
"You really think he's got another hit in him?" Evan Martin asked, unconvinced.
"I'd say it's very likely," Mel replied. "I'm a director too, Evan. I know what that fire looks like."
He nodded and left the office, while Evan sat back down, lost in thought.
---
At Los Angeles International Airport—better known as LAX—Zack Snyder quietly dragged his suitcase toward the exit, his face drawn with fatigue.
Outside the terminal, he handed his luggage to a cheerful Black cab driver who helped stow it in the trunk.
"Beverly Hills," Zack said, settling into the back seat. "72 Mulholland Drive. The Garfield Estate."
"Okay!" the driver responded smoothly and pulled out into traffic. As they drove, he kept sneaking peeks at Zack in the rearview mirror. Judging by his clothes, this guy didn't look like someone who belonged in Beverly Hills.
"Yo, man!" the driver flashed a wide grin. "You heading to Beverly for what? Don't look at me like that—ain't nobody living there ever take a cab in their life!"
Zack, not used to the driver's friendly chatter, shifted uncomfortably. But after a glance at the man's expression, he reluctantly replied, "Job interview…"
Then he turned back to the window, clearly not interested in small talk. Truthfully, this rare opportunity had him nervous. He wasn't sure if he'd meet the expectations.
Still, he was confident in his technical skillset. And as fate would have it, he'd studied both of Wayne Garfield's films in detail.
For this young director—someone who was a few years younger than him—Zack Snyder had nothing but genuine admiration.
Wayne had managed to shoot his first full-length feature before even graduating college—on a shoestring budget no less—and still pulled off a massive global box office hit. That kind of boldness and talent made even seasoned directors feel humbled.
Zack Snyder was no exception. The more he thought about it—still stuck directing ads, not even close to breaking into film—the more discouraged he felt.
But it wasn't for lack of patience. On the contrary, Zack had always believed in himself. He was certain that with time and preparation, he'd eventually crash the gates of Hollywood.
And as fate would have it, the opportunity came sooner than expected. A friend tipped him off the moment Jimmy's team sent word out, and Zack responded instantly. He'd been ready for this.
The cab rolled to a stop in front of the wrought-iron gates of the Garfield estate.
"Yo, man, this is as far as I go," the driver called out, throwing a glance over his shoulder. "No way I'm getting in there!"
"I'll walk. Thanks." Zack nodded, handing the man a crisp Benjamin. "Keep the change."
Rolling his suitcase behind him, he walked up to the gate, explained his purpose to security, and was soon led into the sprawling mansion grounds.
Zack stayed quiet as they walked, taking everything in—the immaculately pruned gardens, the manicured lawns, the central fountain in the square, and the grand marble villa built in classical style. All of it left him quietly stunned.
Despite making good money from commercials and music videos, he'd never dared dream of owning a place like this. It was still worlds away from his life.
At the main entrance, Hela dismissed the guard and welcomed him into the massive living room.
"Mr. Garfield is on the third floor. He'll be down in a moment. Would you like something to drink?" she asked softly.
"Coffee, please. Thank you."
When Hela returned with a cup, she noticed Zack looked nervous—hands clenched on his knees, fingers twitching unconsciously.
"Zack Snyder? Nice to meet you." Wayne appeared not long after, casually dressed in comfortable homewear, extending a hand as he approached.
Taking a deep breath, Zack stood and shook it. "Director Garfield, it's an honor."
"Take a seat. Sorry to have you rush over from New York." One look at Zack's tired face told Wayne everything—he'd definitely flown in the moment he got the call.
"My schedule's tight, so we need to move fast. The new project might enter pre-production any time now, and I need to lock down a first assistant director."
"No problem. Ask anything," Zack said seriously, knowing the real test was about to begin.
"Two things," Wayne said, leaning back. "First, the pay. If you're working as my assistant director, it won't be much. Warner Bros. won't offer high rates to a newcomer—certainly not what you earn from commercials. In fact, I'll need to fight just to get them to approve you."
Zack nodded without hesitation. He was prepared to take a financial hit. If he wanted to break in, sacrifices were necessary.
"Second, the job itself. It's going to be tough. I don't just need someone to oversee the shoot."
"There's more?"
"Plenty more. If needed, you'll be involved in production logistics—scheduling, team coordination, solving daily problems. You'll have to learn on the go. Don't worry about seniority—I'll also be acting as producer."
Seeing Zack's flicker of doubt, Wayne reassured him. That kind of concern was expected—anyone would be unsure about their authority in such a big setup.
"But I need to focus entirely on the creative side," Wayne said. "I can't be chasing after every little issue. That's what I need you for—as my right-hand man."
He stared straight at Zack, waiting for the nod of acceptance. And finally, Zack gave it.
"Director Garfield—"
"Call me Wayne."
"Alright, Wayne. Aren't you going to test my actual directing skills? What if we don't mesh stylistically?"
"No need. That tape you sent in was more than enough. Besides, I'm the one holding the camera. We'll find our rhythm as we go. As long as we align creatively, it'll work."
Wayne grinned, stood up, and offered his hand once more.
"Looking forward to working with you."
"Likewise," Zack said, shaking it firmly.
It wasn't until Zack Snyder had walked out of the estate's gates that it all sank in—he'd actually gotten the job. Just like that. Now all he had to do was return to New York and wait for the official call.