Chapter 108 – "Cutting to the Front of the Line"
People change with their surroundings. Looking at himself through the eyes of his previous life, Wayne had to admit he'd become an unabashed, hormone-charged playboy.
As his wealth and influence grew, his willingness to curb his appetites shrank. Nina's pointed glare in the car was a wake-up call: he still had a long climb before he could afford to drown in excess.
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The sedan rolled to a stop in front of the Warner lot. Wayne stepped out in silence.
"Morning, Director Garfield!"
"Hi there, Mr. Garfield!"
The moment he entered the lobby, employees greeted him left and right—an enthusiasm he'd never felt here before.
So this is what changes with status…
Stone-faced, he nodded mechanically all the way to the elevators, unsure how else to react.
"What's gotten into them?" he muttered.
Jimmy jogged up just as the doors began to close and caught Wayne's question.
The agent chuckled, clearly in a great mood. "Wayne, you still don't get it. In Hollywood, only directors who can command a first-tier studio production are considered real heavyweights."
Wayne nodded belatedly—now he understood. He had finally breached the industry's upper crust.
He brushed an imaginary speck from his lapel, joking, "And if I tank this picture, do I still count as a heavyweight, Jimmy?"
"Technically?" Jimmy grinned. "You'll be a bona fide A-list commercial director only if this big budget lands. Your style's too unconventional for easy labels, but there's one universal metric—box office."
Big budget? In this era a few dozen million counted as huge. Hollywood was about to accelerate its global takeover; in a couple of years this film's price tag would look merely mid-tier.
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Warner had assigned a spacious conference room, though only department heads would attend—the real crew would swell into the hundreds later. Robert (Robert Downey Sr.) the cinematographer arrived with just one assistant, but once cameras rolled he'd oversee seven or eight shooters. Every craft chief here occupied the thin air above the rank-and-file.
"Director Garfield! Mind if I sit here?" A jovial voice called from the doorway—someone who clearly knew who held the reins.
"Of course, Mr. Keller." Wayne tried not to show his surprise. The president of DC Comics had personally come to a prep meeting—didn't these execs have anything better to do?
"Please, call me Jonathan." The slightly balding man's Mediterranean hairline and perpetual grin made him look disarming. "Hope I'm not in the way. I just want real-time updates on production. Important for both of us, don't you think, Wayne?"
Wayne gestured to a chair and smiled thinly. High-level suits inserting themselves this early?
All right, he thought. Let's see how many more passengers try to squeeze into this ride.
Wayne had thought he'd successfully brushed him off the last time, but clearly, the president of DC Comics had gone home and thought it over again.
"Alright, Jonathan. Make yourself comfortable," Wayne said with a hint of resignation.
At exactly 9 a.m., Wayne and John sat at the head of the conference table. The Warner Bros. staff closed the meeting room doors, and after exchanging a glance, Wayne rapped the table firmly, drawing all eyes to him.
He cleared his throat and raised his voice.
"Some of you I've worked with before—more than once, even. Others are new faces. I'll say this now: I expect a lot from my crew. If I find anyone who isn't worth the paycheck this production's giving them, I won't hesitate to replace them. John, take it from here."
Establishing authority early was critical. Wayne had to be the one everyone respected—even feared—if he was to keep the production on track and drama-free. Luckily, the interpersonal coordination could be handled by John Gray and Zack Snyder. In many ways, Wayne was playing the role of a producer more than a typical director, while John, nominally the producer, had the softer presence of a traditional director. But so long as they worked well together, labels didn't matter.
"Alright, I'll start with the current prep status," John said, lifting a few printed pages and scanning the room. "The first installment of the production budget—$25 million—has already been deposited into the project's Merrill Insurance account. You'll be able to draw from it after the meeting."
A representative from Merrill, seated quietly in a corner, stood and gave a brief nod before retreating again. As a third-party insurer, their job was simple: monitor the flow of funds and ensure the film would be delivered on time and within budget.
Once Wayne nodded to show he understood, John continued. "We've got sufficient funds to begin full prep. Warner will release the second installment before principal photography begins. I've also sent out casting calls to the actors' unions and major agencies under Warner's name. Schwartz—you'll have a flood of first-round auditions. Be thorough."
"No problem," replied Schwartz Bob, the casting director assigned by Warner Bros., nodding with a professional smile.
With the financials and casting in motion, John turned back to Wayne. As producer, he oversaw logistics—but the director would dictate the creative and production tempo.
Sitting at the head of the table, Wayne scanned the room with a calm but sharp gaze. As his eyes passed over each department head, their expressions sobered.
"Let's get into the specifics of pre-production."
Thanks to Get Out, most of the team had worked with Wayne before. The returning veterans would hit the ground running once John sent out official invites.
"Zack," Wayne called first. "We'll be shooting on location in New York. You know the city. Work with John to arrange logistics and liaise with the local government."
"No problem," said Zack Snyder immediately. "I've been in New York these last few years. Shot a bunch of ads there—have some contacts in City Hall. You can leave that to me."
He threw John a knowing grin. This wasn't a small task. Once the full crew was assembled, they'd be managing hundreds of people. Without strong logistics, any one area could fall apart quickly.
"Karen," Wayne turned to another new assistant director. "After the meeting, contact Industrial Light & Magic. Give them a breakdown of our VFX needs and request a formal quote ASAP."
"Got it, Director Garfield!" Karen Feynman was a Warner veteran. This sort of task was well within his comfort zone.
The group then spent time discussing interdepartmental coordination. It couldn't be helped—turnover in the industry was constant, and you couldn't expect a perfectly oiled machine from day one. Wayne had already gone through this process twice before and understood that chemistry had to be built.
"Alright, that's it for today. Everyone go prep your teams. If anything comes up, don't wait—bring it to me directly." With that, John brought the meeting to a close.
Wayne didn't know more than half the people in the room, but before they left, each one made a point of introducing themselves and shaking his hand. Even if he wouldn't remember every name, not making the effort meant guaranteeing he never would.
Nina, who'd sat silently in the back of the room the entire time, sprang into action. She went around collecting business cards from everyone who'd interacted with Wayne, ensuring her boss would have direct lines to every department head.
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"Wayne, there's one more thing," John said with an uneasy expression. "It's… a little awkward."
Wayne raised an eyebrow.
"Someone pulled some strings with Warner," John continued, forcing it out. "They want an actor to skip the first round of auditions for Arthur Fleck and go straight to the callbacks."
Wayne's face darkened. He didn't even give his own people that kind of shortcut—everyone had to earn it.
"Who is it?" he asked coldly.
"Nicolas Cage. I've got his resume right here."
John didn't like it either, but in Hollywood, backdoor favors were a fact of life. Every production had its share of people trying to jump the line.