Ever since Anne Hathaway became enemies with Isabella, she had been keeping a constant eye on her movements.
She couldn't help it — failure was frightening, yes, but watching your rival succeed was infinitely worse.
Under her vigilant watch, everything that happened after The Chamber of Secrets hit theaters unfolded before her eyes—
When she saw that The Chamber of Secrets had run into the same kind of trouble Star Wars did — tangled up with small fry like Die Another Day, harassed until it could barely breathe — and that the media had begun lowering their box office forecasts from over a billion to 983 million, 941 million, 891 million… and finally to 865 million, her heart started pounding with excitement.
Sure, 865 million was still a number ordinary directors could never dream of. Many spend their whole lives making films without ever breaking half a billion in total. Yet Isabella had two consecutive films each breaking eight hundred million? That was god-tier performance.
But — in the film industry, a box office drop in a series doesn't mean the same thing as a revenue drop elsewhere.
In the restaurant business, declining sales might just mean the food's gotten worse — change the recipe, and you might bounce back.
In the auto industry, declining sales might be due to PR or customer image — a few social media campaigns can fix that.
But in film? When a series starts dropping at the box office…
That's not something you can fix by sheer effort.
The logic behind it is actually simple:
"Film series" are fundamentally unfriendly to casual viewers.
When a series runs for seven movies and totals over a thousand minutes, how many newcomers are going to jump in halfway through?
People who haven't seen the earlier ones will often be totally lost.
Of course, you could say people can "catch up," just like binge-watching a TV show.
And sure, video rentals were booming in the West — just rent a few tapes and you're caught up.
Okay, that logic works — but there's a big difference between how people catch up on TV and how they catch up on movies.
American TV shows are subscription-based — if you subscribe to HBO, you can watch HBO; subscribe to Disney+, and you get Disney+.
Most people subscribe without a specific show in mind, so if you stumble on something great, rewatching earlier episodes costs you nothing extra.
But for movies?
Before Netflix introduced subscription plans, video rentals were per film.
And they were expensive — much more than TV subscriptions.
Even after Netflix launched its monthly plan, they couldn't get big studio films right away.
Why? Because selling DVDs was still hugely profitable. If the Big Six gave Netflix their hits immediately, their own sales would plummet.
So Netflix had to wait — often six months — before those titles were available.
And that delay made it hard for casual viewers to "catch up."
So — that's how Hollywood's "series curse" came to be.
A film series' long-term success depends entirely on whether its first two entries show positive growth. If they do, it means the franchise is winning over new audiences.
But if they drop?
If the second one performs worse than the first?
That's trouble.
As a series goes on, new fans decrease sharply, while the core base starts to erode. People's patience for the same story isn't endless — interest fades, and once that happens, box office numbers begin a steady decline from the middle onward.
That's why most Hollywood series end at "3."
Only Star Wars managed to go beyond that without a reboot.
That's what makes it an "epic-level" IP.
Other series lose casuals and alienate fans; Star Wars somehow gained more with every film.
Still, even Star Wars cheated a bit — starting from Episode IV, it was technically a prequel series.
So, if you're strict about definitions, there's only one franchise in the entire world currently shooting a true fourth installment — Harry Potter.
Warner Bros. really bet the house on this one.
And they got lucky — The Sorcerer's Stone was a phenomenon, almost hitting a billion. Everyone in the industry believed Harry Potter would break the "sequel curse."
Warner might dominate the next decade.
But sadly, all that optimism came to an abrupt halt in the winter of 2002…
Because The Chamber of Secrets failed to break a billion.
Its box office dropped with the second film.
Harry Potter was powerful — but not invincible.
So…
"Mom! Isabella's influence doesn't seem as strong as everyone thought!"
Anne Hathaway, eyes gleaming, turned excitedly toward her mother after watching the evening news.
Kate knew what her daughter meant. If Harry Potter's pull on general audiences wasn't as strong as predicted, then how much of Isabella's popularity was truly hers? Hard to say.
Because Isabella's fame came entirely from Hermione Granger. If her fanbase was mostly HP fans, then with the franchise shrinking, her followers might not decrease — but they definitely wouldn't grow. That meant even if she stayed the queen of Young Adult films, she couldn't monopolize that market.
"You still want to take The Princess Diaries 2, huh?"
Kate sighed, locking eyes with her daughter.
"Yeah."
Anne nodded seriously. "Even if I'll never be a Disney princess again, I still want to keep my franchise. Mom, you know — not every actor gets one."
Any film that can become a series means big money — huge money.
And by Hollywood's ranking rules, an actor with an ongoing franchise is, at worst, a solid B+.
With a little luck and effort, they're A-list.
That's the charm of commercial cinema.
So Anne wasn't about to give up The Princess Diaries. As for her mother…
"If we can embrace the commercial side, that's ideal," Kate said after some thought. "But if we can't, we shouldn't force it."
"So my advice is this — keep talking with Joe. Hold on to The Phantom of the Opera, and wait for Isabella's next film to release. If it blows up, we drop Princess Diaries completely. But if it flops…"
"I'll talk to Disney again for you. Sound good?"
"Oh, Mom! I love you!" Anne beamed, throwing her arms around her mother.
In Hollywood, having your eyes on multiple projects was totally normal.
There were only so many good ones — if you didn't fight for them, what were you even doing here?
Meanwhile, someone else was just as pleased — Lindsay Lohan.
She was finishing up filming Freaky Friday, with just about a week left.
Honestly, when that smaller project overlapped with Chamber of Secrets' release, Lindsay's mood had been terrible. Every day the news celebrated HP — breaking UK preview records one day, hitting the second-highest opening weekend in history the next — even surpassing Sorcerer's Stone.
Who could focus on work hearing that every day?
But once Die Another Day hit and Chamber stumbled — those "second place, second place, second place" headlines had her grinning ear to ear.
She even felt like her acting suddenly improved overnight.
No matter what scene she shot, she nailed it.
That fluid, natural performance — wow, she was born for an Oscar!
"Okay!"
"Cut, good!"
When director Mark Waters called "Good!" again, wrapping the day's shoot, Lindsay walked off set and headed over to her mom.
A light cough drew Dina's attention from her newspaper.
She looked up, stood, and accompanied her daughter back to the hotel.
On the way, Dina said, "Chamber of Secrets' box office is about to fall to third place."
"Warner's new release Analyze That 2 is about to premiere."
"That's Robert De Niro's movie — the first made $176 million."
"Oh—" Lindsay replied casually.
And then said nothing more.
On the surface, she didn't care. But in truth…
Dina glanced at her daughter in the rearview mirror.
Lindsay was staring out the window, seemingly calm — but the corners of her mouth had curved up just a little.
Dina swallowed and went on, "Paramount called again today."
"They said as long as you're willing, Queen Bee is yours."
The mention of Queen Bee made Lindsay frown.
She hated that project.
She wasn't a "mean girl"!
But she also knew it was probably the best offer she'd get right now.
Disney had dropped her, after all.
So…
"Let's hold off responding."
"Why?"
"Let's see how Isabella's next film performs first."
Lindsay said, "If her new movie bombs, it proves she can't dominate the Young Adult market — then we can demand a higher pay rate from Paramount."
In Hollywood, actor salaries depend both on personal value and market context.
The first is about your brand.
The second — the industry reality.
If every studio believed Isabella owned the YA space, they wouldn't invest in more YA projects. Even if they found one worth making, they'd lowball the creators — claiming the genre was already monopolized.
Yeah — when it comes to underpaying, capital has never been shy.
Why pay more if you can pay less?
And would creators turn it down for low pay? Ha.
An actor's career can be long, sure — but their prime is short. If the industry stops making YA films, who suffers most? The actors who depend on them.
Young stars have to act in young roles.
Move up to adult films, and you're competing with the B- and A-listers — good luck.
So if Paramount called Lindsay a "bratty diva"? Oh, well — that's business. She deserved her raise.
But to get it, Isabella's film had to fail first.
"What if it succeeds, though?"
Dina looked at her daughter again in the mirror.
"It won't."
Leaning back in her seat, Lindsay grinned wide.
"Mom, Warner Bros. is tearing itself apart already. How could she possibly win?"
"My enemy might be her — but her enemies are way bigger than me…"
And sure enough — in this rigidly hierarchical world, everyone's rank was defined by power.
Harry Potter had rocketed Isabella to the top, yes — but siding with Warner also meant she inherited their enemies.
So at that very moment, watching her closely… was New Line Cinema.
"Boss, at this rate Chamber of Secrets will top out at $230 million domestically. Sorcerer's Stone did $250 million. That $20 million gap means Chamber definitely won't surpass it — at least not in North America. Which means we might actually take the annual box office crown with The Lord of the Rings."
New Line's headquarters were in New York.
Right now, founder Robert Shaye was listening to his assistant's report from his Fifth Avenue office.
The thought of finally claiming the top spot thrilled him.
Ted Turner had promised: if he could make New Line outperform Warner Bros., he'd be promoted to head of the entire film division under AOL Time Warner.
And what did that mean?
In plain terms — if he became king while Barry Meyer was still running Warner, Meyer would have to bow, kiss his hand, and respectfully call him Godfather.
The mere idea of kicking Barry Meyer's ass with his shiny new shoes made Robert Shaye giddy. Everyone in the industry had their grudges.
Before Ted Turner acquired New Line, Warner had made their lives hell — sabotaging their distribution and home video operations because they wouldn't sell off IPs like Nightmare on Elm Street and Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles.
If not for Turner, Warner would've crushed them.
Even after the merger, New Line lost half its library to internal politics — Castle Rock, the studio behind The Shawshank Redemption, was originally under New Line control. Warner snatched it.
Revenge had once seemed impossible.
But now?
Heh.
Payback was within reach.
"If The Lord of the Rings takes the crown, our numbers this year will look incredible, right?"
Leaning back, feet propped on his desk, Robert Shaye asked lazily, "If I'm not mistaken, that'd give us two films in the domestic top ten?"
"Yes," his assistant confirmed. "Besides Lord of the Rings, we have Austin Powers 3."
That one had cost $63 million and made $296 million — a 4.7x return, fantastic numbers.
And with Beyoncé (of Destiny's Child) singing on the soundtrack, the album had topped UK charts and hit #27 on Billboard — a big deal.
Altogether, Austin Powers 3 had earned New Line over $100 million in pure profit.
Once The Lord of the Rings crushed Chamber of Secrets…
"Hahahahahaha~~~!"
Robert Shaye stuck out his tongue, laughing silently.
"Okay, I get it. You can go now."
After a moment, he waved the assistant off.
He wanted to savor this moment alone.
But the assistant hesitated. "Boss, one more thing."
"What?"
"I know we're doing great, and it looks like we'll beat Warner this year," he said cautiously, "but Warner still has one more unreleased film — Chris and Isabella's The Global Voice."
Though The Chamber of Secrets had stumbled…
In a blockbuster's world, "below expectations" still meant the whole world was watching.
But Warner still went ahead with the promotional campaign for The Voice.
After The Chamber of Secrets crossed 150 million at the North American box office, on November 26, Warner released the trailer for The Voice.
With the boost from Harry Potter and Warner's full backing, the trailer spread across the globe in no time.
The response was solid.
Third-party box office forecasts even projected at least $100 million in North America and $200 million worldwide.
Sure, that was far below Ace 3, but since Warner had reported a production cost of just $20 million, a tenfold return on investment would make Ace 3's success look tame.
Because, to Hollywood shareholders, movies are really just financial products.
Shareholders don't understand production or operations. They look at profit margins, ROI, and risk premiums.
So, a tenfold return — in their eyes — easily beats 4.7 times.
And that's why…
"Don't worry about The Voice," said Robert Shaye, waving his hand. "If I'm not mistaken, The Voice opens on December 25, right? Christmas Day?"
"Warner's smart — they know the kids are off for Christmas, plenty of time to hit the theaters and support their little idol. But The Lord of the Rings opens on the 18th. The 25th will be our second week."
"When The Voice goes up against The Lord of the Rings, you can't seriously tell me it'll win, right? Unless Hermione Granger can solo Gandalf the White…"
He stopped mid-sentence.
Because, well, the image of Hermione fighting Gandalf looked kind of ridiculous.
Pressing his lips together, he forced out a constipated-looking smile. "If Hermione could beat Gandalf, then Chamber of Secrets wouldn't have crashed the way it did, right?"
Shaye glanced at his secretary. "If Hermione could take Gandalf, she could've pulled in another hundred million for Chamber of Secrets. So what are you saying — that the box office drop was J.K. Rowling's fault?"
"Because Hermione got petrified by the basilisk and Isabella didn't get enough screen time?"
Know your enemy, win every battle — that sort of thing.
Shaye had seen Chamber of Secrets.
He admitted Columbus did a great job.
He thought Isabella was excellent.
Watching her shine twice in a row was satisfying. Hermione was smart, independent, and inspiring — if that character held steady, Shaye truly believed that once Hermione's fans grew up and had money, Isabella's commercial value could surpass Julia Roberts'. Hermione's character was the kind girls dreamed of being.
But — the Harry Potter fanbase was still young.
"I'll admit you'll probably be huge someday," he thought. "But before you grow up, let me give you a good slap from reality — a taste of how brutal this industry is. Consider it a lesson from the adult world."
The secretary nodded, and once Shaye left…
Well, Warner was miserable too.
When planning the release schedule earlier, they expected Chamber of Secrets to dominate everything. Even if The Voice overlapped with The Lord of the Rings, Isabella could ride the HP wave.
But now?
With Chamber of Secrets losing steam, who could say how The Voice would fare against The Lord of the Rings?
Realistically, any sane prediction said Isabella was doomed.
If HP couldn't beat The Lord of the Rings — then Hermione Granger was about to get steamrolled into paper.
By normal Hollywood logic, postponing the release would've been the smart move.
But pulling it now would mean huge losses in marketing — and it wasn't even possible.
For one thing, The Voice was Warner's only shot at a global top-10 hit besides Chamber of Secrets. Even top-10 in North America was out of reach otherwise, while New Line had Ace.
And next year, there was no Harry Potter movie. They couldn't delay The Voice to the year after just to ride Azkaban's coattails — that'd be insane!
So, pushing forward was the only option. And then…
"OMG…"
California.
Los Angeles.
Warner Headquarters.
In the conference room, Barry Meyer read out the list of Isabella's upcoming competitors.
"I just realized how terrifying this year's Christmas lineup is."
"Besides The Lord of the Rings, there's Martin (Scorsese) and Leo (DiCaprio)'s Gangs of New York, Jennifer Lopez's Maid in Manhattan, Renée Zellweger's Chicago, Meryl Streep, Julianne Moore, and Nicole Kidman's The Hours…"
"And… Star Trek?"
"You guys… what are you taking Isabella for?"
"Such an insane lineup — and you're sending her in alone?"
Barry Meyer dropped the release schedule and gave a bitter smile.
Because what else could he do — cry?
He'd thought The Voice would only face The Lord of the Rings.
But now?
DiCaprio, Zellweger, everyone was in the ring.
Damn—
He honestly hadn't realized how bad it was until now.
He couldn't believe his own team had thrown Isabella into a bloodbath like she was cannon fodder.
"Uh… Boss… we really didn't have a choice…"
"When Isabella needed to ride the HP wave, The Voice had to be released in late December. And when HP ruled the market, no one could compete with her. But…"
The team spread their hands helplessly.
Barry Meyer got it.
Sure, the Christmas lineup was packed. Renée Zellweger, for example, had Bridget Jones's Diary behind her — massive box office appeal. But aside from DiCaprio and The Lord of the Rings, no one could really challenge Harry Potter's dominance. So, originally, Christmas release made sense.
Now though…
"Okay, I don't want to hear about the past."
"Just tell me — do you have any way to save The Voice?"
He waved his hand, cutting them off.
That question froze the room.
When HP was no longer invincible, no one knew what strategy to use.
The silence made Barry sigh.
In his mind, Warner was finished for the year.
He could already imagine apologizing to the Roth family.
But just as he was about to slam the table and leave it all to fate, a voice rose from the back — Nathan Bailey raised his hand.
"Boss, I think I have an idea…"
Everyone turned to him.
To be honest, Barry could barely take him seriously.
He'd seen Nathan fail — twice.
Yeah, last year's scapegoating, this year's mishandling — all noted. He knew the guy was ambitious and tried hard, but luck just wasn't his thing.
So when Nathan said he had a plan…
Barry really wanted to say, "Not now, man. You're cursed."
But the guy had raised his hand in the meeting.
So…
"Nathan, what's your idea? Go on."
Barry wasn't expecting much.
But as Nathan spoke, everyone's faces changed.
Because what he said was — insane.
"You're sure this plan can work? You think Isabella can beat The Lord of the Rings?" asked the COO.
"I'm not sure," Nathan said. "But we've got no way back, do we?"
"So you want to gamble?" the vice president frowned.
"Whether we gamble or not isn't up to me — it's up to Isabella and Chris."
Silence.
Barry locked eyes with him for a few seconds, then slammed the table.
"Nathan, go to London."
"This one's on you."
"If you pull it off, you're my secretary when you get back. If not… I won't punish you. Because once you tell Isabella and Chris your plan — if they don't cooperate, you're not coming back anyway."
Nathan nodded hard.
He had a way to make The Voice a box office hit.
Or rather, after realizing the marketing department had disastrously mispredicted Chamber of Secrets' numbers — and that he'd likely be blamed — he'd started scrambling to save himself.
Everything he was doing now was sheer survival instinct.
He wanted Barry Meyer to know he wasn't useless.
Everything before was just bad luck.
And when he finally arrived in London to meet Isabella and Columbus…
"What the hell?"
After hearing his proposal, Isabella was completely stunned.
"You want me to take down The Lord of the Rings???"
"Oh—S***—"
"Warner's out of its mind!!!"