The Best Movie Actor In Hollywood!

Chapter 616

Just as Matthew was monitoring the pre-production of his two films and keeping up with the latest on the major Hollywood writers' strike, a stunning piece of news broke and spread across the country in a matter of days—Heath Ledger, a one-time Academy Award nominee for Best Actor, had died.

The New York Times reported that Heath Ledger’s body was discovered by his housekeeper and a massage therapist who had arrived for his appointment. After knocking on his bedroom door and receiving no answer, the two women opened it to find Ledger lying naked and unconscious on his bed, unresponsive when they tried to rouse him.

A few days later, the police released the autopsy results, which concluded that Heath Ledger had died from an accidental overdose of six different drugs, including sleeping pills and other prescription medications.

Initially, some outlets reported the news as such, but the narrative soon took a sharp turn. First, media outlets owned by Warner Bros. began pushing the idea that Heath Ledger had become so deeply immersed in his role as the Joker that he couldn't break free, leading to depression and suicide. Online media quickly followed suit, and soon, the theory had spread to nearly every major news source.

The media was eager to cover this angle, and the public was eager to read it. And just like that, Warner Bros. successfully framed the Joker as the cause of Heath Ledger’s tragic end.

The shock of a celebrity death is always potent, but when a famous star seemingly gives his life for his art, it instantly captures the attention of the entire nation—and the world.

As the Harry Potter film series had proven, the executives at Warner Bros., for all their faults, were masters of publicity and promotion.

The Joker was destined to become one of the most iconic characters in cinematic history.

As Matthew read the reports, he felt a pang of emotion. Perhaps Heath Ledger’s fate would have been different if he hadn’t accepted Christopher Nolan and Charles Roven’s offer to play the Joker. Wouldn't it?

But it was all just a 'perhaps.' He didn't know Heath Ledger and had never had any dealings with him.He had been considered as a candidate for the role of the Joker, and that was likely the only point where their paths had ever crossed.

Of course, when it came to sheer acting talent, Heath Ledger was probably far superior.

He remembered the pirated HD copy of The Dark Knight he had once downloaded. He’d been in a rough spot at the time, struggling to get paid for a job, and had been completely blown away by the film. The Joker’s presence was so powerful it had even made him believe, for a short while, that chaos was the solution to all of life's problems.

Any public discussion of Heath Ledger’s Joker would now be inseparable from the actor’s death. When someone delivers such a monstrously manic performance and then dies six months later, people will endlessly dissect that performance, searching for a cosmic link between the character he created and his own demise. In the end, they would never be able to separate the Joker from Heath Ledger.

There was no denying it: Heath Ledger’s death gave his performance an unrepeatable, unparalleled quality that made it all the more memorable. But objectively speaking, his version of the Joker was truly unforgettable—a masterclass in villainy.

In all the superhero movies he had ever seen, there was no villain more brilliant than the Joker.

Perhaps it was because of his familiarity with the character that Matthew decided to follow the news about Heath Ledger.

The impact of his death far surpassed the influence he had wielded in life. As long as The Dark Knight, set for a July release, was successful, this would become a textbook case of Hollywood promotion, one that other productions and companies would surely try to replicate in the future.

Matthew couldn't help but think of Fast & Furious 7 and Paul Walker. He had to find a way to remind Paul to stay away from drag racing when he wasn't on a film set.

How did Paul Walker crash his car, again? Matthew wracked his brain for half the day, trying to recall the entertainment gossip he’d read, but all he could remember was that it involved a Porsche 911. Nothing more specific.

Perhaps something could be done through the actor’s contract. The production company was already negotiating a multi-picture deal with Paul Walker's agent. They could add a few clauses, something prohibiting dangerous driving, for the sake of future installments.

It might just work.

Matthew would remind Paul as best he could, but he would never be foolish enough to tell him about his future. Besides the other potential consequences, it would make people think he was an idiot, or worse, a psychopath.

Amidst all the turmoil, Matthew also received some good news: the writers' strike, which had dragged on for weeks, was finally over. The screenwriters for both Fast & Furious 4 and Twilight could now return to work with their respective teams.

In any case, the absence of a staff writer had, at times, caused certain inconveniences for the production crew.

In early February, during a simultaneous vote held by the eastern and western branches of the writers' guild, the members voted overwhelmingly—3,775 in favor—to end the prolonged strike.

The writers' guild signed a temporary three-year contract with the producers' union. Under the new agreement, writers would receive 3.5 percent of annual revenue from new media for their work, up from the previous three percent. Furthermore, past productions would now also be eligible to receive a percentage from internet distribution.

In return, writers' commissions would be based on a fixed allowance of $1,200 for the first two years, after which they would receive a proportional share of the distributor's total profits each year.

It was a mutual compromise; the writers' guild hadn't achieved all of its original goals.

With the agreement signed, the Academy Awards ceremony, which had been in jeopardy, could now proceed as usual. Matthew, however, had no intention of attending. He had more important things to do.

For their part, Paramount Pictures and Stephen Sommers had hired a team of screenwriters to rewrite the script for G.I. Joe: The Rise of Cobra. They seemed sincere enough, having already reached out to Helen to begin discussing Matthew's salary.

Matthew was asking for $20 million plus a share of the back-end profits, the exact percentage of which would be negotiated over time.

In addition to Paramount Pictures, Warner Bros. had also contacted him.

"Hello, Charles."

Inside the new offices of his Burbank production studio, Matthew greeted Charles Roven, the famous Warner Bros. producer.

"It's been a while."

Charles greeted Matthew with a smile. "The last time we saw each other was at the I Am Legend premiere."

He added, "The film did so well at the box office that Warner Bros. is already considering a sequel."

Matthew couldn't help but chuckle. "You didn't come here about a sequel, did you? If I remember correctly, you're more involved with the superhero films at Warner Bros."

He wouldn't be surprised if Warner Bros. was actually planning a sequel to I Am Legend. In a Hollywood landscape dominated by sequels, a hit film like I Am Legend was too valuable for the studio to ignore.

Since its release last mid-December, I Am Legend had been in North American theaters for twelve weeks, grossing $335.41 million domestically and just over $700 million worldwide. It was, without a doubt, one of Hollywood's most commercially successful films of 2007.

Although the protagonist, Robert Neville, had died in the theatrical cut, it wouldn't be impossible for Warner Bros. to make a sequel, and a prequel would be even easier.

But contrary to what he thought, Charles shook his head decisively. "I have nothing to do with I Am Legend and I don't handle that side of the business. I'm here on behalf of Warner Bros. and director Christopher Nolan to invite you to star in Nolan's new project."

Before Matthew could say anything, he added, "Director Nolan himself is busy with post-production on The Dark Knight in Chicago, so he asked me to come and give you the script."

"Oh?" Matthew's interest was piqued. "Christopher Nolan wants to offer me a role in his new film?"

"That's right, and Nolan is very sincere," Charles said. He opened the briefcase he was carrying, took out a script that was less than a hundred pages thick, and placed it in front of Matthew. "He's been looking for the right actor. He watched several of your recent films back-to-back and decided you were the one he was looking for."

Matthew picked up the script, smiled, and replied, "I'd also love to work with a director who has such a distinctive style."

Seeing Matthew flip through the pages, Charles offered a brief introduction. "This script is just a first draft. Christopher has only written the broad strokes, so it's still quite rough."

Matthew could see that. The script was a jumble of scenes and episodes.

"Christopher envisions it as a very unique kind of heist film," Charles said, briefly describing the genre and theme. "A team of corporate spies, led by the male protagonist, invades an unsuspecting person's dreams to steal their secrets."

Hearing this and skimming through the script, Matthew felt a familiar sensation.

He said nothing, however, waiting until he had finished reading.

Charles didn't press the matter and prepared to leave. "I'll leave the script with you," he said before heading out. "We can talk more later if you're interested."