"Born with a silver spoon in its mouth, Kingdom of Heaven still failed to dominate the summer box office. After its release, both its reputation and box office plummeted. The acclaimed director Ridley Scott ended up with egg on his face, and the screenwriter William Monahan was blacklisted by many film companies."
"However, according to an insider in the entertainment industry, Martin had expressed doubts about Kingdom of Heaven as early as the project's inception. His good friends Leonardo DiCaprio and Orlando Bloom both dropped out of auditions one after another."
"As it turns out, Martin's judgment was laser-precise. He helped his friends dodge a bullet."
"That said, director Ridley Scott doesn't believe the film's failure was due to his direction. Yesterday, he told the media that the movie's runtime was too short, which caused a sense of fragmentation, with many plot points and background details cut out."
"Meanwhile, 20th Century Fox also stated that the film's failure was linked to its editing length. They announced plans to release a 192-minute director's cut for the home video market, hoping audiences could see the 'true' Kingdom of Heaven."
Putting down the newspaper, Miranda Kerr asked in surprise, "What's Fox trying to do? Slap themselves in the face?"
Martin picked up the paper, skimmed it, and chuckled, "They're just trying to squeeze out one more round of profit, to reduce their investment losses."
Martin had seen the 192-minute version of Kingdom of Heaven in the memories of his counterpart in China. It was... alright. Slightly better than the theatrical cut, with a few more details added—
Like Balian's backstory, or the subplot where Sibylla kills her leprosy-stricken son.
But it still couldn't cover up the film's sluggish pacing and chaotic storytelling.
(P.S.: After watching the 192-minute director's cut, the author was only impressed by two things—Eva Green as Princess Sibylla of Jerusalem and Edward Norton as the masked king. Everything else felt average. As for the much-praised visual composition, it was just Ridley Scott's usual level—nothing particularly stunning.)
With the summer movie season officially underway, the failure of Kingdom of Heaven naturally pushed more moviegoing teens to spend their allowance on Batman.
As a result, Batman Begins saw a slight bump in ticket sales two weeks after its premiere.
Benjamin Imray was a high school student. His father, a dentist, had enrolled him in a strict private school—one with heavy coursework and tight discipline. His schedule was packed daily, leaving no time for parties or dating.
The only way he could relieve stress was by counting down the days to summer vacation—and to the release of Batman Begins.
He was a comic book geek, and his favorite superhero was DC's Batman.
At the same time, he was also a Martin fan. He'd started watching Martin's films back in elementary school—The Parent Trap, The Sixth Sense. In middle school, it was The Lord of the Rings, The Matrix, Pirates of the Caribbean. He also loved Martin's books, like Harry Potter and Ready Player One...
In short, he grew up on Martin's movies and novels.
Finally, summer break arrived, and after months of waiting, Batman Begins hit theaters.
Benjamin couldn't wait. He called up a couple of close friends from school and rushed to the AMC theater at the Santa Monica shopping center to catch the film.
But as soon as the three of them walked into the cinema, they were stunned by the crowd in front of them.
"Whoa!"
"This many people?!"
The ticket counters had long lines. Everyone was buzzing excitedly about Batman, about Martin, about Nolan.
Clearly, they were all here for Batman.
Benjamin grinned smugly, pointed at the line, and said to his friends:
"See? Good thing I said we should book tickets in advance. Otherwise, we'd be out of luck today."
The three of them squeezed toward the ticket window.
Benjamin had specifically booked the 9:00 a.m. screening, worried there might be too many people and no good seats.
But it was only 8:30 now, and already there was a long queue. More people were pouring in through the entrance.
"Hi, three tickets for the 9:00 a.m. Batman showing. We booked in advance—Benjamin Imray, reservation number…"
The clerk pulled up the booking system, verified Benjamin's name and number, and after a quick operation, the machine spat out three tickets. She handed them over.
As the trio walked away from the ticket window, they overheard a tall, lanky white guy behind them say:
"Hi, I'll take two tickets for Batman, 9:00 a.m. showing."
But the ticket clerk checked the system and didn't take the Franklin bills he handed over.
Instead, she said with a troubled look, "Sorry sir, the 9:00 a.m. Batman showing is sold out."
"What? Then give me the 9:30 or 10:00 showing."
"Sorry sir, all morning Batman showings are sold out. The earliest available showing now is 1:30 p.m. If you'd like, you can purchase tickets for the 1:30 or later screenings."
The lanky guy swore. "What the fuck? Are you serious? Can you check again? Nothing all morning?!"
After triple-checking and confirming it was true, the tall white guy reluctantly bought tickets for the 1:30 p.m. showing.
As he left, he grumbled, "Now Annie's going to nag me again—'Why didn't you book ahead? Why didn't you book ahead...'"
Benjamin and his friends couldn't help but laugh at the guy's muttering.
Even the ticket clerk thought to herself, "Batman is too hot right now, and Kingdom of Heaven is dead. Might as well give Batman its time slots—no point wasting screens…"
In fact, several North American theater chains were already planning to do just that.
"What? Reduce the screenings for Kingdom of Heaven?" The head of distribution at 20th Century Fox was stunned when he got the call.
"You can't do that!" he said immediately.
"Sorry, Kurt, this isn't a request—it's a notification. The decision has already been made. You know the attendance rates for Kingdom of Heaven. We're not going to waste theaters."
An hour later, Tom Cruise got the news as well.
"FUCK!"
Another phone smashed to pieces.