The wave of negative media reviews had left the Green Lantern production team in a total panic. Even the few voices they paid to speak positively about the film were immediately drowned out by the avalanche of scathing criticism.
No one had expected this. A film that was once so highly anticipated had flopped—hard.
Some media outlets began asking questions: How could Green Lantern flop like this? The director was experienced and capable, the lead actor—despite criticism over his vibe—had decent acting chops, and the special effects budget was clearly substantial. So why did the box office take such a dive right after release?
Where there are questions, there will be analysis.
Some commentators pointed fingers at the marketing strategy.
When Ryan Reynolds was first cast as Green Lantern, comic fans had vocally opposed the decision, saying his temperament didn't match their vision of the character. The backlash had been intense. But the studio ignored those voices and focused the marketing entirely on him. The result? Hardcore comic fans—arguably the core audience—refused to pay for a ticket to support a film led by someone they didn't accept.
Another issue: the trailer didn't even show the villain. Think about it—how can you highlight a hero's strength if you don't show the villain they're up against? The trailer had no real sense of tension or stakes, weakening the film's momentum before it even hit theaters.
Of course, it wasn't just a marketing problem. The film itself had issues.
A direct comparison to X-Men: First Class, which had been released shortly before, made the flaws obvious. Both were superhero films—but Green Lantern had double the production budget and still ended up with a nearly identical opening weekend gross.
That was a hard pill for the studio to swallow. But swallow it they must.
They were still clinging to hopes of recovering losses overseas. Because once they publicly admitted the film had bombed, why would international audiences bother going to see it?
Back in her office, Laila read the analysis report Demi had brought in and felt Green Lantern's flop was well-deserved.
Data showed that only 20% of the film's audience was under 25 years old. In other words, young people—the main ticket-buying force behind superhero films—weren't interested. If they weren't showing up, how could the film not flop?
The reviews were also brutal.
Rotten Tomatoes: 25% freshness.
IMDb: 6.4 rating.
CinemaScore: B grade from audiences.
"Boss… should we increase our marketing efforts too?" Demi asked, clearly rattled by Green Lantern's brutal crash.
This was, after all, a film with over $300 million in total costs. And it flopped just like that. Compared to that, their film had a lower budget and a much shorter production cycle—but that didn't stop her from worrying.
"Stick to the plan," Laila replied with a smile. "Relax. We won't end up like that."
Demi admired her boss's calmness. If it were her in Laila's position, she'd be pacing the floor in anxiety. But her boss? Still chatting, smiling, like none of this mattered at all.
Had she forgotten what bold claim she made before production started?
Normally, Demi wouldn't be this nervous. She was confident that, with her boss's skill, bringing in a billion or two at the box office wouldn't be difficult. And if it underperformed, they'd still probably make several hundred million at the very least.
But this time was different. This time, they were aiming for $3 billion—the record set by Avatar. The sheer pressure was enough to make it hard to breathe.
What Demi didn't know was that Laila wasn't as calm as she looked.
Her version of The Avengers differed significantly from the original. She had revised the exciting parts to make them even more thrilling—by her standards—and trimmed or altered anything she considered to be filler.
If someone watched both versions, they might not even consider them the same film, aside from sharing the same characters.
This was unlike what she'd done with The Lord of the Rings, which still retained much of the original flavor.
But The Avengers? This version was hers, through and through. From script to special effects, over 85% of the film bore her creative imprint.
That's why she had no real gauge for how the audience would react.
If the public accepted her changes, she had a strong chance of hitting her goal. But if they didn't…
It might not even reach the original's modest billion-dollar run—and that would be embarrassing.
Of course, she was nervous.
She just didn't show it.
Because she knew—no amount of nerves could change the film now.
Meanwhile, Green Lantern's numbers showed no signs of improvement.
At this point, it had definitely flopped.
Now the studio's only concern was whether they could at least claw back some of the money they'd sunk in.
All hope now rested on the international market.
And that led to a rather awkward situation—because their greatest hope lay in the rapidly growing East.
And in the East… there was no avoiding Laila.
"I told you we shouldn't have provoked her. Now look where we are. How are we supposed to convince her to give us more premium screens?"
"Come on, that decision came from higher up. Nobody expected the film to bomb this badly. Everyone believed in the project at the time. If someone walks in with $100 million to invest, who's going to turn that down just because the movie might open near Laila's release?"
Another person nearby stepped in to cut off the argument. "Arguing won't help anything. What matters now is how we solve the problem."
"Maybe… we should find a middleman to talk to Moran?"
"It's the only option! The East is our last stand. We have to recover losses there. Eastern audiences love big-budget blockbusters with heavy VFX—that's exactly what we've got, isn't it?"
What Laila couldn't understand was why Warner, despite their good working relationship, had chosen such an obviously bad release window—right next to her film's release.
There were plenty of other slots in the summer schedule. Even from a profit-maximizing perspective, it made no sense for them to go head-to-head.
The only thing that could make someone give up their own benefit…
was the promise of even greater benefit.
The combined production and marketing cost for Green Lantern was over $300 million. Sure, Warner could afford to foot that bill—but obviously, they'd rather spread the risk.
Which is why partnering with other companies was ideal.
And this kind of strategy wasn't just for the big players. Small studios making ten-million-dollar films often gathered dozens of investors just to reduce the risk of failure.
In this case, someone had joined the investment group with a very specific condition:
Use this film to go head-to-head with Laila's release.
Do everything possible to prevent her from breaking Avatar's box office record.
And how could Warner execs possibly say no to that?