The scene in New York's Central Park was the final sequence of the entire shoot, and also the only scene filmed in New York. It depicted the Avengers bidding farewell to Thor and Loki before parting ways. The scene itself wasn't complicated, but the crew encountered tremendous difficulties while filming.
From the very day the project was approved, Warner Bros. and Marvel Studios had been building up momentum. The Avengers had always been the focus of both media and fans.
When the crew had been shooting at Warner Studios and the Hughes Aircraft facility earlier, things had been fine. But now that they appeared in New York's Central Park, they immediately drew massive crowds.
When Duke and the seven main actors arrived at a small plaza in Central Park, thousands of journalists and tourists surrounded the area. The reporters were manageable — they all understood the unspoken rule of not disturbing the crew during filming. But tourists from around the world didn't care about such things; they crowded nearby, constantly talking and taking photos, making it impossible for Duke to film properly.
"What should we do?"
Hearing an assistant director's question, Duke simply sat back down in his director's chair and said, "Wait. People's curiosity has its limits. Once they've seen enough, they'll disperse naturally."
Besides waiting, the film's publicity team was also taking photos — all of which would make excellent promotional material.
During the dull waiting period, Duke also accepted an interview from a New York Times reporter.
"How should I put it?"
Facing the reporter's question, Duke pointed to the seven actors and said, "With so many superheroes on set, there's roughly a fight scene every ten minutes. But I also know that if a movie has only action scenes without a solid story, it can't be considered a good film. Over the years, there have been countless blockbusters with grand spectacle but weak storytelling. So, the narrative quality of this film is beyond question."
Duke didn't say much more. Seeing Scarlett walk over, he signaled for his assistant to escort the reporter out of the set.
Among the cast, Scarlett Johansson stood out the most. Dressed in a camel leather jacket and jeans, her look was sharp and capable.
"Still can't shoot yet?" she asked, handing Duke a bottle of water.
Taking it, Duke unscrewed the cap, took a sip, and glanced around. Compared to earlier, the area had indeed quieted down somewhat under the security staff's efforts. "Let's wait a little longer," he said.
Scarlett took back the bottle and asked with concern, "What happened on the way here? You looked furious."
In the car earlier, she had seen Duke take a call. Though he said nothing afterward, their familiarity allowed Scarlett to easily tell he was angry.
"An internal issue at Marvel," Duke gave her a reassuring look. "I'll handle it after we wrap."
Like any commercial enterprise, Marvel Comics — in which Duke now held controlling shares — was also facing internal power struggles.
Duke had long been aware of such conflicts but hadn't paid much attention. Every company had its internal battles. Moderate competition could even serve as a form of natural selection, and as long as things stayed within reasonable bounds, he, as the controlling shareholder, wouldn't interfere.
However, the current conflict had gone beyond those bounds. If not properly handled, it could seriously impact the future development of both Marvel Comics and Marvel Studios.
On his way over, Duke had received a message from Tina Fey: Marvel Studios CEO Kevin Feige had officially submitted his resignation to the Marvel Board of Directors!
In this world, no one is truly irreplaceable — Kevin Feige was no exception. But his outstanding ability, deep understanding of Marvel comics, and remarkable skill as a producer made him an invaluable asset. If it wasn't absolutely necessary, Duke had no desire to see him leave Marvel Studios.
In truth, as someone well aware of Marvel's internal struggles, Duke knew that Kevin Feige might not actually want to resign — rather, he was applying pressure on the Marvel board to counter his internal rivals — the Creative Committee.
Half an hour later, thanks to the security team's efforts, the plaza finally quieted down. Duke began filming. The scene was relatively simple and took only the entire morning to complete.
With that, The Avengers's shooting officially wrapped.
After the final shot, Duke quickly ate a hamburger, handed the crew over to Anna Prinz, and headed straight for Marvel Comics' Manhattan headquarters. Kevin Feige was already there, and Tina Fey had gone ahead to convene Marvel's top executives to discuss the issue on Duke's behalf.
In fact, during her earlier call, Tina Fey had also brought Duke good news: after months of litigation, the Los Angeles court had dismissed the appeal from Jack Kirby's heirs, ruling that Marvel legally owned the copyrights to The Amazing Spider-Man, The Avengers, and numerous other comic properties.
This ruling cleared the final obstacle for The Avengers' release.
Although Jack Kirby's heirs and their lawyers declared they would continue to appeal and fight to the end, anyone with sense could see that their stance was purely symbolic at this point.
Upon arriving at Marvel's headquarters, Duke met with Kevin Feige first, then began consultations with the rest of Marvel's leadership.
From the moment he acquired forty percent of Marvel Comics' shares, Duke had never given up on the goal of gaining full control. After nearly a decade of effort, his voting shares had surpassed fifty percent — Marvel Comics now effectively bore the Rosenberg name.
If Duke wished, he could easily dismiss most of Marvel's executives without much trouble. But he had never done so. Marvel Comics was a modern corporation with a complete system of rules, not a personal toy.
Kevin Feige's feud with Marvel's Creative Committee had been longstanding, and their conflict had become extremely sharp.
The Creative Committee was led by Marvel Entertainment's head, Ike Perlmutter. Marvel Entertainment originally encompassed three divisions — Marvel Games, Marvel Studios, and Marvel Television — making Perlmutter technically Kevin Feige's superior.
Other committee members included Marvel Entertainment Chairman Alan Fine, renowned comic writer Brian Michael Bendis, Marvel publisher Dan Buckley, and former Marvel Editor-in-Chief, now Chief Creative Officer, Joe Quesada.
They were key figures within Marvel's management and provided the main ideas and outlines for Marvel films — in other words, they had a degree of script decision-making power.
The Creative Committee's deep involvement in film development sometimes delayed production, dragging teams into unnecessary scientific or creative disputes. On occasion, conflicts between them and directors even led to walkouts.
As the true leader of Marvel Studios, Kevin Feige had made major contributions to the entire Marvel franchise, often taking bold risks in his decisions.
By contrast, Marvel Entertainment's Ike Perlmutter was a typical conservative, notorious for his stinginess and outdated thinking. He constantly schemed to cut each film's budget, and even went so far as to cancel the Fantastic Four comics and forbid writers from creating new X-Men characters — all to undermine 20th Century Fox's superhero movies.
Ike Perlmutter had become an unpopular figure both inside and outside Marvel, and naturally, the Creative Committee that stood on the same front as him did not receive much favor either.
However, that same Creative Committee had Duke's support.
No true owner of a company would grant unlimited power to a professional manager. The feud between Michael Eisner and the Walt Disney family was the best cautionary example.
Duke trusted Kevin Feige very much, but all power must be restrained. Unlimited, unsupervised authority was undoubtedly a tiger out of its cage—it could harm outsiders, and eventually, harm itself.
Having lived through his previous life, Duke understood clearly that power must be monitored and restricted. He would never allow Kevin Feige to both supervise and manage himself.
The Creative Committee existed precisely to limit the power of certain high-ranking executives within the company.
That said, the existence of a degree of internal struggle within Marvel was not necessarily something Duke disapproved of. No boss wanted his company's management to be a solid, unified block without internal checks and balances.
In fact, the relationship between Marvel's comics and film divisions had always been one of constant friction. It wasn't just because the veteran comic creators who made up the Creative Committee interfered with film development, but also because Marvel Studios frequently made comic writers feel both helpless and amused. To coordinate certain plot designs in films and television series, Marvel Studios often stepped into the comics' creative process and made requests about storylines—something that frequently disrupted the comics' own continuity and coherence.
Marvel's "civil war" was no less intricate than a palace intrigue. If Ike Perlmutter was a strong-willed wolf, then Kevin Feige was certainly no meek rabbit to be bullied.
Kevin Feige's intentions were very clear—he wanted to apply pressure on Marvel's board of directors and Duke to dissolve the Creative Committee.
It had to be admitted that, whether in terms of production process or market insight, Kevin Feige understood filmmaking far better than Ike Perlmutter.
Moreover, without the Creative Committee, the production cycle of films could potentially be shortened — from a commercial standpoint, that was indeed not a bad thing.
But Duke had never intended to do that.
The Marvel Cinematic Universe itself was built upon the vast worlds and long-standing popularity that the comics had cultivated over many years. The Creative Committee, being the people who understood the comics best, also understood the needs of Marvel's most loyal core fans.
Selecting the most suitable storylines from Marvel's endless comic archives for adaptation was something to which the Creative Committee members—who had been immersed in the comic industry for decades—had made undeniable contributions.
Most importantly, the Creative Committee served as a check on the power of company helmsmen like Kevin Feige.
Yes, when it came to film quality and marketing matters, the Creative Committee's actual influence was limited. But to Duke, they were his other hand in controlling all of Marvel—and he would never cut off his own hand.