On Tuesday, August 15, Girl, Interrupted—the Palme d'Or winner from the 53rd Cannes Film Festival—hit North American theaters.
It's a textbook arthouse flick, and its release timing? Awkward as hell. Even with "Dunn Walker" slapped on as producer, there's no chance it's raking in blockbuster bucks.
Most likely, it'll sit quiet until next February when awards season rolls around. That's when Girl, Interrupted will start popping up everywhere and finally get American audiences buzzing.
As for the Palme d'Or? Sorry, most folks in the U.S. don't even know where Cannes is.
Still, with Nicole Kidman and Natalie Portman leading the cast, it's got some star power. The box office won't be a total embarrassment.
Among all the movies out right now, its draw trails just behind Space Cowboys, Hollow Man, The Replacements, and The Cell. For a film with zero commercial vibes, pulling in $1.76 million on opening day? Universal and Dunn Films are happy enough.
Awards season is where these kinds of movies shine anyway.
Dunn Films isn't asking much from Girl, Interrupted. A global haul of $50 million would do just fine.
It's a European Palme d'Or winner, so an Oscar nod next year makes sense. That'll boost ancillary sales, and as long as it recoups the $40 million budget, they're golden.
The media, though? They're not used to this vibe.
A Dunn Films movie… just blending into the box office crowd?
Since My Big Fat Greek Wedding, Dunn Films has always set the pace at the ticket counter.
Girl, Interrupted flying under the radar feels downright weird.
A swarm of outlets reached out to Dunn Films, only to get a "no comment." They tried Universal, the distributor, and got brushed off with vague excuses—no straight answers.
Weird, my ass!
Who says Dunn Films has to churn out box office smashes?
They've got commercial chops, sure, but they're chasing art too!
Two days into its run, the press was still scrambling. They couldn't squeeze enough juicy hype out of Dunn Films' latest, and it was driving them nuts—equal parts frustration and letdown.
Dunn Films' past releases were their go-to for riding the buzz and boosting sales. But Girl, Interrupted? They didn't know what to do with it.
Stick to straight-up film critique? Readers would rather flip through The New Yorker, The New Republic, The Village Voice, or Film Comment—not gossip rags.
They were tearing their hair out!
…
"Everything's set. Time to move."
Michael Ovitz's voice came through the phone, calm as ever, but to Dunn, it was like a choir of angels.
Ella Fisher, his secretary in the know, watched him hang up with a grin that could light up the room. She couldn't hide her own excitement. "Dunn, we're finally taking on Disney?"
Dunn slapped his thigh, teeth gritted. "After eating their crap for over a week, it's about damn time we showed some guts!"
Ella beamed. "I'll fax the statement we prepped to all the big agencies right now!"
"Hold up!"
Dunn waved her off, pausing to think. A sly smirk crept up. "We've waited this long—what's one more day? I hear a bunch of media folks have been dying to interview me lately?"
Ella nodded. "Girl, Interrupted's box office isn't exactly dazzling. They want your take on it."
Dunn gave a quick nod. "Cool. Reach out to a big-name paper. Tell them to send someone over for an exclusive this afternoon. One catch—it's gotta hit print tomorrow!"
…
That afternoon, Dunn's office turned into a circus. An interview crew rolled in—over a dozen people. Cameras, photographers, note-takers, the works.
You'd think it was a TV station, but nope—just the entertainment team from The Los Angeles Times.
Leading the charge was Tony Duvall, a forty-something reporter with a thinning hairline and the kind of seasoned vibe that screamed experience.
They'd hashed out the ground rules beforehand, so they skipped the small talk. Tony kicked off with a congrats—"Spider-Man just crossed $1.1 billion worldwide!"—then got to the point. "Director Walker, what's your take on Girl, Interrupted?"
"It's adapted from Susanna Kaysen's memoir—a story packed with human reflection and philosophical depth. Director Mendes nailed the details. Winning the Palme d'Or at Cannes? Totally deserved."
The questions came straight from a pre-set list Dunn had already seen, so he rattled off his rehearsed answers like clockwork.
"What about the box office?" Tony asked with a grin. "It's been two days, but from what we hear, the turnout's pretty meh. That's a big shift from Dunn Films' usual track record."
Dunn kept it chill. "It's midweek—lower turnout's normal. Girl, Interrupted is an arthouse flick, not like the commercial stuff we've done the past few years."
Tony smirked, half-teasing. "So even Director Walker has to bow to market rules, huh? Not every movie you touch turns to gold?"
"Of course. Market trends are king—no one's above them."
Dunn paused, flicking a glance at Tony.
So far, it was all scripted Q&A. Now, though, Dunn was ready to drop the real bombs. "Take some studios—they think decades of clout guarantee a hit. That's just ridiculous."
Tony's eyebrow twitched. He gave Dunn a long look. "Care to elaborate?"
Dunn smiled. "Sure, I'll throw out an example. Disney, say. You know they dropped an action flick this summer—Gone in 60 Seconds. Too bad it ran smack into my Spider-Man. Box office? Total disaster."
Tony nodded along, playing ball. "Yeah, I hear Gone in 60 Seconds hasn't even cracked $100 million worldwide yet. Word is, Disney's looking at a $30 million loss, easy."
"Exactly," Dunn said. "That's the market flexing its muscle. Disney's been at this for decades, right? Dunn Films? Three years old. But Spider-Man fit the trend, so even Disney got trampled, crushed, and left in the dust. Gone in 60 Seconds turning into cannon fodder? Makes sense."
Tony wasn't dumb—he could see Dunn was loving this angle.
And it wasn't on the pre-approved list from Dunn Films.
As a big-shot entertainment reporter for The Los Angeles Times, Tony knew the bad blood between Dunn Films and Disney.
Dunn going public, taking jabs at Disney? This was prime hype material!
Tony smelled a bestseller and leaned in, rolling with it. Entertainment reporters thrive on chaos, after all.
"It's not just Gone in 60 Seconds, right? Disney's had a few releases this summer, hasn't it?" Tony asked, eyeing Dunn's eager grin. He knew he'd hit the mark.
Dunn rattled them off like he'd memorized the list. "Oh yeah. Besides Gone in 60 Seconds, there's Scary Movie, Coyote Ugly, and—oh, right—The Kid. I didn't even know Disney put that one out till I looked it up. Turns out it's got Bruce Willis. Huh."
"Oh, The Kid!" Tony said, barely holding back a laugh. "I know that one—a comedy. Too bad it dropped right when his cheating scandal blew up. Tanked the turnout hard. I hear it's already been yanked from theaters."
Everyone in the industry knew who Bruce Willis had pissed off.
Dunn sighed, all mock sympathy. "Yeah, I heard The Kid had a $65 million budget but didn't even hit $10 million at the box office. Disney's probably eating a $40 or $50 million loss. Man, what a shame!"
Tony nearly lost it—Dunn's crocodile tears were shameless as hell.
"Director Walker, why do you think an old-school giant like Disney keeps bombing at the box office while Dunn Films just keeps winning?"
Dunn paused, pretending to mull it over. "Tough to say. Maybe it's a vision thing? I've heard Disney's management is kinda… dictatorial? I don't know—Disney's public, right? Over 70% of the shares are with small investors. How's a shareholder meeting cool with that? Maybe I heard wrong."
"I've heard Disney's chairman, Michael Eisner, isn't exactly Mr. Popular in Hollywood," Tony prodded. "Rumor has it he's always using Disney's muscle to squash DreamWorks' animated stuff. That true?"
Dunn's brow tightened.
Whoa, slow down—this was getting dicey!
Up till now, Dunn had kept it all about Disney, slinging sarcasm and shade without holding back. Dunn Films and Disney were already at war—might as well go all in!
But Tony dragging the whole industry into it, calling out Hollywood's dirty laundry? That crossed a line.
Hollywood's a big, messy circle. Sure, it stinks on the inside, but they've got to keep up a shiny, glamorous front. That's how you keep people hooked and loving the game.
It's not just about profits—it's about the industry's long-term survival.
Dirty secrets? Those stay buried.