It was early May.
The filming of Brokeback Mountain was nearing its end.
It was a weekend.
The production team had a break.
Martin drove, bringing Drew Barrymore, Leonardo DiCaprio, and Anne Hathaway to Myers Studios.
Saw had already finished filming, and James Wan had completed the editing. Today was the film's first test screening.
By the time they arrived at the screening room at Myers Studios, representatives from the major North American theater chains were already there. They immediately stood up and greeted Martin upon his arrival.
"AMC, Regal, Cinemark—wow, all three major North American theater chains are here. Is Myers Studios venturing into distribution?" Leonardo whispered to Drew.
"Not yet. The distribution of this film will be handled by Warner Bros. These people are all invited by Warner," Drew whispered back.
"They seem pretty enthusiastic about Martin," Leonardo said.
"That's just for Martin, not for Myers Studios," Drew replied. "But we're also in talks with these theater chains, establishing good relationships for when the time comes."
Anne Hathaway, unlike the other two, didn't linger on the outskirts chatting. As soon as the theater representatives approached, she linked arms with Martin, adopting the role of the hostess, greeting the Hollywood bigwigs with an air of superiority, making it seem like she was riding on his coattails.
Martin indulged her. The girl had a bit of vanity, but it wasn't a big problem.
The theater representatives, seeing Martin, were courteous toward Anne Hathaway as well, flattering her, which caused her to become quite pleased with herself. She even started speaking more freely.
It wasn't until Martin discreetly pinched her on the backside that Anne Hathaway snapped back to reality, rubbing her chest against his arm in a playful manner, asking for forgiveness.
"Everyone, let's watch the movie. I'm sure it won't disappoint you," Martin said, and the group of theater representatives dispersed, taking their seats.
Martin sat next to two newcomers—James Wan and Leigh Whannell. Seeing their nervous expressions, he laughed and said:
"Don't be nervous. You'll be famous soon. Saw will be released in October. After October, no one will ignore you!"
"Thank you, Mr. Myers," the two replied in unison.
"Call me Martin!" Martin corrected.
Then, the movie began.
In the dark screening room, there was complete silence, with only the flickering light from the screen and the sound from the speakers filling the air.
Including Leonardo DiCaprio and Anne Hathaway, everyone in the screening room was completely focused on the screen.
James Wan and Leigh Whannell were growing anxious at the quiet atmosphere behind them.
Finally, James Wan couldn't help but glance back. He saw that all the theater representatives were fully absorbed in the film. Many of them had their notebooks on their laps, scribbling notes now and then.
He was mainly observing the representatives from AMC, Regal, and Cinemark—the big three North American theater chains.
Because of the darkness, he couldn't see their expressions, but from their stiff, unmoving postures, it was clear that they hadn't changed positions for a while.
What did that mean?
Were they asleep? That wasn't possible. If they were asleep, they wouldn't be sitting like this.
So then—
James Wan thought of something that made him very excited—their complete absorption in the film.
In order to appeal to North American audiences, James Wan had kept the core suspense elements of the script but also added plenty of bloody, graphic scenes.
He knew that North American audiences loved this—they were far more frightened by blood than Eastern audiences.
At that moment, a loud gasp echoed in the screening room.
James Wan turned around, smiling faintly.
On the screen, they were showing the scene where Adam used a hacksaw to frantically saw off his own leg, blood and flesh flying everywhere, and screams filling the air. The forced self-mutilation made everyone in the room shudder.
Martin noticed that Anne Hathaway had her eyes closed, clutching her arm tightly, clearly frightened.
Leonardo, who had found a corner to sit in, had straightened his back, sweat dripping down his face, but he still couldn't bring himself to close his eyes.
But the true climax of the movie hadn't come yet.
What they thought was the killer's caregiver wasn't the real culprit. When the "corpse" lying in the secret room suddenly stood up, the whole room erupted in shocked gasps.
The "corpse" was an elderly man, hunched over, looking frail and weak. But as the camera zoomed in, a close-up of his eyes revealed a pair of indifferent eyes, as if he could see through everything in the world.
Then came a flashback montage. When the audience heard the police officer's line, "The killer likes to watch his masterpieces up close," everything clicked.
The old man pretending to be dead was the true killer.
Leonardo's hand gripped the armrest of his chair, leaning forward, his handsome face filled with utter astonishment. Despite watching countless films, this ending still completely surprised him.
He glanced toward Martin, thinking, where did this guy find such a genius? This ending was absolutely fucking amazing!
It wasn't just him. Everyone in the screening room was having the same thoughts.
For example, John, the representative from AMC, wrote in his notebook: "An amazing little-budget horror film, with an unforgettable ending. If the first part of the film could be considered a top-tier horror movie, the ending elevated the entire film to a new level, turning it into a superlative horror masterpiece. No exaggeration…"
The representative from Regal, a middle-aged white man, wrote: "The director is definitely a genius. The use of cross-cutting montages was exceptional, and the suspense elements in the main plot were nearly perfect. Especially the ending—simply astonishing…"
Of course, the film wasn't flawless. Because the budget was so low, the sets were rough, and the props were a bit crude. But these flaws didn't detract from the film; the brilliant plot and clever cinematography covered up these imperfections.
The screen went black.
The lights were turned on, and the curtains were drawn, bringing light back into the room.
The room erupted into applause.
Martin noticed that Leonardo was applauding the loudest.
The representatives from the theaters couldn't sit still anymore. One by one, they stood up and walked toward the front row.
"Hello, Director Wan."
"Mr. Whannell, you're the screenwriter for this movie, right? Such a brilliant concept!"
Looking at James Wan and Leigh Whannell surrounded by the crowd, Martin smiled.
As for Leigh Whannell, James Wan was undoubtedly a gold mine. He had already signed a deal with them for five films.
Of course, they would pay him well.
He wasn't one of those bottomless vampires!
Hmm, he was a vampire with limits!