Dunn had a cheat code for Hollywood, but he wasn't some small-time dreamer. This guy had big ambitions—huge, even. He wasn't about to settle for just changing his own fate.
Before he came along, things were already shifting. Thanks to him, Kate Winslet snagged an Oscar for Best Actress at just 22 for *Titanic*—a total flex on his part. Nicole Kidman's career? Way less bumpy than it could've been—yep, his doing. Reese Witherspoon? She reworked her whole career plan because of his influence.
Then there's Christopher Nolan. When that guy showed up, Dunn knew he had to pull the talented Brit director into his circle instead of letting him drift to Warner Bros.
But the biggest fate-changer? James Cameron.
Dunn swooped in and nabbed *Titanic*'s massive profits, leaving Cameron less freewheeling than in his past life. So, Cameron kept making movies—his only real option now.
Dunn ran into him while at Fox Studios, chatting about overseas distribution for *My Big Fat Greek Wedding*. Cameron looked… well, kinda down.
"James, you need a hand with something?" Dunn asked, feeling a twinge of guilt.
Cameron let out a heavy sigh.
Dunn knew he was cooking up a new project. "Is it the new movie?" he prodded.
Cameron gestured for them to walk and talk. "Yeah," he said. "I pitched three ideas, and they shot 'em all down."
"Three?!" Dunn's eyes widened. Cameron's ambition was next-level.
Cameron sighed again. "Yep. A superhero flick, an ocean disaster movie, and an alien sci-fi thing. Fox… they're not biting."
Dunn was floored. "A superhero movie? From you? That's wild!"
"Tell me about it," Cameron said, shaking his head. "Which superhero, you ask? Not my own creation—it's Marvel's Spider-Man."
Dunn's jaw dropped. "Spider-Man? James, you're not messing with me, right?"
Cameron was dead serious. "No joke. After Batman, Spider-Man's my favorite. But superhero movies have tanked hard lately. Bill's not about to throw big money my way."
Dunn tried to play it cool. Spider-Man—third in line behind Batman and Superman—was Marvel's golden boy. No way Marvel would sell those rights now. Plus, Fox was all-in on their *X-Men* series. They didn't have the cash or energy for another superhero.
"What about the other two?" Dunn asked.
Cameron's face fell. "The ocean disaster one's based on a real '50s story—super touching and epic. It's about the Coast Guard braving a massive tsunami to save people. Humanity versus nature, real tear-jerker stuff. But… you know, after *Titanic*, Fox isn't thrilled about me doing another sea flick."
"That's ridiculous!" Dunn snapped. With Cameron's skills, a blockbuster like that wouldn't flop. "James, if you put that on the big screen, it'd move America all over again—just like *Titanic* did last year!"
"Tell me about it," Cameron said with a wry grin. "But the one I really care about is the sci-fi. It's based on a book you've probably heard of—*Solaris*."
"*Solaris*?" Dunn blushed and coughed to cover it. "Uh… sci-fi's hot right now. Why's Fox against it?"
Cameron explained slowly, "The book's too big. It's beyond typical sci-fi—full of humanity, philosophy, theology, and reflections on space. That's tough to pull off on screen."
Dunn was lost. His sci-fi knowledge was *Star Wars*, *Star Trek*, maybe *The Three-Body Problem* at best.
Seeing Dunn go quiet, Cameron guessed why. "It's by this Polish writer, Stanislaw Lem. The film rights are with a Moscow studio. The Soviets adapted it once, but the effects back then couldn't capture Solaris's wonder. They did nail some deep human stuff, though—critics loved it."
Dunn frowned. Deep thoughts, philosophy, artsy vibes? That was European cinema's game—especially post-French New Wave. Hollywood wasn't about that life. And Cameron? His art was explosive, not some highbrow symphony.
"James," Dunn said, "I don't think that's the move."
Cameron got it and waved him off. "I've already reached out to Moscow. I'm heading there soon to snag the rights. But with Hollywood's current tech, showing Solaris fully is tough. For real impact, we'd need 3D to mature—something totally new."
"3D tech?" Dunn blinked. It was 1998, and Cameron was already calling the 3D movie boom?
"You bet!" Cameron's eyes lit up. "Solaris is mind-blowing. Flat films can't do it justice. Give it 15 years—3D blockbusters will be a thing."
Dunn's mind wandered. *Solaris*… aliens… 3D… epic scale… A chill hit him. Was *Avatar*—the global smash—born from this idea?
"So, what's the plan?" Dunn asked. "All three projects are off. You just… not gonna make a movie?"
Cameron was a legend—every film a banger. As a fan, Dunn wanted him cranking out hits.
"Oh, I'm making one!" Cameron said, unshakable. "I couldn't direct *Titanic*—that's a regret. I'm doing another sea disaster flick to make up for it."
"The rescue one?"
"Yep!"
"But Fox isn't into it?"
Cameron smirked. "Fox might not care, but plenty of Hollywood companies would back me."
Dunn got it and clapped his shoulder. "James, if you need help, just say it. I'm pumped for your next one!"
Cameron looked sheepish. "Well… I've got people digging into the real story, getting rights, writing the script. It's gonna take a while."
Dunn laughed. "Good things take time, James. I'm rooting for you!"
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The *Star Wars: Episode I – The Phantom Menace* crew was nearly set, but director Dunn Walker and producer George Lucas hit a major clash over ideas, script, and principles.
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