Sure enough, Mel Gibson said, "You know, I'm a Catholic. I have deep faith. But Hollywood… I want to make a movie about Jesus, something that sorts out the connections between Catholicism, Judaism, and Islam. I want people to understand the relationships and the power of faith."
Dunn let out a long sigh.
He'd guessed right. The project Mel Gibson was pitching was none other than the infamous The Passion of the Christ!
Seeing Dunn's troubled expression, Mel frowned slightly. "I don't need a huge budget—25 to 35 million dollars would do it. Of course, if you're one of those people who scoff at religious films, I can fund it myself."
Religious movies had never been a hit in Hollywood.
The tangled web of doctrines—especially between Protestantism, Catholicism, and Judaism—was full of contradictions and ripe for controversy.
Back in the late '80s, the legendary director Martin Scorsese made a religious film, The Last Temptation of Christ. From development to production to distribution to release, it faced endless hurdles.
Even with Scorsese's golden reputation, the film stirred up so much debate that it only grossed 8.4 million dollars at the box office.
A total flop!
Since then, Hollywood's major studios had steered clear of religious themes.
To Mel Gibson, Dunn's hesitant look just meant he was scared of losing money too. He figured Dunn didn't even need to hear the plot details to balk at the subject matter.
Dunn shook his head and said seriously, "Mel, you know me. I'm a businessman, sure, but not just that—I'm a filmmaker. When it comes to a good project, I'm never stingy with investment."
He wasn't kidding.
The Passion of the Christ was a massive deal. With a 30-million-dollar budget, it raked in 370 million in North America and 610 million worldwide!
Before Deadpool, it was the highest-grossing R-rated film ever.
In North America, it still held the record.
Mel Gibson didn't quite catch Dunn's drift and perked up. "Great! I've been preparing this project for years. The script is killer, trust me!"
He'd finished the script ages ago, revising it multiple times. Every time he pitched it to a studio, he got shut down.
Nobody wanted to touch religion.
And the script's content… it was too sensitive. It seriously clashed with Jewish doctrine, making it a non-starter in an industry dominated by Jewish-run studios.
That is, until he met Dunn Walker.
Two years ago, he'd done Unsinkable and Mr. & Mrs. Smith for Dunn's studio. Last year, it was Signs. This year, after wrapping Gone Girl, the itch to make The Passion of the Christ came roaring back.
Dunn looked him square in the eye. "Mel, let me say two things. First, money's not an issue. Second, the project's not an issue. You're Mel Gibson. Your name alone is the biggest guarantee!"
Mel wasn't used to seeing Dunn this serious. He sat quietly on the sofa, saying nothing.
Dunn continued slowly, "Mel, think about Scorsese's The Last Temptation. Why did it bomb? Because it messed with Catholic doctrine. Catholicism's got unmatched influence in Europe and America. It was bound to fail."
Mel smirked, unimpressed. "I've told you, I'm a devout Catholic! Scorsese's movie questioned Catholicism, and that's exactly why I want to make mine—to speak up for it."
Dunn shook his head, locking eyes with him. "Mel, you're still not getting it! Don't you know? Martin Scorsese's an Italian-American Catholic too!"
Mel's gaze sharpened for a moment.
Dunn pressed on, "Don't forget, this is Hollywood—built by Jewish folks! Your project wants to prop up Catholicism, but these major religions have deep ideological rifts. You please the Catholics, sure—but do you realize who you'll piss off?"
"The Jews," Mel blurted out without hesitation.
Dunn's expression shifted slightly. "Even Martin Scorsese didn't dare cross them!"
Mel shrugged casually. "I'm not stupid. I've been working on this for years—I know why it's a no-go. But I think the timing's right now. Call it cocky, but I'm Hollywood's biggest box-office draw!"
Dunn smirked and rolled his eyes. "Mel, you're too full of yourself!"
"Am I wrong?"
"From a star-power angle, no," Dunn admitted with a light sigh, a cold grin tugging at his lips. "But don't forget—a few years back, Bruce Willis was the action king! Jerry Bruckheimer was the golden producer! Michael Bay was the top director! And now?"
Mel chuckled. "That's because they ran into you."
Dunn laughed, half-annoyed, half-amused. "Mel, if I can pull that off, you think the Jewish community—way more powerful—can't? You know how much grief Kirk Douglas alone gave me during awards season?"
Mel brushed it off. "He's dead."
Dunn's tone grew heavy. "But the Jewish influence is still Hollywood's top dog!"
"I'm not scared!"
Mel didn't care one bit.
Dunn pointed at him, too frustrated to speak.
Mel's expression cooled. "Dunn, let me ask you straight—will you invest or not? If you won't, I'll find someone else. There are more studios popping up these days. I'm damn sure I can get this made!"
Dunn took a deep breath and mulled it over for a long moment. "How about this? Wait ten years."
"What's that supposed to mean?" Mel raised an eyebrow.
Dunn said calmly, "I mean, put this project on hold for a decade. Ten years from now, I'll back you."
Mel frowned, irritated. "Ten years? No way! I've already waited ten years for this!"
Dunn slammed the table and roared, "Mel Gibson, don't forget—my girlfriend Natalie Portman and Scarlett Johansson are both Jewish!"
Mel paused for a beat.
Dunn waved a hand, his tone sharp. "I'll be blunt. I'm not doing this project right now, and I won't let you either! Who do you think you are? Hollywood's God? Let me tell you, with a subject like this, if shit hits the fan, even I can't save you!"
Mel's temper could flare hot, but right now, his face grew eerily calm.
He could sense the concern and worry in Dunn's words.
Dunn softened his tone. "Give me ten years—and give yourself ten years. After that… the sky's the limit. Even if the Jewish influence is still strong, I'll have the clout to keep you safe."
In his past life, The Passion of the Christ couldn't find a backer. Mel funded it himself, facing constant pushback and sabotage during production.
When it hit theaters, it sparked a firestorm and sold like crazy worldwide.
Plenty of people even converted to Catholicism because of it.
But the bigger its success, the more unbearable it became for the Jewish community!
That same year, Mel Gibson got blacklisted by Hollywood.
He fought back—slashing his fees, begging for roles—but no one would touch him. His resentment toward Jews only grew.
Later, rumors swirled: racism, domestic violence, cruelty on set, animal abuse. Hollywood's former top star fell hard.
He slunk off to Australia, a shell of himself.
It took over a decade for him to crawl back into Hollywood's mainstream.
As a friend, Dunn didn't want to see him repeat that disaster.
Mel sat silently in Dunn's office, lost in thought. His face showed no anger—just deep contemplation.
After ten minutes, he finally looked up and sighed heavily. "If you won't back it, fine, forget it."
Dunn clenched his fist in excitement.
His presence had finally changed Mel Gibson's fate!
Hollywood was shifting more and more toward a "New Hollywood," and Dunn had every reason to feel proud.
"But…" Mel suddenly pivoted, "I've got another project."
Dunn grinned. "As long as it's not religious or some touchy subject, I'll fund it. You shoot whatever you want!"
He'd already decided—even if Mel pitched something totally new from his past life, Dunn would sign the check without hesitation.
Mel Gibson was a box-office goldmine right now!
Every movie he starred in was a hit!
Mel said, "We've talked about this one before."
"Oh? What's that?"
"Mad Max."