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The following week Raphael split his time between overseeing Underworld prep and grinding through script sessions with the director and both action teams.
The two action directors showed up exactly as ordered.
The Korean guy—Mr. Park—was quiet, but every move he demonstrated was vicious and razor-sharp. A little stylized, sure, but the foundation was there and he could grow.
The Chinese veteran from the Yuen clan—Mr. Chen—was in his fifties, smiled like a kindly grandpa, but the second the conversation turned to fight choreography his eyes lit up like Christmas lights.
They met for the first time, sized each other up, gave a single nod… and said nothing.
Raphael knew right then the competition between them had officially begun.
Good. Competition was exactly what he wanted. The Yuen team was famous for holding back their best stuff until they felt challenged.
While the crew was deep in prep, Ari dropped another script on his desk.
Van Helsing.
Universal's big monster-movie project. Originally built around Kate as the female lead and Hugh Jackman as Van Helsing.
But Kate's schedule clashed, the whole thing stalled, and somehow the script had bounced its way straight to Raphael.
The second he read the title he felt that jolt of recognition.
Van Helsing.
Same vampire-werewolf DNA as Underworld, but this was an A-list tentpole with real studio muscle behind it. If the math had worked out, sequels would've been automatic.
He remembered the 2004 release. Universal poured money into what was supposed to launch their monster universe. It only made three hundred million worldwide—solid for most movies, but a disappointment for the budget. Still, the DVD sales printed money.
More important to Raphael: he'd always loved the concept—nineteenth-century monster hunter Van Helsing taking on Dracula, werewolves, and Frankenstein's creature. And Kate looked smoking hot in the original.
He flipped through the pages, then called Ari.
"This Van Helsing script—is it Universal's?"
"Co-production, but Universal's calling the shots."
"What's the current status?"
Ari explained: Jackman had been attached, but Kate kept delaying. Jackman got tired of waiting and basically bailed. Universal wanted to recast but couldn't find anyone who fit.
Without both leads locked, the whole production was stuck in limbo.
Raphael didn't hesitate.
"Set a meeting with Ron Meyer."
He knew exactly what this looked like—eating from one bowl while already eyeing the next pot.
So what?
When you're the guy who can actually fill seats, studios will literally wait for you.
---
Two days later Raphael and Ari walked into Universal's headquarters.
Ron Meyer met them personally, all smiles.
"Raphael, great to see you."
Raphael got straight to it.
"Mr. Meyer, I'll take Van Helsing. Thoughts?"
Meyer blinked.
"Aren't you shooting Underworld?"
"Underworld wraps in July at the latest. Van Helsing can start September. Schedules line up perfectly."
Raphael smiled. "Pay whatever the market rate is. I'm not here to haggle—I'm here to make the movie."
Meyer visibly relaxed.
If Raphael was willing, a couple extra months of waiting was nothing.
"As long as you're in, we're thrilled!"
Raphael nodded.
"Then it's settled. I'll keep the window open."
On the way out Ari couldn't help asking,
"You sure about this? The two projects overlap a little in theme…"
Raphael knew what Ari was worried about and answered plainly.
"Whether it works or not, we shoot it and find out."
Ari didn't push. He had plenty of clients, but only one like Raphael—talented, stubborn, and actually worth the headache. So Ari knew his role: support, smooth the road, bring good scripts. Anything more and he'd be overstepping.
End of March, the Underworld advance team officially headed to North Carolina.
---
At the same time Ari forwarded another surprise.
Raphael opened the text: I, Robot audition invite. Fox project. Director Alex Proyas (the guy who did Dark City).
Raphael paused.
I, Robot—the movie the rest of the world knew as I, Robot.
He remembered it vividly.
2004 release, Will Smith starring, detective investigating a robot murder in 2035 Chicago. Solid story, great concept. Worldwide box office around three-fifty million—respectable, but the real money came from DVD.
He'd loved it enough to buy the Asimov collection afterward.
He called Ari back immediately.
"What's the situation?"
Ari explained.
"Fox sent a lead audition invite—Detective Del Spooner, the one-armed cop."
Raphael's interest spiked.
"What about Will Smith? I heard he—"
"He's still in consideration."
Ari paused. "But Fox wants options. Will's quote is twenty million plus backend—budget gets crazy fast. They're looking for better value."
Raphael almost laughed out loud.
Translation: they were using him as leverage to squeeze Will Smith's price down.
No wonder the movie barely broke even despite three hundred million at the box office. Twenty million plus points? Hard not to lose money.
Compared to Raphael's current eight-to-ten-million flat fee with no backend, he was the cheaper option.
But there was one problem—
"They think I can pull it off?"
"Raphael, don't sell yourself short. You've carried three different commercial hits already. Fox insiders say you and Will are the only two names on the shortlist."
Raphael thought for a second.
"When's the audition?"
"Fox set it for the day after tomorrow."
"Send a car. I'll be there."
He hung up and leaned back on the couch, mind racing.
Will Smith was the undisputed king of box-office right now—true A-list, massive draw.
Competing for the same role against him? Of course there was pressure.
But backing down without trying? That wasn't Raphael's style.
Two days later he walked into the Fox lot bright and early.
Inside the waiting room he counted seven or eight other guys.
All unknowns.
Exactly as Ari's source had said: the role had been Will Smith's from day one. Raphael was just the budget hammer.
In the supporting-actor group he spotted one familiar face—Shia LaBeouf.
Sixteen years old, still a long way from the chaotic meme king he'd become. The kid saw Raphael, got excited, then looked torn—like he couldn't decide whether to ask for an autograph.
Raphael sped up and walked straight into the audition room. No interest in getting tangled with Spielberg's godson.
Inside: director Alex Proyas, producer John Davis, and a couple of casting people.
Raphael ran the two scenes they asked for.
One was Spooner's cocky first appearance.
The other was the moment he realizes something's wrong with the robots—sharp, angry, on edge.
When he finished, Proyas nodded.
"Action's obviously not a problem. Hard to find anyone in Hollywood who moves better than you. Dialogue's solid too. It's just…"
He hesitated, looking genuinely bothered.
"You look too young."
Raphael felt the air leave the room.
Exactly. He was too young.
No matter how good the performance, some roles just weren't right for a twenty-one-year-old. This had nothing to do with talent or vibe—it was pure age and look.
Proyas kept going.
"Spooner is written as mid-forties, survived a car crash, lost an arm, hates robots on principle. Your acting is fine, but the physical package doesn't match."
Producer John Davis added,
"Plus the schedule. We're starting May, wrapping October. You're tied up on Underworld until July, and we just heard Van Helsing is locking September with you as lead. No room in the middle."
Raphael stayed quiet a moment, then stood and gave them a polite smile.
"Understood. Thanks for the feedback. I'm sure we'll work together someday."
Outside, Ari was waiting.
"How'd it go?"
Raphael shook his head.
"No chance. Let's go."
Ari looked ready to argue.
"They said your acting sucked?"
"Acting was fine. I'm just too young. Mid-forties role, twenty-one-year-old face—doesn't work. Makeup can only do so much. And they're not desperate enough to fight for me. My guess? They already leaked the audition to Will Smith. Now it's his move on the money."
Ari saw the bigger picture.
"Wasted trip, but whatever. Fox now owes you one. They'll pay it back later."
Raphael didn't argue, but he did feel a small pang of regret.
He'd genuinely loved that role.
Still, he wasn't buying Ari's "they owe you" line.
Who the hell needs a favor from Fox?
He still hadn't forgotten how Fox News had dragged his family through the mud.
One day, when the timing was right…