Martin, carrying a black backpack, arrived at Warner Bros.’ headquarters in Burbank with Jeff Raymond and Drew Barrymore.
He strode confidently into the Warner Bros. building.
Jeff, walking beside him, whispered, "When we discuss compensation later, you don’t need to say anything. I’ll handle everything."
Martin nodded. "Got it."
Drew chuckled. "We have to squeeze Warner for every penny this time. They won’t even let us invest!"
Martin replied, "Batman and Superman are Warner’s prized possessions. There’s no way they’d share a piece of those lucrative franchises. No matter how well or poorly the films do, they’ve already made a fortune from merchandising."
Drew added, "Our ’Harry Potter’ and ’The Matrix’ merchandise are just as profitable."
"Of course!" Martin smirked.
As they stepped out of the elevator and approached the meeting room, a Warner Bros. staff member greeted them warmly.
Martin recognized him—it was Alan Horn’s assistant manager, a promising 33-year-old.
"Hello, Mr. Rossetti."
"Mr. Myers, Mr. Raymond, Ms. Barrymore—Mr. Horn and the others are already inside waiting for you. Please follow me."
With that, Rossetti quickened his pace, reaching the meeting room door first. He pushed it open and led the trio inside.
Martin’s eyes quickly scanned the room, taking in everyone present.
It was a standard conference room, with a long meeting table in the center. Five people were seated on one side, with the oldest and most authoritative figure sitting at the head—Alan Horn.
At the far left sat a middle-aged white man with a square face, double chin, and sandy blond hair. He was staring intently at Martin.
Though Martin had never met him before, he recognized him immediately—it was Christopher Nolan, a director so revered that he had more fans than some Hollywood stars.
Before Rossetti could speak, Alan Horn took the lead.
Smiling, he said, "Martin, you’re a Warner Bros. board member—you’re one of us. I don’t think I need to introduce everyone here, do I?"
Martin played along, smiling as well. "I do recognize most of you, except this gentleman here. Let me guess—you must be the future director of the new Batman project, Mr. Nolan?"
Christopher Nolan stood up immediately, nodding respectfully and extending his hand. "Yes, I’m Christopher Nolan. Please, Mr. Myers, just call me Chris."
Martin shook his hand. "Then you should call me Martin."
After the pleasantries, Martin took a seat on the right, alongside Drew and Jeff.
Once they were settled, Alan Horn continued, "Now that everyone is here, let’s begin."
He turned to Martin. "Martin, the ’Batman’ franchise is incredibly important to Warner Bros. I truly appreciate you agreeing to write the screenplay."
Martin joked, "Come on, don’t treat me like an outsider. You just said I’m part of Warner Bros. too."
Everyone chuckled—including Christopher Nolan.
That was the power of influence. It didn’t matter if the joke was funny—people would laugh. It didn’t matter if the speech was compelling—people would applaud.
Once the laughter died down, Martin stood up and pulled a thick stack of documents from his backpack.
To be honest, some in the room had barely suppressed their laughter earlier when they saw Martin carrying a backpack. It made him look like a college student rather than a media mogul.
"It’s been six years since the failure of ’Batman & Robin,’" Martin began. "That’s more than enough time for audiences to forget about that disaster. Now is the perfect moment to reboot the franchise."
As he spoke, he divided the documents into separate copies. Drew, playing the role of a capable assistant, handed them out to the Warner executives.
Once everyone had their copy and began flipping through the pages, Martin continued.
"’Superman’ and ’Batman’ were the films that truly brought comic book movies into the mainstream. Their significance in film history is undeniable—not just for financial gain, but also as beloved icons of pop culture."
"That’s why rebooting ’Batman’ must be done carefully. If we fail, it could be even more disastrous than before."
"Before writing this script, I studied nearly every Batman comic and Tim Burton’s Batman films. I found that Bruce Wayne always carries an air of melancholic tragedy—he’s naturally suited for a darker, more serious tone."
"This was precisely where Joel Schumacher went wrong. Batman is not just a simple champion of justice, nor is he some shallow playboy. He embodies both light and darkness—he’s a deeply conflicted man."
"Have you ever wondered why Bruce Wayne captures criminals but never kills them? Why does he always send them to prison or Arkham Asylum instead?"
"Some might say it’s because DC heroes follow a no-kill rule. But I have another theory."
"Batman needs his villains. Without them, he has no purpose. If Gotham had no crime, Bruce Wayne would just be Bruce Wayne—a rich playboy."
"So what if he spares his enemies not out of justice... but because he needs them, the way a child needs toys?"
A sharp inhale filled the room.
Martin’s interpretation shattered many of their childhood perceptions of Batman.
Christopher Nolan, however, looked more intrigued than ever. His eyes sparkled with curiosity.
Martin continued, "Of course, we can’t explicitly state this in the film—it wouldn’t be politically correct. Superheroes can’t be the bad guys, after all."
"But when we’re developing this project," Martin turned to Nolan, "especially when Chris is directing, I hope you’ll keep this idea in mind. If you do, I believe the film’s tone will be truly unique."
"My script will not follow the storylines of Tim Burton or Joel Schumacher’s films. I’m starting from scratch."
"As for the style..."
Martin paused to think for a moment. "It won’t be gothic. It will be... dark and oppressive, but with moments of cathartic release."
"I believe this film will be groundbreaking in cinema history."
Christopher Nolan’s eyes gleamed with anticipation. He was now beyond eager to read Martin’s script.