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Chapter 156: Cannes
🕑 Added 2025-05-08 22:51:51 +0000 UTCThe 53rd Cannes Film Festival kicked off on May 14 and wrapped up on May 25.
A day early, Dunn and the crew landed in Nice, France, ready to head to Cannes by car the next day.
The moment they stepped off the plane, cameras flashed everywhere as reporters swarmed. Natalie pouted her little lips and grumbled, “You need to buy a plane ASAP. I hate this vibe .”
Dunn chuckled, “Already ordered one from Gulfstream. They’re working on the interior now—should be ready by September, I’d say.”
“What?! That soon?” Natalie blinked in surprise, her eyes wide. “Isn’t that, like, super expensive? ”
“Gulfstream V? Nah, not too bad. With the custom interior, it’s only about 40 million bucks,” Dunn said casually, grabbing her hand without a care for the eager French paparazzi.
“Wow, ‘only’ 40 million? Spoken like a true rich guy!” Natalie wrinkled her nose playfully, then grinned mischievously. “Wait, isn’t that the same plane Jim Carrey has?”
Dunn burst out laughing, “Yup, exact same one!”
Jim Carrey’s plane? Total Hollywood joke. Mostly because the guy’s such a diva—every movie he stars in has to feature a close-up of his private jet. It’s ridiculous enough to make you laugh and cry at the same time .
Sam Mendes sidled up, lowering his voice, “Dunn, I’ve heard… this year’s jury might be in our favor.”
Just two months ago, he’d snagged the Oscar for Best Director. If he could nab Cannes’ Best Director too, it’d be the stuff of legends.
Dunn kept his cool and replied, “Yeah, it’s looking good. Out of six jurors, we’ve got an American director, a British actor, plus Luc Besson.”
Sam nodded thoughtfully.
Dunn flashed a small smile.
He’d come to Cannes in person with one goal: to win. And that meant working the jury—schmoozing was non-negotiable.
The American juror? Jonathan Demme, a big-shot director who’d made classics and even won an Oscar for Best Director. But then he sank 55 million into a flop that tanked at the box office, crashing his Hollywood cred hard.
Back when Dunn’s company was greenlighting a project, they’d considered him for director. He demanded casting control and script changes, though, so they passed. Now, with no gigs lined up, he was slumming it in Europe as a juror. If Dunn Films tossed him a lifeline, he’d probably jump at it.
Then there’s the Brit—Kristin Scott Thomas. She’d starred in hits, earned an Oscar nod, the works. A sharp Hollywood actress like her? Unless she’s totally clueless, she’d vote their way. Dunn’s the kind of powerhouse who takes on Disney and Fox without blinking—Kristin would want to stay on his good side. Plus, he’s always gotten along great with the British crowd.
And finally, Luc Besson.
Last year, Luc dropped a 70-million-dollar epic that bombed in both ticket sales and reviews. He packed up and hightailed it back to France, tail between his legs. Even Milla Jovovich—solid fanbase, tons of potential—got ditched by Hollywood after starring in it.
Luc’s a commercial director with an artsy streak. France is too small a pond for him—Hollywood’s where he belongs. You can bet he’s itching to get back after that failure. His old hit proved he’s got the chops for a big Hollywood blockbuster.
And Dunn? He loves being the guy who swoops in to save the day .
Dunn Films is still small-time, leaning on young guns like Zack Snyder, Christopher Nolan, and Sam Mendes. If he could rope in Luc Besson and Jonathan Demme, it’d be a game-changer—not just for Cannes, but for the company’s future.
Cannes has five regular jurors and one chair. Lock in these three, and they’re golden.
Why are Europe’s big three film festivals fading? Why does the Oscars still rule the world? It’s all in the judging. Oscars have thousands of voters and a ranked-choice system like the U.S. election—not perfect, but as fair as it gets.
But the European trio? A handful of jurors chit-chatting, heavy on favors, ripe for lobbying. Especially now, with every filmmaker kissing Hollywood’s ring, American movies rarely leave empty-handed.
“Nat, I’m meeting Luc Besson tonight. Wanna come?” Dunn asked softly.
Natalie shook her head. “Nah, I’m wiped .”
Dunn raised an eyebrow. “Aren’t you two tight?”
“Oh, we are! But… if it’s just catching up, I’d be there. Work stuff, though? Awkward,” she said with a shrug.
Dunn couldn’t help but laugh.
This girl’s sharp as a tack.
…
Luc Besson’s having a rough go of it lately. He started as an artsy French director, all traditional vibes. But after and , the French critics tore him apart, saying he’d sold out to Hollywood.
Back then, he could point to box office numbers to shut them up. Now, after ’s epic flop, he’s got nothing left to hide behind. Still wearing the “international director” hat, but in France, he’s a punching bag.
So when Dunn reached out, Luc raced from Cannes to Nice, waiting eagerly.
Dunn Walker’s name is huge.
Sure, he’s directed two mega-hit blockbusters— and —but France doesn’t care about that. What’s got them buzzing is his Nasdaq moves and the insane hype around him.
The stock market god of the new era!
In just a few months, Dunn’s stock plays landed him in the global top 100 richest list. That’s enough to make anyone sit up straight—including Luc Besson, who’s genuinely awed.
It’s not just Dunn’s film cred. It’s the massive fortune backing him up.
“Sorry for dragging you out so late, Mr. Besson,” Dunn said warmly, standing to shake his hand.
Luc’s English was spot-on. “Oh, please, Director Walker, you’re too kind! Your legend’s all over France!”
Dunn laughed heartily. “You mean my scandals, right?”
Luc got serious fast. “No way! You’re an idol to every young person here. Even our government’s hyping up your patriotism.”
“Huh?”
That caught Dunn off guard.
Luc paused, then explained, “You know, taxes in France are steep—way higher than the U.S. Tons of rich folks bail to other countries. So they’re holding you up as a model patriot who pays up cheerfully.”
Dunn broke out in a sweat .
Patriotic taxpayer? More like he got duped back then. Who wants to hand over their cash to the government?
Still, dumb luck turned it into a PR win. Not just in the U.S.—in Europe’s high-tax zones, his “noble act” hit even harder.
Dunn waved it off—he wasn’t here for that. “Look, I wanted to see you about movies. Got any plans brewing?”
Luc sighed. “You know about … I’m thinking of starting my own film company. Already picked a name—EuropaCorp.”
Dunn frowned. “Luc—oh, sorry, mind if I call you Luc? Cool, thanks. Anyway, starting a company’s no walk in the park.”
Luc grinned. “It’s not that tricky. I’ve got connections here, and French arthouse films? They’re cheap—couple hundred grand, not Hollywood’s crazy budgets.”
Dunn went quiet for a sec, then smirked. “So… still got your eye on Hollywood?”
Luc caught on instantly.
He’s no dummy. Meeting Dunn right before Cannes kicks off? It’s gotta be about Dunn Films’ entry.
But Dunn’s smooth—doesn’t mention Cannes or juries. Just dangles a collab. Impossible to turn down.
Fresh off a big flop, Luc’s desperate for a hit to prove he’s still got it. Big budgets are tough to snag, and Hollywood’s giving him the cold shoulder.
“Got a project for me?” Luc asked, excitement creeping into his voice.
Dunn grinned wide. “I’ve got a story I wanna turn into a movie. I think you’re the guy to direct it.”
“Give me the gist?”
Dunn cleared his throat. “So, there’s this couple—madly in love, total respect for each other, but both hiding a huge secret. They’re legendary assassins. Top-tier training, killer skills, and—get this—they work for rival organizations.
One day, they both get a new gig: take each other out. Their pride and pro ethics turn it into an all-out escalation. After a wild chain of events, they realize they’re each other’s targets—and the love of their life is the enemy.
In the end, they team up, beat the crisis, take down the org’s hitmen, and live happily ever after. Their last name’s Smith, so the movie’s called Mr. & Mrs. Smith.”
Why Luc? Action flicks are his wheelhouse, and Dunn knows this story inside out—it’s an easy pitch. Plus, it’s a 20th Century Fox film in another life. Might as well cut them off at the pass!
