And these Snyder threads in particular.
A bald chubby man using the eraser from Microsoft paint applies it onto Henry Cavills face. Yeah, yeah, That's my jam!
He high fives an older looking redhairishhh Andy Dick, he is in charge of using boring reused music scores.
Hollywood Hills-
We pan to a shot of an older but good looking man in his 50s. He is rocking slowly back and forth on his chair, s somber look on his face, he is carving a wooden gun from a piece of wood. This man is Zack Snyder.
He was ashamed of his dark persiflage, his boasting, his pretensions of courage and ruthlessness; he was sorry about his cold-bloodedness, his dispassion, his inability to express what he now believed was the case- that he truly regretted killing Superman, that he missed the man as much as anybody and wished his murder hadn't been necessary. Even as he circulated Comic Con he knew the smiles disappeared when he passed by. He received so many menacing tweets that he could read them without any reaction except curiosity. He kept to his office space all day, flipping over playing cards, looking at his destiny in every King and Joker cards. Geoff Johns came up from Malibu at one P.M. on the 8th. He had no grand scheme. No strategy.
No agreement with higher WB authorities. Nothing but a vague longing for a lighter story, and a generalized fast food approach to films going forward. Jokes without placement. Monks listening to Gaga, rap music with of course the black character. On November 17th the bald man of the west, a man named Joss would complete his life work.
That evening he would spend it surrounded with his beautiful family, the lights and flashes of downtown LA would seem like fireworks from his porch. He would take a deep breathe and close the door behind him, and start from a blank page.