[T]he Left Behind saga offers an interesting example of this approach gone awry. The books became a movie franchise—with two sequels to date—under the guidance of Cloud Ten Pictures, an independent studio that specializes in spreading the Gospel. Made on the cheap with ultra-cheesy production value and only successful in the direct-to-video market (and church screenings), the films angered Tim LaHaye, [Jerry B.] Jenkins' writing partner, to the point where he sued the studio for not making blockbusters out of the books. The lawsuit never went anywhere, but the studio is still trying to settle with LaHaye.

"It's been a long, ongoing concern of ours," says André Van Heerden, Cloud Ten CEO and co-writer of the films. "The claims are baseless, but it has hurt our ability to do business. It's something we wish we all could have avoided." Jenkins, meanwhile, sides with his colleague. "The Passion of the Christ revealed the massive scope of the audience," he says. "Whenever I see a big budget, special effects-laden picture, I imagine what might have been."

We, too, could use a fun Apocalypse picture these days — preferably something with the grit and gristle of The Passion, but maybe with Left Behind franchise star Kirk Cameron symbolically flayed by a fork-tongued studio exec eager to show the former teen idol how to "cut for length." And then, like the new wave of Iraq-themed comedies, market it as a laffer. Box. Office. Gold.

• David vs. Goliath [Heeb]

He claims that in their original negotiations, Gibson said he was going to pay for the film himself, and "because he was so rich," he wouldn't take a cut of any profits, but that they would be divided among the other people who worked on the movie, "excluding Gibson. [...]

Fitzgerald, after lengthily describing his own Catholicism and fervent belief in the project (which he claims is how he got hired in the first place), says Gibson "preyed monetarily" on him, "taking advantage of his unbridled enthusiasm for the project and with full cognizance of [Fitzgerald's] fundamental personal and spiritual beliefs. In making a mockery of his own purported belief system, Gibson callously and greedily exploited [Fitzgerald]," the suit read.

"He shamelessly minted and cobbled gobbles of money from 'The Passion.' And just as Gibson extracted shared screenplay credit from [Fitzgerald], he also extracted sums of money due [Fitzgerald]," the suit continued. [...]

George R. Hedges, an attorney for Gibson's production company, Icon, told People, the lawsuit "is utterly baseless and the charges are utterly baseless."

Fitzgerald's suit couldn't be any worse-timed for the director, landing on the cusp of a bold new era for the most downtrodden and exploited peg of Hollywood's rigid above-the-line caste system. It's disputes like this that can plant seeds of simmering resentment, eventually exploding on the side of the Pacific Coast Highway as an officer waves away the potent agave fumes that accompany Gibson's hate-fueled accusations of, "Are you a screenwriter? Fucking screenwriters... The screenwriters are responsible for all the strikes in the world."

• Writer sues Mel Gibson over 'Passion' script [Access Hollywood]