I was scrolling Deadline when a headline stopped my thumb. Medusa — not a textbook footnote, but a solo movie — showed up in the byline. You can feel the room tilt when a myth gets a green light.
I’m not surprised you’re curious. I follow these beats, and I’ll walk you through what’s public, what’s likely, and what I’d bet on if I had to place odds.
At the box office and on streaming, Greek myths are back. Here’s what that wave means for Medusa.
Hollywood is feeding a hunger for Olympus-era stories: Disney’s Percy Jackson, the renewed interest in The Odyssey adaptations, and the steady reboot economy. When a studio smells momentum, they circle properties that can be family-friendly and franchise-ready.
That context is why this report matters: Deadline says Michael Montemayor — a co-writer on the upcoming Tangled remake — is penning a Medusa script for Seven Bucks, Dwayne Johnson’s production outfit. Deadline also notes Johnson isn’t attached as a star or producer right now. That’s the kind of detail that changes how studios position a film.
Is Disney making a Medusa movie?
Short answer: Not exactly. The report ties the project to Seven Bucks and the writer, and the studio in question is Disney-adjacent, but official studio announcements are not yet on record. You should read this as an early-stage development with credible creative talent and backers, not a finished deal.
At writers’ rooms and coffee shops, myth gets reworked for modern audiences. Here’s what the creative brief might look like.
Montemayor’s background — the Tangled remake — signals a writer comfortable working inside franchise expectations while tweaking tone. That could mean a Medusa movie that balances spectacle with character beats. Medusa as a lead needs sympathy; otherwise you risk a one-note monster.
Think of Medusa as a pop-cultural lightning rod. She attracts argument, merchandise, and headlines. That attention can be a strength if the script uses mythic elements to probe identity and power rather than only stacking set pieces.
Who is writing the Medusa movie?
Michael Montemayor is the named writer. He co-wrote the Tangled remake and is now attached through Seven Bucks. Seven Bucks has clout — Dwayne Johnson’s company has built hits across genres — but Deadline’s note that Johnson isn’t currently involved is the sort of small print that matters: it changes marketing, budget expectations, and potential casting tactics.
Will the Medusa movie have songs?
Disney and music have a long, profitable history, and the presence of a writer from Tangled invites the question. But songs depend on tonal choices. If the studio pushes for a family musical, cues will be written early and integrated into the story. If the film skews darker — think the grit of God of War or the dramatic stakes of Clash of the Titans — songs could be dropped for a more ominous soundscape.
Given the cross-media echoes — Medusa-inspired characters in Hades and nods in anime like One Piece — there’s clear audience appetite for both playful and serious takes. You and I will watch how the tone is sold first: trailers, composer credits, and casting hints tell you more than early plot leaks.
At conventions and social feeds, fan expectations move fast. Here’s where the risk and reward meet.
If you favor reinvention, a sympathetic origin story that reframes Medusa’s curse as injustice could land powerfully. If you’re skeptical, the danger is turning a complex figure into a bland antagonist. The line between fresh and forgettable is thin.
The script could calcify into a museum artifact if it treats myth as mere wallpaper. Or it could spark a new franchise if it reimagines agency and consequence in a way that feels modern.
I’ll be watching the credits, the casting announcements, and whether Seven Bucks leans into Dwayne Johnson’s brand or lets Medusa stand alone. You should, too — because this is the kind of project that reshapes what studios think they can sell to families and fandoms alike.
So which version do you want to see: a sympathetic Medusa searching for justice, or a spectacle-first monster movie that petrifies critics—and audiences—into silence?