Chapter 635: Chapter 635: Martin Leads Oscars!
To drum up buzz for the Oscars, New Yorker Natalie Portman didn't hesitate to host her engagement ceremony in Los Angeles.
The event seemed understated, with only a handful of guests invited, but the news had spread like wildfire. Dozens of entertainment reporters clamored around a villa in Malibu, eager for a scoop.
Martin strode into the villa, greeted warmly by Ari Emmanuel.
"Brilliant idea!" Ari whispered as they strolled to the backyard lawn. "Even though the ballots won't be mailed until month-end, Nat's already ahead of the pack."
Martin cautioned, "This tactic's a one-time shot. It won't pack the same punch next time."
Ali nodded knowingly. "Securing Best Actress now opens doors for Nat's commercial ventures. Hollywood's been craving a reigning leading lady since Jolia Roberts. Nat could be it."
He underscored, "She's one of our own," hinting at their shared Jewish heritage.
"Considering making Nat our flagship client?" Martin inquired.
Ali nodded. "It's in the cards. Post-Oscar projects are already in the pipeline, some involving you."
Martin mulled over the projects tied to him—whether starring in "The Martian" and "Escape from Tehran" or investing in "Napoleon Beauty." None seemed directly linked to Nat.
Ari elucidated, "Warner's big on adapting Gillian Flynn's 'Dark Places.' Given 'Gone Girl's' success, your involvement is a game-changer."
"Gillian's a Hollywood hotshot," Martin acknowledged.
Ari prodded, "How's 'Gone Girl' doing at the box office?"
"Yesterday's tally hit $185 million in North America," Martin informed.
Ali applauded, "Easily another $200 million hit stateside, nearing $500 million globally. A non-comedy, non-horror, non-action R-rated gem—your foresight's impeccable, Martin."
Martin was surprised by Warner's collaboration with Natalie but refrained from voicing skepticism. No one dared to dismiss the potential of "Dark Place."
Spotting Natalie and Benjamin on the lawn, Martin approached with well wishes and gifts, joining Thomas, who had arrived earlier.
Thomas shared, "Met Ridley Scott at Warner Studios today. 'Pharaohs and Gods' post-production's wrapping up. Final edit's due before February. Ridley's itching to dive into 'The Martian.'"
Martin envisioned the epic's future. "Ridley's magic. No final cut like 'Kingdom of Heaven.' This film's bound for greatness."
Uninterested in idle gossip, Martin queried, "NASA's response?"
Through Washington ties, Martin had sent copies of Andy Weir's novel to NASA, essential for the film's authenticity.
Without NASA's backing, filming would be grounded before it began.
Thomas chimed in, "Louise's in Washington ironing out a cooperation deal with NASA."
"I'll ring Louise later," Martin noted.
Ali joined them, taking a seat beside Martin. "Ridley's bumped Fox's new 'Alien' to direct 'The Martian.' It's a shift from his sci-fi forte. Can it deliver?"
Martin aimed to instill confidence. "I'm 80% sure. Ridley excels in sci-fi..."
"No, his forte's epics," Ari interjected, emphasizing, "Keep that in mind, especially around Ridley. Praise his epics—they speak volumes."
Martin grasped the advice, stating simply, "Ridley's epics are unparalleled."
He mentally vetoed mentioning Ridley's films beyond "Gladiator."
As the engagement ceremony commenced, the trio fell silent, observing the proceedings.
Photographers and videographers snapped away, capturing moments destined to ignite media frenzy as Oscar votes loomed.
Post-ceremony, attendees convened for the reception.
Pregnant Natalie sought out Martin, expressing gratitude, "Your ingenuity's given me a leg up over competitors."
Thrilled with her success, she enthused, "I've bagged fourteen Best Actress nods since the Gotham Independent Awards."
"You're welcome, Nat," Martin grinned. "Your performance in 'Black Swan' was stellar."
Natalie, far from modest, shared, "I poured my heart into it. Spent six months perfecting ballet, did 90% of my own stunts."
Martin nodded, recognizing such PR savvy was par for the course in Oscar campaigns.
A Best Actress win would cement Natalie's status as the first '80s-born winner—a significant milestone.
Eager for more votes, she queried, "Any other strategies to sway voters?"
Martin pondered, "Can't think of any at the moment."
"You're a maestro at scripts, acting, and promotion," Natalie whispered, glancing around discreetly. "How about a private 'thank you' later? Just you and me?"
She cradled her belly, adding, "I may not be Elizabeth Olsen, but this moment's unique, right?"
Martin, maintaining his moral compass, declined. "We're friends, Nat. No need for that. Your performance alone's a winner."
Natalie's sigh hinted at regret. "Wish we'd met sooner."
Martin, aware of his allure, mused, "How much sooner, I wonder?"
To steer clear of further entanglement, Martin found an excuse to join Ari and Thomas.
Ali, sensing Martin's unease, inquired, "Something on your mind?"
Martin shook his head, at a loss for words.
Understanding Martin's proximity to Natalie, Ari reassured, "Nat's bold and adventurous. It's all part of her cleverly crafted persona—high IQ, education, indifferent to fame and fortune."
"Got it," Martin chuckled self-deprecatingly. "Still a beacon of sunshine and an American hero." After the reception, Thomas hopped into Martin's car.
Bruce steered towards Burbank, the grand poster of Leonardo DiCaprio catching Thomas's eye. "This year's Oscar PR feels odd," he remarked, flicking through a newspaper displaying Leo wielding a water gun. "Best Actress Leo's skipping the acting spiel, flaunting his belly instead. It's a twist seeing an actor openly embrace ugliness for publicity."
"Harvey's demise ushered in chaos," Martin observed.
Thomas shook his head. "Oscar PR's veered off course."
Bruce chimed in with a laugh. "Martin's single-handedly steering Oscars down a new PR path!"
Thomas nodded vigorously. "Indeed."
From Leonardo's self-deprecation to Natalie flaunting her baby bump, James Franco showcasing his "injury" to Nicole Kidman gushing over love—Oscar PR seemed adrift post-Harvey Weinstein, all thanks to Martin.
Martin mused privately that hawking misery and bumps trumped LGBTQ campaigns.
Back at the studio, Martin phoned Louise, who'd already initiated talks with NASA.
In LA, Bradt and Andy Weir were crafting the script, with fifty pages detailing NASA's technical intricacies.
NASA, akin to FBI and CIA, maintained a Hollywood liaison office, amenable to collaborations.
Louise relayed NASA's admiration for "The Martian," lauding its blend of gripping narrative and scientific accuracy—a rarity in sci-fi.
While awaiting official project kick-off, Martin pondered publicity avenues. He tasked Louise with exploring the feasibility of incorporating space launch paraphernalia into promotional materials—a stellar gimmick, if executed well.
Simultaneously, the studio scrounged funds for the mammoth $100 million budget of "The Martian," Davis Studio's first foray into nine-figure investments.
As Christmas approached, the studio braced for relocation post-holidays.
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