[Chapter 199: Award Selection]
After changing planes in London and flying for over two hours, Eric and his companion finally arrived at Marco Polo Airport in Venice.
Waiting for them were Jonathan Demme and Virginia Madsen, along with a middle-aged man named Bill Garrett, plus two assistants. After introductions, Eric learned that Bill Garrett was the manager of Disney's European branch. Because Disney had acquired the distribution rights, he was sent to assist Jonathan Demme with the film's publicity and promotion.
After some light chit-chat, Eric and his group boarded a yacht. Instead of heading to the main island of Venice, they went straight to Lido Island to check into a boutique hotel. This hotel had an interesting history, as it was said that the Venice Film Festival was originally established to address the fall tourist shortage at boutique hotels. Now, during the festival, these hotels had become a status symbol; only film crews participating in the main competition or those specially invited could stay there.
As one of the heavyweight guests at the festival, Eric certainly had the right to stay there, and his room was a luxurious suite with an ocean view.
...
"Ah, bed!" After Jonathan and Bill left, Eric sighed, flopping onto the large bed in the bedroom, rolling around for a moment.
Virginia, carefully organizing Eric's belongings, chuckled softly. "Tired from the flight?"
"Not really tired, just felt terrible. We hit turbulence over the Atlantic," Eric replied, kicking off his shoes and leaning back comfortably against the bed, glancing over at the woman as she hung his clothes in the closet.
Virginia wore a sleeveless white blouse with lace trim and form-fitting white trousers. From the side, the outfit highlighted her perfect curves, making Eric's fingers twitch with excitement.
Unable to resist, Eric jumped off the bed and approached Virginia from behind, wrapping his arms around her slender waist, his hands resting on the skin exposed between her blouse and trousers. He leaned over to kiss her right cheek, just below her ruby-studded earlobes.
Startled by Eric's sudden intimacy, Virginia shivered and dropped a jacket she had been holding. Placing her small hand on Eric's arm, her voice came out a bit breathless. "Eric, don't do this. They're waiting for us in the restaurant downstairs."
Eric captured her soft lips with his, savoring the moment before whispering, "Come to my room tonight."
"That... that's not possible," Virginia almost gasped, feeling the pressure of Eric against her backside. "What if someone sees? Let's wait until we're back in Los Angeles, then... then we can talk, okay?"
"Fine," Eric felt a bit disappointed but quickly understood that since the hotel was full of crew members and festival judges, being caught with Virginia would have unpredictable consequences. He reluctantly lifted his hand to gently squeeze her bosom and muttered, "You look really good in that outfit."
Virginia turned to face him, tilting her chin up to plant a kiss on Eric's cheek, laughing, "Then I'll wear it for you more often."
"Actually," Eric leaned in, lowering his voice for effect. "You look even better without clothes."
Virginia thought he might have something important to say, only to realize he was teasing her again. Rolling her eyes, she lightly tapped his shoulder. "You little rascal."
Eric laughed heartily and playfully slapped her backside, picking up the jacket she had dropped. "Let me help you tidy up so they don't get anxious waiting."
...
"Eric, here's the information on John Landis. You'd best take a look before the meeting tonight," Bill Garrett from Disney handed him a packet while they sat around a table in the hotel restaurant.
Eric had already gathered some background on John Landis, but he knew Disney's dossier would be more detailed. He opened it in front of everyone and casually asked, "What's the general situation looking like?"
Jonathan Demme and Bill Garrett exchanged glances before Bill spoke up. "We've made ample preparations and even connected with some of the judges for this year's festival. While we haven't received any promises, several judges seemed to have a good impression of the film. We've also contacted local media, who will assist with press coverage once the festival starts."
"Good to hear," Eric nodded in satisfaction. For a festival like Venice, accomplishing that much in public relations was already significant. After thinking for a moment, he then asked, "What about the awards?"
Bill replied, "The Golden Lion is out of reach; it's practically predetermined. Our best chances are the Silver Lion and Best Screenplay."
Once Bill finished, Jonathan Demme and the others glanced at Eric, who was set to meet with one of this year's judges, John Landis, that night. They knew this topic would undoubtedly come up. John Landis had already indicated he would help lobby for their film, since, after all, he was American and not one of those die-hard art purists; he was always a commercial director.
Eric wasn't sure who first suggested the meeting; maybe it was Landis who was interested, or perhaps it was Jonathan Demme or Bill Garrett that fueled the fire. Regardless, since it could be beneficial, Eric didn't dig deeper and straightforwardly accepted.
When they met, Eric's approach meant that Landis would likely lend support to the film's theme during award deliberations. Even with the anti-war angle, they could expect to secure only one award, so they had to prioritize.
Deep down, Eric hoped to win Best Screenplay for himself, but for the film's box office potential, he recognized they should focus on securing the Silver Lion, which carried more weight.
"Don't worry, I know what I'm doing," Eric assured the eager faces around him.
*****
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