章 769: Chapter 770: Thud
[Chapter 770: Thud]
As the crew tidied up the set, the last batch of people began to head back to their accommodations.
Eric and Kathryn lingered at the back of the crowd. The others instinctively gave them space for a private chat, even Kathryn's assistant discreetly stepped away. Noticing this, Kathryn's face flushed slightly, but she still made an effort to discuss the film's progress with Eric.
"I plan to finish all the group scenes with Terrence in the next month, then we can take our time to polish the remaining shots. Based on our schedule, we'll be filming here until May. We've also been invited to the Venice Film Festival; the film will premiere there in September," she noted.
Eric replied, "The Venice Film Festival focuses more on art films. Given the material of this movie, it probably fits better with the Berlin Film Festival's political atmosphere, don't you think?"
"True," Kathryn nodded. "But the Berlin Film Festival happens every February. There's no way we'll make it this year. If you're willing to push the film's release back a year, we could submit it for next year's Berlin Film Festival."
"Well, that won't be necessary," Eric said with a smile and a shake of his head. "Our main goal is still the Oscars."
"Although we're exploring a completely different war theme, compared to last year's film, it is unlikely to show Hanks' breakthrough. The Oscar chances don't look great, so brace yourself," Kathryn teased Eric lightly but broke into laughter. "I almost forgot, you don't really care about the Oscars."
"You've got that wrong; I care about the Oscars," he corrected her.
Kathryn shot him a sidelong glance, "What you care about is the economic benefits the Oscars bring."
"Okay, I admit it," Eric said, raising his hands in mock surrender. "So, do you think I seem quite vulgar now, and want to distance yourself from me?"
Kathryn chuckled softly and asked, "I heard you almost got kidnapped in Mexico?"
"It wasn't that serious; they didn't even fire a shot. The media just exaggerated things for a story," he reassured her.
Kathryn nodded, seeming to want to ask something else but hesitating to speak. Eric could guess what was on her mind; she likely wanted to bring up Titanic.
Sensing her instinctive reluctance to mention Cameron in front of him, Eric smiled and said, "Titanic might also be pushed to a year end release now, so the situation might be just like the year before."
The year before, Kathryn's Saving Private Ryan faced off against Cameron's True Lies during the summer release, and due to Titanic's significant delays, that scenario was bound to repeat at the end of the year.
However, relative to the commercial-heavy Saving Private Ryan, although The Thin Red Line was a war film, it emphasized artistic presentation and risked being a bit dull. It probably wouldn't perform too well at the box office this year. Of course, if they managed to rekindle the rivalry between Kathryn and Cameron's new films, with enough buzz, The Thin Red Line's box office would surely surpass the original just by generating enough conversation.
"Leave the filming to me; I'll let you handle the rest," Kathryn said calmly, showing no disdain for the current situation.
Artists pursue cinematic art, but they couldn't let film companies go under. As a female director in Hollywood who hadn't always had it easy, Kathryn understood this very well.
...
Upon returning to the crew's accommodations, night had fallen. After a simple dinner, Kathryn and the others headed to a small post-production studio in the lodge to review the day's footage.
Eric helped tidy up, also checking on the progress the crew had made recently. Since he wasn't particularly skilled in artistic films, he didn't want to overstep; he patiently listened to Kathryn and Terrence Malick's explanations, occasionally chiming in with his own observations, not particularly concerned about whether they'd be accepted.
They worked until nearly ten o'clock. Upon leaving the studio, a gentle breeze drifted outside, where several crew members had gathered to drink, chat, and play cards. The aroma of barbecued meat wafted through the air.
Terrence Malick nodded to Eric and headed toward the crowd with two production assistants who had also emerged from the post-production studio.
Kathryn waved at them and turned to Eric, asking, "Are you going over?"
"What about you?" he retorted.
Kathryn shook her head. "I want to go back and rest."
"Oh, then I'll rest too. I'm exhausted from traveling all day," he replied.
Kathryn nodded, walking alongside Eric towards the temporary accommodations.
...
Arriving outside the wooden cabin where Kathryn was staying, she glanced at the man who showed no signs of leaving, her expression a mix of annoyance and a hint of shyness. "Aren't you going back?"
"Oh, I heard there are a lot of snakes in Australia. Should I help you check for them?" he joked.
Kathryn shook her head. "I'm not afraid of snakes."
Eric feigned disappointment, "How can that be? A woman shouldn't be unafraid of snakes."
Kathryn raised an eyebrow. "Why should a woman fear snakes?"
"What I mean is," Eric shrugged, "even if you genuinely aren't afraid of snakes, you should at least act scared in front of a man. It's just a normal social cue."
"You really have a lot of twisted logic," Kathryn remarked, rolling her eyes at him. She pulled out her keys, opened the door, and walked in without another word.
Eric chuckled; since she hadn't outright rejected him, he followed her inside.
The small room of about ten square meters was simply furnished with a folding bed, a set of tables and chairs, and two large suitcases tucked in a corner.
Seeing Eric enter uninvited, Kathryn just gave him a mild eye-roll, retrieving a bottle of water from a small box by the wall and handing it to him. "This is all I have; want it?"
"Thanks," Eric said as he accepted it, taking a seat to casually browse the director's script laying on the table.
Kathryn ignored him, freeing her ponytail as she arranged her brown hair and idly scrutinized her reflection in the wall mirror. Though she had been diligent about sun protection, her skin had still tanned a little over time.
Feeling the sudden surge of a strange thought, she shifted her gaze, took a few steps back, and sat down on the edge of the bed to untie the laces of her hiking boots.
Because the environmental protections were so effective, Australia did have a bit of a snake problem. To avoid a potential bite from accidentally stepping on one, she still wore high leather hiking boots, which were difficult to remove. As she untied her laces, memories of the little man stubbornly lingering in her room flooded her mind. She kicked her leg at the nearby chair. "Hey, could you help me take these off?"
Eric turned to her, chuckling as he stood up. "Happy to oblige, madam."
As Eric knelt down before her, Kathryn suddenly felt a twinge of regret, but he was already grabbing her calf, pulling at the boot with real effort. Once her boots were off and placed aside, she gazed longingly at the slippers by the door without knowing what to say.
To her surprise, she heard Eric wrinkle his nose and say, "What's that smell? It's pretty awful."
Not a single woman would appreciate a man commenting on her odor, and Kathryn instinctively kicked Eric. Then she halted, explaining, "I sprayed snake repellent on the boots; what, are you already grossed out?"
The last comment came with a hint of mournfulness, and Eric smiled slightly, grasping her leg where she had kicked him. "How about I give you a leg massage? After a long day, your legs must be sore, right?"
"No, no thanks," Kathryn quickly shook her head. But as Eric's strong hand found its way to her calf, a wave of unexpected excitement coursed through her, causing her to lose all resistance -- or maybe she hadn't been too resistant to begin with.
If one ignored the age difference, this man in front of her seemed like a perfect lover: gentle, caring, incredibly talented, and with vast wealth that others could only dream of. He lacked the arrogance typical of other wealthy types and even showed an endearing bit of mischief that was hard to find annoying.
Lost in her thoughts, Kathryn snapped back to reality only to find herself lying on the bed.
"Eric, you..."
She weakly pushed at him, feeling his kiss suddenly land on her sensitive neck, sending shivers racing down her spine. At that moment, she thought, maybe she should just let it happen.
The thought crossed her mind, and she shifted from resistance to wrapping her arms around his waist.
Encouraged by this silent approval, Eric grew bolder, slipping his hand beneath the hem of her thin T-shirt. Kathryn gradually began to respond in kind.
The flimsy steel folding bed creaked under their movements, which perhaps validated the saying about mischief often leading to sorrow. Or maybe they were just moving around too much.
In the blink of an eye, a sudden cracking sound reverberated from somewhere, followed by the metallic snap of a break. Eric and Kathryn both felt the small bed jerk backward at the same moment.
Thud--
Kathryn, who had been squinting her eyes shut, abruptly opened them wide, locking gazes with Eric's innocent expression.
Knowing that their plans for the night were likely dashed, Eric tried to lighten the mood. "So, I guess providing poor furniture for directors is grounds for termination, right?"
A burst of suppressed laughter escaped the next room before falling silent.
Kathryn, hearing her assistant's muffled giggle, covered her face with her hands, refusing to make another sound.
The awkwardness hung in the air for a moment. Eric carefully got up, adjusting Kathryn's shirt that had been lifted and softly said, "I'll go get someone to bring a new bed."
"No," Kathryn, still hiding her face, quickly responded, but her hands remained firmly in place.
"Then you get up, and I'll help you clean up. Maybe it could still be usable?"
"No."
"Then..." Eric thought for a moment, softly tapping the wall twice and calling out to the other side. "Hey, you didn't hear anything, did you?"
No answer.
Eric knocked two more times and repeated himself.
Still no answer.
He shrugged and turned back to the proclaiming ostrich-like Kathryn. "See? There's no one next door; it was just your imagination. Come on, get up, and I'll help you clean up."
Kathryn finally loosened one hand, groping for a pillow and tossing it at Eric. "Shut up, I can handle it myself."
He caught the pillow and placed it aside before leaning over to kiss the exposed part of her face, saying softly, "Alright then, I'll leave you to it. Goodnight."
"Get lost."
Eric chuckled and added quietly, "So, when we get back to L.A., how about dinner?"
Kathryn didn't feel like answering that right now, but after waiting for a while without seeing the little man budge, she finally nodded shyly.
...
Eric had initially planned to stay a few more days on set, but after the embarrassing moment last night, even though Kathryn's assistant was the only witness, she behaved very awkwardly around him the next day, leading to several small mishaps during filming.
Concerned that his prolonged presence would affect Kathryn's work or even raise suspicions among others, Eric decided to leave Dantree. On the third day, he returned to Cairns and boarded a flight back to Los Angeles.
...
As Eric departed Australia, a family of four in southern Queensland's Brisbane welcomed an unexpected visitor.
Peter Rich, one of the assistants who had traveled with Eric to Australia, didn't return to Los Angeles with him. Following Eric's instructions, he remained in Sydney that day, using connections through Firefly Group's Australian branch to contact the editor of DOLLY magazine. After obtaining Miranda Kerr's detailed contact information, he promptly made his way to her home in Brisbane.
It happened to be a Saturday, and in the affluent suburban area of northern Brisbane, the family welcomed this polite young man into their living room.
Miranda Kerr's father, John, sat on the couch, repeatedly examining the beautifully printed business card in his hands, which bore the almost surreal title of Assistant to the Chairman of Firefly Group.
While his daughter's appearance on the magazine cover had given their family a bit of local fame, John had never imagined that his daughter would catch the attention of a large multinational media company.
After taking a sip of coffee handed to him by John's wife, Therese, Peter Rich politely surveyed the young girl quietly sitting in the single armchair on his left. Although she was only thirteen, she already had an elegant appearance, though her skin was a bit darker, making her look less enchanting than in her photographs.
"So, Mr. Rich," John finally asked, "what brings you here?"
"Well," Peter Rich began, "Mr. Williams came across Miss Kerr's photo in DOLLY magazine. He thought she would be perfect for a role in the upcoming 007 film, Casino Royale, and sent me to gauge her interest in participating."
*****
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