Chương 641: Chapter 641: The Boss of The Trio!
In the captivating image, Martin Davis appeared unchanged by time, exuding a matured demeanor and an added allure.
Anne Hathaway's crimson lips formed a taut line, yet suddenly, a numbness crept over her cheeks, and her throat clenched as if grasping at words, mirroring moments shared with Martin.
A peculiar sound nearly escaped her throat, swiftly muffled by her hand, Anne recoiled, feeling the precariousness of the situation. Memories flooded her mind, reminiscing the joyful moments with Martin, as she glimpsed at his ranking.
"NO.3, Martin Davis!
- Earning a staggering 82 million US dollars!
- 40 million from "Inception".
- 32 million from "Gone Girl".
- 10 million from other film royalties."
Though just an estimation, Anne knew the figures were close to reality, realizing Martin could have topped the list in previous years, surpassing Spielberg, Leonardo, Nolan, and others.
Despite her own substantial income nearing 10 million, Anne felt it insufficient, burdened by exorbitant expenses. She recalled Martin's modest beginnings, his rapid ascent to stardom within five years.
James Franco, noticing Anne's reverie, inquired, "Are you alright?"
Anne snapped back, "I'm fine," returning the magazine before retreating backstage, grappling with her own regrets.
Yearning for wealth and beauty, Anne acknowledged that Martin embodied both, yet she had failed to recognize it.
In that moment, she wished she could turn back time and ask Martin if he'd reconsider.
Backstage, Anne encountered Tom Sherak, the newly appointed Academy president, discussing award logistics with the ceremony director.
"We've finalized the Best Picture nominees," the director informed Sherak, listing Spielberg, Tom Hanks, and Martin Davis.
Sherak nodded thoughtfully, expressing concern over Martin's youth and the declining influence of the Oscars. However, he emphasized the need to reverse this trend.
Noting Sandra Bullock's injury, Sherak proposed her as a guest alongside Jack and Martin, creating a Hollywood trio with unparalleled allure.
Recalling legendary tales of their camaraderie, the director queried, "What if Leonardo doesn't win?"
Sherak's response echoed with excitement, emphasizing the thrill of the event, regardless of the outcome.
Reflecting on past successes, the director cited the highest ratings in the last five years, reminiscing about the momentous occasion when Spielberg, Coppola, and Lucas honored Scorsese with the Best Director award.
"That's how the Best Actor award guest was decided," Tom Sherak remarked, his tone reflecting the weight of the decision. "It's a significant responsibility. The Oscars are the pinnacle of the Academy. If their influence wanes, it spells trouble for us."
Adding to his earlier statement, Sherak suggested, "For Best Picture, let Spielberg or Hanks take the stage. We'll decide between the two and see who's willing to attend."
Anne strolled by, feigning ignorance to Sherak's words, yet her thoughts churned with anticipation for the awards. She imagined Martin backstage during the ceremony, their chance encounter reigniting old flames.
She'd always perceived Martin as kind, caring, and sentimental.
...
Inside the reception room at Davis Studio in Burbank, Inspector Geralt paid a visit.
Martin inquired, "Any progress on the case?"
"We've cracked it," Geralt replied efficiently, presenting Martin with a dossier. "It was this group of Mexicans."
Among the photos, Martin vaguely recognized two faces—likely the delivery men from the day the safe was moved. Confirming his suspicion, he asked, "Have they been apprehended?"
Geralt's expression soured. "We tracked them down, but they'd fled to Mexico, likely in Tijuana. We've alerted the authorities there, but it's a complex situation."
Unperturbed, Martin dismissed their escape, pressing, "Any leads on who might be behind them?"
Shaking his head, Geralt admitted, "Not yet. They all fled south."
Understanding the challenges, Martin bid Geralt farewell, expressing gratitude for the update.
Back inside, he shared the information with Bruce, seeking insight.
"Four of them were involved in safe deliveries," Bruce observed.
Martin contemplated, "Perhaps they were tipped off to scout the location during the deliveries. That day, scripts were scattered on my desk."
"It's plausible," Bruce agreed. "But who's pulling the strings?"
Martin assured, "We'll find out soon."
Glancing at his watch, he decided, "Let's head to Brentwood. There's a screening of 'Shutter Island' tonight. After enduring Leo's marathon, I'll lend a hand with his public relations."
Bruce thought wryly, these three troublemakers not only attract foes but also stumble into trouble themselves when bored.
...
Another wrap-up party concluded, leaving Leonardo drained both mentally and physically. Slumping onto the sofa, he couldn't muster the energy to rise.
This venture demanded unprecedented resources and effort from him.
Martin had tirelessly championed his cause, while Leonardo threw himself into every opportunity. Meetings with Academy members consumed his days.
The food tasted bland, the exhaustion settling like a heavy weight.
Martin tossed a water bottle to Leonardo, offering, "Kathleen Kennedy assured me she'll swing the Best Actor vote your way. As the newly-elected vice president of the Academy, her influence could sway many."
Nicholson sauntered over, taking a seat on a nearby sofa. "Big changes at the academy this time around," he began, his tone tinged with intrigue. "Sid Gannis steps down voluntarily, Warren Beatty opts out, and in steps Tom Sherak at 65, elected chairman, alongside Catherine Kennedy and Tom Hanks as vice presidents. The academy's certainly embracing a youthful makeover."
Martin quipped, "Any misunderstandings about youth? At 65, we're practically spring chickens..."
Leonardo chuckled, "A rejuvenation for the ages."
"Old-timers like us aren't ready to bow out just yet, while the young guns are itching to take charge," Nicholson mused, adjusting his sunglasses with a flair. "Martin, your PR blitz, coupled with the academy shake-up, spells opportunity for Leo."
Leo declared fiercely, "I'll stay ugly till the end."
Switching gears, Nicholson inquired, "Any progress on your intruder?"
"We've identified the suspects, but they've skipped town," Martin replied, unfazed by the intrusion. "LAPD's got intel on six suspects, all Mexican nationals. They high-tailed it to Tijuana post-haste. Complex situation down there."
Nicholson teased, "Need a great detective to sort it out?"
"Taking on Tijuana's no joke," Martin warned. "You'll be in a tight spot, and I can't bail you out."
Nicholson waved off the suggestion, recognizing the perils. "Forget Tijuana."
A line in the sand, where angels fear to tread.
Tijuana's gangs wouldn't take kindly to Hollywood's trio. Once, they might've been held for ransom, but not anymore.
Leo proposed, "Do we let this slide? When have we ever taken such a hit?"
"Never," Martin affirmed. "I'm considering hiring mercenaries. Clean house in Tijuana."
Nicholson nodded, intrigued. "Money talks. A hefty sum could sway many."
Having lived on the wild side in California for decades, he added, "Got info on these folks?"
Martin confirmed, "LAPD's got their identities and plenty of surveillance."
Nicholson, not one for pleasantries, quipped, "Throw in two hundred grand for good measure. Cost of doing business."
"Money's no issue," Martin assured. "But stay out of Mexico. No need for you to risk it."
Nicholson grinned, "No trip to Mexico for me. Call me Andrew the Enforcer!"
Rising to his feet, he proclaimed, "No one messes with our trio and gets away with it! I, the boss of the bastard trio, forbid it!"
Leo chimed in, "That's why you're our boss."
Martin raised his thumb in agreement, "The unique charm of our trio's boss."
Tình trạng nguồn điện hàng tuần
-- Xếp hạng
Quyền lực 
-- Đá
Quyền lực