Chương 894: Chapter 894: Balance between Art and Industry!
As Thanksgiving approached, excitement buzzed not only for the holiday but also for the highly anticipated release of "Beauty and the Beast." Co-produced by Disney Pictures and Davis Studio, the live-action fairy tale film hit North American theaters just a week before the festive day. With a staggering production budget of $150 million, expectations were sky-high.
The grand premiere took place at none other than Disneyland in California, a fitting venue for the beloved story. For Disney, success in films like this doesn't just come from box office earnings but from the massive revenues generated by merchandise. When such films hit it big, the profits from dolls, costumes, and other tie-ins far exceed initial projections. The infamous "Elsa dress" from *Frozen* had already set the bar high, making more money than most blockbuster films.
Martin, a key player behind the scenes, and Alan Horn, the chairman of Walt Disney Studios, attended the glamorous premiere. However, in keeping with their low-key approach, neither of them took the red carpet route, preferring to watch the event unfold from the entrance of the iconic Disney Theater.
As they stood together, Alan Horn couldn't help but reminisce. "This is the same place where *Pirates of the Caribbean* had its premiere," he remarked, his eyes scanning the bustling crowd.
Martin, always keeping an eye on the numbers, smiled and responded, "Judging by the pre-sales, *Beauty and the Beast* is already tracking better commercially than *Pirates*."
Horn nodded. "Disney already has millions of Belle dresses ready to hit stores," he said, fully aware of the merchandising powerhouse behind the film.
Martin added, "Based on all the feedback we're seeing, this movie could be the global box office champion this year."
As it turned out, their predictions weren't far off. The market's reaction to *Beauty and the Beast* was nothing short of extraordinary. On its first day in theaters, the film broke November's single-day box office record with a jaw-dropping $67.77 million. By the end of its opening weekend, it had set another milestone: the highest-grossing November weekend in North American history, raking in $178 million.
Critics and audiences alike were enchanted by the film. After years of darker twists on fairy tales, fans finally had a magical experience that felt true to the classics. One moviegoer commented, "After over a decade of darker fairy tale adaptations, I finally saw a real fairy tale come to life. *Beauty and the Beast* is everything a fairy tale movie should be." Another enthusiastically declared, "This is the fairy tale I remember!"
By Christmas, *Beauty and the Beast* had solidified its place in cinematic history, becoming the most successful live-action fairy tale adaptation Hollywood had ever seen. The North American box office surged past $450 million, while global earnings were on the brink of hitting $1 billion.
Industry experts projected that the film would ultimately bring in over $500 million domestically and as much as $1.3 billion worldwide. But beyond the staggering box office numbers, the real story was in the merchandise sales. Within just one month, over five million Belle dresses flew off the shelves, generating an astounding $180 million in revenue. And that was just the beginning, other merchandise sales were equally impressive, underscoring Disney's unmatched ability to capitalize on its beloved characters.
This massive success only fueled Disney's determination to continue adapting its animated classics. Martin's recommendation for Anya Taylor-Joy to play Cinderella paid off when she landed the role after a single audition. Meanwhile, Disney fast-tracked development on a live-action *The Lion King* and *The Jungle Book*, both with Davis Studio as a key partner. And Saoirse Ronan, after starring in another Davis-Disney collaboration, had firmly secured her place as a leading figure in Hollywood.
As the holidays wrapped up and Martin returned to Los Angeles from Atlanta, the excitement in Hollywood showed no signs of slowing down. However, beyond the glitz and glamour of the film industry, other stories were unfolding. In Beverly Hills, on Wisconsin-Madison Street, near the college's administrative building, hundreds of protesters, representing Black and LGBTQ communities, staged sit-ins, demanding the university follow through on its diversity reform promises. While Hollywood was abuzz with success stories, real-world struggles for equality and inclusion continued to unfold in its backyard.
The upcoming wave of social and political movements was certain to impact this year's Oscars, stirring conversations about diversity, representation, and internationalization within Hollywood.
In his office at the Academy's Executive Committee, Tom Sherak, the Academy President, stood by the window, gazing at the sea of protest signs filling the streets below. The demonstrators were vocal, their chants rising in unison, demanding changes in the film industry's approach to representation. Tom rubbed his temples, feeling the pressure mounting. "They're loud," he muttered to Kathleen Kennedy, who was seated nearby. "They remind me of those rebellious students in school who stir up trouble if something doesn't go their way."
Kathleen, the powerhouse CEO of Lucasfilm, watched the reporters circling the scene outside with a more pragmatic approach. "Well, it's not all bad. The mainstream media has latched onto this story, and it's brought a buzz back to awards season. This year's Oscars will have more eyes on it than we've seen in years."
Tom sighed but nodded in agreement. The protests and media coverage would indeed bring attention, but it also meant increased scrutiny. "What about the Koreans?" he asked, turning the conversation toward the international contenders.
Kathleen didn't miss a beat. "They've got three major productions in the running, and they've poured tens of millions into promotions across L.A. They're doing back-to-back events, lobbying every judge they can find."
Tom leaned back, considering the landscape. "Looks like internationalization and diversity might just be the ticket to restoring the Oscars' former glory."
Kathleen gave a measured smile. "For now, yes. Internationalization is easier to embrace because it feels fresh. But diversity—" she paused, her eyes narrowing as if peering into the future—"that's a tricky one. It might work for a few years, but there's always the risk of backlash. The truth is, mainstream society isn't fully on board with these shifts."
Tom shrugged. "We'll ride the wave while we can. If it boosts viewership, it's worth it."
It was clear to both of them that without something to spice up the Oscars, the ratings would plummet. And so, with this backdrop of social tension and growing international presence, films like *Moonlight* began to dominate the conversation. Praised for capturing the essence of both filmmaking and the struggles of marginalized communities, it quickly became the media's darling. *Spotlight*, which had been at the center of attention, gradually lost its luster as *Moonlight* took center stage. In this climate, a film about corruption in the church just couldn't compete with a story about LGBTQ struggles.
Another film making waves was *Split*, thanks to a massive marketing campaign. Martin, the mastermind behind the film, had invested tens of millions into publicity and PR, building a formidable lobbying machine that worked tirelessly, not only in North America but overseas as well. His professional PR team was targeting Academy judges worldwide, ensuring that *Split* stayed on their radar.
As they both knew, having money doesn't guarantee an Oscar, but it certainly helps clear many obstacles in the way.
What set *Split* apart from other contenders was its broad audience appeal. Released two and a half months earlier, the film had already pulled in an impressive $237 million at the North American box office, with an additional $200 million overseas. And with international openings still rolling out, the global box office was expected to hit the $500 million mark.
Despite the financial success, *Split* wasn't without its criticisms. Over time, its IMDb rating had dropped to 8.3, signaling a slight decline in public perception. Yet, Martin's role in the film continued to garner widespread acclaim. From industry insiders to North American media, and even regular moviegoers, praise for his performance was unanimous.
With awards season in full swing, every major prediction agency had Martin pegged as the frontrunner for Best Actor. The buzz was so strong that Las Vegas bookmakers had suspended bets on his chances of winning, sensing the inevitability of his victory.
As the new year of 2016 began and the Oscars loomed closer, the field for Best Actor became increasingly clear. The only real competition Martin faced came from Hollywood veterans like Tom Hanks in *Bridge of Spies*, Eddie Redmayne in *The Danish Girl*, and Michael Fassbender in *Steve Jobs*. Interestingly, the lead actor from *Moonlight* hadn't even submitted for consideration in the Best Actor category, further solidifying Martin's advantage.
For Martin, winning an Oscar was a matter of strategy, not just performance. His philosophy was simple: if you want to win, you have to lay the groundwork well in advance. "If you don't apply for the award and don't secure the nomination," he would often say, "you can't win. It's as simple as that."
As Tom Sherak watched the protesters outside, he knew that this year's Oscars were set to make waves, both on screen and off. Hollywood was at a turning point, with diversity and internationalization leading the charge, but how long these trends would last was anyone's guess. For now, though, all eyes were on the gold statuette and the race to win it.
After Martin received his Oscar ballot, he knew it was going to be a tricky process. Leonardo DiCaprio, who would normally discuss these things with him, was still deep in filming up in Canada, so there was no real chance for what anyone could call "fair and impartial" voting. Instead, Martin fell back on a simple formula, he voted for the films he knew best, mainly his own and Jennifer Aniston's, and for the rest, he picked familiar names and faces.
It wasn't ideal, but what else could he do? He hadn't had time to see most of the nominated films, and like many voters, he relied on recognition rather than detailed evaluation. This, after all, was the secret behind Oscar campaigns, familiarity. Data showed that over 60% of Oscar voters never actually watch the nominated films. In the absence of viewing, it's all about name recognition.
That's why studios spend millions on publicity, to make sure their films and actors stay at the forefront of voters' minds.
As awards season continued, it became clear that Martin was dominating. He racked up Best Actor awards at every turn. He claimed the Independent Awards, including top honors from the Los Angeles and New York Film Critics Association, and even took home the People's Choice Award for Best Actor. In mid-January, at the Golden Globe Awards, Martin clinched another win, this time for Best Actor in a Drama Series.
Next up were the Screen Actors Guild Awards, often a direct predictor of the Oscars. When the announcement came, Martin once again found himself on stage, accepting the award for Best Performance.
These wins all pointed in one direction, Martin was on the verge of securing his second Oscar for Best Actor. But first, he needed that all-important nomination.
On the morning the Oscar nominations were revealed, the conference room at Davis Studio was packed. Martin's team had gathered, his agent Thomas, manager Bruce, studio directors Jessica and Emily, and producer Louise, all with their eyes glued to the TV.
On-screen, Academy President Tom Sherak and actress Emily Blunt were announcing the nominees live on ABC. The room was tense as they approached the category everyone was waiting for: Best Actor.
"Bridge of Spies, Tom Hanks; Steve Jobs, Michael Fassbender; Split, Martin Davis..."
The room erupted in applause and cheers. Thomas and Martin exchanged a triumphant fist bump. Louise grinned and threw her arms around Martin.
"Party tonight?" she asked, her eyes twinkling with excitement.
Martin shook his head firmly. "No party until we win the award," he replied, his tone decisive.
Bruce chuckled quietly and added, "Martin doesn't believe in celebrating at halftime."
Martin nodded. "Exactly. It's too easy to get overconfident. Until I'm holding that Best Actor statuette, anything could happen."
Louise smiled, understanding his caution. "Alright, but when you win, I'm throwing you the biggest celebration you've ever seen."
With the Oscar nominations now officially in, the team dispersed, offering their congratulations as they left. Louise stayed behind, following Martin into his office. She made herself comfortable in a chair in the reception area, casually crossing her legs as she spoke.
"This year's Oscars are shaping up to be a real spectacle," she said, her voice thoughtful. "The Black community is protesting, LGBTQ groups are pushing for reforms, and the Koreans are throwing millions at their campaigns to win over the judges. It feels like there's something bigger happening behind the scenes."
Martin, always one to keep his ear to the ground, nodded knowingly. "You're right. The push is real, and it's coming straight from the Academy's Executive Committee. They're trying to reinvent the Oscars, make them more relevant."
Louise leaned forward slightly. "Makes you wonder what the Oscars will look like in the future."
Before Martin could respond, the intercom on his desk buzzed. He picked it up, and his assistant's voice came through. "Miss Saoirse Ronan is here to see you."
"Send her in," Martin said.
Louise glanced at her watch, then stood. "I should be going. But don't forget; come see me at Sherman Oaks in the next couple of days."
Martin waved her off with a grin. "I'll be there."
Louise stepped out of Martin's office and turned into the corridor, only to find herself face-to-face with Saoirse Ronan. With *Beauty and the Beast* dominating the box office both in North America and globally, Saoirse's star was shining brighter than ever. Yet, despite her meteoric rise, she immediately softened her expression and smiled warmly at Louise.
"Good afternoon, Ms. Mel," Saoirse greeted her with genuine enthusiasm.
Louise returned the smile, pausing briefly to size her up. "It's been a while, Saoirse." Without skipping a beat, she got straight to the point. "I've got a project in the works, about lesbianism. I need two actresses, one older, one younger. Kate Winslet has already signed on for one of the lead roles."
Saoirse's face lit up with interest, but she remained professional. "Please send all the details to my agent, ma'am; the script and the audition process. I can be ready for an audition whenever the team needs me." She knew her current fame had landed her on Louise's radar, but she also knew better than to turn down a potential opportunity with one of Hollywood's top female producers. "I'd love to be considered."
Louise nodded approvingly, pleased with Saoirse's quick response. "You've been doing well lately. Keep up the good work, and good luck." With a nod of finality, Louise turned and headed toward the elevator.
Saoirse watched her leave, her heart still racing from the brief yet intense conversation. She placed a hand on her chest, taking a deep breath to steady herself before continuing down the hallway to Martin's office.
Inside, Martin looked up from his desk as Saoirse entered. "What brings you here today?" he asked, a slight smile playing on his lips.
Saoirse returned his smile. "I wanted to congratulate you on your Best Actor Oscar nomination."
Martin waved it off, his tone casual. "It's not my first rodeo. Nominations don't mean much until you win."
"I know," she replied, her smile fading a little as she sat down. "But still, it's an exciting moment. I'm heading to Sacramento tomorrow to start filming *Lady Bird*, so I wanted to stop by before I'm tied up for a while."
Martin nodded thoughtfully. He had invested in *Lady Bird* after several discussions with director Greta Gerwig and had high hopes for the project. "Greta's got a great vision. Working with her will do wonders for your career."
Saoirse's eyes brightened. "We've always been close friends. She's incredibly thoughtful about her projects."
She hesitated for a moment before adding, "Greta told me that after *Lady Bird* wraps, she's planning to tackle *Little Women*. She wants to bring a fresh take to it."
Martin raised an eyebrow. "That story's been adapted so many times. Are there any issues with the rights?"
Saoirse shook her head. "No issues. *Little Women* has been in the public domain for a while. Greta wants to focus on a version that highlights women's independence in a more modern way."
Martin leaned back in his chair, considering it. "Tell Greta to come see me after *Lady Bird* wraps. We can discuss how to approach the project. If the budget is right, it could be profitable, especially with her vision behind it."
Saoirse smiled gratefully. "I'll let her know. Without your guidance, I don't think I would've built this relationship with her the way I have."
As the workday drew to a close, Martin and Saoirse left the studio together, heading toward the Ritz-Carlton Hotel. On the way, Martin's phone rang. It was Anya Taylor-Joy, wanting to have a conversation. Saoirse, always perceptive, gave Martin a playful smile. "Your little lover?" she teased quietly.
Martin covered the phone's microphone and whispered back, "It's Anya."
Saoirse nodded knowingly. "Invite her to join us, if she doesn't mind. I'm fine with it."
Martin spoke a few more words into the phone, and Anya eagerly agreed. By the time Martin and Saoirse arrived at the hotel, Anya was already waiting for them inside the lobby. Together, the three of them made their way up to the top-floor suite.
Inside, the atmosphere was relaxed, but beneath the surface, the pressure of awards season lingered. With the Oscars drawing near, contenders were still in full swing with their PR campaigns. Martin knew this game well. In Hollywood, while film was celebrated as an art form, it was first and foremost an industry, a business driven by numbers and public relations.
This year, in particular, there seemed to be a shift. The Academy had loosened its standards, perhaps influenced by pressure from diversity advocates and the growing demands of the Black and LGBTQ communities. On top of that, international players, like the Koreans, were spending lavishly to lobby for their films in Los Angeles, hoping to sway votes.
"Film is an art," Martin mused aloud, leaning back against the plush suite sofa. "But without market acceptance, that art withers away."
Saoirse, always eager to listen and learn from him, asked, "So, how do you keep that balance between art and industry?"
Martin chuckled softly, glancing over at Anya, who nodded in agreement with what he was about to say. "There's a universal truth in this industry: you water the flower of art with money. And when you've got enough of it, it'll bloom as brightly as you want."
Both Saoirse and Anya exchanged a look, recognizing the wisdom in his words. In Hollywood, everything came down to navigating the fine line between passion and profitability. And Martin was one of the few who seemed to master both.
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