[Chapter 194: Hey]
"Eric, didn't Firefly have a movie this year without a distributor?" After chatting about a few other things, Robert Shea unknowingly shifted the conversation back to Firefly Films.
Eric looked around. Finally, they had finished shooting this month and had entered post-production. He had just spotted Al Pacino, but since he was chatting with Robert, Al merely nodded at him from a distance.
Despite seeing several familiar faces who greeted him, he couldn't find the crew, so he quickly directed his attention back to Robert and said, "Yeah, it's just an art film aiming for the Oscars. If we win an award, the box office will surely do well, but if we don't win, it'll be tough. I've seen the rough cut, and Al's performance is stunning, but there's no guarantee Oscars will award based on quality alone; the competition is fierce."
Robert Shea sensed Eric's distrust in his public relations network. "Eric, I admit I don't have the connections of the major studios, but that doesn't mean they'll win any awards. They can leverage their advantages for a few nominations, which may help at the box office and in subsequent video sales. Like last year, you remember how that movie got a slew of nominations but ended up empty-handed? That was Fox's PR work. True awards have to be earned on merit. Publicity is essential, but it doesn't win you everything. Think about it, Eric. If we hand it to a big studio, they'll juggle multiple projects and won't focus solely on our film. I, on the other hand, can dedicate all resources and connections to this movie."
Eric fell into a brief hesitation.
Robert Shea recognized Eric was wavering and quickly added, "Eric, haven't you noticed? This year is a typical 'small Oscars' year."
"Hmm?" Eric looked puzzled. He vaguely remembered something about that but had only a half-hearted understanding.
Robert patiently explained, "Think about it -- last year we had Dustin Hoffman, and there was a series of hot Oscar contenders. The Golden Globes even had a historic moment with three best actress winners. That was a standard 'big Oscars' year. But this year is different; two-thirds of the year has already passed, and I haven't seen a single Oscar contender on the horizon. You might say films will come out at the end of the year, but I've been keeping an eye on things. As far as I can remember, there aren't any major directors or actors set to release new films. So I'm confident this year's Oscars will be a small one. If, as you mentioned, Al Pacino's performance is as exceptional as everyone thinks, then considering he's been nominated for Best Actor multiple times before, the outcome is fairly easy to imagine."
Eric fell into deep thought. He didn't even care that Robert was overlooking the potential for Oscar nominations for him. He knew that, being under twenty and with a conservative film Academy reputation, he wouldn't be winning any awards -- getting a few nominations would be a good outcome.
He was considering Robert Shea's comments about the small Oscars year. As Robert spoke, memories of past Oscars and their ups and downs flooded back. He recalled only one win for Best Actor, but who won the Best Picture remained unknown to him. However, if this was indeed a small Oscars year, there might be a chance to contend for Best Picture.
"Eric?" Robert Shea waited for a response, but seeing Eric lost in thought, he couldn't help but remind him.
Hearing his name snapped Eric back to reality, nearly spilling his wine as he quickly apologized, "Oh, sorry, Robert, I got a little distracted."
Robert Shea asked, "So, what do you think?"
"Hmm?" Eric was momentarily unable to respond after all of Robert's lengthy exposition.
"About distribution?" Robert Shea gently reminded him.
Eric felt conflicted. If this year was indeed a small Oscars year, handing this to one of the seven major studios would be the safer bet.
Before the Weinstein brothers had established themselves as Oscar heavyweights, big studios still held a huge advantage in award campaigning. Yet, as Robert had pointed out, none of the studios would give it their all unless he relinquished most of the profits, but wasn't winning an award about reaping those benefits?
Eric was about to agree when Al Pacino unexpectedly appeared from somewhere, coming his way. It reminded Eric of the promise he had made to Al -- this film was crafted to help him win Best Actor. If he took Robert Shea's advice and let Firefly partner with New Line for distribution, then that would certainly carry some risks in the award campaigning. Though the odds were slim, what if a butterfly effect caused Al to just barely miss another Best Actor nod?
Eric valued his collaboration with Al Pacino. The '90s would be a peak period in Al's career, so maintaining a good working relationship could yield benefits for Firefly in terms of both box office success and potential awards.
With this in mind, he decided to pass the decision onto Al. While it was highly probable that Al would be influenced by Robert's pitch, in the event of an unlikely scenario, he wouldn't likely blame Firefly.
"Robert, regarding this matter, I personally agree," Eric began, but before Robert could show any signs of happiness, he added, "However, since this decision is fresh, and while Al has gained more recognition now, I can't overlook that original promise. So, if you want to retain the distribution rights, you'll need to persuade Al. Oh, look, here he comes."
Eric casually placed his wine glass on a passing waiter's tray and approached Al Pacino. "Al, long time no see."
Al Pacino warmly embraced Eric. "Good to see you, Eric. You look more mature and handsome. You're going to attract all the ladies. Don't forget to leave some for us washed-up guys."
"Ha ha, with your charm, finding women shouldn't be a problem," Eric joked back before introducing, "Al, this is Robert Shea. Robert, this is Al."
"You don't have to introduce us; we already know each other," Al responded, shaking Robert Shea's hand. "Nice to meet you, Robert. I believe working with Eric will be a very wise choice."
Robert Shea smiled slightly, "I hope so too."
"By the way, we were just discussing your project, so you gentlemen carry on. I'll step out for a second," Eric indicated toward a nearby hallway. Al wanted to chat a bit more, but seeing where Eric pointed, he simply nodded.
...
As Eric casually greeted guests, he strolled toward the banquet hall entrance. After walking through the crowd, just as he stepped into the hallway, a petite girl in red collided with him, letting out a gasp as she fell backward. Eric rushed to catch her, holding her close.
"It's you... um, Gab...," Eric instantly recognized her face but couldn't recall her name right away. Although he had inexplicably retained his past life's memories, this body didn't have the talent for names.
"Gabrielle Anwar," the young woman softly replied. Initially pleased to discover it was Eric holding her, her delight faded upon realizing he didn't recognize her, and she was left feeling a bit let down. She pressed her small hands against Eric's chest, momentarily forgetting to ask him to let go.
Then it clicked for Eric -- this was the girl he had encountered during the auditions, who had come alone from England to Los Angeles, and she was also the leading lady from that stunning tango dance in his memory.
A middle-aged man approached, peeking into the hallway, casting a strange glance at the couple. Hearing the noise, Eric turned to see the man instantly recognized him, chuckled awkwardly, then quickly retreated. Eric recognized him as a Firefly employee. Although the reaction seemed a bit exaggerated, he could imagine that seeing the boss in such a compromising position with a woman who wasn't his official partner would warrant that kind of reaction.
"Sorry about earlier, running into you like that, Miss Anwar," Eric said, breaking the awkward moment and gently letting go of the petite actress while subconsciously brushing some hair from her forehead.
"No, it's alright," Gabrielle shook her head, her cheeks slightly flushed from Eric's touch.
However, Gabrielle soon realized, this clueless man offered an apology and was already moving on without her.
With a slight stomp of her foot, she called out, "Hey!"
*****
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