Chapter 126: War of Public Opinion

Outside Santa Monica Commercial Square, a group of twenty-somethings walked toward the movie theater. One of them, holding a copy of the Los Angeles Times, was reading the entertainment section's front-page interview to his companions in a Q&A format.

"How do you view the critics' attacks on Independence Day?"

"If you look at the history of the film industry over the past twenty years, you'll find that critics always like attacking the movies the public enjoys just to show how unique they are. They love to attack people who achieve massive success in film. Whatever."

"So, Duke, you don't care about the critics' attacks?"

"Why should I care? Miss Sarah, let me ask you a question. Roughly how many professional film critics are there in North America?"

"Around three hundred."

"And what about fans who regularly go to the movies?"

"There have to be forty or fifty million, if not more."

"Then the question is very simple. As a director, should I prioritize the viewing experience of tens of millions of people, or a few hundred critics? As far as I know, the critics' composite score for Independence Day is only 3.1, while the audience approval rating is as high as 86 percent. That rating comes from 100,000 ordinary moviegoers who participated in the survey. Who should I value more?"

"So, you don't accept the critics' attacks?"

"Why should I accept them? Critics only represent themselves. Can they represent the audience? Their tastes always run contrary to the public's, so why should I care about their attacks? In this world, the foundation of the film industry is its massive ordinary audience, not a group of professional critics who spend all day attacking others with vicious language! Without the audience, this industry would inevitably collapse. Without professional critics, it would still move forward, perhaps even faster!"

Nearing the theater, the young man finished his vivid read-through, tucked the newspaper into his bag, and looked at his companions.

"I think Duke makes a lot of sense," he said. "The audience is the foundation of the film industry. Without us, could it even survive?"

"Yeah!" someone chimed in. "You can tell he's a director who actually cares about the audience's experience, not one of those critic darlings who always shoots baffling, inexplicable nonsense."

"Who's more important, the critics or the audience?" another added.

"The audience, of course!" they answered in unison.

"I actually had some reservations after watching Roger Ebert's show last night," the first young man said. "I thought Independence Day was truly a terrible movie. Now I realize it's only terrible to the critics. If the audience rating is that high, why didn't the critics mention it? Were they afraid of embarrassing themselves?"

"Haven't you heard the saying?" the person next to him said secretively. "The movies critics universally praise are the ones audiences fall asleep to. The movies critics violently attack are the massive hits!"

Though an exaggeration, the statement earned nods of agreement from quite a few of them. The group threw last night's TV program completely out of their minds and walked into the theater to buy tickets, aiming squarely for Independence Day!

Similar scenes were playing out across North America. Young people seemed completely unaffected by last night's broadcast and the overwhelming wave of ongoing attacks from media critics, walking into theaters to buy tickets for Independence Day just the same.

However, some fallout was inevitable. Among moviegoers in their forties and fifties who had lived through the golden age of film critics, quite a few who originally planned to see Independence Day ended up choosing other movies.

Competition in the summer season was exceptionally fierce, and far too many factors influenced audience choices. A quiet, peaceful release environment was something that might never happen—perhaps not even on the day the entire film industry collapsed.

After two consecutive days of explosive screenings with daily box office earnings exceeding 20 million, the attendance rate for Independence Day noticeably declined on Sunday. This was an inescapable rule for commercial films.

"Duke, there's an invitation."

Just as he walked into Independence Day Studio, Sofia Coppola came over to greet him. "Jeff Robinov called. Time Magazine wants to do an exclusive interview with you."

"Oh, that's good news."

Walking into the office with Sofia, Duke sat down behind his desk. "Isn't that the kind of treatment reserved for superstars?"

Sofia ignored Duke's self-deprecating joke, simply shrugging as she sat across from him.

"This is going to be a major interview," Sofia Coppola said, flipping through her work log. "Time Warner wants the interview to involve your friends and colleagues as well."

"Their reaction is really fast." Duke immediately understood Warner's intentions. "They want to blow up this public opinion war between the critics and me? Manufacture a hot topic and leverage moviegoers' curiosity to get them into theaters?"

"Nancy thinks so too." Sofia nodded.

Resting his left hand on the desk, Duke propped up his chin and asked, "What's Nancy's opinion?"

"If you want Independence Day to earn more at the box office and maximize profits, accept the invitation and completely detonate this war."

Sitting across from him, Sofia merely repeated Nancy Josephson's words in a monotone voice so as not to influence Duke's judgment. "If you highly value the school faction's awards, reject it and keep a low profile while Independence Day is in theaters. Even if Roger Ebert and the others attack you to your face, you have to endure it."

Where did film critics have the deepest impact on the film industry? Everyone in the industry knew very well: it was the school faction's awards.

Perhaps other directors would be exceptionally cautious about this kind of issue, but for Duke, it wasn't a difficult problem at all. He wouldn't give up easily obtainable practical benefits for a few trophies. If the critics could bring him enough profit, he wouldn't mind compromising. But right now, they were infringing on his interests and would continue to do so, which made them his enemies!

It wasn't hard to weigh his options; he only needed to look at which one better suited his interests.

"Notify Nancy," Duke said lightly. "Accept Time Warner's invitation."

The war had actually started long ago. Evading it was absolutely not the best solution, and Duke wouldn't try. Sometimes, you just had to face difficulties head-on!

Of course, he didn't overlook the fact that someone else's shadow was definitely lurking behind the critics.

"Are you sure?" Sofia frowned slightly, seeming a little worried.

"Sofia..." Duke suddenly smiled. "Don't overestimate them. I'll help you get your revenge!"

Sofia Coppola rolled her eyes and offered a helpless smile. It felt as if the critics' vicious abuse of The Godfather 3 had happened just yesterday.

As the evening lights came on, Burbank grew even livelier, fully displaying the prosperity of the media capital of the world. Following his mother's instructions from that morning, Duke picked up Scarlett from the Andrew Acting School and dropped her off at her home along the way.

"Bye, Duke!"

Carrying a large backpack, Scarlett lowered her head and got out of the car, walking toward her front door. She looked extremely reluctant to go in, as if a terrifying monster lurked inside that house.

She looked incredibly pitiful, as if she had been abandoned, but unfortunately for her, Duke was well aware of her acting skills and wasn't fooled in the slightest.

Pushing open the floral gate in front of the lawn, Scarlett glanced back at the Bentley. She lowered her head again and walked toward the home filled with arguments and coldness, looking as deflated as a defeated little chick.

Why didn't she want to go home? Why did she prefer to stay at her godmother's house during the holidays?

Because ever since they moved from New York to Los Angeles, she could no longer feel any family warmth, nor could she feel her father's care for them anymore.

"I'm not some little brat lacking a father's love!"

Muttering to herself, Scarlett pouted and knocked forcefully on the front door.

Through the floral fence, Duke watched Scarlett Johansson walk into the house. Only then did he start the car, turn the steering wheel, and drive back the way they came. After entering Burbank, he didn't return to Santa Monica; instead, he turned toward Nancy Josephson's office. He still had to discuss the specific details of the interview with her this evening.

For any exclusive media interview, the interviewee would do a massive amount of prior preparation, and the side presented to the media was always the most manufactured. Only a fool would expose their true self to the media and the public.

Take Sean Connery, for instance. His gentlemanly image was entirely the result of CAA's meticulous crafting. Now that his true colors had been exposed, his status had plummeted, and he hadn't received any work for over a year.

"Sean, this is an invitation from Mel Gibson."

On Monday morning, Martin Bob, who had been busy with internal competition at CAA, suddenly appeared in Sean Connery's mansion. "Paramount Pictures has greenlit the project. This will be CAA's new packaging project. Although you aren't the lead, it's a heavyweight role..."

Sean Connery sat on the sofa, seemingly in thought. He had just flipped through the character breakdown. It was a rather disgraceful role as a Scottish noble. In the past, he definitely wouldn't have accepted it.

"Mel is directing this movie," Martin Bob said, knowing his client very well. "It's a story about Scottish independence. Haven't you always been devoted to Scotland's independence? You and Mel have common ground on this..."

Listening to his agent, Sean Connery remained silent. He had once sworn that he would never set foot in his homeland again before Scotland achieved independence.

"When does the film start shooting? And roughly when will it be released?" he asked slowly.

"Mel is currently scouting locations. Filming will definitely start before the end of the year," Martin Bob said, inwardly breathing a sigh of relief. Even if Connery was finished, he still needed to squeeze out his final drop of value. "Paramount has accepted CAA's packaging service. The film is tentatively scheduled for release before Memorial Day next year."

Sean Connery slowly nodded. His publicist Jack suddenly pushed the door open and walked in. "We got the first week's data for Independence Day!"

Hearing this, Sean Connery and Martin Bob instantly dropped their previous topic and looked over, exceptionally invested in the news.