Chapter 204: Greed and Choice

With Christmas approaching, Duke set the situation with Sophie Marceau aside for the time being. He gave the crew in prep a holiday and flew to New York to spend one of the most important holidays of the year with his mother.

Parties were an inescapable necessity in this country's social life. Before Christmas, Duke accompanied his mother to a few upper-class gatherings in New York. Setting aside his own earnings in the film industry, his mother's net worth had also grown steadily over the past few years. Especially after relocating her company to New York and forging closer ties with the fashion world, she had long since crossed the hundred-million-dollar threshold. Coupled with her already close connections to the community of Jewish descent in New York, she could easily be considered one of the city's elites.

Attending parties was purely a social necessity. On Christmas Eve, just as it had been for the past dozen years, only Duke and his mother were in the dining room at home.

"That commercial you produced aired early."

Mrs. Leah sliced the roast turkey and passed him a plate.

After Duke took it, she asked, "I heard from Aerin that you offered some promotional suggestions?"

"I just mentioned a few things casually," Duke said as he cut his turkey. "Aerin is smart; she's the one who actually executed it."

"The response to the commercial has been quite good." Mrs. Leah sat back in her chair. "When Aerin came to see me last week, she revealed that the Lauder Group really wants to sign you for another commercial."

"I had to refuse."

Swallowing a bite of turkey, Duke shook his head. "It's awards season right now. I have to cooperate with the studios' plans and prepare for the new film. I just can't spare the time."

Shooting a commercial was no simple task either. The actual filming might only take a few days, but pre-production often required weeks.

In truth, he had spoken to Aerin Lauder on the phone after returning to New York. The commercial's release had been pushed forward to capitalize on the hype surrounding Elizabeth Hurley. Because Hugh Grant was universally despised following his prostitution scandal, Elizabeth Hurley had won immense praise for generously forgiving him and bravely facing the public by his side. She had basically been the hottest news topic recently, and the Lauder Group had seized the momentum to launch the commercial, achieving spectacular results.

Aerin Lauder had also mentioned over the phone that Elizabeth Hurley wanted to meet with him to express her deep gratitude, but he had turned her down. Duke wanted absolutely no part of her "special thanks."

The reason was simple: Duke wasn't sure if Elizabeth Hurley had already hooked up with the man in the White House, and he didn't want to invite trouble.

He had once read about a scandal involving Bill Clinton and Elizabeth Hurley. He had forgotten exactly what year it took place, but he still remembered a few details.

Because of his work, one of Elizabeth Hurley's ex-boyfriends had accepted an invitation to visit the White House. While having dinner together, they brought up Elizabeth Hurley, and Clinton bluntly asked him for his ex-girlfriend's phone number.

Rumor had it that Clinton didn't show the slightest reservation; he called Hurley right in front of her ex-boyfriend and directly arranged for a plane to pick her up.

At the time, Hurley was in Los Angeles, right in the middle of dating Hugh Grant. Yet just a few hours later, she arrived at the White House and stayed inside for four whole days.

Later, rumors circulated that the underground romance between Clinton and Elizabeth Hurley lasted for over a year. When Clinton realized he was beginning to fall in love with her, he decided to cut the Gordian knot and avoid getting entangled in a complicated situation, leading to their complete breakup.

Zippergate Clinton's romantic escapades were no fewer than those of any Hollywood director or movie star. In fact, Duke actually quite admired a famous quote attributed to the President that circulated in the media: "I don't discuss love with women rolling around in Vanity Fair. When I find myself starting to fall for you, I'll break up with you."

Dinner proceeded at a very leisurely pace. Duke and his mother chatted as they ate. Perhaps it was because she was genuinely getting older, or perhaps it was because they hadn't seen each other for a long time, but she spoke much more than she used to, showing deep concern for his career and his life.

In Mrs. Leah's eyes, Duke's private life was a total mess, and she couldn't be bothered to nag him about it anymore. Their conversation mostly revolved around work.

"Is there any hope for Best Director and Best Picture?"

With the Oscars approaching, Mrs. Leah hoped Duke would reap a few honors.

"How are your preparations going?" she asked.

"The studios and distributors are handling the specific PR and promotional work."

Although he had studied some cases in the past, reading about them and executing them were two entirely different things. Duke was a complete layman when it came to Oscar PR campaigns; he was merely cooperating with the overarching strategies of Warner and Fox.

"I might get a nomination for Best Director, but there's no hope of winning," he said. "Warner and Fox are focusing their PR efforts on Best Picture. They've done a lot of work capitalizing on the unique climate this year, and I think the chances of winning are extremely high."

During such a time period, if Saving Private Ryan lost Best Picture, the pressure the School would face would undoubtedly be ten or even a hundred times heavier than it had been in the past.

"I've read some analyses as well." Mrs. Leah set down her knife and fork and took a sip of wine from her glass. "The favorite for Best Director is Mel Gibson."

"That's exactly right, Mom."

By this time of year, almost all the award-contending films had been released or given limited screenings. Compared to Braveheart and Saving Private Ryan, the gap with the directors of other works—whether it was Ang Lee for Sense and Sensibility or Mike Figgis for Leaving Las Vegas—was glaringly obvious. And this gap was not something PR could bridge.

Duke shrugged and continued, "Even though William Wallace's cry of 'freedom' came off as very contrived and exaggerated, and many ordinary viewers even found it sickening, he truly caters to the tastes of quite a few voters. Plus, Gibson has the advantage of age. If no accidents happen, there's over a seventy percent chance he takes home the Best Director Golden Statuette."

"Are you saying an accident will happen?"

Mrs. Leah was entirely clear about her own son's temperament. She had also heard about some of the conflicts that had occurred between the two of them, and she absolutely refused to believe that Duke would just sit back and watch the other man win.

"Just ask if you need anything," she offered.

"Not for now, Mom," Duke said, looking extremely confident. "I've already figured out what to do."

With Zack Snyder and Sofia Coppola temporarily in charge of the prep work for Chicago back in Los Angeles, Duke simply gave himself a short vacation. He stayed in New York to accompany his mother for over a week, meeting with Aerin Lauder once during that time. It wasn't until the footsteps of 1996 stepped into the world that Duke finally returned to Los Angeles.

Prepping Chicago, writing the new script, and occasionally cooperating with the studios to attend a few events—these comprised Duke's work for the first half of January. As time went on, the films and individuals likely to receive Oscar nominations became increasingly obvious. Even though film critics like Roger Ebert privately spared no effort in using their influence to lobby voters against choosing Saving Private Ryan, the general trend of the year prevailed. Just like the highly touted Braveheart, Saving Private Ryan was simultaneously considered a surefire winner on the Oscar nominations list.

In the face of the overarching social climate, one could easily imagine how difficult it would be for a group totaling no more than a few hundred people to try and go against the tide.

The majority of film critics weren't stupid either. At the very least, they hadn't publicly attacked Saving Private Ryan as unsuitable for awards in their columns. Their target was Duke himself; it wasn't just about the Oscar, they wanted to stop Duke from winning Best Director at any awards ceremony.

At a series of precursor awards that had already been announced—such as the New York Film Critics Association Awards, the Chicago Film Critics Association Awards, and the Los Angeles Film Critics Association Awards—Mel Gibson had easily defeated Duke to take home Best Director, while Saving Private Ryan only managed to snag Best Picture.

At the extremely important Screen Actors Guild Awards, Directors Association Awards, and Producers Alliance Awards that followed—which served as stronger bellwethers than any other accolades—Mel Gibson once again secured Best Director, while Saving Private Ryan defeated Braveheart in the film categories.

The situation seemed to have become clear, and the curtain was about to rise on the annual Golden Globe Awards.

"Are you sure, Sophie?"

Inside the black Bentley, Duke was on the phone. "I need absolutely reliable information."

"Mel Gibson will attend the Golden Globe Awards, and as long as he wins, he'll be at the celebration party afterward."

The voice coming through the phone seemed to tremble slightly. "I guarantee it! He even met with me yesterday and urged me to make a move against you before the Oscar nominees luncheon."

"Thanks for the information."

Hanging up, Duke started the car and drove toward the café where he had agreed to meet Tom Cruise.

Half an hour later, he was the first to walk into an extremely quiet café in Malibu. He claimed a booth in the corner and waited for about ten minutes before Tom Cruise entered the café alone. Seeing Duke wave, he immediately walked over.

"Tom..." Duke looked at the leading man who was about to star in his movie. "The opportunity is here."

"I can't wait anymore!"

The two had already spoken about this beforehand.

Tom Cruise lightly pounded his fist against the coffee table. "I have to return the insults Mel Gibson heaped on me!"

He didn't like the man sitting across from him, but right now, he disliked that Australian savage even more.

"I heard you accepted the invitation to the Golden Globe Awards as well?"

Seeing Cruise nod, Duke said, "Gibson will be attending the celebration party after the Golden Globe Awards. Will you go?"

Tom Cruise blanked for a second, then nodded. "Of course I'll go. I want to see Gibson's pathetic face after he loses at the Golden Globe Awards."

"If nothing unexpected happens, Tom," Duke shook his head, "Mel Gibson is going to take Best Director."

"He's taking Best Director at the Golden Globe Awards?" Cruise was confused. "Then he'll sweep the precursor awards. The bastard is going to win the Best Director Golden Statuette."

"Tom, he's our mutual enemy."

"Exactly!"

He could tolerate other things, but Cruise could not stomach Nicole Kidman and Mel Gibson staying in the same hotel for a long period of time. This had long since become a thorn in his side. As a member of Hollywood, it didn't take a genius to figure out exactly what that meant.

"So, what are we going to do?" Tom Cruise asked.

"What you need to do is very simple."

Naturally, Duke wouldn't be foolish enough to lay out his entire plan. He simply gave a few brief instructions in a low voice.