Chapter 226: The Aura of a Nouveau Riche

"You know, all my life, I've only ever wanted my own act."

Standing on the mirror-smooth stage, Naomi Watts had finally shed her ugly prison uniform for a sexy, tight dance dress, showing off her exquisite curves to the camera. Beautiful, proud, and utterly arrogant, she looked exactly like a top-tier Hollywood star. Perhaps, after years of relentless struggle, this was a true reflection of her inner self.

"But things didn't go as planned," she said, wagging a finger. "I could never get what I wanted. The world is so big, yet I hit a wall at every turn. Then Amos came along. Safe, reliable, cute Amos..."

Duke took his eyes off the monitor and looked at Naomi Watts. If you stripped away Roxie's overwhelmingly negative traits—like her vulgarity and malice—the character shared common ground with Naomi's own experiences. Both wanted to find a stage of their own, searching bitterly yet unable to grasp it.

Perhaps this was exactly what caused a clear deviation in her grasp of the character during this scene, making her portray Roxie as a radiant star.

"Cut!"

There was absolutely no need to continue the take. The moment Duke called cut, the music and Naomi's monologue stopped. He called out to the stage, "Nami, come here."

Naomi Watts quickly walked over, looked at Duke, and asked, "Did I make a mistake again?"

The past three-plus months of filming had been a nightmare. Not only did she face immense psychological pressure, but the physical drain on her stamina had been massive. This was especially true for the musical numbers—which of those hadn't ended with bloody blisters on her feet?

But at the same time, she had reaped enormous rewards. The young director's strict demands, his tireless scene breakdowns, and the guidance he provided had noticeably improved her acting. She even felt she could take on the most demanding dramatic roles in the future.

Effort and reward—it was the perfect description of the past hundred-odd days.

Turning off the monitor, Duke looked back at her and asked, "Nami, what kind of character is Roxie?"

"Petite and beautiful, harboring a dream of singing and dancing," Naomi Watts answered immediately. "She's also ignorant, malicious, vain, and ruthless. A morally bankrupt woman, like a poisonous snake."

Duke rapped his knuckles hard against his armrest with a heavy thud. "And what did you think of your performance just now?" he asked. "Did you look like a vulgar, malicious woman mocking her kind husband? Or did you look like a radiant star?"

Lowering her head, Naomi Watts fell into thought.

This was the final scene, and Duke didn't want to drag it out any longer. He got straight to the point. "Your performance just now was very charming and attractive, but a woman's appeal comes in different types and tiers. Roxie looks down on her husband, even using their sex life to mock him. This is your solo act, but it's happening in Roxie's imagination. You need to talk to, laugh with, please, and even tease an audience that doesn't actually exist—the audience in Roxie's fantasy."

Picking up his coffee cup for a sip, Duke added, "This is nothing but a daydream for Roxie. What she displays is the lowest, most vulgar kind of feminine appeal. You can look at it like this: she's just being a cheap tease."

"Duke," Naomi said, casting a complicated look in his direction. "I know what to do now."

Duke waved her off. "Go take a break. We'll start again in ten minutes."

The brief rest period ended. With everything ready, filming kicked off once again. Perhaps Duke's pointers had done the trick, because Naomi Watts's performance was suddenly striking.

The monologue she recited in time with the music was highly engaging, radiating sheer disdain for the person she was describing. She danced with lazy confidence, but paired with that bright silver, short dance dress, she appeared exceptionally vulgar. Twisting her supple waist, her face brimmed with amorous charm. She was beautiful and mesmerizing, looking exactly like a cheap exotic dancer. No matter how you looked at it, she was no longer the star Roxie dreamed of becoming.

After a brief vocal segment, the backup dancers took the stage, using a group number to elevate Roxie as the female lead. She stood in the middle, as if she had truly become the center of Chicago.

Finally, Naomi Watts walked over to the red "Roxie" sign. The coquettish poses she struck made her look like a window girl fresh out of the red-light district.

"Great!" Duke let out a long breath. "We got it!"

As his voice rang out, a chorus of relieved sighs echoed through the soundstage. Over 110 days of filming had nearly driven the entire crew to the brink of a breakdown.

To say nothing of the others, Duke himself was physically and mentally exhausted. The time and energy he had poured into Chicago surpassed even what he had spent on Speed.

Eighty percent of the reason for this boiled down to his lack of professional musical and dance expertise.

Turning off the monitor, Duke clapped his hands. The crisp sound drew everyone's attention before he spoke. "This has been an unusual journey and a completely new experience for our team. I know everyone is exhausted and looking forward to a vacation, but it isn't time to relax just yet."

He chuckled. "I've already spoken with Johnny Depp. Tomorrow night, there will be a massive party at his Viper Room Bar. You all know what to expect there."

The crew's weary faces instantly perked up. Some of the younger members even erupted into cheers. Depp's bar had always been a party hotspot in Hollywood; it lacked neither beautiful women nor handsome men.

The soundstage gradually quieted down as everyone busied themselves with their tasks. Duke was inspecting the film shot that day when Naomi Watts, having removed her makeup, walked over, greeted Tina Fey, and stopped in front of him.

"Thank you, Duke." She looked at him, her gaze incredibly complicated. "Thank you for giving me this opportunity."

"Nami, this is the result of your own hard work."

Duke had long since lost any intention of continuing their relationship. He patted her lightly on the shoulder. "Remember what I told you? Fix your eyes on your goal and don't hesitate. Keep working hard. Who knows? The next time we work together, you might already be a top-tier star."

Their temporary fling had ended completely over a year ago. Duke had already fully repaid the favor he owed her from the fire.

Duke knew this, and so did Naomi Watts. Their initial coming together had mostly stemmed from their own basic needs.

Naomi Watts turned and walked away. Duke watched her retreating back, feeling neither regret nor nostalgia. This was Hollywood, where romantic relationships ended every second of the day. This was North America, a country fiercely pursuing personal freedom. No woman walking the path to success was willing to serve merely as a man's plaything.

Furthermore, Duke didn't suffer from the arrogant mindset of thinking that whatever he did would naturally succeed—or that all the people, wealth, and objects of the past, present, or future, whether seen or unseen, cast aside or freshly encountered, absolutely had to belong to him.

Duke had never considered himself the center of the world, or even the center of Hollywood. Everything Sophie Marceau had done had also taught him that the women stepping into this industry had no desire to be mere appendages.

Theirs had been a very simple relationship to begin with. It started simply, and ended just as simply.

"What are you thinking about?"

A familiar voice rang out beside him. Catherine Zeta-Jones stopped behind him and asked, "Still thinking about the movie?"

Turning his head, Duke looked at Zeta-Jones and said, "Filming is done. It's time to ramp up the promotional efforts."

...

Starting from Battery Park in the south and running straight north through Manhattan Island, Broadway was a vital cradle for American drama and musicals due to the vast number of theaters lining both sides of the street. Because of this, "Broadway" had become synonymous with musical theater itself.

As night fell, the heart of Broadway on 42nd Street was brightly lit. Although musicals no longer boasted their former glory, they still managed to draw massive crowds. This was especially true during the current theater season. Having undergone over a year of restructuring, the veteran classic production Chicago had returned to Broadway, prompting many nostalgic theatergoers to step inside.

Situated near the famous Times Square, 42nd Street was surrounded by dozens of theaters. Its middle section served as the commercial theatrical entertainment center of the entire country. The giant billboards erected here had always been reserved exclusively for hit musicals.

One particular billboard stood diagonally across from the theater hosting the musical Chicago. The name 'Chicago' on it was exceptionally eye-catching. Combined with its exaggerated colors and gorgeous design, everyone passing by couldn't help but take a few extra glances.

After all, with an advertisement for the film version of Chicago erected right in front of the theater showing the musical version of Chicago, it would be hard for people not to notice.

The three male and female leads on the billboard were particularly striking. Tom Cruise stood in the center, dressed in a sharp, vintage suit, flanked by two gorgeous women in starkly contrasting black and white short dance dresses. From a purely visual standpoint, they completely blew the musical's cast out of the water.

Although neither films nor musicals used physical beauty as their sole standard, no one could deny that the pairing of a handsome man and beautiful women was exceptionally captivating.

There was no need to worry about nostalgic audiences taking issue with this. For the advertisement to be designed this way, the distributor, Warner Brothers, had conducted a massive amount of targeted research. Moreover, the boundaries pushed by the musical Chicago were much further than those of the film version. It was filled with provocative scenes, and the female actors' dance dresses were as short as they could possibly be, using the absolute minimum amount of fabric.

Of course, to put it elegantly, this was all for the sake of art. But in reality, everyone knew exactly why the theater troupe had done it.

And it wasn't just this one billboard. Broadway, the West End of London, and any other location staging large-scale revivals of the musical all featured similar film billboards that would remain for the entire theater season. The film version was directly piggybacking off the musical version for publicity.

"The same brilliance, a different Chicago!"

This was the primary promotional slogan during the film's early stages, and the film's North American release date had been targeted specifically for the highly lucrative Thanksgiving and Christmas window.