Chapter 493: Aerial Combat Project

"The winner for Best Motion Picture - Drama is..."

On stage, Keanu Reeves opened the envelope and glanced at the card. A look of absolute disbelief washed over his face, as if he couldn't comprehend the result. He took a full two seconds to compose himself before slowly reading it out. "The winner of the 61st Golden Globe Award for Best Motion Picture - Drama is... Cold Mountain!"

The atmosphere inside the Hilton Grand Hotel's banquet hall froze for a moment. A smattering of isolated applause broke the silence from one corner; Duke glanced over to see a few film critics sitting there.

Regardless, the applause was bound to follow. The ceremony was being broadcast live nationwide, and no matter how unexpected the result, the organizers had planted enough people in the audience to ensure the clapping would never sound sparse.

Gradually, everyone else joined in. The shock only lasted a brief moment. After all, the shady backstage dealings of the Golden Globe Awards were an open secret—not just to industry insiders like them, but to the general public as well.

If it didn't pull crazy stunts and stir up controversy, would it even be the Golden Globes?

Sitting at his banquet table, Duke clapped politely. The Golden Globe Best Director Award he had just won moments earlier sat right in front of him. The Golden Globes' intention of dividing the spoils was far more blatant than the Oscars'. With fewer than a hundred voters, the awards inevitably had to cater to the interests and demands of all parties involved.

"I didn't expect it to be Cold Mountain."

To Duke's left, Nancy Josephson couldn't help but look toward another table where Harvey Weinstein of Miramax Pictures was sitting. "Duke, we focused all our attention on Master and Commander and somewhat overlooked their double-insurance strategy."

"It doesn't matter," Duke said, shaking his head dismissively. "Nancy, it's just the Golden Globes."

He didn't know when it started, but a rumor had spread around the world that the Golden Globe Awards were the best bellwether for the Oscars. Duke, having been in Hollywood for over a decade, knew full well that this claim was completely unreliable. The Golden Globe voters and the Oscar voters—the members of the Film Academy—had absolutely no overlap. To borrow a line from a certain comedian, Academy members wouldn't deign to become Golden Globe voters anyway, because their reputation was just too terrible.

Compared to the Golden Globes, which had almost nothing to do with the Oscars, the Producers Alliance awards, the Directors Association awards, and the Screen Actors Guild awards were the true bellwethers. The reason was simple: the voters for these Hollywood industry guild awards were largely members of the Film Academy.

Guild awards aside, a look through Oscar history made it easy to see that even the top three film critics' association awards held more sway over the Oscars than the Golden Globes ever did.

Duke hadn't expended any energy on the Golden Globes at all. Winning the Best Director Award actually came as a bit of a surprise to him.

Just as he had predicted, his and Return of the King's main awards season competitor came from Miramax Pictures. To secure the heavyweight Oscar categories, the Weinstein Brothers had deployed a double-insurance strategy using Cold Mountain and Master and Commander.

After the ceremony ended, Duke skipped the subsequent celebration party and left the Hilton Grand Hotel directly.

As time crept toward February, the announcement of the Oscar nominations drew closer. The global box office for Return of the King steadily surpassed the 1.55 billion dollar mark. For the upcoming Oscars, this was both an advantage and a disadvantage.

When a blockbuster's commercial success exploded to a certain level, many voters found it impossible to ignore. However, Return of the King wasn't a commercial film based on real events like Titanic, so it inevitably suffered from an inherent disadvantage.

Film critics in particular were publishing review after review in their columns, constantly reminding the Oscar voters of this. Veteran critics like Roger Ebert were even leveraging the networks they had cultivated over the years, frequently visiting the homes and gatherings of senior Academy members in an effort to influence as many people as possible.

"The fact that Return of the King even received an Oscar nomination is already the greatest praise it could get," Roger Ebert said with a resolute expression.

Inside an office, he looked at the fifty-something woman sitting across from him. "Cheryl, Return of the King is a purely non-realistic commercial film. Shouldn't the Academy uphold artistic rigor? The Oscars have always been the last line of defense for Hollywood's art films. Do you really want to see this final stronghold overrun by commerce?"

"No one wants to see a commercial film become the big winner at the Oscars," Cheryl Isaacs said slowly. "Roger, I understand what you mean."

Roger Ebert looked at the woman. She wasn't particularly famous nationwide, but she was a massive name in Hollywood. When it came to the Oscars in particular, as an executive committee member, she could easily sway the choices of many voters. It wasn't easy for actors and directors to get her to intervene, though. She was most famous for her "stamp collecting" hobby.

Right before the Oscars rolled around every year, men looking to make their mark on the awards would invariably show up at her door on their own initiative.

In fact, in Roger Ebert's estimation, the sheer number of male Hollywood stars she had toyed with likely ranked among the highest in the entire industry.

Cheryl Isaacs was not easily moved, and Roger Ebert knew he lacked the physical charm to do so. However, they shared decades of friendship. Moreover, back in 1995, she had sent out certain signals to Duke Rosenberg through various channels, only to be rejected by the young director without a second thought.

As someone who loved collecting celebrities, Cheryl Isaacs certainly wouldn't want to see Duke Rosenberg emerge as the winner either.

It wasn't just Roger Ebert. Many renowned film critics like David Denby and Todd McCarthy were running all over Los Angeles, frequently meeting with Academy members. They were pouring every ounce of their energy into stopping the person they disliked most from becoming the big Oscar winner.

With the attacks from the professional film critic community on the outside and the competition from Miramax Pictures on the inside, Duke was absolutely certain that the situation he faced was far more difficult than Peter Jackson's once was. It wasn't entirely impossible for Return of the King to suffer a crushing defeat at the Oscars.

The conflict that had been brewing between him and the film critics since Independence Day had finally reached its ultimate boiling point.

But Duke had never regretted a thing. If he had a chance to do it all over again, he would still step up during the Independence Day release, fight back to generate headline news, and protect the film profits he absolutely could not abandon.

Of course, Duke's enemies went far beyond just the professional film critics.

However, another group currently had no time to worry about Duke and the Oscars. They had a much more important project in motion.

"A film critic propped up by the media actually thinks he's the god of the film industry," Michael Ovitz said.

Inside the spacious office, a heavy look of disdain hung on his face. "Roger Ebert is too arrogant. Does he still think it's the eighties or nineties?"

"Are we..." Martin Bob said, rather unwillingly, "...just going to watch him become the Oscar Best Director?"

He then turned to the young man in the room. "David, do you want to see Duke Rosenberg become the big Oscar winner?"

David Ellison answered without a moment's hesitation, "Of course not! If someone rejected your extended hand of friendship and cooperation several times in a row, would you like him?"

Even though his initial proposal had been rejected, he still held out a certain amount of hope. While discussing cooperation with the Artists Management Company, he hadn't given up on contacting Duke Studio either. The results, however, were extremely disappointing. No matter what form of partnership he proposed, the only response he ever received was a flat refusal.

For a golden child who had gotten whatever he wanted since he was little, this had already wounded his pride and bruised his ego.

Perhaps the old foxes of Hollywood wouldn't take this seriously, but a hot-blooded man in his early twenties, backed by wealth and power, simply couldn't swallow the insult.

David Ellison had no intention of just laughing it off.

"Michael, are we really going to do nothing?" he asked, looking at Ovitz. The arrogance and conceit in his expression looked exactly like his father's. "We're just going to sit here and watch Duke Rosenberg take the Golden Statuette?"

"You don't understand the actual situation, David," Michael Ovitz said, remaining steady. "Even if we make a few moves, it would be difficult to stop Duke Rosenberg. The Academy doesn't belong to anyone. It's not owned by Harvey Weinstein, nor is it the puppet of professional film critics..."

He paused for a moment and sighed before continuing, "Duke Rosenberg really isn't the type of director the Academy likes, but his trilogy has accumulated far too much momentum. No matter how aloof the Academy acts or how much shady business they pull, they still have to maintain a basic semblance of fairness and justice. Even though that fairness and justice is extremely limited, it's enough to..."

He shrugged and left the thought unfinished, pivoting to another angle instead. "Even if we make Duke Rosenberg lose the Golden Statuette, would it actually have any substantial impact on him?"

Martin Bob and David Ellison sat there, falling deep into thought.

Michael Ovitz didn't make them wait long before providing the answer himself. "Even if he loses the Oscar, the impact on Duke Rosenberg would be negligible. His foundation is commerce. Commercial films are his bedrock. As long as his films continue to maintain high returns, his status in Hollywood will keep climbing—climbing so high that everyone else will only be able to look up in awe!"

"Then we'll target his commercial films and destroy the foundation he built his Hollywood career on!" David Ellison declared with absolute confidence.

"I received some news," Michael Ovitz suddenly chuckled. "Duke and Warner are planning to reboot the Batman Series. How difficult will it be for that franchise to rise from the ashes? I'm sure you both know very well."

"You mean..." David Ellison caught on immediately, "...our project is going to target the new Batman?"

"Exactly!" A sharp light gleamed in Michael Ovitz's eyes. "Batman is our best opportunity. The reputation of this franchise has already been driven into the ground. It won't be so easy for Duke Rosenberg to turn it around all on his own."

"And as for our aerial combat project..."

David Ellison laughed. It was as if he had already transformed into a Flyboy, shooting that giant bat straight out of the sky.