Chapter 502: Sleepless Tonight

The past ten minutes had been excruciating for Roger Ebert, and he didn't know how he had survived them. It took nearly every ounce of his strength to suppress the urge to leap over and smash the large screen across from him, forcing himself to sit calmly in front of the live camera.

But he had stopped speaking entirely, leaving his partner, Roeper, to talk on his own.

Roeper was a highly competent host, constantly throwing out hooks to pique the audience's interest and keep them glued to the awards ceremony.

Viewership numbers directly correlated with the advertising revenue the ABC Television Network could charge for the next Oscar Awards Ceremony.

Roger Ebert seemed a bit off beside him, but Roeper had neither the time nor the energy to worry about it. Inside the Kodak Theater, Duke Rosenberg was far more important and directly tied to his own livelihood.

"Just as everyone predicted, Duke Rosenberg winning Best Director at this year's Oscars is completely well-deserved. You could even call it a return of the king..."

Hearing his partner's endless praise, Roger Ebert fought a strong urge to take off his shoe and shove it into the man's mouth.

Fortunately, Roeper only spoke a few more sentences before stopping, because the presentation for Best Picture was about to begin!

"Ladies and gentlemen, please welcome Steven Spielberg."

Billy Crystal retreated to the corner of the stage, and Spielberg quickly stepped up to the microphone. The Jewish old man would be presenting Best Picture!

"People always say there's a reason Best Picture is saved for last. It is the culmination of every element of film, and the end of a journey always begins with a dream..."

He didn't seem to want to keep anyone waiting, speaking at a brisk pace.

"This year, those dreams were sparked by The Lord of the Rings Trilogy, adapted from the novels of Tolkien, and by the spectacular adaptation of Aubrey and Maturin's novels..."

He wrapped up his transition in a few brief words, then moved on to the introductions.

"The following are the nominees for Best Picture: Lost in Translation, Ross Katz and Sofia Coppola; Seabiscuit, Katherine Kennedy and Frank Marshall; The Lord of the Rings 3: The Return of the King, Charles Roven and Duke Rosenberg; Mystic River, Clint Eastwood and Robert Lorenz; and Master and Commander, Harvey Weinstein and Duncan Henderson."

Spielberg tore open the envelope. The answer he read aloud carried no surprise whatsoever.

"And the winner is The Lord of the Rings 3: The Return of the King, Charles Roven and Duke Rosenberg!"

Since the live television broadcast had cut to the Kodak Theater, the atmosphere in the ABC studio relaxed slightly. This did not include Roger Ebert. The prominent film critic stared blankly at the large screen across from him, looking very much like a deformed goldfish.

Inside the studio, some people were touching up their makeup while others checked equipment, all preparing for the live commentary following the awards ceremony.

Roger Ebert's face grew redder and redder. The veins on his forehead pulsed rapidly in tight, quick throbs. He could faintly hear the murmurs of discussion around him.

"One Oscar Awards Ceremony, twelve Golden Statuettes. Duke Rosenberg set a record!"

"So many people bet against him before. They have nothing to say now."

Beside him, Roeper was seizing the moment to review his script for the next segment. This was the A-plan for the ABC Television Network's live broadcast, meaning even the network had believed Duke Rosenberg and Return of the King would sweep the awards ceremony.

"The King arrives at the Oscars, Duke Rosenberg's twelve-year path to apotheosis..."

Hearing Roeper reading in a low voice, a thought suddenly struck Roger Ebert. 'They're all traitors! The whole world has betrayed me!'

'The ABC Television Network, the Academy of Motion Picture Arts and Sciences, the media, and the public. They are all a bunch of shameful traitors!'

The fury Roger Ebert had forcibly suppressed erupted all at once. The veteran film critic's face flushed as if he were drunk, so red it looked like it might drip blood.

The next moment, a drunken dizziness washed over Roger Ebert. The person across from him suddenly split into two, their figure growing increasingly blurry. Even though they were no more than four feet away, he couldn't make out their face...

At the same time, a strange sound echoed inside Roger Ebert's head, as if something had snapped. His blurred vision abruptly faded to black, and his entire body slumped to the side.

"Mr. Ebert!"

That was the last thing Roger Ebert heard that night.

"Quick, call a doctor! Call an ambulance!"

Inside the Kodak Theater, Duke stepped back onto the stage. He looked toward where the Lord of the Rings Crew was seated, waving repeatedly to signal the team members to come up. Charles Roven stood up and did the same.

According to Oscar rules, a production could only have two producers represent the crew to accept the award. However, Best Picture didn't just reward the director or a specific producer—it honored everyone involved in the film's creation!

It was inherently a team award!

Why was this award always the grand finale? Because a film was never the result of one person's effort; it was the fruit cultivated by the combined labor of a massive team!

Charles Roven, Anna Printz, Hannah Serena, John Schwartzman, Mike Dawson, Elijah Wood, Viggo Mortensen, Orlando Bloom, Billy Boyd, and Ian McKellen—more than a dozen crew members all stepped onto the stage to receive the award!

Although the film hadn't won any acting awards, or even received a single acting nomination, this was the glory they all deserved!

Throughout the filming process, every single person had contributed to the success of this trilogy!

Spielberg handed the two Golden Statuettes representing Best Picture to Duke and Charles Roven.

Duke simply said, "Thank you to everyone," and yielded the spot to Charles Roven.

"It is a great honor to stand here. I entered this industry thirty-five years ago, starting out by bringing coffee to directors."

The veteran producer wasn't lacking in a sense of humor. He deliberately glanced at Duke, then turned toward the host for the night.

"I think it was my date with Billy Crystal's cousin many years ago that led to me winning this award today..."

Roars of laughter erupted in the theater. Charles Roven clearly knew how to liven up the atmosphere much better than Duke, who basically lacked a funny bone.

On the side, Billy Crystal played along perfectly, shrugging his shoulders and spreading his hands in a look of complete innocence.

Once the laughter subsided, Charles Roven continued.

"I'm thrilled to work with such a brilliant team. I am very happy to collaborate with an outstanding director like Duke, to be nominated alongside four other incredible films, and to finally win an award after all these years. It is a wonderful surprise for all of us."

"For this film, I want to thank all the actors in front of the camera and the crew behind it. I want to give special thanks to my partners at Warner Brothers and Duke Studio. My beautiful daughter Danielle and my eighty-seven-year-old father are waiting backstage to celebrate with us. I want to thank Tolkien and the fans who supported us, as well as Doug Walter and Jeff Robinov; their efforts made it possible for us to shoot this film."

He turned to look at Duke.

"Finally, it comes back to Director Duke Rosenberg. He is never satisfied with a hundred percent; he is always striving for a hundred and ten percent. He inspires us all, doing his utmost to make these films and bring them to the silver screen!"

The awards ceremony reached its conclusion. The doors to the backstage area opened wide, and all the winners who had received a Golden Statuette that night walked onto the stage. The 76th Academy Awards ceremony drew to a close.

The ceremony had ended, but for winners like Duke, the Oscars were far from over. From the moment he left the backstage area, he became the target of a media and journalist blockade. His individual spotlight even eclipsed that of Sean Penn and Charlize Theron combined.

Duke knew very well that he couldn't blame these reporters for being so excited. In the past, Best Director and Best Picture winners often faced an awkward problem: they had indeed won the awards, but the actual influence of their winning works wasn't very significant.

The Lord of the Rings Trilogy was different. The combined global box office for The Fellowship of the Ring, The Two Towers, and Return of the King had exceeded four billion dollars. Not only had they achieved a sweeping victory at the Oscars, but they had also set a record by winning twelve Golden Statuettes.

How could the man who single-handedly forged this miracle not be highly sought after by the media?

Setting aside the relatively slower traditional media, related discussions on the internet had already exploded the moment the awards ceremony ended.

Norman Miller turned off his TV and focused all his attention on the internet. Using his Instant Sharing account, he quickly typed out a sentence.

"Magnificent! A magnificent victory! Congratulations to Duke, and congratulations to The Lord of the Rings Trilogy!"

Afterward, he went to the homepage of the Instant Sharing website, which was practically flooded with comments related to the Oscars.

"A twelve-year wait, and Duke has achieved his greatest victory!"

"This is a monumental feat comparable to Titanic and James Cameron!"

"Twelve nominations, twelve Golden Statuettes, a one hundred percent win rate—who else could do this besides our Duke Rosenberg?"

"Celebrate, guys! Let's celebrate our Lord of the Rings and raise a glass to our beloved Duke! Sleepless tonight, we won't stop until we're drunk! No one will sleep tonight!"

Turning off his computer, Norman Miller threw on a coat and hurried to the nearest movie-themed bar. He was going to join the revelry until dawn!

For many people, this was indeed a sleepless night.

The doors to the emergency room at the University of California School of Medicine were pushed open. A doctor strode out, and Roger Ebert's agent hurriedly rushed over to meet him.

"Mr. Ebert is out of danger."

Hearing this, the agent breathed a sigh of relief, but the doctor continued.

"Given Mr. Ebert's physical condition, I personally recommend that he refrain from working in the short term. It would be best to..."

He hesitated slightly before continuing.

"It would be best for him to retire, find a quiet place, keep his emotions stable, and undergo a long period of bed rest and recuperation."