Chapter 518: An Expanse of White

"Christian," the agent said, adjusting his formal suit as he looked across the apartment living room at his client. "It's time to make a decision."

Leaning back in his high-backed chair, Christian Bale slowly tapped his fingers against the table. Beside him sat two scripts of entirely different genres: a cult film and a commercial blockbuster.

"Charles Roven just called me," the agent added. "The production crew can't wait for you indefinitely."

Christian Bale looked at the two scripts, still hesitating.

The first was from a director who barely qualified as B-list. It was a story about magic, and even just reading the script, an incredibly strong personal style shone through.

The second came from one of the top directors in Hollywood, if not the world. It was a new Batman installment, a film drenched in commercial appeal.

Under normal circumstances, he would have chosen the first without a thought; it was exactly the genre he loved.

The problem was that the current situation was anything but normal.

Christian Bale knew exactly what the name Duke Rosenberg meant. Furthermore, this script possessed its own intense personal style. A dark, realistic atmosphere rushed off the page—something no superhero movie had ever achieved.

"I haven't made up my mind yet," Christian Bale said.

The prep and shooting schedules for the two films almost completely overlapped, making it impossible to take both. Besides, playing Batman would require a long period of intense physical training; he wouldn't have the energy for anything else.

While he remained calm, his agent was growing anxious. What agent didn't want A-list or super A-list stars on their roster? Who wanted to spend their whole life managing B- and C-list actors?

"Chris!" the agent said, deadly serious. "The person inviting you is Duke Rosenberg!"

"Ten years ago, you had the chance to change your destiny!" The agent stared intently at Bale. "You almost became the male lead in Titanic! You could have been today's Leonardo DiCaprio! You missed that chance, and we've waited all these years while you spin your wheels in low-budget indie films. Do you really want to languish in this messy circle forever?"

"If your goal is to be Daniel Day-Lewis," he added, "then I have nothing to say."

Christian Bale absolutely did not want to be that kind of actor. The agent knew this very well; otherwise, he would have terminated their contract long ago.

"But this script from the Nolan brothers..." Christian Bale was still hesitating.

The agent stopped beating around the bush. "One is Christopher Nolan, a niche cult-film director. The other is Duke Rosenberg, a mainstream blockbuster director. Even an idiot would know which to choose!"

He stood up, a hint of disappointment flashing across his face. "If you just want to be a minor actor, Chris, I won't say another word."

On one side was an endless slog in the indie circuit; on the other was the very real possibility of boundless fame and fortune. How was he supposed to choose?

It wasn't that Hollywood lacked outliers like Daniel Day-Lewis, but they were incredibly rare. Although Christian Bale's mindset was somewhat unique, he hadn't ultimately broken out of the mold of a standard Hollywood actor. Of the actors who entered this industry, how many were truly just pursuing art?

This was a dream-making machine, and even more than that, a factory for fame and wealth.

Christian Bale slowly closed his eyes. Several names surfaced in his mind: Keanu Reeves, Nicolas Cage, Will Smith, Tom Hanks, Tom Cruise, and more. Without exception, every single one of them had taken a massive leap forward in life and career by working with Duke Rosenberg.

He had started out as a child star. Having worked with Steven Spielberg, he had tasted the thrill of fame—an intoxicating, addictive sensation.

How many years had it been since he last tasted it? Was he truly content to grind away in the indie film scene? The reality was simply that the mainstream commercial industry had no interest in an actor who lacked box-office draw!

"Tomorrow, the Batman crew will officially lock in the audition candidates..."

Hearing his agent's words, Christian Bale finally made his decision. Although he had wavered, hesitated, and second-guessed himself, choosing between Christopher Nolan and Duke Rosenberg wasn't actually that difficult, was it?

"I'll go to the audition for Bruce Wayne."

Actors desperate to audition for Batman could be found everywhere in Hollywood. This was a society that worshipped winners, and Hollywood was an industry built on that very worship. Countless companies and actors would rather attach themselves to a successful person's terrible project than waste half a minute on a highly creative endeavor helmed by a newcomer.

Because Duke had left Los Angeles to scout locations, Charles Roven and Anna Printz had temporarily taken charge of the production. In just a few short days, they became literal gods in the eyes of several talent agencies and countless agents. Everyone in Hollywood knew that Duke didn't micromanage the small stuff and was perfectly willing to delegate authority to his subordinates. These two held the deciding votes for minor roles and even some important supporting characters.

A light knock sounded at the door. Anna Printz called for them to enter, and a blonde girl, twenty at most, pushed the door open and walked in.

She stepped up to the opposite side of the desk and offered a familiar greeting. "Hi, Anna. It's been a while."

Anna Printz quickly offered her the chair across the desk. "Scar, how did you find the time to come over?"

"I'm here to sign up for an audition." Scarlett Johansson didn't stand on ceremony, dropping carelessly into the chair and pointing at the ceiling. "My agent is already upstairs looking for Charles Roven."

"You want to audition?" Anna Printz asked curiously.

"For the female lead!" Scarlett said, taking it as a matter of course. "I think I'm a perfect fit."

Anna Printz gave her a look. As Duke's deputy, she was vaguely aware of certain matters—it seemed the cold war between her boss and his girlfriend had started over this very girl.

Not wanting to get involved, she said directly, "Scar, you know I don't have the final say on this kind of role."

"Yeah..." Scarlett nodded. "The final decision is in Duke's hands. I just came by to say hello."

She glanced at her watch. "It's about time. I won't bother you anymore. I should get going."

"Goodbye, Scar."

"Goodbye, Anna."

Stepping out of Anna's office, Scarlett didn't go to meet her agent. Instead, she sat down in the studio lobby to wait. A few minutes later, a car horn honked outside. She stood up, peered through the window, and quickly left Duke Studio.

Pulling open the door of the sky-blue sports car, Scarlett said, "You're late."

"Traffic." Sofia Coppola started the car and pulled onto the road heading toward Beverly Hills. Once they cleared the congested section, she suddenly asked, "What are you trying to do, Scar?"

Seeing Sofia's furrowed brows, Scarlett protested, "Hey, Sofia, we're on the same team here!"

"Are you really going to play eye candy in Duke's movie?" Sofia shot her a glance, then turned the steering wheel to pull the car over in front of a roadside restaurant. "This isn't a joke."

"Do I look like I'm joking?" Scarlett unbuckled her seatbelt and looked at Sofia. "I've made my decision. I'm abandoning the artsy style and going commercial."

Sofia Coppola sighed. "Honey, is this really worth it?"

"Haven't you heard the saying?" Scarlett said earnestly. "What you can't have is always the best."

Setting aside the already famous Scarlett Johansson, agents for many well-known actresses had approached the production for the female lead: Anne Hathaway, Jennifer Garner, Amy Adams, Rachel McAdams, Katie Holmes, and more. They all knew perfectly well that as the female lead in Duke's movie, they wouldn't even need to deliver a spectacular performance to become the center of attention in America and across the globe.

Additionally, Gary Oldman, Michael Caine, and Laurence Fishburne—all of whom Duke had specifically requested—had accepted their audition invitations.

However, Duke would not participate in the initial auditions; he was still scouting locations in Iceland.

Although July temperatures in Iceland weren't considered exceedingly low, thick, down-filled cold-weather gear remained essential when venturing onto the glaciers and high-altitude areas.

The Vatnajökull Glacier that Duke and his team were scouting was located near Hofn City in southeastern Iceland. Covering an area of 8,300 square kilometers, it was not only Iceland's largest glacier but also the largest in Europe, trailing only the Antarctic and Greenland ice sheets.

Walking across the vast ice field, the howling wind rushed past their ears, and they occasionally spotted hot springs formed by geothermal heat. The place felt like untouched land, entirely removed from human society. Nature had meticulously carved the rugged terrain with its extraordinary craftsmanship, effortlessly delivering a profound sense of beauty.

"John..." Standing on a raised elevation, Duke pointed across the sweeping expanse of ice and said to his director of photography, "We absolutely have to get a wide panoramic shot. The scenery here is even better than I imagined."

"We'll shoot from two angles: high-angle and eye-level," John Schwartzman said, gazing into the distance. "Then we'll intercut them."

"That's a good idea."

Duke patted John Schwartzman's shoulder and turned to the accompanying staff from the Icelandic Government. "Let's go check out the other side of the mountain."

This place looked like a plain, but it was actually a bowl-shaped plateau. The Vatnajökull Glacier was surrounded by numerous towering mountain ranges, with some individual peaks exceeding 6,000 feet in elevation.

Getting back into their cars, Duke and his team drove toward the distant peaks. Along the way, their eyes were filled with an overwhelming expanse of white. The ground was white; the sky was white. That flat, endless, boundless miracle of white felt almost overbearing in its presence—a true marvel of the world.

The icy, cruel, and incredibly primitive scenery of the glacier filled anyone standing within it with awe, making them feel as if they had stepped into a time tunnel...

This perfectly matched the atmosphere for the opening of the film!