Chapter 549: Ready to Launch

The film had been running for over two hours, and Billy Emerson had lost count of how many times he had yawned. If not for the occasional explosion, he probably would have fallen asleep long ago. As for his two companions, one was staring down at a mobile game in boredom, while the other was entirely focused on his cola and popcorn. Clearly, neither had the slightest interest in the movie.

As an aviation film enthusiast, Billy Emerson was one of the rare few in the theater still managing to watch attentively. While it wasn't so boring that it drove the audience to walk out early like Kingdom of Heaven, its entertainment value was decidedly average.

For Billy Emerson, sitting through those two agonizing hours had left him with nothing but disappointment.

As the screening neared its end, Billy Emerson reflected on the plot and couldn't help but curl his lip. The likable parts of the movie were few and far between, while the things to hate were innumerable.

Take the plot and dialogue, for instance. Even though the screenwriters had tried their best not to saddle their great-grandfather-generation characters with modern dialogue and mannerisms, the handling of the cast and storylines—whether leads or supporting roles, heroes or villains—was either painfully clichéd or laughably absurd. It didn't feel like an aviation film about courage and guts, but rather a mishmash of Western, sci-fi, and cartoon elements.

In Hollywood, a mishmash was usually synonymous with a bad movie.

For example, the various antics of Rawlings, the pilot played by lead actor James Franco, made Flyboys feel more like a Western.

This bad boy had fled across the ocean to France to escape an assault charge, bringing the free-spirited, undisciplined style of a cowboy to the Lafayette Escadrille—a unit that should have revered military discipline and uniformity.

He could ride—no, fly—a fighter plane off on a private date with a French girl, then smuggle her and her three nieces and nephews out of German-occupied territory. And his commanding officer actually let him off the hook! He could land with ease on a battlefield that should have been plowed into a sieve by artillery fire from both sides, acting like a lone-wolf cowboy, and rescue a downed comrade without a scratch. It made it seem like they were facing Indians armed with throwing axes and bows rather than a German army equipped with heavy artillery and Maxim machine guns.

As for the climactic sequence where he shot a German pilot with a handgun high in the air, it looked exactly like a cowboy trick performed on horseback. Only, he was straddling a biplane moving at a hundred miles per hour, and the classic laws of physics apparently had no effect on a scientifically illiterate cowboy thug.

Furthermore, the lackluster performances of the cast were glaringly obvious.

Although Flyboys was supposed to be an ensemble piece, everyone besides Franco had a pitifully small amount of screen time. With insufficient characterization for the rest of the squad, it was only natural that the ensemble film turned into a one-man show.

It was just that James Franco had clearly failed to live up to the director's high expectations. Even though he put effort into his performance, it remained superficial. Meanwhile, his co-star Joseph Fiennes wore a look of deep, bitter resentment, his face etched with the heavy gloom of war. Unfortunately, standing next to Franco in his cowboy-thug persona was like throwing a lit match into a nitrogen cylinder. It provoked absolutely zero reaction.

Of course, Billy Emerson couldn't deny that James Franco looked undeniably handsome in the film. But even if he were more charismatic than Leonardo DiCaprio, he still couldn't single-handedly save the movie from its own tedium.

Throughout the entire screening, David Ellison felt restless. He kept looking back from time to time. This was his very first self-financed production, and a massive blockbuster with an investment of over a hundred million dollars at that—saying he wasn't nervous would be a lie. To his relief, however, from the start of the screening to the very end, he didn't see the kind of widespread walkouts that had plagued the premiere of Kingdom of Heaven.

That was a good thing, wasn't it?

Perhaps this was the beginning of success.

Just as David Ellison was thinking this, the credits slowly rolled. He turned his head slightly to look back, his eyes full of anticipation.

Naturally, he was anticipating applause—applause that boomed like thunder and rolled continuously like the ocean tide.

David Ellison had heard from many people that at the premieres of Duke Rosenberg's films, or even when regular screenings ended, audiences would always break into spontaneous applause that could last for nearly ten minutes.

He desperately wanted that applause as well; at the very least, it would mean the premiere audience approved of the film.

However, the credits finished rolling, and a buzzing murmur of discussion filled the theater, but the applause David Ellison expected never came.

David Ellison frowned slightly but didn't panic. He had heard that when a brilliant film finished screening, the audience would be left endlessly reflecting on the experience, which made the applause inevitably arrive a bit late.

He believed the applause would definitely start spontaneously.

As the seconds ticked by, the murmur of discussion in the theater grew louder. It prompted David Ellison to look back, only to see that quite a few people had already stood up and were preparing to leave, showing no intention of clapping whatsoever.

'This is...' His heart skipped a beat.

Right at that moment, scattered applause suddenly broke out from various spots in the theater. The clapping seemed to remind the rest of the audience that applauding after a premiere was standard viewing etiquette, and they finally brought their hands together. Yet no matter how one listened, the applause was far from loud; it felt more like they were just going through the motions.

The loudest applause still came from the few places where it had initially started, as well as from the front-row VIP seats.

David Ellison's expression turned somewhat ugly. The people sitting in the front rows were all VIPs attending the premiere—how could they possibly be impolite in public? And the applause that had started first hadn't come from ordinary audience members at all; those were shills they had arranged well in advance!

Even driven by the planted shills, the applause was still this dismal. Could the film...

At this thought, David Ellison shook his head. An idea naturally sprang to his mind: this was just a premiere. It didn't prove anything, did it?

"David, brilliant movie."

"David, nicely done."

"This movie is definitely going to be a huge hit."

Amidst the applause, many people walked over wearing bright smiles to offer their congratulations. David Ellison braced himself and expressed his thanks with a smile.

Perhaps it was the seemingly sincere words of praise from these people, but David Ellison gradually regained his confidence. If so many people were praising the movie, it meant Flyboys had its merits after all.

"What do you think?"

Rising from her seat, Aerin Lauder asked Duke, "Will it pose a threat?"

"What do you think?" Duke asked in return.

Aerin thought for a moment and said, "The special effects are quite good, but they can't cover up the fatal flaws in the plot. There are so many effects-heavy blockbusters out there right now; the audience won't necessarily buy into it."

After she finished speaking, she stared intently at Duke.

Duke understood his friend's meaning and simply said, "In my personal opinion, the film's quality is below average."

"Below average?" Aerin tilted her head, walking forward beside Duke. "For an investor and producer like David Ellison, who only recently entered Hollywood, your 'average' rating is practically a compliment."

In the film industry, even counting a cheater like himself, directors and producers who found success with their very first project were extremely rare. Even James Cameron had an unimpressive debut production like Piranha 2.

In Duke's eyes, Flyboys seemed full of elements that audiences loved to see—nostalgia-inducing cowboys, a battlefield brimming with individual heroism, an arrogant and overpowered protagonist, and an idealization of World War I aerial combat that bordered on sci-fi. Yet, combining these elements wouldn't win the audience's favor.

The reason was simple: in the past twenty years of Hollywood history, mishmash movies had never achieved true, massive success.

Perhaps others weren't clear on this point, but Duke understood it very well. Among Hollywood's A-list blockbuster productions, the only truly successful mishmash film was The Avengers, and how many years and how many films had it taken to lay the groundwork for that success?

In fact, after seeing the film's messy style, Duke knew it might have a certain degree of box office appeal. However, for it to become the massive blockbuster that David Ellison and Walt Disney anticipated, the difficulty would be astronomical—it might even require a miracle.

Although many people were walking over to David Ellison's group, Duke had no interest. He had already seen the film with his own eyes and understood the true face of his competitor; there was no need to walk over and throw a few sarcastic remarks their way.

Even if he did mock them, it probably wouldn't be of any use against people like the Ellison Family anyway. The flip side of arrogance was often just a thick skin.

Besides, words were the most powerless form of counterattack.

What he needed to do was use various means to crush Flyboys in the market, making that father-and-son duo who seemingly didn't care about money personally experience the sting of real financial pain.

Even if the Ellison Family was very wealthy, and even if the film had been financed through various channels, the amount of money David Ellison had invested in this project definitely wasn't small. If it suffered a disastrous defeat at the box office, the resulting financial losses would absolutely infuriate the father and son.

Compared to walking over and delivering a few half-hearted taunts, this method of counterattack carried much more weight.

Exiting the theater, Aerin Lauder and Duke climbed into the car one after another. The vehicle started up amidst a flurry of camera flashes. Duke glanced in the rearview mirror; a few paparazzi had already caught up, clearly wanting to see if Aerin would get out.

Duke ordered the driver in a low voice, "To the Upper East Side."

He had no intention of returning to the hotel. He wanted to drop Aerin Lauder off at home first, then head to his mother's place. Even though his mother was currently in Europe, since he was in New York, he still needed to drop by the house and take a look.

The Rolls-Royce gradually picked up speed. Duke pulled out his Mobile Phone, dialed a number, and said coolly, "Ready to launch."