Chapter 64: Fox Channel

"This is the new business Saintphia took on."

Hearing Duke's question, Mrs. Leah adjusted her glasses. "Saintphia will handle Victoria's Secret's brand promotion for the next five years. We get a cut of their incremental sales revenue. If everything goes smoothly, the Rosenberg family might step into the ranks of billionaires."

"Do you have a specific plan yet?"

Although his mother was the only potential billionaire, there was only one future heir, wasn't there?

"I just received it." Mrs. Leah's gaze returned to the documents.

Most young men who had lived through the internet age had heard of the brand. Duke had once downloaded an Angels fashion show and knew a little about its background. Of course, his knowledge wasn't deep—mostly just common trivia. He knew that Victoria's Secret only truly rose to prominence in the late nineties, that it was a brand aimed at the general public, the names of its most famous Angels, and about that classic, star-making halftime lingerie show.

"Mom, I have a few ideas." Duke pointed at the halftime commercials still playing on the television. "Hold a lingerie show during the Super Bowl halftime. Don't choose stiff-faced, emaciated supermodels. Treat the runway like a red carpet where they can interact with the audience and the cameras. Hmm... you could also sign a professional team of lingerie models. The name 'Angels' sounds pretty good."

"Anything else?" Mrs. Leah finally looked up.

"Make the lingerie show a fixed annual event and sign broadcasting contracts with television networks," Duke mused. "If possible, on the day of the Oscar Awards Ceremony, set up the runway right across from the red carpet. It would absolutely cause a sensation. Or the Cannes Film Festival would work, too."

"Give me a detailed plan," Mrs. Leah said. "Don't worry, I'll pay you for it."

"Mom..."

Tossing out general ideas was one thing, but he knew absolutely nothing about real advertising and promotion. Just like filmmaking, it was a highly specialized field. Duke's lips twitched before he finally said, "I'm not good at this. Saintphia has professionals. I'm sure with a few pointers, they can draw up a detailed plan."

"I've made a note of your ideas." Mrs. Leah clearly understood Duke well and largely approved of his suggestions. "I'll have Saintphia start discussing them as soon as possible."

Although his mother had always been strict with him, Duke knew who truly cared about him. Repaying one's mother and family was a basic duty.

From the day he stepped into Hollywood, his mother had been quietly supporting him, even using subtle methods to guide him toward seeing the true nature of this commercial society. Duke also knew there wasn't much he could do for her directly, so he could only help his family within his limited capabilities.

In many ways, Duke really had been influenced by his mother. Mrs. Leah was a textbook woman of action; she immediately picked up her documents and headed to the study, clearly intent on organizing his suggestions.

Sitting alone on the sofa, Duke watched the superstar on the screen, his leg lightly bouncing to the rhythm of the music. Even twenty years later, this would remain the greatest halftime performance in Super Bowl history. Michael Jackson was the ultimate king of pop; no one else could even compare.

Naturally, Duke thought of some recent newspaper reports. It wasn't just the tabloids; major papers were also hyping up negative news about Michael Jackson assaulting young boys. Even though his family, his agents, and the boys themselves had offered explanations, they couldn't suppress the media uproar.

The media across America maintained a shocking consensus on the matter.

Did the truth of the incident matter? Not at all. Michael Jackson's skin color doomed him to this inevitability. Even without the child molestation scandal, the media would have soon found another excuse to attack him, driving the white-dominated society to launch a targeted frenzy of criticism.

This was the essence of the social system in North America. Whether of Jewish descent, Anglo-Saxon descent, or any other white heritage, the establishment would not sit idly by and watch a Black man become so successful, possibly even reaching unprecedented heights. Michael Jackson's skin color and fame had already dictated the treatment he would suffer now and in the future.

These criticisms would be set in stone by the media until his death. Aside from Michael Jackson himself, no individual or single group could save him. If he surrendered those massive interests and stepped out of the public eye, perhaps the situation would improve over time. Otherwise, the tragedy would only repeat itself...

Thoroughly saving him meant fighting the entire white society. Who had the power to change all of North America?

This performance at the Rose Bowl Stadium was destined to be remembered, pushing Michael Jackson's reputation to its absolute peak. But then, everything would drastically change over the course of the year.

Aside from Michael Jackson's halftime show, the most discussed aspect of the 1993 Super Bowl was a bomb dropping on Alcatraz Island. The spotlight and media mentions of these two events completely overshadowed the game itself, monopolizing the public eye and media discourse.

"This is a new filming technique, one that might usher in a new era of cinematic technology..."

"Using the bomb as a first-person perspective is pure showboating. And that terrifying explosion at the end... it seems these elements have melted into Duke Rosenberg's blood, becoming an inseparable part of his DNA. We are boundlessly anticipating The Rock this Summer Season!"

"After destroying half of Santa Monica, Duke Rosenberg has set his sights on San Francisco and the famous Alcatraz Island. Is The Rock just another extension of his destructive desires, or is it an innovation on par with the bomb's perspective? We will wait and see."

Starting the day after the Super Bowl, intense news coverage of The Rock flooded television, newspapers, magazines, and various other media. Since the "bomb perspective" had sparked a considerable reaction, Warner focused their short-term promotional goals on it, creating substantial hype.

Rock Studio in Burbank also became the focus of many entertainment journalists. The fire incident from a while ago had been briefly hyped by them, and many assumed the production crew would suffer a setback. Nobody expected them to deliver such a spectacular promotional trailer right away.

Although the announced cast and crew for The Rock lacked A-list directors and actors, a hundred-million-dollar box office director and Nicholas Cage were enough to catch plenty of attention. Though the latter went by the name Cage, the media well knew he was an important member of the Coppola family and the biological nephew of Francis Coppola.

Indeed, the bottom line for movie promotion and hype had always been low. Warner didn't hesitate to exploit Cage's identity, which successfully drew a lot of eyes.

Warner Brothers then released the first official trailer. Because the film's premiere was still far off, the trailer primarily targeted theaters and didn't appear widely on television. However, the movie had so many action, car chase, and explosion scenes that Duke effortlessly cut together enough content to captivate audiences. If a trailer was considered the essence of a film, then The Rock could easily be seen as one super-long trailer.

Soon after, the movie's posters appeared on the display boards of major theater chains. The trio of Nicholas Cage, Ed Harris, and Christopher Lee, silhouetted against the fiery light of a background explosion, exuded a masculine and resolute aura. It fully established the tone for the massive base of action fans: this was a movie for men.

No movie could capture every single demographic—not even the future Titanic could manage that. Every film had to find its precise positioning. The Rock was primarily aimed at men aged 17 to 45, along with a portion of female fans who enjoyed action movies.

The film's promotion proceeded entirely according to Warner's plan and went relatively smoothly. Some of the issues Duke had worried about never materialized. Still, he reminded Robin Grande and Nancy Josephson to constantly monitor the media and CAA's movements. He didn't believe a wolf would turn into a sheep. Perhaps Warner's high alert after the fire had caused some competitors to back down, but as long as the competition didn't cross the bottom line, Warner couldn't say much about it.

Editing, scoring, dubbing, sound effects, visual effects compositing, and various other post-production tasks... as his experience grew, Duke was able to coordinate them more efficiently, moving everything along faster than expected.

For the score, Hans Zimmer had rearranged the music. Although the new composition still differed from what Duke remembered, it was more than enough to meet his demands. By the end of March, they had entered the sound editing phase. As for the theme song, after Shania Twain finished recording it, she flew straight to Nashville, turning their relationship into a temporary one-night stand.

Entering early April, the film's post-production finally reached its concluding stages. Warner Brothers was also preparing to host test screenings for fans, theater representatives, and media critics in mid-April, aiming to determine the final cut and distribution plan based on their feedback.

"I work overtime every single day."

Sitting in the lounge at Rock Studio, Sofia drank her coffee and complained to Duke. "Not everyone has your boundless energy, and not everyone is a workaholic. I demand a raise!"

"Darling..." Duke spread his hands. "Don't forget, you're currently drawing two salaries. You get one as my personal assistant and another as an assistant director. I seem to recall the crew just paid you a third of your assistant director wages. You've already received two-thirds of the $40,000. Don't tell me you've spent it all?"

"Do you see this?" Sofia pointed at her handbag, then at the clothes she was wearing. "A woman's expenses are huge."

"Then you might as well sell me for cash."

They weren't actually arguing about her salary; Duke and Sofia were just used to treating this kind of bickering as a way to relax during breaks.

Suddenly, Duke's phone rang. When he answered, it was Nancy, her words rapid and urgent. "Do you have a TV there? Switch it to the Fox Family Channel!"

The phone was loud enough that Sofia clearly heard her. She walked over to the corner of the lounge, turned on the TV, and switched it straight to the Fox Family Channel.

On the screen was a handsome, elegant old man. There was only one such old man in all of Hollywood—Sean Connery!