Chapter 668: An Unprecedented Invitation

The writers' strike had once threatened this year's Oscar Awards Ceremony. Many even believed the Oscar Awards Ceremony was destined to be canceled. But for industry veterans like Duke, it was easy to see that the strike could never kill the Oscar Awards Ceremony.

Although the Producers Alliance had taken an exceptionally hardline stance against the Writers Guild, they would inevitably have to make concessions.

The School had prepared for both outcomes. Worried that the strike might halt the Oscar Awards Ceremony, they had an emergency gala ready in case the walkout continued.

The Oscar was the face of Hollywood and the entire North American film industry. The School would never allow an accident to happen.

They sent dedicated representatives to intervene in the negotiations, urging both sides to reach an agreement as quickly as possible.

The Washington Authorities also applied pressure. The fragile national economy simply couldn't withstand the torment of a prolonged strike. If Hollywood derailed, not only would the pillar of the entertainment industry suffer, but it could even exacerbate the turmoil on Wall Street.

For any industry to function normally, both labor and management had to play by mutually recognized "rules of the game." With the entire entertainment industry generating tens of billions of dollars annually, giving the writers a slice of the pie seemed perfectly natural and justified.

But capital was inherently profit-driven. Touching the commercial conglomerates' cake was akin to carving flesh right off the capitalists' bones.

The primary dispute lay in the timing and scope of compensation. The producers demanded that a portion of the pay be withheld until film and television costs were recovered. The writers, meanwhile, demanded better treatment across film, television, and reality shows. Furthermore, they insisted on a 2 percent cut of DVD revenues, along with an increase in their share of online streaming and downloads from zero to 4.5 percent.

These terms were absolutely unacceptable to the production companies and the Producers Alliance.

Ten days before the Oscar Awards Ceremony, thanks to the concerted efforts of all parties involved, the protracted tug-of-war between the Producers Alliance and the Writers Guild finally yielded a preliminary agreement. Major Hollywood studios made certain concessions. The Writers Guild signed a three-year temporary contract with the Producers Alliance.

The contract not only raised basic salaries for writers but also secured a 0.6 percent cut of DVD revenues and a 2.3 percent share of online streaming profits. This applied not just to current projects; they could also draw a percentage from past works.

Following this, the Writers Guild held a membership vote. With an overwhelming 3,775 votes in favor, they unanimously agreed to end the drawn-out strike.

The Writers Guild also sent an email to every member, calling for an immediate return to work.

"The strike is over. Tomorrow, the writers will return to their posts, and everything will go back to normal."

Writers Guild chairman Patrick Verrone stated at a press conference, "A strike was never what we wanted. We merely sought a reasonable commission from new media revenues. Now, the results we've achieved are enough to give us a foothold in this digital age."

The producers had surrendered a portion of their profits. Though the Writers Guild hadn't achieved its initial demands, the negotiated outcome was enough to satisfy the majority.

"This is the best deal we've gotten in 30 years," many writers remarked during interviews.

While the writers had successfully grabbed a slice of the DVD and online revenue pie, calling it "the best deal" felt more like a collective sigh of relief after a grueling war of attrition.

This three-year temporary contract merely met their psychological baseline. The dominant position of the Producers Alliance was never going to change because of a single strike.

It was entirely predictable that striking to achieve financial demands would become a standard model in Hollywood. Both the 1988 and 2008 strikes had, at least on the surface, won the marginalized writers a portion of the benefits they needed.

Perhaps the next Hollywood-style strike wasn't so far off.

The conflict between labor and management could never be completely resolved.

With the writers' strike concluded, the 80th Oscar Awards Ceremony proceeded smoothly.

"It's actually raining..."

Stepping out of the car, Scarlett Johansson lifted the hem of her dark evening gown and carefully took Duke's arm as they navigated the wet ground.

"This is really annoying," she said.

Los Angeles was known for its arid climate, and no one had expected it to actually rain on the day of the Oscar Awards Ceremony.

Fortunately, the organizing committee was fully prepared. They had erected a white canopy to shield the stars walking the red carpet. And for a Hollywood fresh out of the writers' strike, a little wind and rain hardly counted as a storm.

Guided by the staff, Duke walked into the large tent set up in the waiting area. In honor of Heath Ledger, every member of The Dark Knight cast and crew attending the ceremony wore dark attire.

On Duke's side, even Scarlett Johansson had opted for a black evening gown.

Although they had arrived a bit late and quite a few people were already walking the red carpet ahead, there was still a sizable crowd waiting in the tent. Duke greeted several of them before walking over to a familiar face.

"Do you have your acceptance speech ready?"

The man he asked was Leonardo DiCaprio.

Leonardo shrugged. "I think my chances of winning are even lower than yours of taking Best Director."

Both men laughed. They weren't newcomers to the industry; they had a fairly clear sense of whether they were actually going to win.

Besides, Leonardo had earned his nomination for The Departed, a film heavily favored for Best Director and Best Picture. Much like Heath Ledger, countless fans and media outlets believed it was high time the School finally recognized Martin Scorsese.

Furthermore, Leonardo's primary rival was Daniel Day-Lewis—an absolute darling of the School.

After chatting with Leonardo for a few minutes, Duke turned his gaze forward. The Oscar red carpet was staging its indispensable annual pageant of glamour and rivalry.

The bleachers and streets surrounding the Kodak Theater were packed with thousands of fans. The first stars to grace the red carpet included George Clooney, nominated for the Oscar for Best Actor this year for Michael Clayton, alongside the newest James Bond, Daniel Craig, and his girlfriend, Rachel Weisz.

Renee Zellweger stepped out in a backless evening gown, drawing instant screams from the crowd. Cate Blanchett strolled slowly down the carpet, wearing a massive, dazzling necklace. Stars like Harrison Ford, Penelope Cruz, and Hilary Swank followed in succession, making their way into the Kodak Theater.

At all major award ceremonies, male stars invariably wore the same old black suits—offering little novelty or visual flair.

The heavy responsibility of drawing eyes on the red carpet naturally fell to the women. Hollywood shone brightly today, and a host of actresses in peak form had dressed to the nines, sparing no effort to flaunt their sex appeal and elegance. Selling sex appeal was no longer confined to low necklines and bare backs; one-shoulder cuts, thigh-high slits, sheer fabrics, and even vintage revivals... the endless tricks of the trade were out in full force.

Much like their male counterparts, black had always been a safe, bottom-of-the-wardrobe fallback for actresses at award shows. The calm aura of black could be interpreted as mysterious, played as sexy, or kept elegant—it rarely went wrong.

But at this year's Oscars, the actresses seemed to have made a secret pact. A massive number had defected to the red camp, unanimously choosing a vibrant, true crimson. From the newly risen Amy Adams and the reigning Best Actress Helen Mirren, to the vintage beauty Katherine Heigl—whether veteran character actors or teen idols—they all shared a profound devotion to bright red, bringing a fiery passion to the traditionally dignified and classic Oscars.

One only needed to look at the frantic flashing of the cameras to know just how potent their heat was.

"The Ledgers are here."

Hearing Scarlett's reminder, Duke withdrew his gaze and turned toward the entrance. Spotting Kim Ledger and his wife, Duke subtly straightened his suit and led Scarlett over to meet them.

Though this country didn't share the cultural reverence of "respecting the deceased above all else," Duke still needed to show appropriate deference to Heath Ledger's family on an occasion like this.

"Hi, Kim."

Approaching them, Duke exchanged hugs with Kim and his wife before offering a few polite words.

He didn't say much else. Soon, a staff member came over to notify them it was time. He and Scarlett stepped onto the Oscar red carpet. Even though he signed autographs for a few fans holding up The Dark Knight and Transformers posters, Duke breezed through the red carpet at his usual brisk pace.

Upon entering the Kodak Theater, he and Scarlett headed straight for the front rows. With nine nominations, The Dark Knight crew was seated quite far forward. Furthermore, as a promotional push for the film, Warner Brothers had successfully lobbied to get Andrew Garfield and Amber Heard spots as presenters for Best Animated Feature.

Duke was also one of the presenters. He hadn't turned down the School's invitation—because they wanted him to present Best Supporting Actor!

This unprecedented invitation essentially guaranteed that Heath Ledger was going to win the Golden Statuette.

In some ways, this Oscar Awards Ceremony was just like the one where Duke had previously taken home his Best Director Golden Statuette—it thoroughly lacked suspense.

For Best Supporting Actor, Best Actor, Best Director, and Best Picture, overwhelming favorites had emerged long before the ceremony even began. And the School wasn't likely to pull any massive upsets.

After all, the leads held by Heath Ledger, Daniel Day-Lewis, and Martin Scorsese were simply too obvious.

The stage lights flared. After a brief introductory montage, The Daily Show host Jon Stewart stepped out onto the stage, immediately targeting the newly concluded Hollywood writers' strike in his opening monologue.

He spoke in a teasing tone, "These past two-plus months have been tough. The bitter writers' strike tore Hollywood apart, and I am very glad this fight is over."

The Oscars had officially welcomed their 80th birthday. The curtain rose on the 80th Oscar Awards Ceremony.