Chapter 794: The Oscar Effect

"Cheers!"

In the banquet hall of the Beverly Hills Hilton Hotel, Duke and the crew raised their glasses once more. Many people around them followed suit; the Gravity crew was undoubtedly one of the stars of the party.

The other center of attention, naturally, was the crowd from Weinstein Pictures.

In the four most heavily weighted categories, Gravity had taken Best Director and Best Actress, while The King's Speech had walked away with Best Picture and Best Actor. It was, without a doubt, a highly successful act of dividing the spoils.

"To our Best Director!"

At the table where Duke and his group were seated, Sofia Coppola, who had specifically come over to join the fun, raised her glass high.

She gestured toward Scarlett Johansson and declared loudly, "And to our Best Actress!"

"Cheers!"

Amid a chorus of agreement, Duke had no choice but to down the champagne in his glass along with everyone else.

His alcohol tolerance was limited, and he had already downed several glasses in a row. As this latest flute of champagne hit his stomach, it felt ready to revolt. He hurriedly sat down for a sip of water, but the people around him weren't about to let him off easily. Fortunately, Harvey Weinstein came looking for him, and Duke used the opportunity to escape Sofia Coppola and the others.

"Congratulations, Harvey."

The two of them moved to a nearby lounge table. Duke offered the plump Jewish man a slight smile. "Weinstein Pictures has taken Best Picture once again."

"Hey, Duke."

Harvey Weinstein smiled in response. "We are all winners, aren't we?"

With the Oscar Awards Ceremony concluded, the brief alliance of interests established between the two men was officially dissolved.

The two men exchanged a few pleasantries.

"There's a rumor inside the School that your future production route will lean closer to the School Faction?" Harvey Weinstein suddenly probed.

During this year's Oscars, he had seen the other party's formidable power firsthand. If Duke truly developed an interest in the Oscars and threw his full weight into them every year, Weinstein Pictures—which used Oscar campaigns as its core operational strategy—would inevitably suffer a massive impact.

When it came to personal connections and networking, Weinstein Pictures might hold a slight edge, but regarding the most critical factor of an Oscar campaign—funding—the Weinstein Brothers could not compare to Duke under any circumstances.

Duke could roughly guess some of Harvey Weinstein's thoughts. He had also heard the relevant rumors.

"Do you think that's possible, Harvey?" he said directly. "This year's Oscars was just a special case."

Just as he said, if it hadn't been for Natalie Portman, how could he possibly have joined this year's Oscar competition?

The heavy folds of Harvey Weinstein's face showed signs of relaxing. "That makes sense. I also think the wishful thinking of those old men in the School is out of touch."

Duke merely smiled and said nothing.

"According to my estimates..." Harvey Weinstein continued, "you still have The Avengers coming up, along with the next Batman installment. You won't have the time to bother with the Oscars anyway."

"Rest assured, Harvey."

In this regard, Duke had plenty of credibility.

"I won't be joining the ranks to compete with you for the Oscar Trophy," he added.

In truth, even without his involvement, it wouldn't be easy for the Weinstein Brothers to call the shots at the Oscars like they used to.

Society, after all, was constantly changing. On the surface, the School had made various reform initiatives, but in reality, it had grown even more conservative. The Weinstein Brothers' Oscar assembly-line works would eventually face rejection.

After Harvey Weinstein left, Sofia Coppola walked over.

"Do you feel anything special?" she asked with a faint nasal tone as she sat down opposite Duke. "My Best Director."

Duke looked at her and shot back, "What kind of special feeling do you think I should have?"

Sofia shrugged. "You're still the same as always. If the people who are driven mad by their desire to win an Oscar knew, they definitely wouldn't be able to stand it."

"Not necessarily," Duke said, turning to look at Leonardo, who was drinking with Scarlett. "Leo is acting perfectly normal."

"Him?" Sofia raised an eyebrow. "He's already used to it."

At that, the two of them couldn't help but laugh simultaneously.

Leonardo was indeed very open-minded about his Oscar loss, and he didn't mind his friends joking about it. Just moments ago, he had even mocked himself, saying he wouldn't win an award before he turned fifty.

The Oscar night parties were still ongoing, and they usually lasted all night. Duke didn't stay long, however; he left Beverly Hills before midnight and returned to his home in Malibu.

The Oscar Awards Ceremony had concluded, but the media's moment was far from over. From the second the ceremony's curtain fell, all sorts of interpretations, reports, and outcries of injustice rose and fell like surging ocean tides, reaching a fever pitch by the following day.

This was an annual routine for the media. Even if their predicted heavy favorites secured sweeping victories, the press still had plenty to say. They would continue to cry foul for the losers and snubbed films because it was the only way to attract public attention.

In truth, very few media outlets cared about why the winners had won or why the losers had lost. All they wanted was engagement.

It was just like the 1995 Oscar Awards Ceremony. Forrest Gump's sweeping victory was exactly what everyone had expected, and anyone with a functioning brain knew that this was the normal state of affairs for the Oscars and Hollywood. Yet the media still cried injustice on behalf of another film. Did they truly believe in that other movie?

They did it purely for the sake of attracting eyeballs.

Following the end of the 83rd Academy Awards, voices lamenting the injustice toward David Fincher became the mainstream media narrative. Unfortunately, industry insiders all knew that David Fincher's style was inherently not the type favored by the School. Coupled with the fact that he never actively participated in public relations campaigns, him winning Oscar Best Director was practically a pipe dream.

No matter how loud those voices grew, they couldn't change the fact that the School disliked David Fincher, nor could they alter the reality that winning an award in the future would remain incomparably difficult for him.

"Just as the School advocates..."

On the beach in Malibu, Duke sat on the pier of the small dock, baiting his fishhook.

"Public relations is the embodiment of the so-called will of free competition," he said. "If you don't even express a desire to compete for an Oscar in the first place, that bunch of old men won't choose you."

"You seem to have learned quite a bit?"

Scarlett lifted her fishing rod, glanced at the hook, and tossed it back into the ocean.

"You might as well open a PR firm dedicated specifically to the awards season," she added.

"My dear," Duke said, casting his own hook into the water, "if you're willing to serve as the CEO, I'll invest in a company like that."

"Me?" Scarlett pointed at herself and hurriedly shook her head. "During the last awards season, attending all those endless events nearly drove me crazy. If I had to do that every year, I'd definitely lose my mind!"

Press calls, parties, film breakdown sessions... these routine awards season activities were indeed exhausting.

The sea breeze blew gently. The Los Angeles area in February wasn't particularly hot. Scarlett shifted her body, inching a bit closer to Duke, and leaned against him. Staring out at the shimmering surface of the sea, she seemed to be lost in thought.

"What are you thinking about?" Duke asked, looking at her.

"Nothing." Scarlett snapped back to reality. "Godmother went back to New York again. She refused to stay here and keep us company for a while longer."

Duke gently patted Scarlett's back. "Mom can't let go of Saintphia."

Scarlett nodded lightly.

Although this advertising agency had been impacted by the economic crisis, it had quickly shaken off its slump. Over the past year, its business had grown rapidly, returning to its most prosperous stage of the past. Just like in previous years, Mrs. Leah had become busy once again.

Duke understood it well by now: it was impossible for his mother to stay idle. Besides, when busy people suddenly had too much free time, all sorts of unexpected issues tended to arise. Now that she no longer handled everything personally and managed Saintphia with the assistance of a few professional managers, it wasn't necessarily a bad thing.

It was much like himself. If he were to retire right now, he could live out the rest of his life in absolute comfort. But Duke had never considered such a plan. Doing nothing all day would definitely bore him to death.

There might be people in this world who enjoyed that kind of leisurely lifestyle, but it wasn't for everyone—especially not for him.

Therefore, Duke wouldn't stop in his tracks. He would continue to march firmly onward.

Although the Oscars were becoming increasingly niche, no one could deny their influence. Films that snagged the heavyweight awards could always rake in massive profits on the market. Otherwise, Weinstein Pictures wouldn't expend so much effort on public relations every year. For people like Harvey Weinstein, the pursuit of commercial profit far outweighed any artistic aspirations.

Perhaps it would be more accurate to say that the Weinstein Brothers had absolutely zero artistic aspirations to begin with.

Having reaped eight Golden Statuettes at the Oscar Awards Ceremony—including Best Director and Best Actress—Gravity naturally enjoyed the Oscar dividend.

On the second day after the ceremony concluded, the film's theater count in North America expanded from over 800 locations to nearly 2,000. Its consistently sliding box office numbers staged a miraculous rebound. In just one week's time, the daily box office quadrupled from $500,000 to $2 million. During the seven days when the Oscar dividend effect was at its strongest, the film raked in over $17 million in North America, thereby pushing its domestic box office past the $350 million milestone.

However, the Oscar effect was slightly weaker overseas, and the international box office did not experience explosive growth.

By the end of February, Gravity's North American box office had reached a cumulative total of $356.21 million. Its global box office had smashed through the $800 million barrier, reaching a staggering $811.24 million.

The Oscar effect also allowed Gravity to unleash its final bout of potential. Even though the film would continue to screen for a long time in North America and overseas, its box office growth rate had already become exceptionally sluggish, relying purely on time to slowly accumulate numbers.

With the start of a brief vacation, Duke began to pour more of his energy into matters outside of film.