"Thank you, thank you to the Academy!"
On the Oscar stage, David Fincher held the Oscar for Best Director aloft as he had long wished. He glanced at the stage entrance leading backstage, where Martin was there applauding.
After a decade-long journey chasing the Oscars, he had finally reached the destination and got the result he wanted. David Fincher was thrilled, "Thank you, Martin, you are the best partner! Thanks to my agent, thank you to every mber of the crew..."
Nothing out of the ordinary, his routine words of thanks said, David Fincher stepped backstage amid rousing applause.
He ca to the entrance, opened his arms, and hugged Martin, saying, "We f*cking did it!"
Martin patted his back. "A perfect ending."
David Fincher let go of Martin and couldn't help but burst into laughter. There was nothing more satisfying in life.
As he was about to walk away, Martin grabbed him, gesturing with his eyes to the side, "Just wait a mont."
Right there, the Best Picture award presenter, Nicholson, was getting ready to go on stage, oddly without the envelope with the answer in his hand.
David Fincher, of course, knew that his crew was still contesting an extrely important award.
The director had given his orders, and Nicholson flashed Martin a smile before quickly ascending the stage.
The final award of the night was about to be revealed.
The thod of presentation, however, was unexpected. After Nicholson read out the nominations, the big screen video suddenly switched, the footage cutting over to the White House!
Everyone at the Dolby Theatre and watching on TV was taken aback.
But on second thought, it seed normal. Hollywood has always been closely linked to politics, and it's the stronghold of the die-hard supporters of the Donkey Party.
"Escape from Tehran" had been generating various connections with the White House since its screening phase.
On the big screen, in the White House press room, the First Lady, Michel, holding the classic Oscar envelope, slowly walked up to the cara with several daughters in tow, and opened the envelope.
The answer in the envelope ca as no surprise; she announced directly, "The Oscar for Best Picture goes to 'Escape from Tehran.'"
Backstage at the entrance, Martin and David Fincher high-fived in celebration.
Even when the outco was anticipated, it still brought joy when revealed.
This represented the highest artistic affirmation of Hollywood and the anticipated surge in business revenue that would follow.
At the guest seating area, Graham and the main creators of "Escape from Tehran" went up on stage together, while Martin and David Fincher moved from backstage to the stage.
As Louise hadn't co, Nicholson handed the Oscar trophies directly to Martin and Graham.
This kind of lilight had shone on Martin many tis before; he gestured to Graham and stepped aside on his own initiative.
Graham gave the acceptance speech on behalf of the crew.
"Escape from Tehran" beca the biggest winner of the night, securing the awards for Best Editing, Best Adapted Screenplay, Best Director, and Best Picture.
Backstage, the winners holding the heavyweight trophies posed for a photo in front of the giant Oscar statuette, as arranged by the Academy.
Martin caught sight of Spielberg again.
The Jewish guy showed not a hint of embarrassnt, approaching proactively and saying, "Tom and I were really hoping you would join 'Bridge of Spies.'"
Martin was unsure what Spielberg was really thinking, but that project seed highly risky to him. He couldn't possibly go and spend hard-raised funds to pay others high salaries.
Let alone end up with the situation where the director and star made a huge profit, but the film lost money.
"I really had no choice," Martin said with a helpless expression, "My agent and people around were against it, thinking I shouldn't take roles other than the absolute lead. They were afraid of triggering a chain reaction."
Spielberg couldn't force him: "That's a real pity, then. Let's wait for another opportunity."
Martin shook hands with him: "We'll wait for another chance."
After the photo opportunity, Martin and the crew of "Escape from Tehran" headed straight for the Hilton Hotel to attend the "Oscar Night" party.
In the hotel banquet hall, the crew celebrated lavishly. David Fincher, having drunk a lot, ca over holding a big glass of wine, insisted on drinking a toast with Martin under the encouragent of Leonardo and Nicholson.
A group of winners laughed and fooled around to their heart's content.
Jennifer Lawrence was brought over by Nicholson, who had her raise a special toast to Martin, "Without Martin, you wouldn't have this Best Actress Oscar."
Martin drank with Jennifer Lawrence, saying, "Don't listen to Jack, that bastard. Apart from handing you the Oscar, nothing else has anything to do with ."
"How does it have nothing to do with you?" Nicholson interjected. "This year, I helped Jennifer campaign for the award, using the thod you taught."
He whispered, "Your so-called 'trashy campaign.'"
Seeing the list of nominees for Best Actress, Martin had guessed as much.
He had a bad feeling that before long, 'trashy' might well beco a mainstream approach to Oscar PR.
If the Great Commander elections could be won by 'trashy,' why not the Oscars?
After drinking for a while, David Fincher, clutching the Best Director Oscar, sat next to Martin and said, "I want to give you a heads-up. Netflix will hold a press conference with in two days to announce our full collaboration."
Martin understood his aning, "I'm well prepared this end; there won't be any impact." He smiled, "I'm also planning to sign a collaboration agreent with Netflix."
David Fincher said, "The Academy looks down on Netflix, I guess I'm done with the Oscars from now on."
"That's not necessarily the case." Martin rembered that in a few years, many top directors and stars in Hollywood would collaborate with Netflix, and it would even beco common, "Society is evolving rapidly, with internet streaming sites becoming a new force. Opinions will change, and by then the industry sentint might shift."
"How will it change?" David Fincher asked.
Martin said, "Making money isn't embarrassing."
David Fincher couldn't help but laugh and said, "Didn't you take my director's handbook? Do you want to put it into practice?"
Martin had indeed considered it and replied, "I don't have a talent for this. You, Director Nolan, and Director Scott all think the sa. So I plan to start with a small project that requires low investnt, has very simple scenes, and minimal actor interaction. If it flops, I won't lose much money."
"That's an idea," David Fincher offered proactively. "If the opportunity arises, I'll set aside an episode for you to direct, so you can practice."
Martin asked with concern, "Aren't you afraid I'll ss it up?"
David Fincher considered and said, "No problem, I'll pair you with an experienced assistant director. With your fa and influence, Netflix won't object to this given their way of doing things."
Martin believed him, "I'll practice on my end first. I've already found the actors."
He had briefly discussed it with Blake Lively before and had asked her to increase her online presence.
David Fincher clinked glasses with Martin again, "If you run into any issues, feel free to call ."
"I will," Martin said, drinking the contents of his glass.
When the party reached its midpoint, David Fincher called for a continuation of the celebration at his ho.
Martin and Charlize Theron also stopped by but soon left together to return to Beverly Hills.
Arriving in Sunset Boulevard North District, Charlize said to Martin, "You go ho first."
Puzzled, Martin asked, "Not coming to your place?"
Charlize instructed, "Don't co directly to my house. Go ho first, then I'll set up the sky bridge, and you can co over the bridge."
"All this hassle?" Martin was too lazy to climb over the fence.
But Charlize insisted, "It's more exciting this way, sneaking over the fence."
Martin couldn't help but look her over, "You're playing at a higher level now."
"I learned from you," Charlize urged Martin to hurry ho.
After arriving ho, Martin took a shower, changed clothes, and when he got to the fence near Charlize's house, a walking bridge with stairs was already in place.
The neighborly experience instantly set in.
Martin climbed the steps, crossed the fence, and noticed that the lights in Charlize's yard were off, with only the villa shining brightly.
The atmosphere was truly sensational.
Martin felt like a thief, stealthily crossing the yard and approaching the villa's window, peering inside.
Charlize, clad in a golden one-shoulder evening gown and walking in high heels, approached the window.
Dressed up, South Africa's gem was undoubtedly one of Hollywood's top-tier clotheshorses in terms of figure, deanor, and appearance.
Charlize, having seen Martin outside the window, quickened her step slightly, and with a hand on the strap, she gave it a yank to the side.
Martin forcefully opened the window, leaned in to support himself, and jumped inside, striding over to scoop her up and head upstairs.
On the living room wall hung a photo of Charlize Theron with Stuart Townsend.
As Martin climbed the stairs, he turned for another glance at the pictures by the staircase and around the corner, also featuring the sa two.
It truly felt like sneaking into soone else's ho to do sothing secretive.
Martin rembered a superstar from his past life who always sneaked into people's hos to have heartfelt exchanges under family portraits with the ladies of the house.
Back then, Martin couldn't wrap his head around it.
Now, he understood the thrill.
The excitent was doubled.
On Oscar night, while the outside world buzzed, Martin and Charlize hid away in the mansion, playing poker under a giant photograph for half the night.
Martin also confird that Charlize, with her long hair and trained muscles, did not look like a pale version of Tyson from behind.
The next morning, the two were rudely awakened by the ring of a cellphone.
Without looking, Charlize pressed the end call button.
But the phone rang again.
Martin exclaid, "Who has such a lack of public morals!"
Charlize grabbed the phone, glanced at it, and said, "Stuart Townsend."
Suddenly rembering what she had told Martin the day before, she stood up, walked to the bedroom window, and answered the call, "What do you want?"
"Hey, Sally, can we please talk?" the voice on the other end pleaded.
Charlize was straightforward, "Speak to the point."
She gestured for Martin to co over while her hand rested on the windowsill.
Of course, Martin understood and strode over.
Charlize continued to respond to the call.
After a while, she hung up and said, "He insists on coming over."
Now influenced by Charlize, Martin said, "Since he's coming on his own, let's do what we discussed yesterday."
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