Chapter 951: Chapter 878: Open Fire, Don’t Stop_2 Chapter 951: Chapter 878: Open Fire, Don’t Stop_2 Hamada chid in, “I watched the trailer for ‘Shark Beach.’ It’s not hard to tell from the various previews that this is a film with simple scenes, characters, and story. Martin is just using a gimmicky approach to filmmaking.”
He paused, then turned to ask, “Although Warner Bros. now has the rights to the project, we still have the capacity to intervene. Should we remind them not to let Martin write, direct, and star in it himself?”
Kevin Tsujihara, equally skeptical of Martin’s directing abilities, thought for a mont and pragmatically suggested, “Let’s wait. ‘Shark Beach’ will be released soon. We’ll see how the box office and reviews turn out. After all, the market is the final judge of a movie’s success.”
Hamada comnted, “I will keep an eye on ‘Shark Beach.’
There was sothing he kept to himself, though; he hoped that Martin Davis would take a hard fall this ti.
…
In the garden of a mansion in the Sunset Boulevard North District.
The Oscar ballots that the Academy had mailed out before the New Year were scattered on a wooden table, with few categories filled in. For instance, the first na written for Best Actor was Martin Davis.
Nicholson ran back and forth from the storage room several tis, bringing a bunch of tal targets. He told Lorraine, “Mix them up and have the servants hang them on the iron racks to the west.”
Lorraine looked at her father, then at her two idiotic brothers, and asked, “What are you guys up to now?”
Martin, holding a box, erged from the storage room and declared, “Ensuring the fairness and integrity of the Oscars.”
Lorraine didn’t buy a word of it, “You guys?”
Leonardo hefted a hand-held homade iron tube and boasted, “In a minute, you’ll be amazed by our way of selecting the Oscar winners, regardless of publicity, art, or film quality…”
Lorraine opened the large disc-shaped targets, which had the nas of movies, directors, writers, and actors on them.
She handed them to the family’s old chauffeur, who took the ladder to hang the targets.
The barren stands rose like bare trees, each branch equipped with a hook.
The chauffeur hung the nurous signs on the hooks.
Martin opened the box and pulled out the special ammunition Nicholson had ordered, asking, “Jack, are we using the old thod?”
Nicholson walked over, picked up a round firework shell, and explained, “A bit different, this one won’t explode when it goes off. If it hits the target, it’ll leave a colored mark.”
Martin took several shells and slipped them into his pocket, asking, “Who’s shooting first?”
Leonardo put on a safety helt, patted the homade launcher, and declared, “Of course, I’ll go first!”
The targets were hung quickly, and soone yelled from that direction.
Leonardo limbered up, stepping into the circular firing area marked by Nicholson, and shouldered the homade launcher, aiming at one of the iron fras.
The Trio of Scoundrels were experienced in launching these types of fireworks; they had even delivered an impressive firework gift for Johnny Depp and Amber Heard’s wedding.
Prepared, Leonardo called out, “Martin, load for .”
Martin lit the firework in his hand with a windproof lighter, stuffed it into the barrel, and slapped Leonardo on the safety helt, shouting, “Fire!”
Leonardo adjusted his aim slightly, waited a few seconds, and with a muffled bang, the firework shell flew out.
Although the shell flew in a parabola, the three were seasoned enough in this ga to hit the target on the first shot.
Accompanied by a thudding impact, a burst of colored smoke erupted near the iron fra.
Nicholson picked up binoculars, took a brief look, and spotted a bright red mark on one of the tal targets.
He recognized the na and announced, “Best Picture nominee, ‘The Theory of Everything’!”
Martin, now in charge of loading, told Lorraine, “Quick, write down the na of this movie in the Best Picture nomination slot on our Oscar ballot.”
Lorraine, who had already figured out what the three scoundrels were up to, was the only one free at the mont and hurriedly picked up a pen to write down the movie na.
Just as she finished writing, another muffled bang was heard.
But this ti, Leonardo missed.
Martin kept loading, shouting, “Don’t stop, keep going!”
On the third shot, another thud was heard.
Spotter Nicholson raised his binoculars and declared, “Best Actress nominee, Reese Witherspoon!”
Lorraine filled in the first line of the Best Actress nominations with Reese Witherspoon’s na.
Seeing Martin about to reload, she couldn’t help but murmur to herself, “This thod of selecting nominations is just so fair and just.”
No matter who the actor is, no matter the role, no matter the movie, no matter which company it cos from, the main approach is equal treatnt.
After they had chosen seven nominees this way, Martin took the shooter’s role, and Leonardo served as the loader.
The dull thuds of explosions were incessant.
Martin’s shooting accuracy was much higher than Leonardo’s.
The latter would probably select an Oscar nominee every two or three shots.
Martin’s hit rate reached a staggering ninety percent.
Lorraine figured if you fild the Trio of Scoundrels picking Oscar nominees and sold it as breaking news, it would make a fortune.
But it was just a fleeting thought.
After all, her father Nicholson was now the benchmark of acting in Hollywood, the epito erected by the Academy, the mascot of the Oscars.
Martin and Leonardo were also active mbers of the Oscars.
Releasing this information now would definitely cause the Oscars’ authority to plumt.
After Martin finished, it was Nicholson’s turn to shoot.
The old scoundrel’s accuracy was much worse; they struggled until sunset before finally settling the Oscar nomination ballots.
To ensure fairness and justice, Martin had Lorraine seal the ballots directly and mail them out that night.
Nicholson stretched lazily, “Another year’s revelry is over.”
Leonardo said, “Next year let’s find a more interesting thod.”
Martin asked, “Do you have a better idea?”
Leonardo, the old lecher, quickly ca up with a bad idea, “Each of us hires a team of female models to hide the Morse code representing the candidates in their clothes, then we choose one at random, and take off our pants…”
Nicholson waved his hands dismissively, “I’m too old for these gas now.”
He dragged over a chair, sat down, and said, “As for Jennifer Lawrence, I’m ready to let go too.”
Martin understood him, “You can’t be serious, you’re not up for it anymore?”
“A real man can’t say he’s not up for it!” Leonardo kicked him while he was down, patting Nicholson on the shoulder, “So you are the weakest among us after all!”
Nicholson calmly replied, “I’m seventy-seven, and can still do it at least once a week.” He looked down on Leonardo with disdain, “You, with your thirty seconds, will be out of the ga by sixty.”
But Martin shook his head, “Jack, you’re wrong.”
Leonardo slung his arm around Martin’s shoulder, “Finally, you speak the truth.”
The blow followed as Martin said, “Leo being able to make it to fifty would be quite sothing.”
Leonardo let go, pushing Martin away, “You’re a complete bastard!”
After mocking each other for a while, Martin, seeing the sky darken, said, “Let’s go have dinner, wash up afterwards; I’ll foot the bill today.”
Nicholson and Leonardo decided to eat an expensive al, planning to empty Martin’s wallet.
After settling the Oscar ballots, Martin’s energy was mainly focused on promoting “Shark Beach,” continuing to run press circuits with the cast.
Before mid-January, Disney Studios held three special screenings for “Shark Beach”: a dia screening, a fan screening, and a screening for theater managers, receiving fairly decent feedback.
Of course, it couldn’t compare to the movies Martin starred in before, but it also wasn’t a flop.
Disney Studios subsequently lifted the embargo on the film’s reputation.
Rotten Tomatoes’ freshness surprisingly exceeded eighty percent, and IMDB also had an initial rating of 8.2.
At least these suggested the movie wouldn’t suffer a box office disaster.
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