Chapter 123: Chapter 123 Pal d’Or
Although Tom Cruise was still a few years away from his peak, he had already beco a Hollywood leading man. As he looked over his achievents, although they were not unrelated to his own efforts, it was still a bit too smooth for most people. Coupled with the youthful idol image he had always maintained, a bit of arrogance seed rather justifiable.
However, as a celebrity with considerable influence in the entertainnt industry, he hadn’t mastered the skill of maintaining a facade, which was essential for every star without exception. Otherwise, the entertainnt industry would have collapsed long ago.
Actually, Cruise was doing quite well, maintaining a peaceful and humble deanor throughout. However, despite trying to change his stereotypical image by taking on nurous drama films since the late ’80s to hone his acting skills, and even earning an Oscar nomination for Best Actor in the ’90s, he didn’t bring his acting skills into real life.
Otherwise, how could Adrian have noticed that hint of arrogance? Looking at Willis and his wife, who shrugged and exchanged significant glances after he left, it was clear why so many people attacked him when he fell from grace.
Well, that was just one reason, no need to analyze it further. Before Cruise left, Adrian traditionally extended an invitation. He had already acquired the adaptation rights to Anne Rice’s novel and was considering using the “original cast” for the project. Of course, he had his own plans, and being a part-ti producer might work, though he still needed to seek out Neil Jordan.
Initially, Cruise was dismissive of the invitation, giving a nonchalant response. Although Adrian was vague, only expressing a hope to collaborate in the future, Cruise’s indifferent attitude was a bit too apparent. However, after Nicole Kidman whispered a few words in his ear, his deanor quickly ward.
...
“If you need , feel free to call or my agent anyti,” Cruise said with a beaming smile, his sincerity wiping away any previous arrogance, for he was no fool.
This also showed that Nicole Kidman was sowhat stronger than him in this respect. Speaking of which, Nicole was probably only around 25 at the ti, in the pri of her youth and beauty. Although she didn’t talk much at the party, her gray-blue eyes were quite captivating.
Back at the hotel, Adrian was still pondering sothing.
Another day passed, and the most crucial mont of the Cannes Film Festival—the awards ceremony—had arrived. Stars, directors, producers, and entertainnt journalists from around the world gathered outside the Lumiere Grand Theater, starting the final revelry.
“Do you think I’ll get the Pal d’Or tonight, Monica?” Holding Monica’s arm, walking down the red carpet into the theater, and sitting down in his seat, Adrian asked cheerfully.
“No,” Monica responded coldly, wearing a low-cut purple evening gown that revealed a deeply enticing cleavage, evidently very sexy, though she slightly leaned to one side as she sat down.
“Alright, alright, if it makes you feel better, then it doesn’t matter if I don’t win,” Adrian laughed heartily, reaching behind the seat to wrap his arm around her waist, no longer needing to hide from prying eyes like in the early days of the festival.
Monica symbolically twisted her body and humd softly before leaning onto Adrian. Though the pain had lessened considerably, she still couldn’t sit properly for a long ti, and it would still take ti to completely eliminate the aftereffects.
Despite being supported by the French governnt, the Cannes Film Festival still had many shortcomings compared to the Oscars. The host’s performance was diocre, the jury sat up stiffly, and there was a lack of entertaining performances like singing and dancing, making the ceremony too serious and lacking liveliness—an evident pretense of the French.
It was for this reason that even though there were over ten awards to be given out, so with multiple winners like the Golden Cara or the Jury Prize, the ceremony didn’t take too much ti to reach the most important part.
Although Adrian couldn’t rember the entire winners’ list—he wasn’t omniscient, only recalling what he had seen in his past life, and his impression of the Cannes Film Festival was fainter than that of the Oscars. However, he clearly knew the important awards, but upon checking, he realized that the 45th Cannes Film Festival had undergone significant changes, such as the Best Director Award going to Denmark’s Bill August! Originally, his “The Best Intentions” had won the Pal d’Or.
Upon hearing this na, Adrian tightened his grip on Monica’s hand. Essentially, if Bill August won Best Director, it was unlikely he’d also win the Pal d’Or, because Cannes was much fairer in distributing awards than the Oscars, rarely allowing one film to sweep multiple major awards. Whether this principle was good or bad was hard to determine.
“You’ll get it, Ed,” Monica said softly, her previous “no” just a joke.
Adrian didn’t respond, just smiled and patted her hand. Next up were two spots for the Jury Special Prize. If “Pulp Fiction” wasn’t listed, the chances of winning the Pal d’Or would significantly increase. However, it wasn’t easy if compared to the Oscars—the Pal d’Or was a consolidation of Best Film and Best Director. Generally, if a film had won the Jury Special Prize in a previous Cannes, its chances of winning the Pal d’Or the next ti it participated would increase. Of course, there were also many films that directly won the Pal d’Or, but the proportion was relatively smaller.
But as a person with a strong desire for control, Adrian did not like situations he couldn’t master. However, trying out this sensation occasionally was still interesting; after all, winning the Pal d’Or wasn’t a necessary part of the plan, which allowed him to feel a thrill of uncertainty.
“The special award goes to the Italian film: ‘Trinkets’! And the Spanish film: ‘Light Illusion’!” As the host announced, a round of applause erupted on the spot. Adrian also took a deep breath, now just waiting for the final mont.
It seed the two award-winning directors realized this as well, as both of their acceptance speeches were very brief. After they stepped down, the host cracked a few jokes, then announced the presenter for the next award. Soon, amidst the music, a tall, slender figure with curly long hair, a young and beautiful face, and grey-blue eyes erged from behind rows of fra-like decorations—who could it be if not Nicole Kidman?
She was still wearing the outfit from that day’s party— a thin-strap evening gown with black sheer stockings and flats, only now accompanied by long black gloves, lending her an even more distinguished air. Adrian couldn’t help but raise his eyebrows.
As Nicole appeared on stage, the host introduced her to the audience, but after a few sentences, redirected the topic back to the Pal d’Or. Nicole stood by with a smile, not speaking. In comparison to the Oscars, the presenters at the Cannes Film Festival were just for show—irrespective of gender, their only job was to hand the list to the host, then watch as the host announced the nas and wait for the award recipients to finish their speeches before leaving.
Ah, the French… Adrian shook his head internally but then focused his attention on the host, a middle-aged man in his forties dressed in a suit and sporting a slicked-back hairstyle who had just opened the scroll handed by Nicole.
“So, I am announcing,” he said dryly yet formally, “that the winner of this festival’s Pal d’Or is the Arican film: ‘Pulp Fiction!'”
Adrian couldn’t help but clench his fists tightly and gave a small, forceful wave, his face showing rare signs of excitent and exhilaration—it had to be admitted, experiencing this occasionally was indeed thrilling.
Applause followed, especially fervent from those seated nearby since the theater seats were organized by region, and those locals were Aricans. Jealous or not, they all clapped vigorously.
After shaking hands with Travolta, Jackson, Willis, Dennis, and others, Adrian adjusted his deanor and walked onto the stage amidst the applause with a smile.
“Thank you, Lermit, thank you, Nicole,” he shook hands individually with the host and Nicole, then received the trophy from host Lermit—a golden palm leaf mounted on a square-cut transparent crystal.
“Thank you to the jury for entrusting with this honor; it is truly an exciting and thrilling experience. I never imagined when making this film that one day I would be here, holding the Pal d’Or. Thanks to the starring actors, thank you to all crew mbers, and to everyone who supported , thank you very much!” Adrian said, lifting the trophy in his hand.
Since this was France and the host had conducted the ceremony entirely in French, Adrian’s speech was also in French. His French was not perfect; he could understand and speak without issues but speaking too quickly could lead to errors, so Adrian made sure to speak slowly, and his speech was relatively short and generalized.
Thus, his French was both clear and well-phrased, which was t with energetic applause from the French, including the host and the French jury mbers seated not far off. Moreover, the Aricans were also supporting their country’s director, which made the auditorium buzz even more than before.
Adrian bowed slightly, trophy in hand, ready to leave, and just as Nicole was about to follow, the two nearly bumped into each other, eliciting a few chuckles.
“Sorry,” Nicole said sowhat awkwardly.
“No worries,” Adrian graciously gestured for her to go ahead.
Perhaps nervous from the incident, Nicole almost stumbled and fell while stepping down, but Adrian, following behind, promptly caught her arm.
“Don’t rush, it’s okay,” he whispered. After making sure Nicole was steady, he let go of her arm, his gentleman-like action drawing yet more applause.
“Thank you,” Nicole smiled at him, then walked back to her seat without turning around.
Adrian also didn’t say anything else and likewise headed straight back to his seat. (To be continued. For further content, please visit qidian. More chapters are available, support the author, support genuine reading!)
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