Chapter 390: Chapter 112 Stupid Practice
“God, you’re finally back,” Laverne breathed a sigh of relief after Adrian had taken his seat again. “If it were a few more minutes, I wouldn’t know how to arrange the cara for the introduction of the Best Original Screenplay nominees.”
“Sorry,” Adrian smirked insincerely and then, adjusting his bow tie, looked towards the stage, “Have they reached Best Original Screenplay yet?”
The presenter had already started reading the list, with Adrian’s “Braveheart” being the first ntioned. His face appeared on the big screen, and he smiled and nodded to the cara amid the applause, pretending as though he had been seated there all along and hadn’t briefly run off to the restroom for a semi-forced intimate mont with Sophie.
It was another of his works, “The Usual Suspects” that had won Spacey the Best Supporting Actor, and the applause erupted again. It was exceedingly rare for soone to receive two Best Original Screenplay nominations at the Oscars, and nearly everyone believed he had the Oscar statuette in the bag.
However, the unexpected occurred when the na announced was: Christopher Wilkinson, Oliver Stone, “Nixon”!
Even the presenter himself seed stunned as he opened the envelope, pausing for quite so ti before applause finally filled the room and the orchestra began playing the score of “Nixon.” However, the surprising and awkward sensation couldn’t be shaken off, even if the Film Academy favored biographies, but wasn’t this a bit much?
This awkwardness also affected those who went on stage to receive the award, Christopher Wilkinson and Oliver Stone, who continually expressed that it was all luck, and they passed most of their praise to the Film Academy.
Below, Adrian clapped casually for them as if he didn’t mind that the award, which should have been easily his, was given to soone else, but in truth, he had raised his eyebrows the mont he heard the na. He was well aware that his prominence and relative youth ant that the Film Academy had to suppress him sowhat, or else how could the older generation stand it?
It was one thing for Best Director to be taken away, as “Braveheart” was good but not top-notch, but losing on both Best Original Screenplay nominations was rather… Considering the earlier awards presented, a possible thought suddenly popped into his mind.
But now wasn’t the ti to ponder too much, as results would surely reveal themselves with the progression of the awards. Besides, during the speech above, Sophie had already returned to her seat. She looked as elegant and proper as when she left, showing no traces of the passion in the restroom, only giving him a fierce, hidden glare as she sat down.
Adrian couldn’t help but laugh quietly and shake his head subtly, then recalled her resistance, wildness, and anger in the restroom.
“You’re a bastard! A rogue! A scoundrel! How could you do this to ! This is rape! It’s rape! Oh, God, I’m as dumb as a pig to have ever had feelings for soone like you!”
“Hmm… before you say that, can I pull out first?”
With just one sentence, Adrian managed to shut Sophie’s fury down, though her fists soon rained down on him. Nevertheless, she forgot the words Adrian had just said and with a slightly larger movent, coupled with the fact that he hadn’t completely softened, she ended up weak all over and finally clung to Adrian with tear-filled eyes.
“Alright, Sophie, stop this, do you know how much I like you?” Adrian quickly soothed, “There’s no makeup artist here, it’ll be bad if you ruin your makeup. Though you’d still look good with your makeup ruined, others don’t have my eye.”
As he spoke, he tidied up, not only wiping the place clean but also helped her put her underwear back on and carefully slipped her previously kicked-off shoes back onto her feet as she sat on the washbasin.
Having cald down, Sophie watched him finish everything before saying, “You’re so practiced at this, have you done this with every woman?”
“No, I’ve only done this with won I liked, wanted to possess, protect, and hold in my arms,” said Adrian, raising his head to look at her, his eyes entirely serious, just as he had never hidden his feelings before.
“You really are a despicable Playboy,” Sophia leaning on the sink turned her head and said, although still visibly annoyed, the dissatisfaction she had felt before had completely vanished.
“I need to go out first, I don’t know which award is being presented now, and I can’t stay away too long. Let’s have a good chat after the award ceremony is over,” Adrian said, kissing her cheek and giving her a light embrace before leaving the restroom. It turned out his timing was quite impeccable; it would have been amusing if he couldn’t be found when his na was called a few minutes later.
With Adrian’s keen insight, how could he not understand what Sophia felt inside? In fact, many won are like this, saying they don’t want it with their lips but their bodies are more honest than anyone’s. However, these are precisely the types of won worth ‘collecting’ for him, precisely because they have feelings for him, they speak in such a manner. Without emotional foundation, no amount of profit is stable.
Well, that’s all for after the event ends, now he should focus his energy on the stage to see if the results tonight turn out as he anticipated.
“Braveheart” was still trounced in all categories, Best Original Score was taken by another, and Best Picture was awarded to soone else, inevitably leading to much speculation. For a popular movie, failing to win anything early on usually ans it might dominate later. Could the Film Academy truly be planning to let Adrian win Best Director again?
“Monster’s Ball, Susan Sarandon!” When Tom Hanks made the announcent, the venue erupted in warm applause. Susan Sarandon hugged Tim Robbins and wept, and after so many near misses with the Best Actress award, she finally claid the highest honor in Arican cinema.
The presentation of the Best Actress indicated the Oscar ceremony was nearing its conclusion, which was also the most climactic mont. So, what would the result be?
“Leaving Las Vegas, Nicholas Cage!” This was for Best Actor.
“Monster’s Ball, Tim Robbins!” This was for Best Director.
Although the applause was still enthusiastic, although Cage greatly thanked Adrian in his acceptance speech, although Robbins, after leaving the stage, indulged in a public display of affection with Sarandon, causing quite a few humorous boos, most people still looked sympathetically towards the team of “Braveheart,” who had lost miserably. Most of the team mbers were sitting with their heads down, occasionally sighing, looking exceptionally gloomy. This atmosphere even affected Sophia, who turned her head to Adrian, seemingly wanting to offer so words of comfort.
“Alright, guys, we just lost to luck, no need to be so down,” Adrian seed completely unconcerned, smiling and patting a few nearby people on the back, “Everyone loses at tis, we just have to win it back next ti. Besides, there’s still one last award, they’ve already won enough, maybe this last one will be thrown to us as a consolation prize.”
Facing his humorous attempt at consolation, everyone forced a smile, invigorating their spirits. Yes, even a Miracle Director has his days of defeat. That’s what they all thought, and even most people in the hall thought the sa. But reality is always more astonishing than fiction.
“Oh, what a… surprising na, ‘Braveheart’!” said Oliver Stone, the presenter for Best Picture, as he opened the envelope and then read out loudly with widened eyes.
The venue was montarily stunned, followed by a wave of commotion. Although soone quickly led an applause, it couldn’t hide the shocked expressions of the people. “Braveheart,” which had basically lost everything, had improbably clinched the most important award of the normal ceremony. That was just absurd! However, after the initial shock, many who understood the rules of the industry quickly ca to terms with it, shaking or nodding their heads.
“The person who thought of this is an idiot.” Adrian, while delivering his acceptance speech and pulling Laverne on stage to represent the production company, muttered under his breath.
In the United States, the Oscars typically have more moderate tastes compared to the Grammys, which could swing widely left or right, so occasionally a form of averaging prevails. Although the award ceremony is fundantally about splitting the cake, and the judges of the Film Academy have always been fairly skilled at this, they occasionally have their confusions.
For example, Adrian was very young, so they simply didn’t award “Braveheart” any prize before, but after all, he was not just any ordinary director; he was one of the elites in Hollywood. So, not giving anything seed unreasonable. Thus, after missing out on many awards, “Braveheart” won Best Picture because the Oscar statuette was for the film company, not for producers or directors.
It was just too obvious; anyone could see that this was compensation for Adrian—unless under very special circumstances, Best Picture and Best Director generally go to the sa movie—and the compensatory award was so significant that, by tomorrow, the dia would inevitably cry foul or mock coldly while producers and directors would probably gossip.
“I have no comnt on that, but I believe ‘Braveheart’ fully deserved to win Best Picture.” After finishing the photo session with the winners, the surrounded Adrian responded this way, knowing from the journalists’ eager faces that his guess was correct; tomorrow’s newspapers would definitely have so drama.
But what did that have to do with him? The award ceremony was over, and it was ti to do other things.
Unfortunately, Adrian didn’t get a chance to talk with Sophie that evening, following the tradition of the past two years, he had to attend Vanity Fair’s Oscar Night party after the ceremony. The party was lively, with Nicholas Cage beaming and laughing with everyone he t, and Tim Robbins and Susan Sarandon jubilantly celebrating their wins—a sea of dazzling celebrities, clearly showing Vanity Fair had mastered the art of hosting.
Because of “Braveheart’s” win for Best Picture, Adrian was often teased at the party, everyone saying he truly was the Miracle Director, a miracle almost unheard of before.
“It’s better to have fewer of such miracles.” Faced with these jokes, Adrian could only shrug his shoulders and silently mock the Film Academy again in his mind.
He was busy all evening. Other won he knew were attending the Oscars; it hadn’t been appropriate to approach him during the red carpet event, but it was different at the party. So Adrian listened to Gwyneth complaining about Caron’s tyrant ways—her zero wins at the Golden Globes had significantly upset her, hence the grumbling—flirted with Blanchett, and played the interdiary between Monica and Julia, ensuring they, as well as Gwyneth and Blanchett, didn’t co face to face, although from a distance a glance was still exchanged.
To others, he might seem worn out, but Adrian handled everything effortlessly and with enjoynt, though he hadn’t expected that Sophie wouldn’t attend the party at all; she returned directly to her hotel after the ceremony. By the ti he realized, it was already impossible for him to leave. He thought if not today, then tomorrow, but the next day she left Los Angeles for Paris early, just like last ti.
“Really… faster than a rabbit,” Adrian sighed despondently on the phone after hearing the news.
Had it not been for Sophie, he could have brought Gwyneth and Blanchett back with him; he had long anticipated Blanchett’s reaction to another threeso. He temporarily separated Monica and Julia since he planned to make other arrangents during Monica’s compliant phase.
“What’s faster than a rabbit?” Charlize’s voice rang out as she set his coffee and newspaper on the desk.
“Nothing,” shrugged Adrian, then glanced at the newspaper in her hands, things that had visibly been looked over, “What’s it saying?”
“Which part are you referring to?” Charlize asked, standing straight with her hands in front of her.
“Oh, co on, Charli, you know what I’m asking,” Adrian watched as she opened her hands.
“I think you should have read it at ho,” Charlize said nonchalantly and then responded, “Nothing special, they all think the Oscars were unfair.”
Adrian couldn’t help but laugh and shake his head at her ambivalent statent. Thinking the Oscars owed “Braveheart” could be seen as unfair, and thinking they shouldn’t have compensated could also be considered unfair. However, Charlize was right; there was nothing particularly noteworthy in the dia reports.
Just as he had anticipated, there were complaints about “Braveheart.” It was believed that it should have won at least two awards among makeup, score, director, and leading actor.
“The Film Academy seed not too fond of ‘Braveheart,’ so they tried hard to ignore it throughout the award ceremony, yet in the end, they surprisingly awarded it Best Picture. They really are generous. Perhaps the Miracle Director and the ‘Braveheart’ crew should be thankful for this consolation,” he said sarcastically.
Many dia outlets agreed with this view, but if one thought they really sided with ‘Braveheart,’ they were gravely mistaken. As previously ntioned, after every Oscar ceremony, such comntators would erge, only seeking to contradict the Film Academy.
Therefore, compared to the collective dissatisfaction of the English dia towards ‘Braveheart,’ it seed sowhat insufficient.
“Clearly, the Oscars have once again proven their vulgar tastes. I thought they had changed, but when the Best Picture was announced, I realized the Oscars are still the Oscars, unworthy of expectation,” the English dia stated, holding a grudge against the genre and seamlessly mocking ‘Braveheart’ while criticizing the Oscars as usual.
However, many Scots and ordinary English people also agreed with the first perspective; after all, the practice of obtaining ten nominations but winning only one significant award was too obviously compensatory. Fortunately, this topic had been debated once before when the movie was released, so it didn’t cause much of a stir this ti.
Among the critiques, there were those who saw clearly. One columnist from the New York Tis comnted that, even excluding ‘Braveheart,’ ‘The Usual Suspects’ had the potential to win Best Original Screenplay, especially since Adrian had two nominations in this area, and it really shouldn’t have lost.
“It’s pretty clear that Adrian is too young, well below the average age at the Film Academy, and he beca the youngest Best Director last year. It’s humorous yet not surprising that such a situation would arise. In this regard, Adrian truly deserves to be called a creator of miracles.” — John Davis, New York Tis.
“Let them squabble all they want; it’s over anyway,” Adrian said dismissively, “Thanks, Charli.”
“Don’t forget to return Mr. Claude’s call. That’s the first thing you should do,” Charlize reminded.
“Got it,” Adrian nodded, sipping his perfectly warm coffee. He watched as she walked out of the office, her hips accentuated by a tight PL skirt, swaying. Then he picked up the phone again.
“Hey, Ed, congratulations,” Claude’s voice quickly ca through.
“What’s there to congratulate for? Although you’re not very familiar with these things, you should be able to see that. Besides, there are so many analytical articles in today’s newspapers,” Adrian said with a laugh, “Is there sothing you need?”
“Of course, I need a response to last week’s report. I know you’ve been busy, making films and flirting with won, but you still need to oversee these things,” Claude advised.
“Oh, yes, that’s my fault. Charli reminded , but the award ceremony was just around the corner, so it was a bit late,” Adrian said, rifling through his papers with the receiver wedged against his shoulder, “I have no objections, just rember to keep it low-key. Last year’s acquisition of ABC was already high-profile enough.”
“No problem, I’ll be careful.”
“Oh, right, there’s one more thing I need to discuss with you.”
“Oh?” (
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