On January 21, 1996, the 53rd Golden Globe Awards ceremony was held at the Beverly Hilton Hotel. The awards were presented in the form of a formal dinner, making it one of the most important award ceremonies of the season, second only to the Academy Awards. Many people outside the industry often regard the Golden Globes as a precursor to the Oscars.
However, insiders didn’t see it that way. Due to the Academy’s voting rules, the true indicators of the Oscars were guild awards such as the Screen Actors Guild, the Directors Guild, and the Producers Guild. Historical data indicated that those who won these major guild awards were the real Oscar contenders.
The Golden Globes were notoriously biased, with fewer than a hundred judges. While the Oscars were sotis unpredictable, the Golden Globes could be said to only occasionally not be erratic.
Having received many nominations, *Saving Private Ryan* occupied three full tables. At Duke and Tom Hanks’ table, nearby sat Nicolas Cage and the rest of the *Leaving Las Vegas* team, which had dominated the Best Actor race during the awards season.
The Golden Globes were no exception—Nicolas Cage had just won Best Actor in a Drama, beating Tom Hanks.
In Duke’s opinion, Cage’s performance wasn’t necessarily better than Hanks’, but unfortunately, an actor’s role wasn’t the only criterion for winning. Too many external factors influenced the awards.
"Congratulations, Nicolas."
During a performance break, Duke greeted Nicolas Cage at the neighboring table. They exchanged a toast. Duke then glanced to his left, where the *Braveheart* crew sat. l Gibson looked confident, as if the award was already his.
"Don’t worry about it."
Tom Hanks lightly patted Duke on the arm. "You’ll have plenty of opportunities in the future."
"So, you don’t think I’ll win either." Duke smiled at Hanks, "Looks like both of us are going to be disappointed this year."
"Don’t worry," Hanks promised with certainty. "Duke, I’ll vote for you with my Academy ballot."
Hanks was an Oscar voter but not a Golden Globe voter. In fact, many prestigious figures refused to be Golden Globe judges. So had even publicly stated that they were ashad to be associated with them.
One by one, the awards were announced. In a surprise turn, *Sense and Sensibility* beat *Saving Private Ryan* for Best Screenplay, with forr Oscar winner Emma Thompson taking the prize.
Before the next award was announced, Duke glanced over at the *Braveheart* table. Sophie Marceau was chatting and laughing with l Gibson and the others, showing no sign of any tension. The cunning and acting skills of these actresses were truly impressive.
"The next award is a major one—Best Director!"
John Travolta stepped onto the stage. "I’ve always wanted to transition into directing, but no one’s willing to invest in , so I’ve had to stick to acting. Tonight, the nominees are all outstanding directors. Let’s see who they are."
"The nominees are Ang Lee for *Sense and Sensibility*, l Gibson for *Braveheart*, Martin Scorsese for *Casino*, Mike Figgis for *Leaving Las Vegas*, and Duke Rosenberg for *Saving Private Ryan*!"
Although the live cara panned to him, Duke remained calm, smiling without any sign of nerves.
The result was no surprise. John Travolta announced, "And the winner is... l Gibson for *Braveheart*!"
The *Braveheart* crew erupted in cheers. When Duke turned to look, he saw Gibson subtly raise a fist, as if in triumph.
However, the Australian actor-director kept his composure, aware that this was a live broadcast. He didn’t take any further actions and, after receiving his award, gave the usual polite speech.
"No one’s foolish enough to make provocative comnts during a live broadcast," whispered Sofia Coppola to Duke.
"Are you sure you want to go through with it?" she asked. "Are you sure he’ll lose control?"
"I’m not sure," Duke replied, shaking his head. "But it’s worth a try. Even if it fails, it won’t hurt us."
As with other guild awards, *Braveheart* won Best Director, while *Saving Private Ryan* took ho Best Picture. When Tom Cruise, serving as a presenter, announced the result, Robin Grande accepted the award on behalf of the crew—*Saving Private Ryan*’s only trophy of the night.
The result was entirely expected. No one was surprised. In Duke’s view, the Golden Globes were rare in their recent lack of unpredictability.
The 53rd Golden Globe Awards concluded, but most of the guests didn’t leave. Instead, they moved to the Hilton’s Grand Ballroom to attend the after-party, a tradition following every major award ceremony. The *Braveheart* and *Saving Private Ryan* teams were naturally the centers of attention for the congratulations.
Duke left most of the socializing to Robin Grande. He knew his alcohol limits—too much would leave him unable to stand, and if that happened, the spectacle he planned to orchestrate tonight would be impossible.
As the party got underway, more people poured into the ballroom. Alongside actors, directors, and producers, notable journalists, publicists, and agents were also present. Duke spotted editors from several major newspapers and magazines, including Tina Brown from *Vanity Fair*, known for celebrity gossip, and David Feiss, the entertainnt editor from the *Los Angeles Tis*.
This party was a microcosm of Hollywood’s ecosystem—the hum of conversations, toasts, and laughter filled the air, along with the occasional indiscreet discussion.
With his Best Director trophy in hand, l Gibson couldn’t stop smiling. He didn’t care much for the award, but he was still pleased, as it represented yet another victory over Duke Rosenberg in the director category. How many tis had he beaten Duke this awards season? He couldn’t rember, only that he’d thoroughly trounced him in the Best Director race, finally avenging his box-office defeat.
With things looking good, l Gibson was now the frontrunner for the Oscar for Best Director.
"Cheers, l!"
One of his crew mbers ca over to congratulate him, and l was in such high spirits that he accepted every drink offered. Within minutes, he had downed four or five glasses of champagne and wine.
This amount of alcohol was nothing for him, a seasoned drinker. After a few more drinks, he suddenly rembered—what about Best Picture?
Setting down his glass, l looked around and made his way over to Sophie Marceau.
"When are you planning to make your move?" he asked in a low voice.
"Tonight..." Sophie glanced over at Duke. "Don’t you think tonight is the perfect opportunity? At the last party at his house, he showed interest in . If it weren’t for an ergency, we might have already succeeded."
"The sooner, the better!"
l nodded approvingly, and as he turned to leave, Sophie handed him a glass of whiskey. "I haven’t congratulated you yet, l."
"Thanks!"
Clearly pleased with Sophie’s words, l clinked his glass with hers and downed half of it in one gulp.
Sophie smiled approvingly and, grabbing a bottle of whiskey, refilled his glass. Before l could say anything, she clinked her glass against his again. "Here’s to us winning big at the Oscars."
"We’re definitely going to win big!" l said confidently, downing the drink.
He’d had quite a bit to drink, and he’d drunk it quickly, but his mood was excellent. Waving off Sophie, he stepped away and headed to the restroom. When he returned to the ballroom, he instinctively looked toward the *Saving Private Ryan* team. There was Duke Rosenberg, chatting away without a hint of disappointnt at his defeat. l frowned and stopped in his tracks.
Instead of returning to his own group, he headed toward Duke. They had been in a tense rivalry since the film shoot in Ireland, but had never confronted each other directly. Now that l had beaten him, how could he resist flaunting it?
Clearly, the alcohol was affecting l. The part of him that was arrogant and rebellious, usually suppressed by his sober mind, was beginning to surface.
"Duke Rosenberg!"
l marched up to Duke. He wasn’t drunk yet, but his voice was low. "How does it feel to lose?"
"It’s unique!"
Turning his head, Duke first caught a whiff of l’s alcohol-laden breath but didn’t let it show. "I’m experiencing the feeling of defeat that you’ve been living with for more than half a year."
"You..."
Taking a deep breath, l suppressed the anger threatening to flare up. Glancing around at the people watching, he leaned in and quietly said, "All through this awards season, you’ve been beneath . The Oscars will be no different. What you’ve given , I’ll return tenfold!"
"I’ll be waiting for your gift." Duke smiled faintly.
"Pathetic loser!"
With one final cold remark, l turned and walked away, catching Sophie Marceau’s eye from across the room. He quickly signaled to her, and the French actress began to make her way toward Duke.
By the end of the night, everything would change, l thought with a cold sneer.
Elsewhere, Duke nodded to Sophie Marceau, then left his spot and found Tom Cruise nearby.
"Tom, we can begin now!"
....
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