[Chapter 833: Potholes Everywhere]
Hollywood buzzed with excitent those days as it celebrated a century of filmmaking. However, not everything was harmonious. The hefty producer Harvey found himself in hot water, faced with a perplexing group clamoring for the discontinuation of a certain film.
In contrast, William White enjoyed a comfortable life, completely unbothered by such drama. Harvey's film was starting to lose steam at the box office after a brief resurgence. While alternative communities thrived in Arica, traditionalists still made up the majority, often reluctant to voice their opinions.
According to William White, he might not support the actions of the protestors, but he wouldn't interfere with their choices. "Everyone has the right to choose," he had maintained.
The essence of discourse varied greatly, as the sa ssage could relay drastically different implications to the outside world.
"William, it's quite lively these days. Why can't you just show a little support? Look at , I've openly declared my backing," Lucas said, grinning and sporting a sowhat unsavory expression. William felt a surge of frustration. He had already given Lucas more grace than he deserved--if it were his own son acting like this, he would have had no qualms about punishing him.
"George, that's just kicking soone when they're down. Those idiots are truly sensitive. They're not aiming to convey that ssage."
Lucas chuckled heartily. "Besides, regardless of your orientation, coercion doesn't sit right. The scriptwriter aid to send a strong ssage to the mob boss, and he succeeded."
"Indeed, it's still a good movie, but it's unfortunate that it crossed paths with Forrest Gump. That just spells disaster for the fat guy," Lucas laughed exuberantly. In fact, the misfortunes of newcors brought the industry veterans a certain joy. Hollywood operated like a big pot--if one person took a bigger share, others went without.
"Lucas, think this through. This disaster film requires at least a hundred million in investnt. Profit isn't guaranteed," William cautioned.
"Co on, don't be like that. The script sparked so ideas. I'll take the lead as producer," Lucas replied confidently.
"Alright, then prepare yourself. I'll need so actual launch footage from the two shuttle missions," William conceded, understanding that he had no valid reason to reject Lucas's involvent. Hollywood worked that way--having connections was crucial.
Given their positions, they couldn't behave the sa way as before. Going it alone led to resentnt, and strained relationships certainly didn't yield good results. Looking at the Hollywood landscape of that ti, it was evident that the industry mingled pleasantly with tech giants. Those holding Apple devices in TV shows or movies usually played the heroes, while Tesla drivers often portrayed the good guys as well.
Sponsorship was only one aspect; more importantly was the unspoken understanding established behind the scenes. Quietly, European or Asian products often ended up heavily criticized.
The box office receipts didn't matter much to William these days. Maintaining good relations within his circle was what truly mattered.
"Harvey, I think it's ti you learned a thing or two from William White. This situation can't continue; if they push any further, the Oscars will feel the ripple effect."
"Sure thing, boss. I'll send soone to talk to the paparazzi. A little give-and-take should calm things down."
The head of Warner was also feeling overwheld. Though he was satisfied with the performance of his film, the producer's antics had gotten out of hand. Despite his unsavoriness, Harvey knew how to navigate the industry's old guard. In less than a month, his film was announced as a nominee.
As for awards, it was truly a matter of luck. To offend William White for a little golden statue hardly seed worth the risk.
William White's evolution hadn't gone unnoticed among Hollywood's bigwigs. It appeared that keeping things amicable was preferable to provoking one another.
Harvey's strong personality didn't help matters; his interactions with the press left much to be desired. Did he really believe he could navigate this world without recognizing their tendencies?
If one were in William White's position, it wouldn't matter much anyway. No one dared to cross him, and he wouldn't use the dia to undermine others.
Yet, Hollywood was tougher now than ever. Everyone seed desperate for attention.
An eight-million-dollar budget that produced this level of quality left a lasting impression.
"By the way, Harvey, avoid clashing with those delicate folks; tell them it's to punish the mob boss. For crying out loud, you shouldn't have cast an African Arican lead," he ordered.
"Uh, boss, the film doesn't have any clear protagonists. Everyone in it is a jerk; I can't exactly shuffle roles around," Harvey stamred.
"Forget it. Just oust the negativity pronto. By the way, have Quentin co by my office."
"Sure thing, boss. I'll head over right now."
That's just how Hollywood operated--every film was expected to include an African Arican character, though it wasn't a strict rule. Yet, it was wise to comply.
If the portrayal was negative, it needed to be balanced by a noble character. Otherwise, accusations of racism would abound.
Why was it that Asian characters hardly changed? It was either supermarket owners or restaurant workers.
That was a different conversation, but there were plenty of unflattering roles for various backgrounds. The unfortunate reality was that the loudest complaints carried more weight.
If an uproar erupted in Los Angeles, Aricans would rethink their policies--tightening immigration regulations or making adjustnts to tackle the situation.
If anyone believed the social status of African Aricans had significantly improved, they were gravely mistaken. Violence, chaos, poverty, those were their labels. Discrimination hadn't diminished; it had simply beco more subtle.
In the world, nowhere was racial discrimination more severe than in Arica. The Chinese people, despite their casual words, didn't have the sa deep-rooted biases. So long as they weren't disturbed in their lives, they were content.
In Arica, their stance against discrimination had devolved into re formalities.
One would notice an odd phenonon among the so-called elite-- their social circles always included a token mber from another ethnicity. They fashioned this into a standard; it beca a way to showcase their "progressiveness."
Did that an discrimination had vanished? Not a chance; having a handful of friends didn't change the reality.
Aricans traveling to China found it astonishing that people could dine out freely at night on foot.
Goodness, that was practically unimaginable back in Arica. After dark, it was best to remain indoors. As for what they saw on television, those stories were entirely fictional.
Compared to this, life in Australia was easier, perhaps because of the space and population density. Coming across soone was still a delight, not like the gun-fueled chaos of Arica.
Aricans were interesting, permitting gun ownership freely, with Afghanistan being the only other nation that mirrored this. Logically, one would think they should communicate, if not buddy up, at least they shouldn't be at each other's throats.
"Lisa, have the legal departnt draft a set of guidelines. Emphasize that issues concerning religion, race, gender, and sexual orientation must all be avoided."
"Understood, boss. Is there anything else to consider?"
"Through the White Foundation, donate five hundred thousand to won's rights groups. Also, fifty thousand each to environntal and animal welfare organizations."
"Got it, boss."
*****
spatreon/Sayonara816.
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