[GodOfReader: Sike]
The stretched limousine stopped at the red carpet entrance. The mont the door opened, Nicole Kidman could feel the searing heat of the atmosphere from the noise rushing into her ears.
She stepped out, and the instant Nicole appeared, tall and poised in a sea-blue silk evening gown, shouts erupted from the fans lining both sides of the carpet.
"Nicole!"
"Mia!"
Nicole was her na. Mia was her character in Pulp Fiction.
Clearly, more than a year later, fans still hadn't forgotten her performance in that film, and Mia had beco her most recognizable role.
For an actress to have a role people rember is a rare kind of luck.
For an actress to be rembered for only one role is a rare kind of misfortune.
Nicole was grateful that at twenty she already had a role people rembered, but she had no desire for her career to stop at Pulp Fiction.
With a polished smile, she floated down the carpet, paused briefly in the dia area for photos, then quickly entered the Shrine Civic Auditorium.
Every step had been arranged in advance.
Today belonged to Batman. This wasn't the ti to linger with fans and steal attention. Not that she thought she could steal much attention anyway.
Unlike ordinary moviegoers lucky enough to score invitations, guests didn't go straight into the screening hall after arriving. They were guided backstage first.
Nicole followed staff into the backstage lounge area. Simon Westeros still hadn't arrived, but the place was already buzzing.
Moving smoothly through the crowd, exchanging greetings with guests, Nicole glanced around without aning to, and suddenly she felt the shape of a dazzling, envy-inducing web of connections.
In a lounge already packed with over a hundred people, it truly felt like half of Hollywood had gathered in one room.
Brian De Palma, Robert Redford, Robert De Niro, Martin Scorsese, the old guard. Sandra Bullock, Matt Dillon, Julia Roberts, Keanu Reeves, the rising new wave. Kevin Costner, l Gibson, Bruce Willis, Demi Moore, John Travolta, lanie Griffith, the backbone of the industry. Famous critics like Roger Ebert. Executives from Daenerys Entertainnt, Warner Bros., and other studios who had co to show support.
A lineup like this was usually sothing only the Oscars could assemble.
Yet now all of them had shown up for a single film premiere. Even the most celebrated figures from a few years ago, people like George Lucas and Steven Spielberg, hadn't had this kind of pull.
While she was still lost in that thought, a stir broke out at the lounge entrance.
Nicole turned her head. Simon Westeros and his girlfriend had arrived, and the crowd naturally flowed toward them.
Nicole lifted her skirt and went over as well. After waiting quite a while, the only thing she got was a chance to catch Simon's eye and receive a small nod. In a place like this, she was nothing more than a tiny, forgettable minnow, even if she'd earned a few cheers on the red carpet monts ago.
Right after that, the rest of Batman's key creative team arrived backstage, bringing the red carpet to its final stretch.
Simon, with Janet on his arm, followed Jennifer's guidance, Jennifer held a mo in hand, and made the rounds, greeting all the important guests. By the ti he finished, it was nearly seven.
Staff began leading everyone into the screening hall, and Simon finally let out a brief breath.
He was tucked in a corner, chatting casually with the Batman team, when his assistant brought over a woman in a red dress who looked a little stiff with nerves. Simon took one look at her and smiled.
"Lisa. Long ti no see."
Lisa Collins had traveled all the way from the East Coast for the premiere, naturally through Jennifer's connections. She'd hounded her best friend for ages before finally getting a chance to et Westeros again. Now that she was here, she couldn't help feeling uneasy. Compared to their first eting, he was no longer the boy who'd just begun to shine at Sundance. He was a different world entirely.
But when Simon spoke her na so easily, Lisa Collins relaxed for no clear reason at all. She stepped forward and hugged him. She'd always been lively by nature, and now she loosened up even more. When they embraced, she deliberately lingered against his chest for two extra seconds before finally letting go. Under Jennifer's helpless eye-roll, Lisa grinned.
"Simon, I can't believe you still rember ."
"Of course I do. You're an amazing skier. Maybe we'll get a chance to go again soti."
"Deal. I'm holding you to that," Lisa said, then casually pointed at a young man who had co with her. "This is Frank, my boyfriend."
Frank stepped up and shook Simon's hand. He tried hard to look natural, but the mont he opened his mouth, it all spilled out.
"Mr. Westeros, hello. I'm Frank, um, Walken, Frank Walken. I work at Blackstone Group. It's a pleasure, it's a pleasure to et you."
"Blackstone Group. I know it. A company with a lot of potential in rgers and acquisitions."
"Actually, we're not only doing M and A now..." Frank started, but Lisa tugged him away.
"Alright. Nobody wants to hear you introduce your company."
Everyone laughed. Frank Walken looked embarrassed and obediently stayed by his girlfriend's side.
A staff mber ca to remind them the ti had co, and Simon's last group entered the screening hall.
The dia Q and A would be after the film. Simon and his team took their seats. Billy Crystal, the host, went onstage and gave a brief introduction. Then the lights dimd. A beam of light cut over the sea of heads and struck the massive screen, and the entire room's attention snapped into place.
Months of relentless promotion, plus all the whispers in the industry about the film's details, had piled everyone's curiosity to its peak.
Of the more than 1,200 people attending tonight's premiere, even the Hollywood heavyweights, aside from a small handful who'd co to build goodwill, were here for one reason: to be the first to see Simon Westeros's new film.
On the big screen, Warner Bros.' animated logo appeared first, followed by Daenerys Pictures' lavish phoenix ident.
Since distribution had gone to Warner, Danerys Entertainnt hadn't fought over little details like this.
After DC's logo, the screen abruptly went black.
The sound system carried the noise of so kind of door opening. A mont later, two doors yanked apart with a clatter. Lights snapped on, revealing the inside of a shipping container. Wooden crates were stacked in neat rows, each marked with different labels. Soone stepped forward to inspect them, and it turned out to be crates of weapons.
The cara pulled back, widening from small to large, revealing a busy port at the docks.
With background chatter from the extras, the audience quickly understood what was happening. An arms smuggling operation.
The atmosphere was well-built, and the cara work was solid, but the critics who'd been anticipating this for over half a year instinctively felt the opening was a little ordinary. Most of them could even imagine what would happen next.
After several dozen seconds of setup, the scene landed on two gangsters patrolling the periter.
The two goons walked through a corridor ford by containers. Suddenly, a flock of bats burst overhead, startling both of them. One watched the bats vanish into the light and said to the other, "Hey, you hear about those things lately?"
"What?"
"A bat," the first man said. "A big bat."
"That thing with Scarecrow's factory, wasn't that the cops?"
"No. They say it was a really big bat."
The other goon, irritated by how jumpy his partner was, lifted his head and scanned the area. "What big bat are you even..."
He stopped mid-sentence, as if soone had clamped his throat shut.
Seeing his expression, the first man looked up too. On a crane more than ten ters high, a figure seed to be standing there. It was hard to believe anyone would be in such a dangerous place in the middle of the night. The gooner spoke in disbelief.
"What is that?"
As the words fell, the cara cut.
In a wide shot, at the very top of the towering crane, a silhouette stood under moonlight and harsh lamps, a black cape hanging from his shoulders, a mask with pointed ears carved against the night.
Music kicked in, carrying a drumbeat like a heartbeat on the verge of combat. The figure realized he'd been spotted, dipped slightly as if coiling, then leapt straight down from the crane.
In the screening hall, a few unprepared audience mbers let out a gasp.
Even if everyone knew it was Batman, jumping from that high up was insane. Could anyone survive that?
The thought had barely ford when the cape snapped open behind him, spreading into the shape of a giant bat. It didn't slow his fall much. In a blink he hit the ground, and using the force of the descent, he dropped the two stunned goons with clean, decisive blows.
While the audience was still savoring the sheer thrill of that seamless high-fall shot, the figure didn't pause. He planted a foot, vaulted up onto the top of a container, and surged toward the busy crowd like a ghost.
Then it happened.
Following a route that felt planned, he cleared the outer sentries like an assassin, pushing inward toward the core. The music tightened. Soone spotted him. The crowd erupted into chaos. Blows landed with crisp brutality. The figure flowed through leaps and vaults, closing in like sothing unreal. Guns were ripped apart and shattered in passing. A body flew. Another shadow vaulted into the air.
Gunfire, shouting, fists and feet, grenades exploding.
A fight that lasted more than four minutes.
One continuous breath.
Violent and exhilarating.
In the ti it took to blink, the entire dock was wrecked.
When a small-ti boss was beaten down in a one-on-one that was never in doubt, he scrabbled for a handgun and forced himself upright. Face twisted, he pointed the gun at the figure across from him.
"You... what... are you?"
Facing the muzzle, the figure finally spoke, his voice low, distorted, rough with nace.
"Batman."
As he said it, a cold flash streaked through the air, striking the gun from the man's hand. With a sharp tallic clang, it pinned into the side of a nearby container.
The cara pushed in and froze on the matte-black bat-shaped blade.
The image slowly expanded, rotated, the music shifted, and the title appeared across the screen.
Batman.
The opening credits began.
Inside the screening hall, after that five-minute prologue, everyone finally breathed out.
"That was cool."
A voice even rose over the opening music, abruptly loud.
Yet no one in the room felt annoyed, because everyone was thinking the sa thing.
It was cool. Too cool.
Batman's entrance, that clean, continuous leap from the crane, had already hit many viewers with a jolt of awe. Just that single shot made them feel, with absolute certainty, Yes. This is Batman. This is what he should look like.
And the fight choreography that followed completely overturned a lot of people's understanding of Hollywood action movies.
So this was how combat could look, powerful and decisive.
So this was how ripping a gun away and breaking it could look, and still be stylish.
So this was how you could respond to a grenade.
So this was how one against many could look, unstoppable, inevitable, and sohow perfectly natural.
This was Batman.
And if these shots, these sequences dialed to the limit of cool, were already in the prologue, weren't they supposed to be saved for the final climax?
If they'd used them here, then what on earth was coming next?
With that thought, the anticipation in the hall rose another level.
Experts saw more than spectacle.
Compared to ordinary fans, many filmmakers in the audience saw sothing unprecedented in those few minutes, a string of innovations in technique.
So could barely suppress their curiosity and excitent. Just the shot of Batman leaping from the crane had already set directors and cinematographers turning it over in their minds, trying to figure out how it had been done. The action design made people like l Gibson and Kevin Costner, stars who'd made action films themselves, itch with envy.
If their movies could have action designed at that level, what would that an?
Their reactions weren't surprising at all.
During the months-long pre-production, Simon had drawn from the best of the best in classic Hollywood action films he rembered, refining those essentials as a standard. The action here was more mature than the choreography that would later spark an action revolution with films like The Matrix and Rush Hour in the 1990s. It was as if Hollywood action had been dragged straight from the 1980s into a style more than twenty years ahead of its ti. No wonder it stunned everyone.
And the short prologue had also used several technical innovations.
The shot of Batman diving from that height was entirely CG. Simon had considered trying it with live-action stunt work, but the danger level was simply too high. In the end, he handed the sequence to Daenery's effects team.
After more than a year of technical breakthroughs, enormous amounts of simulated physics calculations, and countless refinents to detail, plus the cover of the night setting, they had finally achieved an illusion convincing enough to satisfy Simon.
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