America Tycoon: The Wolf of Showbiz

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"Very good, your performances were fantastic!"

Rarely leaving his director's chair, the French director Michel stepped onto the set and said to Kim Carrey, "Your performance is Oscar-worthy, you deserve an Oscar!"

Kim Carrey just smiled and gave no other response.

Michel then turned to co-star Martin, "Kid, trust my judgement, your acting is great."

As the director, Martin didn't have the luxury to remain silent, and braving himself, he said, "Thank you, director, I'll keep working hard."

Kate Winslet's lips almost reached her earlobes at the periphery of the makeshift flea market.

Since the argument that day, she and the director hadn't spoken a word beyond work matters.

Michel also had words of praise for other actors, seemingly using this as a way to express certain feelings.

A film set is just a workplace, afterall, where pushing and shoving each other is all too common.

If someone is comfortable, someone else will be uncomfortable.

Martin returned to the resting area and had just sat down when a chocolate-colored hand reached out to him, its slender fingers holding a cup with a straw, "Martin, would you like some water?"

Martin looked up and saw Rosa, who, perhaps due to being mixed race, didn't look like a typical Black person and thus appeared more beautiful.

"I'm not thirsty, no thank you," he declined.

Rosa was enthusiastic, "Just let me know if you need anything, I'm right next door."

Martin politely said, "Thank you."

This woman had been appearing around him now and then since the day before yesterday.

Robert came in, huffing and puffing with a box of Coke, placing the cans on the table in the resting area.

Martin was about to grab a bottle, but before he could get up, he quickly sat back down.

Although they weren't glass bottles, Robert's Coke...

Robert came over, sat next to Martin wiping sweat, and asked, "Is Rosa still bugging you?"

"I don't have the right to send her away," Martin replied.

"She's into you," said Robert, who had an easy job and was clearly bored, "You could easily ask her out."

Martin shook his head decisively, "Buddy, the free things are the most costly. What do you think she would want if I slept with her?"

Robert wasn't stupid, "If she keeps bothering you, I'll help you out."

"I do need some help with something," Martin said, recalling his conversation with Louise last night. Louise specifically mentioned to him that Michel Gondry was a member of the French directors' clique in Hollywood.

Hollywood has its own undercurrents of power, with the most notable divisions being along national lines.

In the afternoon, the crew had a temporary break in work, and many started leaving the studio one after the other.

The French director Michel had a peculiar habit of taking a big dump in the bathroom before leaving.

A standard fifteen minutes later, Michel came out of the private stall, the sound of flushing following him.

As he walked out, he heard someone talking in the restroom with an Atlanta local accent.

"You're inviting me to dinner at a British restaurant? Does Atlanta have British cuisine? And even if it does, who would eat there?"

"Yes, they even published a 'British Gourmet Guide'?"

"I know," Martin said with sarcastic air, "The legendary guide to garbage classification."

Michel came out and couldn't help but laugh upon hearing this, seeing that it was Martin who spoke, he said, "The English don't know gourmet food."

Martin seemed to argue the point, "London has restaurants ranked among the top ten in the world."

Michel frowned slightly.

Martin changed the subject, "They all serve French cuisine there."

Michel praised him, "Martin, there aren't many Americans with such a clear understanding of cuisine."

"Because I've been poisoned by English food," Martin's face fell, as if recalling a very frightening experience.

Robert, a veteran background artist who was paired with him, stood behind Martin without the slightest hint of discord, his naturally honest and simple appearance adding credibility to Martin's words.

Michel, under continuous work pressure, inquired, "Is there a decent French restaurant in Atlanta?"

Since Martin was there, of course he had done his homework, "Yes, downtown, and they absolutely don't sell the damned British food."

Michel, feeling genuinely pleased for once, said, "Could you, a local, show me the way?"

"It would be my honor," Martin replied.

During dinner, the two talked about the romantic city of Paris, foggy London; the elegant French, and the damn English football hooligans…

Language is an art, and Martin smoothly secured Michel Gondry's private business card and exchanged contact information.

A little earlier, in the president's office of Gray Company...

Benjamin-Calvin, the director, hurried over, stopping Kelly Gray just as she was about to finish work for the day.

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A script lay on Kelly Gray's desk.

"This is something I just finished with a few writers." Which director doesn't have dreams? Benjamin didn't want to make late-night movies for a lifetime, "The creative idea was what you mentioned about Martin lying dead while watching the leading man and woman fall in love."

Kelly was a bit startled, "That was just a joke Martin told me."

Yet Benjamin asserted, "The Ma Zhen role Martin played last time was outstanding. I specifically looked into his background. He works at a male strip club, and I added elements of that to the foundation of the creative idea."

Kelly saw it the new script title was written clear as day: "Zombie Stripper".

After reading a dozen pages or so, she had a rough idea and closed the script, saying, "Ben, it's too costly. Even half a million dollars wouldn't be enough to shoot this script."

Benjamin had made a rough estimate, "It would actually require 800,000 to 1 million dollars."

Kelly automatically ignored the 800,000 dollars and said, "One million dollars, you could shoot at least eight late-night movies with that. Sell them to cable networks, plus DVDs and VHS tapes, and we'd make a sure profit. Investing so much into a single movie is too risky."

Benjamin pleaded his case, "Kelly, we can't keep making low-budget late-night movies forever, right? Don't you want to break into mainstream cinemas? Don't you want the company to really grow and develop?"

Kelly shook her head, "I've struggled in Hollywood before. What percentage of movies in Hollywood turn a profit each year? They can rely on time to recoup costs and accumulate profits, but what about us? If we don't get the million back in half a year, our cash flow will become extremely tight."

There were some things she didn't need to explain to Benjamin, like her interest in General Company's abandoned production workshop.

Benjamin said, "I'm confident this script will be a success."

Since he was the company's meritorious director, Kelly didn't want to reject him outright. After thinking it over, she said, "Make a budget and a planning proposal. I need to think this through very carefully."

Benjamin replied, "I'll try to trim costs as much as possible."

After leaving, he scratched his head incessantly; filmmaking is an art, but at the end of the day, it's a business.

Heading downstairs, Benjamin prepared to go home and ran into the casting director, Lynn.

She was wearing a Warriors championship baseball cap and asked, "How did it go?"

Benjamin summed it up, "The boss asked me for a budget and a planning proposal. She wants to consider everything."

Lynn said, "There's hope."

Benjamin nonchalantly replied, "There is."

They parted ways and got into their cars. Lynn thought for a moment and dialed a number, "Adam, I'll meet you at Black Bar in half an hour. Bring your best stuff."

Adam Smith, who had already gotten home, hung up the phone, opened a hidden compartment on the shelf, took out a plastic bag, and left for the appointment.

...

Kelly left the company and came to a nearby quiet bar, entering a large private room with its own bar.

In the room, apart from Louise and bartender Martin, there was Kate Winslet.

Louise formally introduced Kelly and Kate, "You've never officially met before, but I've known you both for about the same length of time. I met Kelly in '93 and Kate in '95."

Martin prepared four different cocktails and, from across the bar, said to the three women outside, "To our acquaintance."

The four clinked glasses.

Kate Winslet took a sip of the ice-cold Long Island Iced Tea, extra chilled with extra ice, which somewhat alleviated the irritation she had been feeling lately and said, "That sand-sculpture French director, his head is full of shit. Forgive my language, but I just can't help it."

She had been holding it in for a while, "Louise, if it weren't for your sake, I would've made a scene a long time ago, bullied him and forced the crew to change directors."

Martin set down his glass and said, "Then he would trim down the French flag on both sides."

Kate burst into laughter, finding it hilarious.

Kelly, who couldn't distinguish the myriad of European flags, was puzzled, "What do you mean?"

Kate explained with a laugh, "If you cut the blue and red from the sides of the French flag, only the white remains, something the French are best at doing."

Louise looked at Martin sideways, thinking he really was quite a character.

Martin seriously said, "Haven't you heard that no one can occupy Paris before the French surrender!"

Kate raised her glass, "Martin, I must toast to you."

Martin clinked glasses with her, "My pleasure."

Louise still reminded her, "Kate, if you want to use this movie as an Oscar bid, better keep your temper in check, even though he's only in charge of the set filming."

Louise's friend, like herself, harbored a persistent Oscar fixation, "I've been nominated several times, and I've lost every single one."

Kelly asked, "Not enough PR investment?"

Kate shook her head, "Those old guys think I'm too young?"

Martin interjected, "I'm an outsider, may I offer my opinion?"

Kate clinked glasses with him again, "Of course."

Martin thought for a moment and said, "The main issue is that your looks are too striking, Kate. It's easy for people to overlook your acting. Looking at the Oscars list for the past decade or so, how should I put it?"

His tone slowed, his voice deepened, "It's a game where many women vote and only those who become freaks or lunatics can win."

The remark made all three women laugh at the same time.

Kate Winslet grabbed the bottle of liquor, filled her glass, "Martin, you're making a lot of sense. On behalf of all the beautiful women targeted by the Oscars, I'd like to drink with you."