Chapter 723: The Problem with Oscars

In the elegant halls of the Hilton Hotel in Beverly Hills, the atmosphere was electric with the buzz of the Oscar night party. Martin, basking in the glow of his recent win, found himself surrounded by well-wishers and admirers.

Amidst the clinking of glasses and animated conversations, Leonardo raised his glass in a toast. "Here's to Martin, the victor of the Best Actor Oscar! Congratulations!"

Mene, one of Martin's closest associates, couldn't contain his excitement. "Boss, you did it! Congratulations!"

Graciously accepting the praise, Martin lifted his glass and took a sip. "Thank you, everyone! I'll be heading home later. Elizabeth's already there, getting things ready for our celebration. And I've brought along some exceptional wine."

The crowd erupted in cheers and applause, sharing in Martin's joy.

Leonardo, ever the jovial companion, slung his arm around Martin and Nicholson, jesting, "Looks like we're the kings of the Oscars now, eh?"

Martin grinned, feeling the weight of his achievement lift with each passing moment.

Nicholson, always the provocateur, interjected with a playful challenge. "So, gentlemen, here's a riddle for you: between the three of us, boasting six Oscars, how many does each of us have?"

Turning to Leonardo with a smirk, Martin teased, "Leo, you're the math whiz. Care to solve this one?"

Leonardo shot Martin a mock glare. "Why am I always the designated mathematician?"

With a twinkle in his eye, Martin quipped, "Because I, my friend, am Martin Goldbach, the mathematician extraordinaire."

Before the banter could continue, Mene interjected, reminding them of Tom Sherak's presence.

Respecting the authority of the college president, the group quickly shifted gears, exchanging pleasantries with Tom Sherak as he approached.

"Congratulations on your Oscar win, Martin," Tom remarked warmly.

"Thank you, Tom," Martin replied graciously. "I'm truly honored by the recognition from the Academy."

Tom's gaze lingered on Martin, a hint of admiration in his eyes. "If you ever consider joining the executive committee, I'd love to have a chat."

Martin nodded appreciatively. "I'll keep that in mind."

As Tom made his exit, his assistant approached with news of the evening's ratings.

"How did we do?" Tom inquired eagerly.

"The peak audience reached 39.4 million during the Best Actor award segment," the assistant reported. "That's a 1.4 million increase from last year."

Tom couldn't hide his satisfaction. "Martin Davis's star power and influence are undeniable. Tonight was a triumph for the Oscars."

Last year, the peak viewership during the Oscars coincided with Leonardo's Best Actor win.

However, the assistant's demeanor shifted as he delivered less favorable news. "Unfortunately, the average viewership for this year's ceremony was 31.4 million, down by 1.2 million from last year."

His tone turned somber. "To make matters worse, the Grammys surpassed the Oscars in average viewership this year."

Tom Sherak's expression soured. Once a stalwart among the major award ceremonies, the Oscars now found themselves overshadowed by the Grammys.

The news spread quickly among those in the know, casting a shadow over the evening's celebrations.

Nicholson couldn't help but express his dismay. "A decade ago, who would've imagined the Oscars trailing behind the Grammys?"

He glanced at Martin and Leonardo. "You two have been the saving grace of these past two ceremonies. Your influence and appeal draw in the largest audiences during the pivotal moments."

Leonardo acknowledged the truth of the matter. "The films nominated for major awards often cater to niche audiences."

Martin concurred, gesturing towards Nicholson. "Many of these films prioritize critical acclaim over broad appeal."

Nicholson nodded in agreement. "Today's Oscars often feel like a showcase for niche artistry rather than a celebration of popular cinema."

Martin added a critical observation. "The Academy's predominantly older, white male demographic tends to favor films rooted in nostalgia and homage."

He singled out Harvey Weinstein as a prime example of this trend.

In both recent ceremonies, Martin noted a prevalence of films steeped in nostalgia to an extreme degree.

"A black and white silent film winning Best Picture in the 2010s—can you believe it?" he remarked incredulously.

Turning to Martin, Leonardo posed a question. "Could you, as chairman of the executive committee, alter this trajectory?"

Martin shook his head ruefully. "Not without significant changes to the judging panel. And many of those judges are our friends and collaborators."

Nicholson chimed in, his tone resigned yet insightful. "The root of the issue is clear to anyone with discerning eyes."

In a private conversation with his two closest friends, Martin voiced his concerns without reservation. "The rise of entertainment mediums like video games has diminished the prominence of movies. They've become the primary form of entertainment for teenagers. If the Oscars don't adapt to the changing landscape and cater to the needs of younger audiences, they'll become increasingly irrelevant, fading into obscurity."

In Martin's estimation, the Oscars were already faltering and would only worsen in the coming years as they continued down a niche path after the decline of the old white male demographic.

After indulging in a few drinks, Martin excused himself to visit the bathroom.

Upon exiting, he was approached by a middle-aged man who greeted him warmly. "Hello, Martin."

Though Martin didn't recognize the man, he returned the greeting with a polite smile. "Hello."

The man, eager to seize the opportunity for self-promotion, revealed that he had an Oscar night ticket and took the chance to introduce himself. "I'm Denis Villeneuve, a screenwriter and director from Canada."

Aware of the need to capture Martin's interest quickly, Villeneuve wasted no time in stating his credentials. "I directed 'Incendies,' which was nominated for Best Foreign Language Film."

Though Martin hadn't seen the movie, the title piqued his interest, given the recent Oscars ceremony.

Seeing an opportunity to pitch his project, Villeneuve approached Martin directly. "Martin, do you have a moment to discuss a potential new movie project?"

Martin nodded, gesturing towards a quieter spot nearby. "Let's chat over there."

As they settled into their seats, Villeneuve wasted no time in explaining his situation. "A friend and I have written a script about drug control on the US-Mexico border. We've pitched it to several companies, but haven't had much luck. However, meeting you tonight might just change our fortunes."

Villeneuve had faced his fair share of challenges as a director. Despite being nominated for Best Foreign Language Film, the journey to bring "Incendies" to the screen had been fraught with obstacles. From multiple rejections by producers to struggles with funding, it had taken over eight years for the film to see the light of day in Canada.

With ambitions beyond what Albatross Pictures could offer, Villeneuve was determined to find new avenues for his projects, no longer willing to settle for limitations in funding and resources.

Martin, accustomed to such encounters, extended his hand and inquired, "Do you have the script with you?"

Villeneuve nodded and reached into his bag, producing a portion of the printed manuscript and placing it on the table alongside his business card. "This is the beginning. The rest of the script is with a friend of mine. If you're interested, I can arrange for you to see it."

Accepting the script, Martin assured him, "I'll give it a thorough read and provide you with a clear answer, whether it fits our studio's vision or not. But tonight isn't the time for that."

Villeneuve expressed his gratitude, understanding the situation. "Of course, I appreciate your consideration."

As Martin rejoined Leonardo, Nicholson, and the others, he passed the script and business card to Bruce, who stowed them away safely. Glancing at the time, Martin announced, "Let's continue the celebration at my place. Mene, empty out the wine cellar."

Mene grinned eagerly. "Consider it done, boss!"

Leonardo gave him a thumbs up. "You're the best, Mene."

At Davis Manor, nestled in the North District of Sunset Boulevard, the group was greeted by a swarm of paparazzi, eager to capture every moment of the celebration.

Despite their inability to enter the gated community, the reporters persisted in snapping photos, hoping to catch a glimpse of Hollywood's elite.

While Leonardo had undergone a dramatic physical transformation to secure his Oscar win, Martin's success seemed to come effortlessly, thanks to his acclaimed science fiction film.

As the festivities commenced, guests began to arrive, including Charlize Theron and the Stewart family from next door.

Lily, a familiar face from Martin's past, approached him with playful banter. "Congratulations, Martin! Can you believe you're an Oscar winner now? I remember when you joked about making it in Hollywood back in Atlanta."

Martin chuckled, reciprocating her embrace. "You played a part in this too, Lily. Your skepticism pushed me to prove myself."

With a playful swat, Lily teased, "Sure, sure. I'll believe it when pigs fly."

Noticing the unique adornment in Lily's hair, Martin couldn't help but ask, "What's with the interesting accessory?"

Grinning mischievously, Lily replied, "I'll tell you later. It's a secret."

Elizabeth intervened, signaling to Martin. "The guests are waiting for you."

Taking the wine glass from her, Martin headed to the banquet hall, raising a toast to the gathered crowd.

Saoirse Ronan rallied the non-drinking guests, leading them outside to set off fireworks. As the night sky illuminated with bursts of color, the celebration at Davis Manor continued in full swing.