Chapter 850: The Best Times!

"What does the Academy mean by this?"

Martin had barely finished reading the latest news before a strange feeling washed over him. He glanced at the two women in the room and asked, "Are you suggesting that this year's Oscar race is... boring?"

Jolie, who had been skimming through the newspaper, looked up and replied, "It's more than that. It seems like the Oscars aren't capturing people's attention the way they used to. The Academy might be worried."

Aniston, draping a dress over her shoulder, chimed in, "No matter what we do, the Academy seems unsatisfied. Not enough PR, and they're disappointed. Too much PR, and they're still not happy. It's like walking a tightrope."

Martin nodded thoughtfully. "The Oscars just don't hold the same sway they once did. The Academy's Executive Committee probably has data from this year that shows a decline... If that's the case, maybe the PR efforts for the next few Oscars won't be as intense."

Julie sensed that Martin had a plan forming in his mind. She leaned in and asked, "So, what's your next move?"

Martin's eyes lit up as he revealed, "I've got a bet with that damn Leonardo about the Oscars. It's a serious one. The loser will be stuck dealing with a century-old problem for the rest of his life. There's no way I can lose this."

Aniston's eyebrows shot up in surprise. "The Oscar for Best Actor, right?"

"Pretty much," Martin confirmed. "Leo's going for Best Actor, and I'm aiming for Best Director." He paused, then added, "In the entire history of the Oscars, no one has ever won both Best Actor and Best Director. It's been over 80 years, and no one's managed to hold both titles."

Julie's jaw dropped slightly. This was the first time she'd heard Martin mention this. "You want to direct?"

Martin shrugged as if it were the most natural thing in the world. "The script's already done, the lead actress is cast, and we're about to start pre-production."

Julie blinked in surprise and then said with a grin, "You know, I've been thinking about directing too. Maybe give it a shot myself."

"Go for it," Martin encouraged. "You've got everything it takes."

But Aniston was still focused on the matter at hand. She turned back to Martin and asked, "Are you really serious about winning Best Director?"

Martin smiled confidently. "Leo's going to have to handle that century-old problem."

Aniston, however, remained cautious. "That's no small feat."

Julie disagreed, her tone more optimistic. "Off-screen factors play a massive role in the Oscars, and let's be honest, Martin's a master at maneuvering those."

She waved the newspaper in the air. "It's clear from this that the Academy might ease up on PR restrictions in the coming years. That would work in Martin's favor."

Aniston, no stranger to the inner workings of Hollywood, nodded. "If the Academy does loosen its grip on PR, it could be a golden opportunity."

Martin chuckled. "You really believe in me that much?"

Julie shot him a knowing look. "I believe in the resources you have at your disposal and your ability to navigate the off-stage politics. As for your directing skills... well, let's just say they're probably on par with mine."

Martin didn't argue.

Aniston caught on to what Julie was implying. Martin was WMA's top client and had his own production company, with enough capital to be fully independent. If he wanted to, he could assemble a team of seasoned professionals in no time.

As long as Martin had a clear vision for the film and didn't venture too far into uncharted or overly personal territory, all he'd need to do was give the right instructions. His team would execute the shots he envisioned, edit the footage to perfection, and produce the exact film effects he desired.

Even if you have the money to burn, you can still push a movie into production without a fully developed creative concept. WMA has no shortage of clients who operate that way, and they've got the manpower to back it up.

Martin leaned back in his chair, a confident grin on his face. "I've already been in touch with WMA. We're assembling the filming and production team this month. No delays."

Julie glanced at her watch, her expression shifting. "I'm heading to the Middle East this afternoon. I might be there for quite a while. Before I go, though, I expect a few more rounds from you. You owe me that much."

She turned to Aniston with a smirk. "Jenny, I'll need you to push from behind. Make it count."

Aniston, with a mix of playful annoyance and determination, shot back, "I know, I know. I've been working out, and trust me, I'm going all out."

With that, the three of them got down to business.

Martin, like a battering ram, surged forward with unstoppable force, breaking through the barriers with ease.

---

Century City, WMA Headquarters.

In his office, Steven Downton sat across from his agent, Coral, deep in thought.

Coral began, "You've got a solid background, Steven. You were assistant director on Scream, The Hills Have Eyes, Piranha, and Dark Invasion. You know your way around horror thrillers. This new project, Shark's Shallows, is backed by Davis Studio and produced by the legendary Louise Lail. Martin Davis is the production manager and director."

Steven had spent nearly a decade as an assistant director in Hollywood. While his name wasn't known among moviegoers or even widely recognized in the industry, within WMA, he was regarded as the most seasoned hand in horror thrillers.

Selecting the right talent for Martin's project was a no-brainer for Thomas Ryan, one of WMA's senior partners. With thousands of clients to choose from, he knew Steven was the man for the job.

Though Steven had never directed a film on his own, his work as an assistant director was highly praised by every director he had collaborated with.

But it wasn't just Steven who was being tapped for this project. Thomas had already reached out to several key personnel and their agents to ensure the team would be rock-solid.

"Martin as a director?" Steven mused aloud. He still remembered working with Martin on The Hills Have Eyes a decade ago. Back then, Steven was just another member of the assistant director crew, and Martin was the lead actor. They had more than a few interactions, and Steven had seen firsthand what Martin could do.

There was no denying that Martin was a talented actor, with both strong market appeal and a high level of professional discipline.

Coral, unfazed by Steven's curiosity, shrugged. "Good actors often transition into directing. It's a pretty common path in Hollywood."

Steven nodded, not surprised by the move. "What's my position? And the salary?"

"You'll be the first assistant director, mainly helping Martin with set scheduling. The salary is $350,000."

Steven's eyes lit up at the figure. It was more than he had ever been offered before.

He could already anticipate that with his experience, he'd be carrying a significant load on this project. But with that kind of pay, he wasn't about to complain.

"I'm in," Steven said decisively. "Go ahead and negotiate the contract with Davis Studio."

His agent smiled, clearly pleased with the outcome. "A wise choice."

Elsewhere on the same floor, in the bustling office lobby, other agents, less established and still climbing the ranks like Thomas had once been, worked in cramped partitions. The atmosphere buzzed with the energy of deals being made and careers being shaped.

Compared to the average agent, Natasha, who had once served as Thomas's assistant, enjoyed a bit more privilege. She had her own partitioned workspace, a step up in the crowded office, signaling her rising status.

A director in his early thirties, Robert Eggers, sat on a nearby bench, his full beard making him look a decade older. He was waiting for Natasha to call him over, his expression a mix of impatience and uncertainty.

After finishing a conversation with Clara and sending her off with instructions to prepare for her new role, Natasha turned her attention to Robert. She waved him over, "Robert, come on in."

Eggers followed her into the private space, pulling up a small, worn stool before sitting down. His voice was direct, reflecting his impatience, "What's this about, Natasha?"

Without a word, Natasha handed him a form. "Take a look at this job opportunity. If you're interested, I'll handle the negotiations with Davis Studio."

Eggers glanced down at the paper. It was a job listing from Davis Studio, seeking an assistant director for their upcoming project, The Shallows.

His face immediately soured. "I'm aiming to be a director, not an assistant director," he said, his tone edged with frustration.

Natasha fixed him with a steady gaze. "Robert, let's be realistic. So far, you've only directed two experimental short films that you wrote yourself. You've worked as a costume designer on a thriller, and you've been an art designer and assistant director on an animated film."

She leaned in, her voice firm. "Tell me, what exactly gives you the leverage to direct a full-length feature film? What can I present to investors and studios that would convince them to hand you the reins?"

Eggers hesitated, then reached into his briefcase. "I've written a horror thriller script. I'm confident it could become a classic if I'm allowed to direct it."

Natasha sighed, her expression a mix of sympathy and practicality. "I've already submitted your script to the company's internal script library and forwarded it to every production company that might have interest. So far, no one's bitten."

Her tone was blunt but honest. "Hollywood is overflowing with scripts. Every year, countless projects with million-dollar budgets get greenlit, most of them adaptations. Of the original scripts that make it, 90% are written specifically to meet a project's needs."

Eggers frowned, feeling the weight of her words. "But my script isn't just some random story, it's based on real events from before the Salem witch hunts."

Natasha could see he was missing the point. "Robert, you're not listening. Let me explain."

Eggers stroked his beard, taking a deep breath to calm his frustration. "Okay, I'm listening. Go on."

Natasha slapped the job posting down on the table in front of him. "Here's what I'm saying: Take this assistant director role. Show them what you're capable of. You have talent, but you need to prove it on a bigger stage."

She pointed to the name on the form. "This project, The Shallows, is Martin's. I used to be Thomas's assistant, Martin's agent, so I know how he operates. Martin values talent, and if you can impress him, it could open the doors you need."

Eggers sat back, considering her words more carefully this time.

Natasha didn't push him. She knew that in the end, the decision had to be his. Instead, she returned to her other tasks, letting him mull it over in peace.

After a long silence, Eggers finally spoke. "Alright, I'll join the crew."

Natasha nodded, a hint of satisfaction in her eyes. "Good choice. I've already set things in motion. Your interview is next week at Disney Studios. Just show up and do your best."

Eggers scratched at his beard, a trace of doubt creeping back in. "An interview? Do I really need to interview for this?"

Natasha arched an eyebrow and handed him his resume from a drawer. "What do you think? You still need to prove your ability in the interview. It's all part of the process."

Eggers carefully tucked his resume into his bag and nodded firmly. "I will."

Natasha gave him a dismissive wave, signaling the end of their meeting. "We're done for today."

With that, Eggers walked out, making his way to the lobby on the first floor. As he reached the bottom of the stairs, he paused, turning to look at the large poster displayed prominently in the lobby. The figure in the portrait was unmistakable, Martin Davis, the star that WMA proudly showcased.

Eggers glanced down at his resume once more, fully aware that his next task would be to prove himself on Martin's crew. This was his shot, and he couldn't afford to miss.

Upstairs, in the sleek, expansive office reserved for senior partners, Thomas was on the phone, his voice smooth yet commanding as he spoke to the agent of a director of photography.

"Yes, the DP we're considering is Dan Rosteschen," Thomas said, pacing slightly as he talked. "You know him, he was behind the camera for the John Wick series."

Dan Rosteschen was a big name, and with John Wick 3 wrapping up post-production, his photography team was on a well-deserved break. Martin had already reached out to Dan, securing his interest in the project.

Thomas was ticking off a checklist in his mind. The photography department was almost set. Now, it was about locking down other key departments, music, art direction, props, each needing a strong, experienced lead. With Louise Lail, the gold-standard producer, and her reliable assistant on board, the core framework of the crew was coming together.

After several intense meetings between Martin and Louise, they started finalizing the team. By mid-February, contracts were signed with the heads of key departments, including the director's team, the camera crew, the art department, and the props team. The gears were in motion.

Meanwhile, Martin had dispatched the location scouts to find the perfect spots for shooting.

Louise entered the office to find Martin deep in concentration, hunched over his desk, sketching out storyboards. The room was quiet except for the scratch of his carbon pen on paper.

Martin had picked up these skills working under directors like David Fincher and Christopher Nolan, but he knew The Shallows was a far simpler film, nowhere near the complexity of something like Interstellar. That was exactly how he needed it to be. Tackling a massive project right out of the gate would only leave him overwhelmed.

More than half an hour passed before Martin finally set down his pen and stretched, his neck stiff from the focused work. Louise picked up the stack of storyboards, flipping through them with a critical eye. Martin's drawing skills weren't exceptional, but they were clear enough. She saw the outline of a lone woman, her long hair flowing, standing on a buoy signal tower in the middle of the ocean. Below her, the telltale triangular fin of a shark cut through the water.

"I've been grinding away at these storyboards," Martin said, his voice tired but satisfied. "I'm about halfway done."

Louise continued to examine the drawings. "Do you have the whole film mapped out in your mind?"

"Pretty much," Martin replied, moving to the window and gazing out at the city. "Nolan, Chad, Fincher, they all drilled the same thing into me. Before a director starts shooting, he needs a clear vision of the finished film, knowing exactly which shots he wants. Then, it's about unifying the crew under that vision, getting everyone to work toward the same goal."

Louise knew this was Martin's first attempt at directing and decided to be straightforward. "You just focus on the directing. Leave the logistics and all the crew's needs to me."

Martin didn't hesitate. "The insurance, the salaries, vehicles, accommodations, locations, all of that should be in the production team's hands. With you running the show, I feel like the film's chances of success have gone up by at least 20%."

Louise raised an eyebrow, curious. "And what do you think the odds of success are now?"

Martin smiled faintly. "Fifty-fifty."

Louise nodded thoughtfully. "The project's investment is modest, and we've got some backing from overseas. If it fails, it's not the end of the world. We can take the hit."

But she knew Martin well enough to understand that if this film didn't succeed, it might just kill his desire to ever direct again.