Chapter 852: Oscar Shortcut

As the lights dimmed and the first award of the night was announced, there was a collective breath held among the audience. Martin and his companions exchanged knowing glances. Just as they had anticipated, the award for Best Supporting Actress went to the outspoken, dynamic performer who had captivated audiences with her role in "12 Years a Slave." The energy in the room was palpable as she took the stage to accept her Oscar, setting the tone for what would be an electrifying night.

From the front row, Jennifer Aniston turned and winked at Martin, a playful glint in her eye. "Looks like Plan B is off to a strong start," she whispered, referring to the production company behind the critically acclaimed film. Martin responded with a nod, a subtle smile playing on his lips. The night was young, but the competition was already heating up.

Next, the spotlight shifted to the fierce rivalry between "Gravity" and "La La Land," two films that had dominated conversations in the weeks leading up to the Oscars. As expected, the technical categories became a battleground, with "Gravity" sweeping most of the awards for stunts and visual effects. The audience marveled at the film's groundbreaking achievements in these areas, while "La La Land" dazzled with its artistic brilliance, capturing awards for set design and costume.

Despite the excitement, there was a sense among the industry insiders that this year's Oscars lacked the punch of previous years. The field of truly competitive films was thin, and this was reflected in the predictable distribution of awards.

When "La La Land" clinched the awards for Best Editing and Best Original Screenplay, Martin leaned back in his seat, feeling a quiet confidence settle over him. It was almost certain now: Best Picture was theirs. The room buzzed with anticipation as the final major awards of the night were handed out, each going to a different deserving recipient. Leonardo DiCaprio, despite a compelling performance, saw the Best Actor award slip away to Matthew McConaughey, while the Best Director honor was claimed by Alfonso Cuarón for his masterful work on "Gravity."

The moment of truth arrived. Will Smith took the stage, his voice commanding the attention of the entire room as he announced the winner of the coveted Best Picture award. "La La Land" echoed through the auditorium, and the room erupted in applause. Martin and Louise, beaming with pride, gestured for the entire crew to join them on stage to share in the glory of the moment. As the applause thundered around them, Martin graciously stepped aside, allowing Louise to deliver the acceptance speech that would forever be etched in Oscar history.

Half an hour later, the celebration had only just begun. The entire "La La Land" team had relocated to the Beverly Hills Hilton, where the "Oscar Night" party was in full swing. Laughter and champagne flowed freely as the reality of their victory began to sink in. Director Damien Chazelle was practically glowing, his smile as bright as the gold statuette they had just won. Despite missing out on Best Director, his film had taken home the night's top honor, forever altering the trajectory of his career.

Spotting Martin across the room, Damien raised his glass and made his way over. "Martin," he said, clinking his glass against Martin's, "here's to you. Thank you for believing in me."

Martin returned the smile, his tone warm but firm. "We make each other successful, Damien."

The two shared a moment of mutual respect before Damien was swept away by another round of congratulations. As the night wore on, Martin found himself finally with a moment to breathe. He was soon approached by Saoirse Ronan, who handed him a glass of wine with a sheepish grin. "Teacher," she began, using the affectionate term she had for him, "I'm not old enough to drink in public yet."

Martin chuckled, accepting the glass. He patted her on the shoulder gently, a gesture both encouraging and paternal. "You did great tonight. Keep pushing forward, and that Oscar for Best Actress will be yours someday soon."

Her eyes sparkled with the promise of future triumphs. "I won't let you down, I promise." She hesitated, glancing around nervously before leaning in closer. "There's something I need to talk to you about... but it's not something to discuss here."

Martin gave her a knowing nod. "When you leave, ride with me."

Her face lit up, excitement bubbling just beneath the surface. "Does that mean I can go with you tonight?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

Martin considered for a moment before replying, "We'll go to the Ritz-Carlton."

Saoirse smiled, reassured. But before she could say more, Jennifer Aniston approached, her presence commanding attention. Sensing the shift, Saoirse excused herself with a quick, "I'll catch you later, Teacher," before slipping away.

Aniston greeted Martin with a warm embrace. "Congratulations on Best Picture," she said, her tone light but genuine.

Martin, never one to mince words, responded with a teasing grin. "Do I need to pay billions to make you happy again?"

Aniston's eyes sparkled with mischief as she shot back, "Billions? I'm thinking more like hundreds of billions!"

The two laughed, the easy camaraderie between them a testament to years of shared experiences in the unpredictable world of Hollywood. As the night wore on, they, like everyone else, basked in the afterglow of a night that would be remembered for years to come.

Even Martin couldn't help but feel a twinge of tension in his legs when he heard her suggestive comment, but he quickly reminded himself that Jolie and Aniston had just been defeated. With a sly grin, he replied, "If you want it, I can give it to you anytime, anywhere."

Aniston rolled her eyes playfully but then pulled Martin to sit down beside her, the teasing tone fading as she got serious. "Enough joking," she said, her voice more measured. "I recently came across a script that caught my attention. It's got Oscar potential written all over it, but you know the Oscars far better than I do. I could really use your thoughts on this."

Normally, Martin would have brushed off such a request, but Aniston was different. Their relationship went beyond casual acquaintances; there was a deeper connection, a mutual understanding that made him more inclined to help.

He signaled a waiter and ordered two glasses of juice, waiting until the room cleared a bit before turning back to her. "Alright, tell me about this project," he said, leaning in with interest.

Aniston didn't hesitate. "It's a film centered on the Black experience, written by Barry Jenkins. You might not know him, he's the writer and director behind a lesser-known sci-fi drama, 'Future State.'"

Martin furrowed his brow slightly, shaking his head. "Barry Jenkins? Doesn't ring a bell."

"He's not well-known yet," Aniston conceded. "He's only directed one movie so far. But this script of his, it's powerful. It's a coming-of-age story about a Black boy growing up in Miami."

A slow smile spread across Martin's face. "Let me guess, it's packed with every Oscar-bait theme in the book, right?"

Aniston laughed softly, knowing exactly what he meant. "Pretty much. The protagonist is from a Black single-parent household. His mother is a drug addict who neglects and abuses him. He's bullied at school, and he gets mixed up with gang members."

She paused, clearly impressed by Jenkins' sharp, insightful writing. "As the story unfolds, the boy begins to realize he's gay. But he's surrounded by homophobia and violence, and he has to leave his hometown to survive. The rest of the film follows his journey toward self-acceptance, culminating in him embracing who he is despite the prejudices around him."

Martin leaned back, contemplating. "So we're talking about a film that hits all the critical buttons: race, single parenthood, poverty, gangs, drugs, bullying, homosexuality, and the redemption arc of a prodigal son. That's a potent mix."

Aniston nodded, sharing his assessment. "Exactly. It's like a checklist of everything that could resonate with Oscar voters."

Martin thought for a moment before asking, "Does it have a title yet?"

"Moonlight," Aniston replied. "That's the working title for now. Whether it sticks will depend on how negotiations go with Barry Jenkins."

The mention of "Moonlight" triggered a memory for Martin. He recalled a controversial moment from a previous Oscar ceremony in another timeline, how "La La Land" was mistakenly announced as Best Picture before the real winner, "Moonlight," was revealed. The mix-up had been a media frenzy, casting a shadow over the ceremony and shaking the credibility of the Oscars.

With this in mind, Martin nodded thoughtfully. "It's worth pursuing. Films like this tend to have a dedicated audience, even if it's a niche one."

Aniston's eyes sparkled with determination. "I'm planning to meet with Barry Jenkins soon to finalize the rights."

Martin leaned in, his voice taking on a more serious tone. "Just be sure to keep the budget in check. These kinds of films can be impactful, but they don't always pull in massive crowds. Ideally, keep the production costs in the million-dollar range."

Aniston absorbed his advice, then leaned over and kissed him lightly on the cheek. "I'll take that to heart. As for the hundreds of billions you owe me," she added with a wink, "I'll let it slide for now. But once this project's in the bag, I'll be coming to collect."

Martin chuckled, his tone playful but sincere. "You know you can call me anytime."

Aniston stood up and gracefully made her way across the room, heading toward a group of Black individuals engaged in conversation. Martin's eyes followed her, curiosity piqued. After a moment, he noticed her deep in conversation with a middle-aged Black man and an agent from CAA. A hunch crossed his mind, this must be Barry Jenkins.

Just then, Louise Lyle approached, pulling out a chair and sitting across from him. She caught his gaze, following it to where Aniston was mingling. With a mischievous grin, she leaned in and whispered, "What's got you so interested in that group over there? Want me to find you some Black girls?"

Martin quickly shook his head, a bit taken aback. "No, thanks. That's not my scene at all."

Louise smirked and playfully kicked him under the table. "You know, if you ever did, just remember, things might not go as smoothly as you think..."

Martin cut her off with a laugh, "Trust me, that's not going to be an issue." He then gestured toward Aniston. "Jenny just asked for my opinion on a film project."

He gave Louise a quick rundown of their earlier conversation.

Louise arched an eyebrow. "So, are all the movies now going to be about social issues? What happened to the monsters and ghosts?"

Martin sighed, pulling his attention away from the distant group. "It seems like many Black filmmakers in Hollywood have figured out a shortcut to success. Those with a good nose for the industry are capitalizing on it."

Louise frowned, a trace of concern crossing her features. "Is it just me, or does it feel like you've led Hollywood down a strange path? Directors, screenwriters, and producers are more obsessed with checking boxes than making good films. Isn't that missing the point?"

She leaned closer, lowering her voice as if confiding a worry. "In the short term, sure, it's a way to appeal to specific groups, boost viewership, and maybe even make a quick buck. But what about the long term? Will people get tired of this? Will they start to avoid these movies altogether if they keep seeing the same formulaic elements?"

Martin met her gaze, his tone serious. "That's why we're going to stick to what we do best. We'll focus on making films the right way and maintaining our reputation."

He couldn't help but think back to the end of his previous life, when Robert Iger had stepped down at Disney. The studio, desperate to stay relevant, had crammed so many LGBTQI elements into their films that the stories themselves had suffered. At first, the audience numbers seemed to swell, but it wasn't long before the backlash began. International markets started shutting their doors to Disney films, and even in North America, the core audience began to turn away, especially from their beloved animated movies. Parents refused to let their kids watch Disney cartoons anymore. After the success of "Zootopia," Disney and Pixar's non-sequel animated films saw plummeting revenues, with more flops than hits.

Louise nodded, visibly reassured. "I'm glad to hear you say that. You've used some clever tactics over the years, but you've never let them distract you from what's really important, the quality of the work itself."

Martin smiled, appreciating her words. "The films have to be good first. Only then do the other tactics even matter."

Their conversation was interrupted by the arrival of Leonardo DiCaprio and Jack Nicholson, who brought over a lively group of people, insisting that Martin and Louise join them for a photo. The group, a little tipsy and full of energy, created a scene as they posed together, the flash of cameras capturing their laughter.

As the party wound down and the crowd began to disperse, Martin finally made his way out of the Hilton Hotel. Waiting by the car was Saoirse Ronan, who climbed into the backseat with him.

Bruce, his driver, started the engine and began the drive to the Ritz-Carlton Hotel. In the quiet of the car, Saoirse turned to him and asked, "Remember Greta Gerwig?"

Martin nodded, a small smile forming as he recalled the name. "Of course. She's a friend of Mandy Moore, worked as the choreographer for 'La La Land,' and was one of the key writers on 'Beauty and the Beast.' And, if I remember correctly, she's also a good friend of yours."

"I mentioned to you last time that Greta was eager to try her hand at directing," Saoirse said quickly, her excitement evident. "She's been working on a film based on her own life, and she finally finished the first draft of the script. She handed it over to me earlier, and now she wants me to pass it on to you."

Martin nodded, recalling the conversation. "You and Greta seem pretty close."

Saoirse smiled warmly, her honesty refreshing. "Greta's told me more than once that I remind her of herself when she was younger. The character in her story is drawn from her own experiences, and she thinks I'm perfect for the role."

Martin studied Saoirse for a moment, noticing how her halter dress highlighted her delicate features. "Alright," he said with a nod, "give me the script tomorrow."

But Saoirse had planned ahead. "Actually, I asked someone to bring her to the hotel. She's waiting in the lobby right now."

Martin raised an eyebrow, impressed by her initiative. "Alright then, let's read through the script tonight."

Saoirse grinned, leaning in a little closer. "And then," she added with a playful wink, "you can watch me dance."

Martin reached out, his fingers brushing through her golden hair, which was as smooth as satin. He appreciated her lightheartedness, a welcome contrast to the intense world they both navigated.

As the car pulled up to the Ritz-Carlton Hotel, Saoirse slipped out and headed to the lobby to retrieve the script. Meanwhile, Martin and Bruce made their way upstairs. After a routine security check of the room, Bruce turned to Martin and said, "I'm heading to Venice Beach tonight."

Martin knew exactly what that meant, having seen the Kardashian sisters at one of the Oscar after-parties earlier. "Go ahead, take five days off. You've earned it."

Bruce chuckled, shaking his head. "It won't take that long."

Martin couldn't resist teasing him. "So, how many of the sisters showed up?"

Bruce hesitated for a moment before responding, "Well, except for Kim and Khloé, Kendall's here too."

A sly smile crossed Martin's face. "Kendall's 18 now, right? Looks like you've got your hands full."

Bruce was quick to protest, "Don't start with that. Kendall and I are just friends. Nothing more."

Martin's smirk deepened. "Sure, just like how you and Khloé were 'just friends' a few years back, right? And we all know how that turned out."

Bruce tried to defend himself, grasping for a reasonable excuse. "Khloé's different. She's got curves, you know? Kendall... well, she's more like Judy."

But as soon as the name Judy left his lips, Bruce fell silent, realizing how far he had gone.

Martin saw right through him. "Bruce, you know as well as I do that it's not just about size or shape. It's the combination, the whole package."

Bruce knew there was no point in arguing further, so he kept quiet, accepting the playful ribbing in silence.

Martin clapped him on the shoulder with a grin. "Go on, enjoy your night."

Without another word, Bruce left the room, exchanged a few instructions with the other bodyguards, and headed out. His thoughts were already drifting toward Venice Beach and the night that awaited him with the Kardashian sisters. As he drove, a thought crossed his mind, Kylie Jenner must be almost 17 by now. He recalled Khloé mentioning Kylie's birth year was 1997, and now it was 2014.

Back at the hotel, Martin settled near the window overlooking the sky garden, the city lights twinkling in the distance. He didn't have to wait long before Saoirse reentered the room, carrying a thick script.

She closed the door behind her and handed the script to him. "Here it is."

Martin took the script, glancing at the cover. "Lady Bird," it read, with Greta Gerwig's name proudly displayed as the screenwriter. He recognized the title, understanding its significance, but he also knew how to keep the mood light and engaging.

Instead of diving right into the script, he set it aside with a smile. "Let's start with your new dance. I've been looking forward to it."

Saoirse's eyes sparkled with excitement. She pulled out a set of lace dancewear, her movements quick and graceful. "Give me a moment," she said, already heading toward the changing room. "I'll be right back."

Martin leaned back, anticipation building as he waited for what promised to be a captivating evening, one that combined creativity with a touch of personal connection.