Chapter 881: A Global Event!

The lounge settled into a hushed stillness for a moment.

Seated around the table were the three chairmen of the Academy's Executive Committee, Hollywood veterans with decades of experience. They exchanged knowing glances, fully aware of the implications behind Martin's words.

Tom Sherak, one of the committee heads, leaned forward thoughtfully. "Europe and Australia have been regular contenders at the Oscars for years now," he mused, his voice carrying the weight of deep reflection. "But as for Asia… it's the world's second-largest film market. They used to be enthusiastic about the Oscars, willing to pour money into promoting their films. But now… something's changed. Their interest seems to have waned, and fewer companies are pushing for Oscar recognition."

He trailed off, uncertain about the specifics, while Martin sat quietly, observing. What Sherak and the others couldn't grasp, Martin understood completely. There was a subtle shift happening, especially in the East. Slowly, Asian filmmakers were regaining confidence in their own industries. Though some still sought external validation, many had begun to see Hollywood as the competition rather than the goal.

After a thoughtful pause, Martin spoke up. "I've been traveling frequently to East Asia in recent years for promotional work. From what I've seen, Japan and South Korea are still deeply invested in the Oscars, especially South Korea. It's practically a prime market for our films. If the Academy makes the right moves, sends the right signals, they'll come flocking back to compete for Oscars. The Korean entertainment industry certainly isn't lacking in funds."

Kathleen Kennedy, sitting at the other end of the table, nodded with a wry smile. As an accomplished actress, producer, and businesswoman, she had traveled to Korea several times and was no stranger to the dynamics there. "Exactly," she agreed. "Throw a bone, and they'll come running." Her tone was sharp, almost cutting, a hint of cynicism lacing her words.

Tom Hanks, always the optimist, chimed in with his easygoing charm. "It's a good plan. But why stop at South Korea and Japan? There's the rest of Southeast Asia and even South America. These are growing markets for Hollywood, and the Academy should embrace that. Hollywood has always prided itself on being open, and the Oscars should reflect that international spirit."

Hanks knew this firsthand. He had been a central figure during Hollywood's golden era when American films truly went global, dominating box offices worldwide. The strategy that worked for Hollywood's expansion into foreign markets would undoubtedly benefit the Oscars as well.

Sherak, always pragmatic, leaned back in his chair, his mind already moving to next steps. "After this awards ceremony," he said, "we should definitely organize a cultural exchange delegation to Japan and South Korea. It's time to re-engage with those markets."

The decision was made. There was nothing more for Martin to add. The executive committee chairs briefly conferred among themselves before Sherak turned back to Martin.

"On behalf of the Executive Committee, thank you for your insights, Martin."

Martin gave a modest nod. "I'm happy to help. After all, I'm a member of the Academy, too."

Kathleen Kennedy and Tom Hanks both echoed their thanks, each offering Martin a firm handshake as they stood. Martin responded in kind, exchanging parting words before exiting the lounge.

He knew this small favor would hold some value in the future. Though the Executive Committee held elections every year, positions like chairman and vice-chairman were often filled by the same people for multiple terms. As long as someone like Sidney Ganis, the Academy's former president, had the stamina, they could continue their tenure. If health hadn't forced Ganis to step down, he might still be in the role.

Elizabeth, who had stayed quiet during the entire conversation, finally spoke as they left the room. Her voice was soft with curiosity as she asked, "Do you really think a Korean film could win an Oscar?"

Martin paused to consider her question. "It's not unheard of for a foreign film to win Best Picture. The Oscars are like the Nobel Prize, it's not just about the quality of the work, but also about where you stand."

Elizabeth raised an eyebrow, recalling something. "Kind of like the president winning the Nobel Peace Prize?"

Martin chuckled at the memory, shaking his head. "Even most Americans found that laughable."

The special dinner had come to a close, and the guests began to drift out into the night. Martin and Elizabeth left together, the weight of the evening's discussions still fresh in their minds. When they arrived home, Bruce, having just returned from Europe, greeted them.

Elizabeth, ever perceptive, pulled Lily, who was clinging to Martin, up the stairs, leaving the two men alone to talk.

There was much to discuss.

Martin called Bruce into the study, the room dimly lit, creating an air of seriousness that matched the topic at hand. As Bruce entered, Martin gestured toward the leather chair opposite his desk, signaling for him to sit.

Bruce, always straight to the point, began, "Kiev's situation is under control. Alexandrovich's Security Bureau, backed by military force, raided the Privas Group. They arrested the top executives, including Igor, and confiscated their assets. The group's holdings have been put up for sale, and we managed to acquire them at a low price."

Martin's expression remained unreadable, but he knew this was only the beginning. "Sell it off as quickly as possible," he said, cutting to the heart of the matter.

Bruce leaned back, nodding calmly. "That's the plan. We've already identified a buyer and expect the sale to be finalized within six months."

Martin, satisfied but always cautious, nodded. "Good. That'll do."

Bruce hesitated for a moment, then added, "One more thing. Alexandrovich is considering a visit to the U.S. later this year. We're in talks with him, but the date isn't set yet."

Martin's mind raced, piecing together fragments from the past. He knew how unpredictable such visits could be, especially in volatile political climates. "Make sure the Privas Group assets are fully transferred before Alexandrovich steps foot in the U.S.," he said, his tone firm.

Bruce raised an eyebrow. "You think there's something to worry about?"

Martin exhaled slowly, leaning forward slightly. "The political environment over there is always on the verge of upheaval. If we delay even a little, we could lose everything in a sudden power shift. Let's not leave any loose ends."

Bruce, ever the pragmatist, gave a quick nod. "I'll handle it. I'm heading back to Europe in three days anyway."

Martin's lips curled into a faint smirk. "Take your time these next few days. I'm sure Judy, Kim, and Khloe could use your… attention. And don't forget Kendall."

Bruce glanced at his watch, suppressing a smile. He didn't argue, but simply stood up. "I'm actually on my way to see Judy now."

Martin waved him off with a knowing grin. "Go on, then."

Bruce left without further comment, and Martin leaned back in his chair, briefly reflecting on the complicated relationship his friend had with the Kardashian sisters. It was amusing in a way, Bruce's personal life was just as tangled as his own. At the end of the day, Martin knew he wasn't much different from Bruce when it came to certain indulgences.

As he exited the study, Martin headed upstairs to the master bedroom. Lily and Elizabeth, both freshly showered, were already waiting for him, lounging comfortably. The sight of them together was familiar, a routine the three had grown accustomed to over the years. In the calm before the storm of the Oscars, these moments offered Martin a strange sense of normalcy.

During this period, he had chosen to stay in Los Angeles, focusing on the studio's growing slate of film and television projects. Denis Villeneuve's *Sicario* had just finished its final edit, and Disney was preparing to release the film in April, right before the summer blockbuster season. It had the potential to be a hit, and Martin was eager to see how audiences would react.

Meanwhile, Taylor Sheridan, the talented screenwriter behind *Sicario*, had pitched Martin a new idea, a crime drama set on a Native American reservation. While Martin found the concept intriguing, he worried it might be too niche, too literary. Still, he encouraged Sheridan to draft a script. He didn't want to dismiss the idea outright but knew it had to strike the right balance between art and commercial appeal.

Damien Chazelle's *Whiplash* had just wrapped filming and entered post-production. The film wouldn't hit theaters until later in the year, but Martin had high hopes for it, especially after seeing early footage. The intensity of the performances was undeniable, and he knew the project had the potential to resonate with critics and audiences alike.

*The Queen's Gambit*, originally conceived as a film, had been reimagined as a limited TV series. Scott Frank, the showrunner, had settled on a seven-episode format, and Martin had given the green light. He was confident in the decision. A shorter, focused series would allow the story to breathe and build tension without overstaying its welcome.

Martin had also been closely involved in the casting process for Robert Eggers' indie horror film *The Witch*. After several rounds of auditions, it was finally decided that Anya Taylor-Joy would play the lead role. Martin had pushed for her, sensing her unique blend of vulnerability and strength would be perfect for the unsettling atmosphere of the film.

Then there was *San Andreas*, the disaster movie whose rights Martin had acquired the previous year. Screenwriter Carlton Cuse had been working on refining the protagonist's character, making adjustments based on Martin's feedback. However, Martin still wasn't fully satisfied and had asked Cuse for further revisions. The project had potential, but it needed just the right balance of action and emotional depth to stand out in a crowded genre.

Amid all this, Martin was also working on the script for *Joker*. He was storyboarding scenes, fleshing out the film's narrative in ways that would distinguish it from the more conventional superhero fare. As buzz about the project grew, rumors started circulating that Martin might both direct and star in the film. Surprisingly, the reception wasn't as negative as he had expected. The success of *The Shallows* had silenced many critics, and Martin had earned a level of respect that allowed him to take on more ambitious projects without immediate skepticism.

As the Oscars loomed closer, Martin's plate was full. Yet, despite the whirlwind of responsibilities, he felt a strange sense of calm. The pieces were all in motion, and for now, everything seemed to be falling into place.

After just one month in North American theaters, the thriller had already pulled in an impressive $123 million, making it the highest-grossing film of 2015, at least for the time being. Of course, it was only March, and many big releases were still on the horizon.

Globally, the film had opened in more than 50 countries, earning close to $100 million overseas. Though its numbers paled in comparison to the massive box office draws of films starring Martin himself, the return on investment was undeniable. With a total production budget of $50 million, including marketing, the project had already turned a significant profit.

In today's volatile market, where even a 10% net profit on a multimillion-dollar investment was something to celebrate, *The Shallows* was a rare and welcome success. The only downside? Its reputation was fading somewhat.

As more people flocked to see the film, its critical reception started to slide. On IMDb, the audience rating dropped to 7.2, and Rotten Tomatoes showed a dip in its freshness score to 73%. Despite this, the movie's box office momentum remained strong.

By the time the Oscars rolled around, *The Shallows* had earned over $250 million globally, a huge win for the studio.

---

The 87th Academy Awards kicked off with all the grandeur and glitter expected at the Dolby Theatre on the first weekend of March. Since that informal dinner a few weeks ago, the Academy's executive committee had wasted no time. Invitations were sent to filmmakers across the globe, with particular attention given to Japan and South Korea.

While Japan wasn't a major focus, given Hollywood's relatively modest impact on their market, Korea was a different story. Hollywood had long considered the Korean film industry its backyard, Korean directors and producers often looked to Los Angeles for validation, with many hoping to one day hold an Oscar of their own.

With the Korean market still learning from Hollywood's successes, they were keen to engage, especially now that the Academy was making gestures to include them. In leaner times, as it seemed to be for the Hollywood elite, even the "loyal" markets like Korea were being called upon to contribute.

Yet, as always, the Oscars weren't just about films, they were also a stage for protest. This year, the Dolby Theatre was surrounded by hundreds of black protesters, furious over what they saw as blatant discrimination. Not a single black actor or director had been nominated for Best Actor, Best Supporting Actor, or Best Director, sparking outrage among Hollywood's African-American community.

LGBTQ+ groups, who had protested in the past, were absent this year, leaving the streets filled with demonstrators holding signs and banners condemning the Academy for excluding black talent. The uproar reached fever pitch as high-profile figures like Spike Lee, Will Smith, and George Lucas, who had a black wife, publicly denounced the awards.

Spike Lee, never one to mince words, had gone on record, declaring the Oscars a travesty, famously quipping, "I bought a watch last year!" Meanwhile, Will Smith and his wife called the situation an embarrassment. George Lucas, still reeling from the snub of *Selma* director Ava DuVernay, voiced his confusion as to why she hadn't received a nomination for Best Director.

Now, on the day of the awards, the protests had culminated in a collective outcry against the Academy.

Martin stepped onto the red carpet, ignoring the press swarming the media area. As he glanced at the protesters' banners, he quickly joined Jack Nicholson and Leonardo DiCaprio, who were waiting for him near the entrance of the Dolby Theatre. The trio, legends in their own right, were content to watch the spectacle unfold from a distance.

As they settled in, Nicholson smirked knowingly. "Just wait. Something interesting is bound to happen tonight."

Martin raised an eyebrow, intrigued. "What do you mean? The protests?"

Leonardo chuckled, his tone conspiratorial. "Yeah, it's gotta be about them."

Nicholson nodded, his grin widening. "Will Smith and Spike Lee may look like they're leading the charge, but they're actually more conservative than you'd think. The real radicals, the ones you don't see coming, well, they don't just talk."

Martin leaned in, curious. "Are you suggesting something else is brewing?"

Nicholson's eyes sparkled with mischief. "You'll see. Tonight might not go down the way everyone expects."

Martin couldn't help but smile. In Hollywood, nothing was ever predictable, least of all the Oscars.

Nicholson leaned back in his chair and smirked. "What's the deeper meaning behind all this?"

Martin, always quick with a retort, replied, "Don't you know? To the so-called radicals, even the conservatives are too conservative."

Leonardo, furrowing his brow, looked confused. "What are you trying to say?"

Before Martin could answer, a sudden commotion erupted near the red carpet. A group of black protesters rushed forward, holding up signs condemning the Oscars for their lack of diversity. The bold slogans and raised fists cast a shadow over the glamorous event. The security guards froze, unsure of how to react, hesitant, it seemed, to confront the demonstrators.

The scene was surreal. An eerie silence fell over the red carpet as the only sound that could be heard was the relentless click of camera shutters from the surrounding press. It was as if everyone was waiting for someone to make the first move.

If it had been anyone else causing a disruption, the security would have stepped in long ago. But these were activists with a cause, backed by powerful voices in Hollywood and no one wanted to be the one to escalate the situation.

Nicholson shook his head in disappointment. "This Academy has lost its backbone."

Martin gave him a teasing look. "You want to handle it yourself?"

Leonardo grinned. "We'll be here cheering you on from the sidelines."

Nicholson raised an eyebrow, feigning disgust. "I don't want to get my hands dirty."

Martin noticed someone trying to negotiate with the protesters, but he wasn't interested in watching the scene unfold any further. "Let's head inside to the lobby," he suggested, turning on his heel.

Nicholson and Leonardo followed, the three of them moving past the chaos outside as they made their way into the theater.

As they walked, Martin mused aloud, "With all this noise, you can bet the Oscars will swing hard in the other direction next year. The selection's going to be a mess, trying to appease everyone."

Leonardo shook his head, his voice tinged with frustration. "The Oscars have never been about purely honoring the best work. But it's getting ridiculous if it just becomes about who shouts the loudest."

Nicholson shrugged, his tone matter-of-fact. "That's the Oscars for you."

Leonardo turned to Martin with a sly smile. "Speaking of which, if I find the right role, I might just announce I'm an armored tank."

Martin raised an eyebrow, sensing the playful challenge. "Are you serious? You do know these trends are a Pandora's box I opened, right?"

Nicholson chuckled and gave Leonardo a firm pat on the shoulder. "You sure you want to compete with him on that front? He's already setting the pace."

Leonardo waved it off quickly, realizing he was in over his head. "Alright, alright. I take it back. Our bet stands, no ridiculous stunts for either of us."

Martin grinned. "Deal."

Their seats in the theater weren't grouped together, so Martin made his way to the second row, where the *Interstellar* crew was seated. Despite the film not receiving nominations for Best Director or Best Picture, both Christopher Nolan and producer Emma Thomas were present, a show of quiet dignity and support for the event.

Martin greeted the crew, exchanging pleasantries, before settling down near the aisle. As he got comfortable, he felt a presence beside him. Blake Lively had swapped seats to sit next to him, her eyes sparkling with excitement.

"Martin, did you hear?" Blake's voice was bubbling with energy. "I just hit number one for the most female followers on Instagram!"

Martin flashed her a thumbs-up. "That's impressive! Congratulations."

Blake leaned in, her excitement spilling over. "Thanks to *The Shallows*, I've gained tens of millions of new followers. Yesterday, I posted about the movie crossing $250 million at the box office, and the comments section blew up!"

Before Martin could respond, she quickly shifted the conversation. "I saw in the media that you're planning to direct and star in an independent film about the Joker? Is that true?"

Martin nodded, already anticipating what she was going to ask. "Yeah, that's the plan. It's still in development, though."

Blake's eyes lit up with opportunity. "Is there a role for me in it? I remember the Joker had a female sidekick, Harley Quinn, right?"

Martin paused for a moment, considering how to answer. "Harley Quinn won't be in this film. If it's successful, though, and Warner gives the go-ahead for a sequel, then we can talk about her."

Blake smiled, her mind clearly spinning with possibilities. "Got it. Maybe I'll work a little harder tonight. There might just be a sequel in our future."

Martin laughed, knowing full well Blake had the charm and ambition to make things happen, but for now, his focus was on the night ahead and the spectacle of the Oscars.