Chapter 856: Cheating!

Filming on a boat at sea is a challenge like no other. The unpredictable tides make it nearly impossible to maintain control over the set, and when the weather takes a turn for the worse, it's a recipe for chaos. So, when the sky darkened and the waves grew fierce, Martin, the director, made a swift decision. He ordered the crew back to the studio, where a meticulously crafted set awaited, a perfect recreation of the vast, unpredictable ocean.

Inside the studio, a green screen had already been draped around the large pool, ready to transform into the boundless sea in post-production. Every detail was considered, right down to the smallest ripple. Martin's director's chair was perched high on a lift, giving him a clear view of the action below. His eyes were glued to the monitor as he focused on a close-up of Blake Lively, who was immersed in her role.

The scene they were capturing was intense: the heroine, wounded and terrified, clung desperately to a reef, screaming in pain as a shark circled nearby. The camera zoomed in close, capturing every raw emotion etched across Blake's face.

"Cut!" Martin's voice rang out, sharp and decisive, as he pulled off his headset. The set fell silent, and Blake's scream was replaced by the quiet hum of the studio. She looked up, concerned, fearing she had once again missed the mark. After all, she had struggled with several takes over the past few days, battling with the emotional depth the role demanded.

But Martin quickly put her at ease. "It's not you," he assured her, before turning his attention to the crew. "Dan, over here."

Dan Rostesin, the director of photography, hurried to Martin's side. Martin replayed the footage, his finger tracing the edges of the screen as he explained his concern. "Look at this close-up," he said, his voice thoughtful. "It's good, but it still feels too distant. I want the camera to get closer, so close that the audience can't escape her pain. I want them to feel every tremor in her expression, every tear, every breath."

Dan nodded, already piecing together a solution in his mind. After a moment's contemplation, he suggested, "We can push the sensors to their maximum capacity, switch to spherical lenses, and adjust the frame rate to somewhere between 120 and 150 frames per second. That should give us the flexibility to capture the emotion you're looking for, with the added fluidity in the shot."

With the new plan in place, filming resumed. This time, the results were exactly what Martin had envisioned. The camera captured the raw, unfiltered emotion he was striving for, pulling the audience into the heart of the scene.

No matter how meticulously one plans, shooting a film is never without its surprises. The following day, Martin found himself facing a new challenge. He called over the lighting team's supervisor, determined to synchronize the lighting between the studio and their location shots to maintain continuity.

Thomson, the lighting engineer, and his team rose to the challenge. They devised an intricate suspension cable system that could control hundreds of lights. They also installed two sets of reflectors, one horizontal, the other vertical each with dual modes. The black mode absorbed light, while the white mode reflected it, allowing the team to simulate different times of day and varying weather conditions with precision.

The color of the sea was another variable that Martin was determined to control. He insisted that the pool's water mirror the ever-changing hues of the ocean in the bay, ensuring that the transition from studio to location was seamless. Although Martin wasn't a technical expert, he relied on his team to execute his vision.

The props, stunt, and lighting teams collaborated to install special ambient lights around and beneath the pool. These lights, connected to an intelligent system, could shift the water's color from deep blue to light blue, to shades of cyan and blue-green, mimicking the natural changes caused by light and tide.

As Martin observed these efforts, he knew he wasn't the expert in these technicalities, but he didn't need to be. He had a team of professionals who could bring his vision to life. The challenges of the shoot were more complex than he had anticipated, but Martin knew that, in the world of filmmaking, most problems could be solved with the right resources and a bit of money.

Meanwhile, Blake Lively continued to engage with her fans, posting updates on social media every five days or so. Her posts kept the film in the public eye, steadily building anticipation and drawing attention to the project, ensuring that even as they faced the grueling challenges of production, they never lost sight of their ultimate goal: a film that would captivate audiences around the world.

Every social media post Blake Lively shared from the set was paired with a carefully chosen selfie. The images ranged from glamorous, red-carpet-ready looks to ones where she appeared battered and bruised, a testament to the grueling demands of the role. With each post, her followers got a glimpse of the relentless intensity of the film. One thing was clear: this movie wasn't just about survival on screen, it was a test of endurance off it, especially for Blake.

"This movie is designed to wear me out," Blake had muttered to herself one day, exhaustion heavy in her voice. The grueling 10-hour shooting days were taking a toll. Most of her time was spent submerged in water, the cold seeping into her bones, leaving her too drained to even consider visiting Martin's room in the evenings, a habit she'd once enjoyed.

Martin, on the other hand, was consumed by the film. His world had shrunk to the size of a camera lens, the edges of the frame the only boundaries he recognized. He spent every waking moment obsessing over the next shot, the next scene, the next detail that could elevate the film. His interactions with others were sparse, limited mostly to brief exchanges with Louise, his trusted producer. Even those were about the film nothing else mattered.

One day, Leonardo DiCaprio and Jack Nicholson arrived on the set, flying all the way from Los Angeles to Rosarito Island. They weren't just visiting; they were here to witness the chaos firsthand, maybe even to catch Martin stumbling under the pressure.

But to their surprise, the studio was running like a well-oiled machine. Martin was in complete control, directing the crew with precision and confidence. He was far from the frazzled novice they'd expected to find.

During a break in filming, Leonardo turned to Nicholson, a hint of disbelief in his voice. "This guy... Could it be that he actually has a knack for directing?"

Nicholson, ever the seasoned observer, shrugged. "He's got talent, sure. But let's not kid ourselves, most of that talent comes from having deep pockets."

Leonardo caught on quickly, a smirk playing on his lips. "Money talks in Hollywood, doesn't it? It's the greatest talent of all."

Nicholson nodded, his eyes sweeping over the bustling set. "Exactly. Look around. Aside from Martin and Blake, who's mostly here for her looks, everyone else is a top-notch professional. The best in the industry. And when this film goes into post-production, it's going to be even more polished."

Leonardo's gaze shifted to Louise Mayer, standing quietly in a corner, overseeing everything with a watchful eye. "Ms. Mayer is one of the best producers out there," he remarked. "Even Kathleen Kennedy has sung her praises. With her steering the post-production and a top-tier editing team on board, the film's bound to be solid."

Nicholson added with a grin, "And don't forget, Martin's a marketing genius. He knows how to create buzz like no one else."

Nicholson, though older, had been savvy enough to jump on the social media bandwagon, thanks to Martin's influence. "Since Blake switched her social media handle to 'Gossip Queen,' her following has skyrocketed to 80 million. She's been working that angle nonstop, keeping this film in the spotlight. By the time it's released, just her fans alone could turn out in the millions."

Leonardo couldn't help but laugh. "That bastard Martin, he's got the system rigged!"

"I used to think you had that bet in the bag," Nicholson said, shaking his head with a rueful smile. "But after seeing how Martin plays the game, it's clear you've been outmatched. You're still relying on the old tricks, furrowed brows, angry glares, shouting. You haven't evolved. Martin, on the other hand, is adapting. He's learning fast, and that makes him dangerous."

Leonardo scoffed, pointing to the pool where the next scene was being set up. "You really think Martin can snag an Oscar for Best Director with a basic horror film like this? It's laughable."

Nicholson leaned back, considering his words carefully. "This film? No, it's not going to win any awards. It might not even get a nomination. But this is Martin's first crack at directing. He's figuring out the ropes, learning what works and what doesn't. If he can take what he's learning here and apply it to a film with real substance, something that the Academy loves, then yeah, with his marketing skills and the way the Oscars have been leaning lately, he could actually pull it off someday."

Leonardo, aware of how Hollywood and the Oscars were shifting, had to admit Nicholson had a point. The days when talent and film quality were the sole factors in winning awards were fading.

Nicholson continued, driving his point home. "When it comes to the business of winning awards, you're lagging behind, Leo. Martin's got the upper hand. He knows how to work the system better than anyone."

Leonardo couldn't argue with that. He had played the sympathy card in his bid for awards, a move that had only made him a target of ridicule. Meanwhile, Martin had maneuvered behind the scenes, ensuring Leo won Best Actor, even as Leo himself had unwittingly made a fool of himself.

"That bastard Martin is cheating, and I'm too much of a gentleman to stoop that low!" Leonardo grumbled, his frustration bubbling over. He wasn't about to lose this bet and let the century-old problem go unsolved. Glancing over at Jack Nicholson, who sat calmly beside him, the weight of three Oscars behind his easy demeanor, Leonardo couldn't help but plead, "Jack, you've got to help me out here!"

Nicholson looked thoughtful for a moment, then nodded slowly. "It's not impossible to help you."

A wave of suspicion washed over Leonardo. His instincts told him that whatever Nicholson had in mind would come with a catch. He warned, "Don't you dare suggest marrying Lorraine. Unless Martin ties the knot first, I'm not getting married in this lifetime."

Nicholson muttered to himself, "Why does that sound so weird?" But outwardly, he maintained his serious expression. "Here's what you do, find a role where you play a gay, transgender, and black character. That'll guarantee you the Best Actor award."

Leonardo blinked in surprise, then quipped, "You mean like Robert Downey Jr. in 'Tropic Thunder'?"

Nicholson smirked. "I remember Martin joking recently that even transgender roles are outdated now. Maybe you should go for something more avant-garde, like a talking shopping bag or a helicopter."

Leonardo paused, considering the idea for a moment before shaking his head. "No way. That would completely trash the image I've spent two decades building. Sure, winning an Oscar might be worth some sacrifices, but not that kind of sacrifice."

Just then, the crew took a break from filming, and the set buzzed with activity as people grabbed coffee and stretched their legs. Martin emerged from the director's chair, rubbing his temples as he headed over.

Leonardo greeted him with a playful punch on the arm. "You're really starting to look the part of a big-shot director."

Martin waved off the comment. "Don't even start. This job is way more of a headache than acting."

Nicholson couldn't resist a jab. "And you're just now figuring that out? Too late, buddy! There's a reason I've never tried directing all these years. It's exhausting, stressful, and the pay isn't even better. Plus, it's nowhere near as liberating as acting."

Leonardo, always quick with a retort, grinned. "Wrong. Directors have a much easier time charming the female stars."

Nicholson rolled his eyes. "Oh, really? And yet, you and Martin seem to attract more beautiful actresses than most directors out there. Care to explain?"

Martin shrugged with a grin. "What can I say? People know I'm more than just a pretty face, I've got depth."

He glanced toward the studio doors. "I'm heading out for some fresh air. I've been cooped up in here all day, and my head's starting to spin."

Leonardo and Nicholson followed Martin out of the studio, the trio strolling down the main road that led to the infinity pool. They walked east, the pool's edge blurring into the horizon, and Leonardo pointed to a cluster of gantry cranes in the distance.

"See that spot over there?" Leonardo said, gesturing. "That's where James Cameron built the 'Titanic'."

Martin raised an eyebrow. "They tore it all down? That could've been a major tourist attraction."

Leonardo nodded. "Yeah, but the ship alone cost over $60 million to build. Dismantling it helped recover some of those funds. No one knew back then that 'Titanic' would become such a phenomenon. Fox was under so much financial pressure, they ended up selling the North American distribution rights to Paramount for $65 million just to stay afloat."

Martin nodded, recalling the stories he'd heard. During production, Fox executives had been pushed to the brink by Cameron's demands, so much so that they'd practically begged for additional investment. And after the film's success, with North American box office revenue alone surpassing $600 million, those same executives were scrambling to appease the furious News Corporation and the Murdoch family.

Nicholson added with a knowing smile, "In this industry, every big prop and set eventually meets the same fate, dismantled and sold for scrap."

Both Martin and Leonardo nodded in agreement. They remembered how, for the 'Pirates of the Caribbean' films shot on this very lot, the Black Pearl had been built and torn down three times, each time with the same inevitable end.

Trying to uncover the exact cost of building the ship was like chasing shadows, practically impossible. The figures were buried in a labyrinth of budgets, hidden away like a well-kept secret.

As they strolled along, the conversation shifted to Leonardo's past experiences filming on location. Martin recalled a recent phone call from Jonathan Nolan and turned to Leonardo with a curious smile. "Leo, before you shot 'Shutter Island', didn't you spend some time in a mental institution to get into character?"

Leonardo nodded, a grin spreading across his face as the memory surfaced. "Yeah, and I remember asking you and Jack to come visit me. But you two disloyal bastards left me there all alone! I nearly went crazy for real."

Martin chuckled, his eyes glinting with mischief. "We had complete faith in you, man."

Nicholson chimed in, his voice dripping with playful sarcasm. "Exactly. We knew you were thick-headed enough not to let a few loonies get to you."

Leonardo shot him a middle finger, which Nicholson coolly ignored behind his sunglasses.

After they finished ribbing Leonardo, Nicholson's gaze turned to Martin, an eyebrow raised in curiosity. "So, what's this about? Are you planning a little stay at a mental institution yourself?"

Martin shook his head, a more serious tone creeping into his voice. "Remember that schizophrenia film I mentioned a while back? The one based on Billy Milligan? We're expecting to start shooting later this year."

Leonardo's eyes lit up with recognition. "The guy who claimed he had 24 personalities, right?"

"That's the one," Martin confirmed. "Jonathan Nolan's finished the script, and once I wrap up 'The Shallows', I'm diving into that project."

Nicholson leaned in, his tone more pointed now. "You're not thinking about directing and starring in it yourself, are you? I mean, you've got the chops, you handled the Joker and all. But a film like this requires a director who can navigate some seriously tricky waters."

Martin nodded, understanding the caution in Nicholson's words. "I know what you're getting at, Jack. This project is way too complex for me to try and juggle both roles. That's why I've reached out to David Fincher. He's going to direct it."

Leonardo gave an approving nod. "Fincher's the perfect guy for something like this. He'll nail the tone."

Martin then turned to Nicholson, a thoughtful look on his face. "By the way, there's a role in the film for a psychiatrist, kind of a mentor figure for Billy. I think you'd be perfect for it. How about making a cameo?"

Nicholson didn't even hesitate before shutting it down. "Why would I trade the thrill of Lakers games and Jennifer Lawrence's company for a dark, twisted role in a film like that? I'm retired, Martin, and I've got more than enough money. I'm not stepping back into that kind of madness."

Leonardo laughed, shaking his head. "You're getting lazy in your old age. Look at Ridley Scott and Clint Eastwood, they're your age, and they're still cranking out films."

Martin silently agreed, recalling how even a decade later, Scott and Eastwood were still at it, showing no signs of slowing down. But he knew better than to push Nicholson. Everyone had their own path, and Nicholson's was clearly one of leisure and enjoyment.

Despite their playful banter, Nicholson and Leonardo had come to Rosarito Island with the secret hope of watching Martin struggle, maybe even fail. But much to their disappointment, the set was running like clockwork.

Louise Mayer had been a constant presence on the island, meticulously managing the crew's daily operations, overseeing marketing efforts, and handling the logistics, ensuring everything ran smoothly. Martin was in his element, leading the crew with a clear vision, moving from one studio to the next around the bay, giving orders with confidence.

The seasoned professionals behind the scenes executed Martin's instructions with precision, bringing his concepts to life with skill and expertise. Even when a storm forced the crew to pause production for four days, the schedule remained intact, and by late April, they had wrapped up all the shots.

Nicholson and Leonardo had expected chaos, but what they found was a well-oiled machine, driven by Martin's relentless determination and Louise's steady hand. If they'd come looking for entertainment at Martin's expense, they were leaving empty-handed.