America Tycoon: The Wolf of Showbiz

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Oscar catastrophes proved that when an enemy comes at you with a knife, arguing that they're wrong is utterly useless.

It only makes things messier, leaving you the most injured one.

The best method is to grab an even larger and sharper knife and stab back with extreme ferocity, aiming directly for the vitals, rendering the opponent powerless to retaliate.

Martin knew Harvey Weinstein's style well, having already prepared a contingency plan and mentally braced himself.

He reached out to France's luxury brand Cartier to connect with the most influential "Figaro Newspaper" locally; their columnist furiously criticized "Inglourious Basterds" as sheer nonsense, mocking the painful history of France's occupation, showing no respect for France.

Hollywood's World War II films and series have always spawned "miraculous works of art."

The number of Germans dying on Hollywood sets is certainly not fewer than the number of enemies dying in Hengdian.

If using a unified standard, "Inglourious Basterds" could be regarded as a masterpiece of anti-German cinema, with its climax far more exaggerated than manually ripping apart enemies.

But these were merely meant to attract Harvey's attention and prevent him from noticing the real knife stealthily aiming for the vitals.

The knife Martin prepared was called a woman's hatred!

A deep and bitter grudge that had persisted for thirty years.

In a rather ordinary roadside café outside Cannes, far from the Festival Palace.

Pierre, the entertainment editor from "Figaro Newspaper," awaited the person he was to meet today.

A man and a woman.

Melanie and Bruce.

Pierre's wife worked in the marketing department for Cartier's men's watches, the facilitator of this meeting.

Melanie said with a smile, "My old friend, we meet again."

Pierre forced a smile, "I'd rather we had never met."

As if she hadn't heard him, Melanie went straight to the point, "Tomorrow, bring out another piece of news about how Harvey Weinstein greatly admires Isabel Adjani."

Pierre shook his head, "I'm a journalist. I can't write without solid information; that's professional ethics."

He specifically mentioned today's report, "I agreed to your news piece because 'Inglourious Basterds' is indeed nonsense, the arrogant Americans blatantly rewriting our glorious struggle during World War II!"

Melanie, without any nonsense, took out an envelope and pushed it towards Pierre.

Bruce also pulled out an envelope and placed it in front of Pierre.

Pierre opened the first envelope, glanced inside, felt its thickness, and figured that precise details were actually irrelevant, as the article could be written in an ambiguous manner.

His gaze then landed on the second envelope.

Bruce gestured for him to go ahead.

Pierre opened the envelope to find more than a dozen photos of Harvey Weinstein with Isabel Adjani.

In a few of them, the pair seemed to be engaging in intimate conversation.

With over two decades in the industry, Pierre knew that appearances could be deceiving. The photos might be real, or they could have been taken from specifically chosen angles.

Melanie said, "Is this enough to prove the authenticity of the news?"

Pierre first pocketed the first envelope, then the second, commenting, "Very authentic news indeed."

As soon as he spoke, he realized he was too hasty and chastised himself, "What happened between them?"

Melanie earnestly replied, "Weinstein greatly admires Ajani and plans to invite her to Hollywood to play a significant role in an art film, helping her compete for an Oscar."

Pierre nodded, "I understand."

Melanie asked, "Will it be in tomorrow's paper?"

Pierre answered, "No problem."

Melanie and Bruce quickly left.

Pierre stayed put, ordering another cup of coffee. He took out a pen and notebook and, while still moved by the first sight of the photos, wrote an impassioned draft for the article.

He then returned to the temporary office and immediately sent the draft to the newspaper via fax.

The very next morning, the news about Harvey Weinstein and Isabel Adjani appeared in a prominent spot on the entertainment page of the "Figaro Newspaper."

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In the Festival Palace, the judges' office.

Yuper sat at her desk, contemplating the competition section's award recipients.

Aisha Akido, who had been keeping Yuper company quite frequently these days, was casually flipping through today's newspaper, looking for media reports on the competition films.

Yuper sketched on a piece of paper; in her eyes, there was only one choice for the Palme d'Or—"The White Ribbon".

As for Best Actor, both Martin Davis and Christopher Waltz had delivered outstanding performances.

However, the recent media reports had somewhat influenced Yuper, with Martin's role involving too much special effects.

As a traditional European filmmaker, Yuper was quite averse to Hollywood's special effects; to a certain extent, she appreciated Waltz's acting more.

Choose Waltz?

The thought had just emerged when she remembered Mene from the late-night snacks in the past few days, suddenly feeling that Martin wasn't as bad as the media portrayed.

Yuper felt torn for a moment, her pen tapping between the two names on the paper.

If all else fails, why not choose both for Best Actor? It wouldn't be the first time for a tie.

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In the film festival a few years ago, when that director from Harbor City, nicknamed "King of Sunglasses," chaired the jury, there was an incident where five male actors were chosen as the Best Actor, and six female actors were chosen as the Best Actress.

A sudden knock at the door sounded, and Aisha Akido took the initiative to open it.

Yuper's assistant came in with a copy of the "Figaro Newspaper," placing it on the desk and glanced at Aisha.

"It's fine, go ahead," Yuper nodded.

The assistant flipped the newspaper to the entertainment section, "Madam, you asked me to follow Ajani's movements; there's her latest news."

The work at hand was obviously not as important as her archenemy; Yuper put down the pen and started reading the newspaper.

The first thing she saw were three pictures in which Harvey Weinstein was in conversation with Ajani, appearing to be enjoying it immensely.

Yuper's complexion turned ugly.

Beneath the photos was a headline.

"Hollywood independent producer Harvey Weinstein invites Isabel Adjani to be the lead actress in his next film!"

This made Yuper's expression even uglier.

"Our newspaper has received exclusive news that 'Inglourious Basterds' investor and producer Harvey Weinstein has met several times with Isabel Adjani, who is staying in the same hotel, to discuss future collaborations. The former believes that Ajani still has the strength to vie for an Oscar performance award…"

Yuper subconsciously touched the top of her head, under her hair there was a small scar, a masterpiece of Ajani from thirty years ago.

A thirty-year rivalry!

Yuper had barely managed to suppress Ajani, and in the recent five years made the French believe that there was only one Isabel in the French film industry.

She looked up and asked seemingly casually, "Aisha, who do you think is more suited for the Best Actor?"
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Aisha Akido, without any hesitation, said, "If it were up to me, I would choose Martin Davis; Harvey Weinstein is someone who has no respect for female actors."

Yuper nodded her head, her heart was smaller than a pinhead when it involved Ajani: "Martin is indeed not bad."

As soon as the assistant saw the related news, he knew "Inglourious Basterds" was out of the game.

"Now that all the films in the competition section have been screened and the closing ceremony is only a few days away," Yuper said to the assistant, "notify the other judges that there will be an awards determination meeting this afternoon, and everyone must attend."

The assistant prepared to go out and send out the notices.

Yuper added, "Any news from Harvey Weinstein's side should be stopped at your end; don't inform me, don't tell me, I have no interest in them at all!"

"Yes, Madam," the assistant could see that Yuper was very angry because of Ajani.

Aisha Akido, thinking of Harvey, that dishonest fat man, added fuel to the fire: "'Inglourious Basterds' makes a joke out of France's history of invasion; it shouldn't receive any awards!"

Yuper didn't join in, but she felt that Aisha's point was very valid.

As for ten minutes ago, when Yuper was considering sharing the Best Actor award between Waltz and Martin, she had already turned the page.

"Inglourious Basterds" vanished from Yuper's sight automatically.

Just after noon, the jury held a closed internal meeting.

Yuper, the chair of this session, presided over the meeting.

With the film festival's closure drawing nearer, it was necessary to unify the jury's opinion on some awards.

Yuper said, "In the last meeting, the common opinion for Best Actor was Martin and Waltz stood out the most; now that all the competitive films have been screened, the other male actors are clearly a notch lower, I think it's time to determine the Best Actor."

Tagore from India was the first to jump in, "I think Waltz is the most suitable."

No sooner had he finished speaking than the screenwriter from Pakistan, Hanif, retorted, "Martin's role is more challenging, and he performed better!"

The two glared furiously at each other!

They didn't care about each other's opinions; one's agreement was another's opposition.

Shu Qi raised her hand, "I think Martin Davis is suitable."

Lee Chang-dong followed, "Clearly, Martin Davis is superior by a margin."

Tagore, seeing these people telling blatant lies, was too angry to speak.

Aisha Akido said, "I choose Martin Davis!"

James Gray smiled, "Martin!"

"Cough..." John Travolta coughed to attract everyone's attention.

Everyone present who knew Hollywood realized his deep connections with Harvey Weinstein and Quentin, thinking he was about to contradict them.

Every time the jury awarded prizes, it would turn into a brawl inside.

Only during that session chaired by the director from Harbor City was the atmosphere especially harmonious.

Travolta smiled and simply stated, "Obviously, Martin performed better."

With Yuper included, the jury comprised nine people, and already six had declared their support for Martin.

Unless the jury chair vetoed it.

Yuper did not make them wait and immediately declared her position, "I support Martin Davis!"

The only person who hadn't taken a stand, the Turkish director Ceylan, seeing the direction the wind was blowing, said, "I support Martin too!"

Eight in support, one against, the award for Best Actor could be said to be uncontroversial.

The meeting's decision was officially recorded and became a resolution.

The result for Best Actor was sealed, never to be discussed again.