America Tycoon: The Wolf of Showbiz

The Cannes Film Festival reached its final day, and the closing ceremony and award presentation were about to begin.

In the room, Martin changed into his Brioni evening wear, strapped on a brand new Cartier watch on his left wrist, and picked up the Nokia N98 concept phone with his right hand.

At this moment, Bruce came over and said, "The Cadillac sent by the sponsor has arrived, it's downstairs."

Thomas, who had rushed from Los Angeles to Cannes, said, "The French branch of the Cola Cult has organized a group of people to come here, all wearing red T-shirts."

Martin nodded slightly and reminded Bruce, "Don't forget to bring the commemorative Cola."

Bruce stuffed the prepared Cola into his pocket.

Accompanying Martin, Thomas walked outside, conversing along the way, "I've spoken with each of your five major advertising sponsors. If you win the Best Actor award at Cannes, you'll receive a bonus of 6 million US dollars, in addition to at least 1 million dollars' worth of the latest products."

Martin was generous, "When they send stuff to Los Angeles, the car, the watch, the phone, you can pick whatever you like."

Thomas gladly accepted the offer.

As Martin was leaving, Bruce gestured for Thomas to slow down.

Thomas slowed his pace and asked in a low voice, "What's up?"

Bruce said softly, "Take the best of all these things and give them to Mene... Ah, Mene might not return to Los Angeles. Give them to his agent first."

"I understand," Thomas replied.

The group took the elevator downstairs, where the public relations manager hired by the crew, Melanie, was waiting in the hotel lobby.

Seeing Martin, she came over, nodded at him, and said, "Walk the red carpet quickly."

Martin didn't quite understand what she meant.

Melanie explained, "The economy's been bad these past two years. In order to make money, the film festival committee has gone crazy this year, selling too many red carpet tickets. There's no need for us to interact with those carpet stars or to become their backdrop."

Martin briefly mentioned the matter with the Cola Cult.

"Just go straight there," Melanie suggested. "There's no need to linger outside. You can do interviews and the like after the award ceremony."

As the local PR professional, Martin took her advice and agreed.

When David Finch and Catherine Kennedy came down from upstairs, the three of them took separate cars to the Festival Palace.

A mere 100 meters away, they arrived in an instant.

Not just Martin but the entire crew had signed sponsorship agreements with Cadillac. Even for such a short distance, they had to drive there.

Because many crews were clearly not in contention for awards, there were noticeably fewer of them walking the red carpet at the closing ceremony, while the number of carpet stars had increased.

Martin estimated that during the entire Cannes Film Festival, by selling red carpet tickets alone, the committee had earned at least six to seven million euros.

Plus the various brand sponsorships, registration fees, and commission from deals...

The enduring success of Europe's three major film festivals relied not only on their brands and artistic reputation but also on their substantial financial strength.

Leading Actress Cate Blanchett did not attend, so Catherine Kennedy, David Finch, and Martin, the trio once again ascended the red carpet in front of Lumiere Hall.

Compared to the high profile of the opening ceremony, they moved extremely fast, stopping only briefly for photos in the media zone.

Martin was meticulous; during the photoshoot, he made sure his watch and phone were prominently displayed.

Then, he went alone to a section filled with dozens of red T-shirt wearers, signed autographs for them, and held up Coca-Cola together.

"Cola Cult! Cola War God! Long live Martin!"

The sudden outburst of shouting echoed throughout the seaside area.

Inside a hotel room, Harvey Weinstein sat on the couch, silently watching Martin ascend the steps, all the way to the top.

"That bastard!" His chubby face trembled slightly.

Quentin's reaction was rather calm as he said, "He's learned everything from you."

"It's mainly my oversight," Harvey reflected, a rarity for him. "Ajani checked into the Provence Hotel, which I didn't pay much attention to. I even chatted with her casually when I met her, and that turned out to be the fatal weakness for the competition."

Quentin casually pointed to Martin at the steps, "It shows he's been watching us all along."

Harvey stated, "I can be sure that Ajani is not in cahoots with him. I don't know how he managed to send Ajani to Provence."

Quentin shrugged, "We've been utterly defeated this time."

"Inglourious Basterds" didn't win a single award, not even a consolation prize from the jury.

Harvey saw clearly, "With Ajani's appearance, we scored less than zero in Yuper's eyes; we scored negative."

Quentin glanced at his watch, "It's about time, let's go, back to Los Angeles." He knew his old buddy's breadth of character didn't match his belly and consoled him, "Winning and losing are normal in competition—don't take it too hard. Just win it back next time."

Harvey smiled and shook his head. Their positions were different, so of course, they cared to different extents.

Quentin was only a director, screenwriter, and producer.

But Harvey was the investor. Not winning a single award meant that the invested PR and marketing funds were wasted, and the subsequent market would be affected, too.

But there was nothing to be done at the moment. After all, Harvey couldn't just barge into the award ceremony, drag Martin out, and execute him for ten minutes.

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He guessed that before he could off Martin, he'd be taken out with a headshot instead.

Harvey had a mental ledger, and he remembered each entry crystal clearly, adding this new one with Martin to the tally.

There would eventually come a day when old and new accounts would be settled together.

......

Inside the Lumiere Hall, Martin walked along the aisle toward the front, and when he turned at the fourth row, Mene, who was sitting by the side, waved at him.

"Boss," Mene said, not looking too well, with bags under his eyes.

Martin came by his side and patted his shoulder.

With a smile, Mene asked, "When are we heading to Morocco?"
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Martin replied, "The flight's the day after tomorrow, there's a press conference arranged by the crew tomorrow."

Mene nodded, "One more day to stay then."

Martin saw Charlize smiling at him from the front and said, "I'm going ahead."

Without saying more, Mene felt a bit of regret; this time he only had the chance to interact with Isabel Huppert alone, yet there were many more doyennes of French art-house cinema.

Sophie Marceau, Juliet Binoche, Emmanuelle Beart...

Suddenly slapping his forehead, Mene cursed himself for his shortsightedness and narrow perspective, realizing he had the whole of Europe to consider, like Monica Bellucci.

Up front, Charlize, in a mermaid dress, said, "Let me tell you a secret, I'm the presenter for Best Actor."

Martin seriously said, "Can we talk after the awards ceremony is over?"

Charlize agreed, "No problem."

Martin smiled, "I hope you'll be my lucky charm."

Charlize had a very favorable impression of her neighbor and said, "I hope so too."

Martin moved a few steps forward and took his seat in the second row.

Possibly due to the atmosphere of the award ceremony, David Finch again thought of the Oscars and asked Martin, "That matter we discussed last time, have the LAPD and FBI responded?"

Martin knew he was referring to the adaptation of the Santa Monica Pier incident and said, "I've contacted them, and they keep saying they're seriously considering it. Although we can adapt it without them, I think it's best to have their support."

"Without them, we'd be missing an important link," David Finch added. "I don't have much of a connection with either side, so I can only ask you to keep an eye on it for me."

Martin responded, "I call to check in every once in a while."

The award ceremony quickly began, and many people spoke in French, which Martin couldn't understand at all. He could only wait patiently and occasionally his mind wandered.

The awards were handed out one after another, from the focus sections to the main competition, and no single film was able to capture two awards.

The three major film festivals pay more attention to sharing the spoils than the Oscars do.

After British actress Charlotte Gainsbourg picked up the Best Actress trophy for this festival, Charlize Theron moved from backstage to the presenter's stage.

The South African actress didn't make any preamble, but simply opened the envelope, glanced at it, her eyes accurately landing on Martin, and smilingly said, "The Best Actor is Martin Davis!"

Applause erupted, and Martin clenched his fists in excitement and thrill. He stood up, embracing David Finch and Catherine Kennedy in turn, and high-fived several actors who reached out to him, before striding up to the stage.

Charlize handed Martin the Palm d'Or trophy and then passed him the certificate tied with a red ribbon.

Martin opened his arms to embrace her, and whispered, "Sally, you truly are my lucky charm."

Charlize smiled with a cool yet radiant glow, "Congratulations."

She gracefully stepped aside.

Martin set the trophy box on the wooden table in front of the microphone, so that the crystal glass front faced the audience, holding the rolled-up certificate, he said, "Thank you to the committee and jury for their recognition, thank you to Director David Finch and Ms. Catherine Kennedy, and thank you to every member of the crew..."

His acceptance speech wasn't anything special; it was all about giving thanks from start to end.

Now the holder of the Cannes Best Actor award, saying a few nice words about Cannes was expected.

Martin went through and thanked everyone around him one by one, then walked backstage with Charlize.

As neighbors and friends, they talked as they walked, seeming to have a very good relationship.

The new Cannes Best Actor of course attracted great attention, with cameras continuously filming Martin and incidentally catching Charlize as well.

The two entered backstage, chatting briefly with Charlotte Gainsbourg, who'd won Best Actress.

The European actresses Martin knew were all artists of high caliber, and he had relevant memories of Charlotte Gainsbourg, who had made considerable artistic sacrifices for "Female Hermit," a film by Lars von Trier.

The usual standards of European cinema far exceeded those of Hollywood.

Martin did not leave backstage immediately but stood aside to watch the final results of the award.

The Grand Prix of the Jury went to the French film "A Prophet," while the Palm d'Or predictably ended up in the hands of "The White Ribbon" director, Michael Haneke.

When Yuper personally presented the award to Haneke, there were quite a few murmurs in the audience.

The relationship between the two ensured that the Palm d'Or would undoubtedly face immense controversy thereafter.

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