In the following days, things were still pretty much the same. Adrian and Kate wandered around the sights, sampled the local cuisine, and soaked in the culture, occasionally inquiring about "Memento," as if they had come to Berlin just for vacation.
Though films like "Silence of the Lambs" and other stylistic works gradually premiered across the theaters designated by the festival, reducing interest in "Memento," its fame had already spread. Critics mostly praised Dennis and Joe's performances—opinion on Kate was mixed, with some thinking she was superb, others not so much—and Laverne's capabilities were more than enough to ensure the film's promotion.
It was precisely because of this that Adrian let it be. He hadn't expected to win any awards at the Berlin Film Festival anyway. However, reality often surprises. At the award ceremony two weeks later, "Memento" unexpectedly won the Jury's Special Prize!
"Thank the judges for giving me this award," Adrian smoothly thanked a slew of people on stage, yet he mumbled internally whether those judges had lost their minds.
Although the Berlin Film Festival's Jury's Special Prize was akin to Venice's Best Newcomer Award, it still represented the acknowledgment of the festival judges. Even though these judges came from all over the world, those who could truly make decisions or influence outcomes at critical moments were still the filmmakers from Germany and surrounding regions, as was the case with Venice, Cannes, San Sebastian, and even the Oscars.
These festivals or film awards had their own themes and wouldn't randomly give awards to films that didn't fit the theme. Berlin Film Festival was about politics, while "Memento" had nothing to do with politics. Moreover, Best Director had already gone to Jonathan Demme—with "Silence of the Lambs" having some political flair, like the kidnapped senator's daughter—so there was no reason to give a consolation prize to another United States film. So why did the judges hand the Jury's Special Prize to Adrian?
Adrian was puzzled until he chatted with Laverne, combining his understanding to finally get it. The current Berlin Film Festival was far from what it would be ten years later, striving but failing to catch up with Venice and Cannes for various reasons, and even the title of one of Europe's three major film festivals was precarious. The recent reunification of Germany furthered this gap, while Adrian had just won the Venice Film Festival's Best Newcomer Award.
No director like Adrian had produced two high-quality films within a few months, one winning considerable honors and proving successful at the box office, while the other received high praise from critics, even surpassing the first. Given this, awarding him two Jury's Special Prizes wasn't a big deal—a consolation prize in nature, with two available, it couldn't be less than the Venice Film Festival. Besides, "Memento" was fully qualified to win an award.
Frankly, festivals or film awards were about sharing the spoils; having qualifications meant getting a share, but whether one got it depended on luck. Upon realizing this, Adrian no longer worried, knowing that Laverne would use this award to effectively promote the film.
After the award ceremony, the Berlin Film Festival, lasting two weeks, concluded. Adrian sent Kate back to London and stayed for two more days before returning to Los Angeles.
Subsequent activities involved waiting. The Berlin Film Festival opened on February 4 and closed naturally on February 18, while the end of the Persian Gulf War was on February 28.
Of course, Adrian wasn't idle. After "Memento" was decided to be distributed by Universal in North America, he resumed his typing life. Kate, back in London and Berlin, had eagerly asked about the "Tomb Raider" novel content, particularly since Adrian's plans now included the screenplay for "Philadelphia Story."
Overall, life was leisurely—not the tense editing room days from over a month ago. His only regret was Kate's absence, especially when recalling her fervent body and her compliance under his guidance. Since her last visit to Los Angeles, Kate had been entirely captivated by Adrian's experienced manipulations in bed, almost reaching the "XX off bed, XX on bed" level of dependency.
Thus, on that night in Berlin, Kate complained incessantly to Adrian. Complaints aside, things remained the same; after all, lovers tend to lack reason.
Time finally moved past February 1990. After the multinational forces in the Persian Gulf announced the cessation of attacks on the 28th, ending the 100-hour ground campaign, the Gulf War concluded after more than a month. Next was the time to count the spoils—military, financial tycoons, losses, and gains.
The phone on the table suddenly rang, startling Adrian from his thoughts. After hesitating, he picked up the receiver. "Hello, who's there?"
"Ed, it's me," Claude's voice came through, accompanied by heavy breathing, wheezy, as if he was struggling for breath.
"Hi, Crow, you finally called me; you kept it together. I almost thought you ran off with the money." Adrian, though his heart skipped a beat, kept a teasing tone. They hadn't contacted each other during this period aside from a brief word from Adrian to Claude on February 20.
"You know... do you know how much we initially invested?" The breath sounds became clearer, accompanied by the sound of fabric, likely Claude tugging at his necktie.
"Besides my 65 million, you added over 10 million, totaling just over 80 million," Adrian recalled carefully. "Now, stop stalling and tell me the specifics."
"...Ten times!" After a hard gulp, the voice came through.
"Ha, not bad, it multiplied ten... what did you say! Ten times!" Adrian nearly threw the phone. He opened his eyes wide, struggling to control his body, but his teeth still chattered loudly.
"Yes, that's right, ten times! You heard right! It's ten times! I damn well made this money ten times bigger, earning 800 million US Dollars!" Claude laughed wildly on the other end, like a balloon bursting with air rushing out.
Adrian widened his eyes, clutching his forehead and taking deep breaths. His breathing became as heavy as Claude's earlier. He never expected this result; initially, he hoped for a double or triple yield, aiming for 200 or 300 million, but the 80 million US Dollars unexpectedly turned into 800 million! It was indeed a hell of a profit! That guy Claude...
"Crow, you rascal..." Adrian tugged at his collar, as if this would make him more comfortable. "You're damn amazing!"
"Haha, I love that phrase, say it again, say it again!"
"You're damn amazing! Extremely, extremely amazing!"
The two exchanged banter filled with expletives, banging their respective tables in excitement, making "bang bang" sounds, as if this was the only way to vent their excitement. After a long while, the two calmed down on their ends of the phone.
"I really can't believe it, how did you do it, Crow?" Adrian asked from his high-back chair, his chest still visibly heaving.
"I don't know either; I didn't even think about it. My entire focus was on buying and selling; no matter how large the numbers, to me, they were just numbers. When everything ended and I looked back, I was genuinely shocked," Claude recounted, the joy in his tone quite evident.
"You're remarkable, Crow. Although I've said this countless times, I have to say, you're remarkable," Adrian sincerely remarked.
"Yes, of course," Claude laughed heartily. "You know, Ed, when I told the old man about this, his face was priceless; he probably didn't expect me to achieve this."
"I must remind you," Adrian said with some amusement, as all fathers and sons have similarities worldwide, "that 'old man' of yours is both your father and my godfather."
"I know, I know," Claude exaggeratedly sighed. "I just proved myself; is that wrong?"
Luckily, he added, "Of course, without the information you provided, I couldn't have achieved this—have you been fine recently? No men from the Securities Regulatory Commission looking for you for coffee?"
"Why, do you want them after me?" Adrian joked.
"Hehehe, I'm just concerned for you," Claude quickly responded.
"Alright, I get it. Are you free tonight? I think we should have a proper, detailed talk," Adrian said seriously, dropping the joking tone.
"No problem, Losata Restaurant, you're treating," Claude immediately replied.
"Okay, I'm treating," Adrian laughed.
After putting down the receiver, Adrian stood up, walked to the floor-to-ceiling window, and drew back the curtains with a swish. Los Angeles' eternally constant sunlight poured in, flooding the study with brightness. He stretched comfortably, squinting happily at the bright sky.
He hadn't anticipated such an enormous gain—not only the unexpectedly multiplied funds but also Claude... Very good, he could now select from his prepared plans; the rest was about convincing him!
(Alright, let's continue to ask for some recommendation votes to climb higher on the New Books by New Writers list~)