"Director Quentin, I heard that this film is your birthday gift to Uma Thurman. How do you view your relationship with her?"
Quentin Tarantino had just left home and was about to drive to the Miramax headquarters. However, as soon as he stepped out the door, he was surrounded by a group of paparazzi or media reporters waiting on the side.
These people always loved chasing after hot topics. Whenever a new film was released, a similar situation would arise, and Quentin Tarantino had grown accustomed to it.
"Is your relationship with her intimate?" another person asked.
"How do you feel about those violent scenes in your film? Someone mentioned that you always come up with some twisted shots in your mind. Is that true?"
"Who? Who said that?" Quentin, whose temperament wasn't particularly mild, narrowed his eyes, glanced at the reporter asking the question, and continued, "That's called the aesthetics of film, understand? It's not gore. By the way, who said we can't express scenes of violence in a straightforward manner? And as for Uma Thurman and me, we are good friends, our relationship has always been fine. But I never said this film was her birthday gift."
"But those were revealed by your crew members. They even said that during the pre-production period, you delayed shooting because Uma Thurman was pregnant. Is that true?"
"Fuck, who's the damn snitch?"
The curse word caused even more excitement among the nearby reporters. One of them asked loudly, "Director Quentin, so you're saying this is true. Your relationship with Uma Thurman is indeed not ordinary? From "Pulp Fiction" to "Kill Bill", she's been the leading actress in your films. Is it because there's more than just friendship between you two? I've heard rumors that you and she had a romantic relationship..."
"That's not true. If any of you dare to write such nonsense, I'll sue you." Quentin was getting quite frustrated.
It wasn't about a breach of privacy; it was the uncanny ability of these tabloid reporters to spin stories. He was worried they might come up with some absurdity.
"But the thing is, someone saw the two of you staying in the same hotel intimately. Also, the period when she was pregnant coincided exactly with the pre-production of your new work. Is it a coincidence?"
The reporter seized the opportunity to relentlessly push the issue, throwing wild speculations with no concrete sources like they were going out of style. They were practically insinuating that Quentin and Uma Thurman had an inappropriate relationship.
Quentin was getting extremely irritated and couldn't bear it anymore. He directly pushed open the car door and began "debating" with the reporters on the street.
Amid the verbal exchange, his agent rushed over and pulled him into the car. Such words should not have come from a public figure.
Back in the car, Quentin's initial emotional reaction gradually subsided as he realized that his behavior was only playing into the hands of the reporters. Thankfully, he kept quiet and pretended not to hear.
The agent firmly honked the horn, started the car, and they finally managed to escape from the encirclement of people.
"Quentin, those people aren't afraid of causing a scene. Or rather, they deliberately want to create a scene," his agent, Ian, reminded, gripping the steering wheel.
Having spent so many years in Hollywood, Quentin Tarantino had grown quite level-headed. He understood these things. He knew these reporters had malicious intent, clearly attempting to trap him. He realized he could easily fall into their linguistic traps.
Quentin thought this through, but he still couldn't help but curse, "Damn it, a bunch of damn bastards."
His gaze passed through the car window and looked in the direction of his home.
Gradually, as the distance between them increased and even their shadows couldn't be seen, he felt his mood relaxing.
After a while, he remembered something and asked, "Ian, have we received the box office feedback for "Kill Bill"? What's the reaction?"
"It's not bad. The first-day box office revenue is $3,126,200. After the film ended, a considerable number of viewers highly appreciated the film's quality," Ian, the agent, said, glancing through the rearview mirror. He could clearly see a pleased expression on Quentin's face.
"Fair enough, but that doesn't mean much. We still need to keep observing."
As an industry insider, Quentin Tarantino was well aware that many of his fans initially came to watch his films because of his directing style. Therefore, most of the early viewers were his fans, and both box office data and audience reviews weren't entirely indicative of reality.
In truth, a real comparison would have to wait until a week later to see what the general public's perception was. Nevertheless, even though he said that, Quentin Tarantino was quite satisfied with the results he had achieved.
"Is there any other news?" he asked again.
"Miramax has decided to invest another $2M in promotion, and the film critics have been informed. Given the initial momentum of the film, it's believed that they'll intensify the buzz around its reputation. However, over the next few days, you'll need to participate in more promotional activities with the cast and crew to help build Miramax's campaign."
"I know that. Anything else?"
"Well, there's also..." Ian spoke somewhat objectively, "there's another new release in theaters called 'Saw,' and its quality is quite good. Based on the information I've gathered, their market performance is even higher than ours. Their box office is $3,767,500."
Quentin remained silent. It wasn't completely unbearable to accept the fact that another film outperformed his. Competition was like that—there was winning and losing.
The reason for his silence was that he was contemplating who this director, James Wan, was. He had never even heard of the name, and it felt like he had suddenly emerged out of nowhere.
The car continued to drive, and Quentin's destination for this trip was the Miramax office, where he was going to meet Harvey Weinstein and attend the evening party the company was hosting.
However, as they passed by a cinema, he could see a queue forming at the ticket booth from a distance.
Quentin's curiosity got the best of him, and he couldn't resist. He wanted to see what this film titled "Saw" was all about.
Since there was still plenty of time, he mentioned his intentions to his agent, Ian, and the two of them decided to buy tickets and watch the film.
Upon entering the theater lobby, the queue was still intact. Quentin was a bit curious. "Are all these people here to watch "Saw"?"
"I don't know, but the next screening is indeed for this film."
After waiting in line for a while, they managed to buy tickets and enter the theater. Since the screening hadn't started yet, they looked around and observed. They noticed that the occupancy rate was quite high, and they could occasionally hear discussions among the audience members.
"Hey, buddy, is this movie really that good? I was planning to watch "Kill Bill"."
"Don't worry, when have I ever lied to you? I attended the premiere last night, and this is my second viewing. Trust me, you won't be disappointed, and you won't be screaming in fear."
"Ha, you think I'll scream?"
...
"Holy shit, what is this... Ah... Ah...!"