The New Year had just dawned, and Martin, in need of a well-deserved break, decided to whisk Lily and Elizabeth away to a sun-kissed retreat. He borrowed Leonardo's private island in the Caribbean, where the trio indulged in the luxurious escape, basking in the warmth of the sun and the serene rhythm of the waves. Time seemed to stretch endlessly as they enjoyed this rare, extended vacation. By the time they finally returned to Los Angeles, the city was buzzing with the aftermath of the Golden Globe Awards.
The Golden Globes had just wrapped up, and "La La Land" was the talk of the town. The film had swept the awards, bagging top honors, including Best Picture, Best Actor, and Best Actress in the Musical or Comedy category. Amidst the celebrations, Saoirse Ronan, too, had reached a milestone in her career, clinching the most significant acting award of her life.
To mark the occasion, Saoirse hosted a celebratory party, but she kept the guest list intimate, inviting only a select few of her closest girlfriends, those she had bonded with over the years. Although once a frequent visitor to Martin's home and a neighbor to Kristen Stewart, she chose to keep this gathering small, opting for the company of the Fanning sisters and the three Stallone sisters.
As the evening wore on, the group gathered around Saoirse, their eyes gleaming with a mix of admiration and envy as they marveled at her Golden Globe trophy. Sophia Stallone, the eldest of the Stallone sisters, couldn't help but run her fingers over the shiny award. "Golden Globe Award for Best Actress," she mused, her voice laced with envy. "We haven't even figured out what acting really is, and here you are, holding this huge achievement."
Her sister Sistine chimed in, a playful pout on her lips. "You're an actress too, Sophia, but let's be honest, you don't have a role that anyone remembers."
The youngest Stallone, Scarlett, who at twelve had already soaked in more Hollywood gossip than most adults, smirked and said, "Sophia, you're as clueless as a pig, no talent at all."
Elle Fanning couldn't resist joining in the teasing but directed her curiosity toward Saoirse. "So, what's the secret of your success? What's your magic formula?"
Saoirse, always humble, smiled warmly. "I've been really fortunate. I had a great teacher. Martin has helped me more than I can express."
Dakota Fanning, who had seen her own career wane as she transitioned from child star to adult roles, sighed wistfully. "Who wouldn't want a mentor like Martin?"
Sophia moved closer, wrapping an arm around Dakota's shoulders. "If you'd had someone like Martin guiding you, things might have been different. That transition wouldn't have been so rough."
Dakota's expression darkened for a moment. Before she turned fifteen, she had been one of the brightest child stars in Hollywood. But as the years passed, the roles dried up. Now, she was struggling to land even supporting parts, let alone lead roles.
Ellie, curious by nature, leaned in. "Saoirse, even with Martin as your mentor, surely there's more to it. What did you have to do to get such special attention from him?"
The Stallone sisters perked up at the question, their ears practically twitching with curiosity. Growing up in Hollywood had made them adept at sniffing out scandal and gossip, and they were eager to hear Saoirse's take.
Understanding the underlying implications of Ellie's question, Saoirse decided to be candid, though she kept her tone light and playful. "Honestly, it's nothing too dramatic. I often dance for him, we play some games together, you know, just keeping things fun."
Sophia couldn't hold back her curiosity any longer. "So, according to some rumors around, Martin is quite...strong?"
Saoirse laughed, unbothered by the insinuation. "Strong? Oh, absolutely. Not just physically, but he's technically brilliant, too. To be honest, it's hard for one person to handle it. Every time, it's like I lose control, I get so swept up that I don't think about anything. My mind goes blank, and all I want to do is fly, fly so high that I wouldn't care if I never came down."
The girls hung on her every word, fascinated by her openness. They leaned in closer, peppering Saoirse with questions as if they were sharing secrets with a lifelong friend.
Saoirse answered what she could, carefully navigating the delicate balance between truth and discretion. Her candidness only deepened the bond among the group. As they exchanged stories and confided in one another, the girls found themselves growing closer, forming the kind of friendships that only those who have survived the tumult of Hollywood together could understand.
This new generation of Hollywood girls, raised amidst the chaos and allure of the entertainment industry, were bold, curious, and unafraid to play the game.
As the conversation turned serious, Saoirse added thoughtfully, "Even after the fall of Harvey Weinstein, things have improved, but let's not kid ourselves. If an actress wants to make it in Hollywood, it's almost impossible without the right support."
The girls nodded, understanding all too well the complexities of the industry they had chosen. The night carried on, filled with laughter, whispered confessions, and the unspoken understanding that in their world, success always came with a price.
Dakota, ever aware of the challenges in Hollywood, sighed deeply. "You're absolutely right. It's better to stick with one reliable person than to get involved with too many who make promises they never keep. In this industry, people like Martin, who actually follow through, are rare."
Ellie nodded, understanding all too well the harsh reality. Her sister had been a perfect example; flitting from one promise to the next, playing the game with many, but reaping little in return. The fickle nature of Hollywood had taught her some hard lessons.
Saoirse, feeling a deep sense of gratitude, chimed in, "I consider myself incredibly lucky. I found a mentor early on who didn't just teach me with care but kept every single promise he made."
Dakota's eyes flickered with envy. "I met Martin years ago, but unfortunately, things didn't work out the way I'd hoped…"
Elle Fanning jumped in, trying to lighten the mood. "I worked with Martin on 'The Curious Case of Benjamin Button.' I played the same character as Elizabeth Olsen."
Saoirse perked up at the memory. "Oh, Martin remembered you from that. He said you were a very soulful actress."
Elle's face lit up with surprise. "Really? He said that about me?"
Sophia, ever the one to seek validation, couldn't resist. "Didn't Martin say anything about me?"
Saoirse smiled warmly. "You three sisters are all so remarkable. Of course, Martin remembers you."
The group erupted into laughter, the camaraderie growing stronger with each shared story. As the conversation flowed, Saoirse suggested they make these gatherings a regular occurrence, a way to maintain their sisterhood. Everyone eagerly agreed, the idea of building a supportive network appealing to them all.
Amid the chatter, Saoirse turned to Sophia with a playful glint in her eye. "I remember you're turning 18 this year, right? When's the big party? We need time to prepare some fabulous gifts for you!"
Sophia grinned, "My birthday's in August. Don't worry, I'll send out the invites, and you all better be there!"
Elle chimed in, "I'm turning sixteen in April. I'm planning a small, intimate party, and of course, you're all invited."
Sistine Stallone added with a smile, "Allie and I are the same age, so we'll definitely have to plan something special too."
Saoirse raised her glass, her voice filled with warmth. "No matter our ages, we'll always be sisters. Cheers to that!"
The others lifted their glasses, their voices merging in a joyful chorus. "Cheers!"
...
The success of "La La Land" at the Golden Globes gave the film a second wind at the box office. In North America, it crossed the $250 million mark, while overseas audiences were just as captivated, bringing the global total to a staggering $511 million.
With the Oscars just around the corner, there was still potential for the film's box office numbers to climb even higher.
Netflix, always ahead of the curve, had already approached Davis Studio to discuss the film's offline on-demand rights. But Martin, ever the strategist, wasn't rushing into any deals. He planned to hold off until after the Oscars, where the stakes were even higher.
This year, the Academy had introduced several reforms to showcase its progressive spirit. The most notable change was the way the nominations were handled. Instead of announcing the full award list at the nominees' luncheon, they were now revealed at a press conference in advance. The luncheon itself would be reserved for the actual nominees.
In late January, the Academy announced the nominations, and "La La Land" emerged as a powerhouse, securing 14 nominations. These included major categories like Best Original Screenplay, Best Editing, Best Actress, Best Original Song, Best Director, and Best Picture. The film had tied the all-time Oscar nomination record held by classics like "All About Eve" and "Titanic."
But the news wasn't entirely positive. Despite its numerous nominations, there was concern that "La La Land" might not be strong enough to dominate. The sheer number of nominations could lead to vote-splitting, making it difficult for the film to secure the wins it needed when it mattered most. The pressure was on, and everyone knew the Oscars would be a nail-biting affair.
Martin's focus remained laser-sharp, and his primary objective was clear: secure the Best Picture award. As the awards season progressed, "La La Land" continued its triumphant march, clinching Best Picture honors at both the Directors Guild Awards and the Producers Guild Awards.
However, a murmur of confusion spread through the entertainment industry. Many were puzzled as to why "12 Years a Slave," a film that had garnered critical acclaim and seemed tailor-made for the Oscars, had mysteriously withdrawn from the race for several major awards, including Best Picture. The film's absence was perplexing, especially considering how well it aligned with the Academy's traditional preferences and the current social climate in America. But the reality was simple: the film's producers had not submitted it for those awards, making it impossible for it to be considered.
In early February, the industry gathered at the Ritz-Carlton, Grand Hyatt for the nominees' luncheon. The room buzzed with speculation and anticipation. Leonardo DiCaprio, though from a different film team, found himself seated with Martin, unable to contain his curiosity.
"I still don't get it," Leonardo began, leaning in conspiratorially. "Why did '12 Years a Slave' voluntarily step out of the Best Picture race? That film was produced by Plan B, and Jennifer Aniston has complete control over it. What's the story there?"
He eyed Martin, waiting for a clue. "How did you manage to pull this off with Jennifer Aniston?"
Martin, sensing the direction of Leo's thoughts, played along with a straight face. "Well, Leo, I took care of it. Quite literally."
Leonardo blinked, momentarily thrown off. Before he could process, Jack Nicholson, seated beside them, chuckled and slapped Leonardo on the back. "You really are dense, Leo. Of course, Martin took care of it!"
The realization dawned on Leonardo, and he broke into a grin. "So, it's really done?"
Martin, with a casual air, added, "To keep things fair, Jenny and I had a little competition. She even brought Julie into it for support, but in the end, I came out on top."
Nicholson couldn't resist another jab. "If Leo handled his competitors this way, he'd never win an Oscar in his lifetime!"
"Hey, come on now," Martin teased, defending his friend. "Leo's working hard, he's aiming to break 30 seconds in the 100-meter dash."
Leonardo rolled his eyes, realizing it was pointless to argue with these two.
Nicholson, always quick with a quip, turned his sights back to Martin. "You know, Martin, someday you should write an Oscar memoir. Imagine it, a detailed account of your Oscar journey, with tales of being a misunderstood hero, winning with honor, and engaging in some hand-to-hand combat along the way. It'd be an instant classic in Oscar lore!"
Leonardo's interest piqued. "Martin could become a true Oscar legend!"
Martin shrugged, smirking. "Or the second person in history to be expelled from the Academy."
The trio shared a hearty laugh, enjoying the moment.
Just then, Angelina Jolie and Jennifer Aniston entered the room, making their way to a nearby table. Aniston caught Martin's eye and smiled.
"You've really racked up those nominations, haven't you?" she said, her tone light but with an edge of playful rivalry.
Martin returned her smile. "Well, '12 Years a Slave' didn't do too badly either. I'd say it's got a solid shot at taking home the Best Actor award."
Aniston nodded toward Leonardo. "Don't forget, he's in the running too."
Martin pretended to scoff. "Sure, but when you tally up the real competitors, Leo's hardly a threat."
Leonardo threw up his hands in mock surrender. "Winning this time feels nearly impossible."
Julie, who had joined them, chimed in. "The top contender is Matthew McConaughey. He was phenomenal in 'Dallas Buyers Club.'"
Aniston sighed theatrically. "Martin, you owe me big time for all this."
Nicholson, never one to miss a beat, grinned wickedly. "Martin just told me he's planning to compensate you to the tune of billions. After this luncheon, I'll help you catch him, make sure you collect."
Aniston played along, smiling sweetly. "Thanks, Jack. I knew I could count on you."
Julie leaned in close to Martin, whispering in his ear, "We've got some special torture instruments lined up just for you."
Martin chuckled, knowing full well that he was in for a long, entertaining night ahead.
Martin grinned, unphased by the playful threat. "Don't worry, I'll make sure to use them on you first, one by one."
With that, the nominees' luncheon officially kicked off. This year's Oscars had undergone some changes; the nomination list had been announced ahead of time, turning the luncheon into more of a promotional event. It was a gathering where everyone mingled, ate, drank, and posed for the media, all in preparation for the upcoming awards ceremony just weeks away.
Despite the event's glamorous facade, there was an underlying tension in the air. Unlike previous years, the competition this time felt subdued. Whether it was because the Academy's harsh response to last year's controversy surrounding Ang Lee and "Life of Pi" had scared everyone into submission, or because Martin had chosen to stay out of the intense public relations battles, the usual ferocity of the Oscar race was conspicuously absent. The lack of drama had left the event feeling flat, with few standout moments to capture public interest.
As the nominees gathered for the traditional group photo, the Academy's leadership huddled in a nearby lounge, their expressions betraying their concerns.
Tom Sherak, the Academy's chairman, sat with a furrowed brow. "The competition this year isn't fierce enough. It's left us without the kind of highlights that drive excitement, and we're seeing a significant drop in attention compared to last year."
Kathleen Kennedy, the sole female vice president, nodded in agreement. "Last year, the email scandal with 'Life of Pi' sparked national interest. Everyone was talking about it."
Tom Hanks, always the voice of reason, added, "Maybe we went too far with the punishment last year. It seems like it's made the studios wary, and now their public relations efforts lack the usual punch."
Sherak sighed, the weight of the situation heavy on his shoulders. "We have to enforce the rules, but when we do, it stifles the enthusiasm of the contenders. Honestly, I'd rather have one scandalous controversy every year than this kind of dull, uneventful competition."
Kennedy pondered for a moment before speaking. "You know, a little mudslinging between competitors might not be so bad for the Oscars. It keeps the public engaged, keeps the buzz alive."
Hanks, ever the diplomat, looked concerned. "But we can't outright encourage them to go after each other. If we do, we risk compromising the prestige of the Oscars. How do we maintain our style if the event becomes a free-for-all?"
Sherak mulled it over before responding. "If the ratings fall below 20 million, and our influence continues to wane, maintaining style won't matter. We'll lose our standing altogether."
Hanks nodded, acknowledging the harsh reality. Without strong ratings and public interest, the Oscars' prestige would diminish, and the Academy would struggle to maintain its influence in Hollywood.
Kennedy, ever pragmatic, suggested, "Maybe we need to relax the rules a bit. As long as things don't get too out of hand, we can turn a blind eye to a little controversy."
Sherak agreed, though with a sense of resignation. "It seems that's the only option for this year. I just hope the ratings don't hit a new low. We'll have to start planning for next year early, make sure the competition heats up right from the start of the awards season."
Hanks, taking his role seriously, assured them, "I'll handle it. We'll subtly spread the word, encourage a little more competition, but keep the Academy's reputation intact."
The three quickly reached an understanding, their concerns for the Oscars' future aligning them on a path forward. They knew the challenges were great, and in this new era, the Oscars had to evolve or risk becoming irrelevant.
After the luncheon concluded, Martin prepared to leave the hotel, only to find himself intercepted by Angelina Jolie and Jennifer Aniston. Despite "12 Years a Slave" voluntarily withdrawing from several key categories, the sting of defeat was still fresh for Aniston. In true Hollywood fashion, Martin, as the victor, knew he had to show magnanimity after all, it's the American way to send a 'peacekeeping force' to the vanquished.
The day had been a mix of strategy and celebration, and as Martin was pulled into a private corner by Jolie and Aniston, he braced himself for what was sure to be an interesting, if not intense, conversation.