In the weeks leading up to Christmas and stretching into the new year of 2017, Martin found himself enjoying a leisurely vacation in Atlanta. Away from the pressures of Hollywood, he even entrusted Lily with the responsibility of filling out his Oscar ballot, distributed by the Academy, leaving the awards season frenzy behind for a moment.
One cold afternoon, Martin made his way to the headquarters of the Coca-Cola Cult, a quirky name for the Atlanta-based operation that housed some of the company's most tightly-guarded secrets. He carried a large, nondescript box, which he handed over to his friend Robert, who raised an eyebrow in suspicion.
"Tell me you didn't bring another Oscar statue," Robert teased with a grin, his eyes narrowing.
Martin smirked, replying, "Oh, I just borrowed David Fincher's Best Director Oscar for a bit. I'll return it after this year's ceremony. You know, after I've made my mark."
Robert chuckled, understanding the game Martin was playing. "No worries, the security here is top-notch. No one's going to mess with this place."
Martin nodded in agreement. "Great, then let's get the ceremony underway," he said, a glint of anticipation in his eyes.
Robert, with a mock-serious expression, lifted the gleaming Oscar from the box and headed upstairs to conduct the so-called "Coke sacrifice ceremony," a long-running inside joke between them.
As Robert disappeared upstairs, Martin turned to Elena, who had been quietly observing the exchange. "Come on, let's get out of here," he said, gently tugging her arm.
Elena slid her hands into the deep pockets of her windbreaker, eyeing Martin thoughtfully. "So, are you really going for Best Director this year?" she asked, her voice both curious and amused.
Martin shrugged nonchalantly but there was a spark in his tone. "I've put in the work, so why not? Might as well give it a shot. Besides," he added as they stepped outside into the crisp Atlanta air, "no one's ever won both Best Actor and Best Director. It'd be fun to set a new record."
Elena raised an eyebrow, not fully understanding the intricacies of Oscar ambitions, but she didn't press the issue. Instead, she asked, "So, where to next?"
Martin's eyes twinkled with excitement. "I've got a surprise for you," he said mysteriously.
Elena sighed playfully but followed him to the car without another word. They soon left the bustling streets of Peachtree behind, heading towards Atlanta's lush, tree-lined suburbs. As they entered an exclusive neighborhood filled with sprawling estates, Elena began to realize this was no ordinary drive.
Bruce, a long-time friend of Martin's, was waiting by the gate of one particularly grand mansion. When he saw their car approach, he waved and opened the electronic gate, allowing them to drive through.
The driveway was lined with tall oak trees, and at the end stood a magnificent English-style villa, its timeless architecture framed by immaculate lawns. Elena's eyes widened slightly as she took it all in.
This was no ordinary house, it was a dream. Sprawling over three acres, the mansion boasted the kind of elegance she had admired in magazines as a child.
Martin parked the car and climbed out, meeting Bruce halfway. After exchanging a few words, Bruce handed Martin a slim file folder. Martin turned to Elena, holding it out for her.
"Remember when we lived in Marietta? We always talked about one day owning a Victorian-style mansion, just like this."
Elena, still processing the grandeur of the place, took the folder and looked at Martin quizzically.
He smiled and gestured to the house. "Go ahead, take a look around. If there's anything you're not happy with, the construction team can make adjustments. They'll work with your preferences."
Elena didn't bother with formalities. She knew Martin wasn't the kind of man who offered things lightly. Instead, she gave him a thoughtful smile. "It's beautiful," she said, glancing up at the villa. "I'll take it."
She began to walk towards the front door, her voice trailing behind her. "It's quiet, private, and spacious. Perfect for you too, whenever you're back in Atlanta."
Martin followed her inside, where the two spent the next hour or so walking through the rooms, discussing potential changes to the layout, talking as if they'd known each other for a lifetime.
As the holiday season drew to a close, the city of Los Angeles began to pulse with renewed energy. Awards season was in full swing, and the competition was fierce. In Burbank and Beverly Hills, sharp-suited agents and impeccably dressed public relations teams worked overtime, swarming every event, every gathering.
At Davis Studios, Warner Bros., and Martin's numerous sponsors; Coca-Cola, Brioni, Cadillac, and Cartier, millions of dollars had been poured into the relentless public relations campaigns designed to boost his profile and secure him a top spot among the contenders. Martin's film had quickly become the frontrunner, leading the pack in every metric.
His only real competition? Leonardo DiCaprio, who was pushing hard with 'The Revenant'. The battle wasn't just about talent or storytelling anymore, it was about who had the deepest pockets and the smartest strategy.
Two men, both armed with exceptional films and considerable resources, were locked in a high-stakes game to dominate awards season. Money, influence, and prestige were all in play, but Martin was determined to be the one to set a new record.
And as always, he was ready to do whatever it took to win.
When it comes to the Oscars, preparation is everything. The more groundwork you lay, the better your chances of taking home the gold. Martin knew this well and was leaving nothing to chance.
His popularity had been soaring for months. Everywhere you turned, there were glowing profiles and articles praising him, his performance, and most notably, his direction of 'Joker'. The media was doing its part, pushing the narrative that Martin was a frontrunner in the race for Best Director.
According to reports from his PR team, many Academy voters hadn't even seen 'Joker'. The screener DVDs that had been mailed out were just a formality. Directors, after all, were busy people, and unless a film had direct financial ties or personal relevance, they simply didn't have the time to sit through a movie.
But that was exactly why Martin's team had been so relentless in their publicity campaign. The goal wasn't just to get voters to watch 'Joker'; it was to ensure they 'knew' about 'Joker' that they couldn't escape the buzz surrounding Martin's direction. Articles from respected critics lauded the film, and Hollywood insiders were openly singing its praises.
Martin had returned from his holiday in Atlanta, back to the heart of the action in Los Angeles, and made it a point to be seen. He attended every industry event, every gala, keeping his profile high. Public relations managers were hard at work behind the scenes, canvassing votes and ensuring Martin stayed in the spotlight. In award season, visibility was everything.
And then came the all-important precursor awards. These early honors often signaled the direction of the Oscars, making them a vital battleground. For two decades, Oscar upsets had been rare, whoever dominated the precursor awards, like the Sentinel Awards, usually went on to win big at the Academy Awards. In fact, the overlap between the results of union awards and their corresponding Oscars stood at an impressive 95%.
Martin knew this and made a bold appearance at the Golden Globe Awards in mid-January. There, 'Joker' triumphed, taking home both Best Director and Best Feature Film. Leonardo DiCaprio, meanwhile, walked away with the award for Best Actor in a Drama for 'The Revenant'. Both films were building momentum, but 'Joker' was staying at the forefront of the conversation, thanks to its non-stop marketing campaign.
Of course, such aggressive promotion could backfire. The overexposure risked alienating some voters, but Martin's team was banking on familiarity. The more the judges saw of 'Joker' and Martin, the more likely they were to vote for it. That familiarity often translated to comfort, and comfort meant votes.
Martin had employed every possible, legitimate strategy to keep the film and himself in the public eye. Brioni crafted a custom suit modeled after the 'Joker''s iconic look, which Martin donned at key events, making him an unforgettable figure during award season. Coca-Cola had rolled out a special edition line with 'Joker'-themed packaging, keeping sales high. Cadillac even launched a replica of the 'Joker''s classic car, which sold remarkably well. Cartier wasn't left behind either, offering commemorative 'Joker' watches, further keeping the film in the spotlight.
Just before the Oscar nominations were announced, Martin solidified his Hollywood legacy by receiving his own star on the Walk of Fame, in a publicized ceremony that only amplified his presence.
And then came the announcement everyone had been waiting for. 'Joker' received eight Oscar nominations, including major categories like Best Costume Design, Best Sound Effects, Best Sound Editing, Best Editing, Best Cinematography, Best Adapted Screenplay, Best Director, and Best Picture. It was the most-nominated film at the 89th Academy Awards, solidifying its place as the movie to beat.
At Davis Studios, the atmosphere in the conference room was electric as the team gathered to discuss the nominations. Thomas, one of Martin's closest advisors, reviewed the results. "It's exactly what we predicted," he said. "The Best Director nominees are Mel Gibson, Denzel Washington, Kenneth Lonergan, and Stephen Frears."
Frears had been recognized for his work on 'The Queen', but Martin's competition was clearly Mel Gibson and Denzel Washington, two formidable figures in Hollywood.
Martha Kennett, the head of public relations, chimed in, "Both Gibson and Washington have invested millions into their campaigns. Their teams are working non-stop."
But despite the heavy competition, it was clear that neither of their influence matched Martin's. He had far more industry clout, and his PR machine was working overtime.
Martin leaned back in his chair, considering the next steps. "The final round of voting starts soon," he said. "We need to shift our focus slightly. Let's start pushing stories about Mel Gibson's controversial past, remind people why he's a risky pick. As for Denzel, bring up the drama from last year's 'Moonlight' incident. We can't let their momentum build."
The team nodded in agreement. Martin wasn't just playing to win, he was playing smart. With his aggressive PR strategy and calculated moves, the odds were stacking in his favor.
Everyone understood the implications.
Back in the day, Mel Gibson had made some explosive remarks, and it struck a nerve with a particular group in Hollywood, those in power, often referred to disparagingly as "Squids." His comments didn't just offend; they exposed a raw nerve. And the Squids? They had long memories. There was no way they would forgive and forget, which meant they certainly wouldn't be voting for him now.
The controversy from last year's Oscar debacle, where 'Spotlight' was mistakenly announced as the winner in the Best Picture category, was still fresh. That mix-up had ignited conversations about race and diversity, and while it had appeased some frustrations, it also set a precedent. This year, it was unlikely that the major awards would go to a black actor or director. The backlash from such a decision would simply be too complicated.
By late January, Mel Gibson's past had started making headlines again, plastered across entertainment media in bold print. It wasn't accidental. In Hollywood, there were plenty of people with long memories and sharp knives. The directors' guild in particular was filled with the same people Gibson had alienated all those years ago. The renewed focus on his missteps was a subtle but effective reminder to voters. It was a signal: 'This is not your guy'.
With Gibson's reputation tainted and the competition thin, the choice became obvious for many Academy voters. Even if they hadn't seen 'Joker', the relentless PR campaign had ensured they 'knew' about it. It was everywhere, Martin's name, the film's title, and glowing endorsements from high-profile industry figures. When voters were unsure or uninspired, they defaulted to what was most familiar. And Martin and 'Joker' had become unavoidable.
The film wasn't just successful, it was a sensation. By mid-February, 'Joker' had been pulled from most North American theaters, but not before raking in a staggering $548 million domestically. Overseas, it continued to play to packed houses, pushing its global box office to a jaw-dropping $1.288 billion. 'Joker' didn't just dominate 2016's box office, it crushed it, becoming the only film that year to pass $500 million in North America.
The hype reached new heights when 'People' magazine dedicated a special cover issue to 'Joker' in the lead-up to the Oscars. The feature lavished praise on the film, calling it, "'one of the best Hollywood films ever made, combining commercial appeal, social relevance, and artistic depth in a way few have achieved.'" The momentum was unstoppable.
On the last weekend of February 2017, the 89th Academy Awards unfolded at the Dolby Theater, as the world watched. This year, Martin, Leonardo DiCaprio, and Jack Nicholson, Hollywood's badass trio, arrived together on the red carpet, a symbol of their friendship and dominance in the industry. The media swarmed them, eager for a soundbite or two, but Martin, ever focused, declined interviews, flashing a quick grin before calling out to Leo and Jack, urging them to follow him into the theater.
Their seats, as expected, were in prime position. Martin, Leo, and Nicholson sat together, their respective 'Joker' and 'Revenant' teams nearby, filling the row. There was a palpable energy in the air as fellow stars and industry insiders constantly stopped by to greet them, offering handshakes, smiles, and hushed words of encouragement.
The results from earlier in the season were a good sign. At the three major union awards, Martin had taken home the Directors Guild Award for Best Director, while Leo won the Screen Actors Guild Award for Best Actor. 'Joker' had swept numerous categories, including Best Picture at several guild ceremonies. The pieces were falling into place.
Martin felt calm, having done everything possible to secure the win. His preparation had been meticulous, and now, he could relax and enjoy the ceremony with dignity. Leonardo, meanwhile, was much more at ease. After all, he already had an Oscar under his belt, so the nerves weren't as sharp. But Jack Nicholson? He leaned over, flashing a sly grin at Martin.
"You've got this in the bag tonight, you bastard," Jack said, voice low but amused. "That's your fourth Oscar, you know. Ties you with Katharine Hepburn. And you're just getting started. You'll set a record before you're done."
Martin quickly waved off the comment. "Don't jinx it, Jack. We don't know the outcome yet."
Leonardo, superstitious as ever, nodded in agreement. "Yeah, man. The game's not over until it's over. No celebrating early."
Nicholson chuckled but wisely kept quiet after that, though the glint in his eyes said he believed otherwise.
As the house lights dimmed and the opening music began to swell, signaling the start of the ceremony, Martin allowed himself a quiet moment. Everything had led to this night, the film, the relentless marketing, the high-profile appearances. Now it was time to see if it had all been enough.
The Oscars were officially underway.
In the upscale neighborhood of Beverly Hills, Lily was outside, orchestrating the preparations with the fireworks company. She pointed with authority, directing the workers as they carefully positioned the firework launchers across the expansive front lawn. Her excitement was palpable, even if the real celebration was hours away.
Elizabeth, with a sense of urgency, rushed out from the villa. "Lily! The ceremony's starting!" she called, waving her arms to get Lily's attention.
Lily turned, grinning. "Relax! Martin's award won't be announced for a few more hours. We've got time." She gave a quick glance over the setup before walking back toward the house, satisfaction in every step.
Elizabeth leaned against the doorframe, impatient but understanding, waiting for Lily to catch up. When she did, they linked arms and strolled inside, the soft hum of the television drawing them to the living room. The moment they entered, the live camera at the ceremony flashed to Martin, clapping enthusiastically.
"Look!" Elizabeth pointed excitedly as the announcement rolled in—'Joker' had just taken its first Oscar of the night: Best Editing.
Lily smiled, unfazed. "It's only the beginning."
Elizabeth, her voice brimming with excitement, responded, "We've got Best Editing. If we snag Screenplay or Cinematography next, Best Picture is practically in the bag."
As if on cue, the next award was announced: Best Cinematography. And again, 'Joker' took home the win.
Lily and Elizabeth exchanged a quick high-five, grinning from ear to ear. Their confidence was unwavering. Martin had already claimed the Directors Guild Award, with an overlap rate of 99%, almost guaranteeing his win tonight.
The only real suspense now was Best Picture, where anything could happen since it was open to the full Academy's vote.
---
Meanwhile, in Malibu, a different kind of party was in full swing. Mene's new beachfront home was bustling with activity. Celine Dion, poised and elegant, directed her staff from the kitchen entrance.
"Bring the fruit platters and the wine," she instructed. "But hold off on the strong stuff for now. Hurry!"
The servant moved quickly to follow her orders. Celine returned to the living room, where Chad, Marcus, Chen Hu, and several women mingled, laughter and conversation filling the space.
As the servant placed the fruit and drinks on the table, Mene's voice boomed from across the room. "Another major award just dropped!"
Chad, Marcus, and Chen immediately stood, clapping in unison.
Marcus, with his typical exuberance, shouted, "Bradt won an Oscar! That bastard owes us dinner tomorrow!"
Chen Hu, not missing a beat, asked, "Why not tonight?"
Mene, pouring drinks for the group, chimed in, "Because after the ceremony, we're heading to Martin's to celebrate!"
The conversation quieted, a collective understanding falling over the room. All eyes shifted to the television just in time to see Bradt, the screenwriter of 'Joker', accepting his Oscar for Best Screenwriter. Cheers erupted again, and even the women in the room turned their attention to the TV, sensing the importance of the moment.
---
Back in Atlanta, Elena sat comfortably in front of the TV in her newly furnished living room. She glanced at the clock, everything was happening as planned. Her brothers, Hall and Harris, were less focused. Hall paced back and forth, a baseball spinning idly in his hands, while Harris lounged on the couch, arms crossed.
"Can't you just sit down for five minutes?" Harris complained, his tone irritable.
Hall shrugged, tossing the ball into the air and catching it with ease. "Trainer's orders. I'm not supposed to sit for long periods. Gotta keep moving." His MLB career was on the rise, and a recent injury had left him cautious about his recovery.
Elena's patience was thinning. She shot a glare at both of them. "Will you two idiots shut up already? The awards are about to start!"
Her tone was sharp, commanding. Though both men had grown into their own lives and successes, they still knew better than to cross their sister when she used that voice. They fell silent immediately, turning their attention to the screen, though Hall couldn't resist one last mutter.
"They've changed the order this year. Best Director's being announced before Best Actor and Actress."
Harris, who had spent enough time in Hollywood to know a thing or two, nodded thoughtfully. "Yeah, looks like the Academy's shaking things up a bit. Maybe it's part of some bigger reforms…"
Before he could finish his thought, Elena's eyes swept over them again. They got the message. Silence fell over the room, and all focus returned to the TV as the anticipation mounted. The biggest awards were still to come, and everyone knew the night could change in an instant.
At the Dolby Theater, the atmosphere was electric as Tom Cruise took the stage to present the next major award. The room quieted in anticipation, every eye on him.
Leonardo, sitting next to Martin, leaned in and whispered, "Don't stress. You're still young. If you lose, there's always the next ceremony."
Martin shot him a sideways glance, his voice low but playful. "Even if I lose tonight, you'll still have fewer Oscars than me."
Leonardo's mouth twitched, clearly annoyed. He turned away, refusing to engage further.
Nicholson, seated beside them, shook his head with a chuckle. "Why provoke him? You know you're the worst at handling these things, Leo."
Leonardo muttered under his breath, vowing never to sit with these two at the next award show.
A few seats away, Denzel Washington sat quietly, his hand resting on his lap, the dark skin of his palm contrasting with the white of his cuff. He still held out hope, believing he had a shot. Maybe tonight would surprise him.
Mel Gibson, on the other hand, was unbothered. He leaned back in his chair, already resigned to the fact that Hollywood's elite, the "Squids" as he called them, would never let him win. But he had plans. One day, he'd make a film to expose their true nature, a scathing indictment of the industry that had sidelined him. One day.
Back on stage, Tom Cruise smiled warmly, his signature grin in full effect. He introduced the five nominees for Best Director, his voice steady, drawing out the tension. When he finally looked down at the envelope, he quipped, "Don't worry, folks. No mix-ups this time, it says Best Director right here."
He turned the envelope toward the main camera for a close-up, making light of the infamous 'Moonlight'/'Spotlight' mistake from the previous year. The crowd chuckled.
Tom opened the envelope, glanced at the card, and announced with a broad smile, "And the Oscar for Best Director goes to... Martin Davis, for 'Joker'!"
There was no shock, no gasp of surprise. The room erupted into applause, as expected. The Directors Guild Award had all but guaranteed this moment, but the excitement in the room was palpable nonetheless.
Martin rose to his feet, his face calm but his eyes betraying a spark of joy. He hugged Leonardo, Nicholson, and the others at his table before confidently making his way toward the stage.
---
Back at the Davis Estate in Beverly Hills, the celebration began the moment Tom Cruise said Martin's name.
"We won! We won!" Lily screamed, throwing her arms around Elizabeth, spinning her in a tight hug. Without a second thought, she dashed out the front door, yelling to the crew on the lawn, "Set off the fireworks! Now!"
A series of loud bangs echoed through the night sky, and within moments, fireworks exploded in a kaleidoscope of colors above Beverly Hills, lighting up the night in a dazzling display of celebration.
---
In Malibu, Mene popped open a bottle of champagne, the cork flying across the room. He poured glasses for everyone, raising his own high. "Here's to Martin, for winning Best Director! And here's to our new film, may it be a massive success!"
Chad, Marcus, Chen Hu, Celine Dion, and the rest of the guests cheered, raising their glasses in a unified toast. The room buzzed with excitement, the champagne flowing as they celebrated Martin's victory like it was their own.
---
Meanwhile, in Atlanta, the news of Martin's win hit hard, literally.
Hall, too excited to contain himself, tossed the baseball in his hand straight up in the air. Unfortunately, it sailed off course, smashing through one of the windows, glass scattering across the floor.
Harris shook his head, unimpressed. "That's a unique way to celebrate."
Elena, sitting on the couch with a smile stretching from ear to ear, didn't even seem to care about the broken window. "Leave it, Hall. Just enjoy the moment. We'll get it fixed tomorrow."
Hall grinned sheepishly. "I'm just so happy Martin won! I'll call someone to replace it first thing in the morning."
Harris, standing by the window, noticed something in the distance. "Look at that, fireworks."
Elena and Hall turned to see the sky lighting up in the direction of the Coke Cult headquarters.
Elena smirked, recognizing the familiar flair. "It's Robert and the others. They're probably celebrating Martin's win, too."
---
Back at the Dolby Theatre, a wave of spontaneous applause spread from the back of the room, where the general audience sat. People were on their feet, clapping for Martin as he made his way to the stage.
The energy rippled through the theater, reaching the media section, and soon more and more people rose to their feet, creating a thunderous ovation.
The cheers, the applause, the celebration, it all surrounded Martin as he approached the podium to accept the award that cemented his legacy. The night was his.
The entire Dolby Theater erupted in applause as the audience rose to their feet. Martin walked onto the stage, his heart pounding, but his expression calm. He approached Tom Cruise, who handed him the iconic golden Oscar statue. Martin nodded, offering a simple, "Thank you," as he accepted the award.
Tom Cruise stepped aside, giving Martin the stage.
"Thank you to the Academy and the judges for this incredible recognition," Martin began, starting with the traditional line but quickly picking up speed. "As a new director, making this film was filled with challenges, and I couldn't have done it alone. There were so many people who helped me along the way."
He took a breath, his voice filled with emotion as he continued, "Christopher Nolan and David Fincher were the best mentors I could have asked for. Steve Downton, you were the most reliable assistant, and Louise, you kept me grounded through everything, allowing me to focus on the film."
The audience listened intently as Martin looked around the room, his gratitude palpable. "I want to thank every single member of the 'Joker' crew, my company, my agent, the PR team, and everyone who has crossed my path. This award is for all of you."
The clock was ticking down on his speech, but Martin wasn't done. His eyes landed on his two friends. "Jack," he said with a grin, "I'm not thanking you because you always give me a hard time. And Leo, good luck out there."
The crowd laughed, and as the camera cut away, Martin gave a final wave before stepping off the stage.
He didn't leave, though. Instead, he stayed just behind the curtains, waiting for the next big moment.
Soon enough, Brie Larson stepped onto the stage, envelope in hand, ready to announce the Best Actor award. The 'Joker' team hadn't submitted a nominee for this category, but everyone knew where the spotlight was heading. As expected, there were no surprises. Leonardo DiCaprio, who had dominated the season, won for his gripping performance in 'The Revenant'.
Leo made his way backstage, clutching his own golden statue, and immediately spotted Martin waiting for him. They shared a knowing look, and Leo rushed over, bumping fists with Martin before pulling him into a hug.
"Congrats, man!" Leo said, grinning from ear to ear.
"Right back at you," Martin replied. "But we're not done yet. There's still one more award."
Leo laughed. "Whoever loses owes the biggest party of the year."
Martin smirked. "You're on."
A few moments later, Clint Eastwood took to the stage, holding the final envelope of the night; the one for Best Picture. The crowd buzzed with anticipation. Eastwood, ever the professional, wasn't about to repeat last year's infamous mistake. He paused, confirming once more with the director and the PricewaterhouseCoopers accountant. "This is the right envelope?" he asked, making sure.
The accountant nodded. "Absolutely. Triple-checked."
Satisfied, Eastwood strode to the microphone. After a few brief comments, he opened the envelope and declared, "And the Oscar for Best Picture goes to... 'Joker'!"
The room exploded into cheers. Leo turned to Martin with a huge grin, offering his congratulations. "You did it! Congrats, man."
Martin smiled back, feeling the weight of the moment. "Thanks, Leo. Don't worry, you'll be back next year."
As the people around them offered handshakes and hugs, Louise quickly gathered the main cast and crew. Together, they made their way onto the stage to receive the Oscar for Best Picture.
Martin reappeared from backstage, joining the team as they stood alongside Clint Eastwood, who handed over the coveted statue. The entire crew beamed as they held up the golden award, a symbol of all their hard work.
With both the Best Director and Best Picture awards in hand, 'Joker' had officially become the biggest winner of the night. It was a victory not just for Martin, but for everyone who had poured their heart and soul into the film.
As they all stood on stage, the applause seemed endless. It was a moment none of them would ever forget, a triumph of artistry, dedication, and perseverance.