[Chapter 649: Half Ice Water, Half Flames]
Watching the nearly empty theater, Oliver Stone felt like he had been doused in ice water. Even though Christmas in Los Angeles wasn't particularly cold, he still felt a bone-deep chill.
"Is there really that much of a gap? It's only the second day, and with all that ad money, could it really have been wasted?" Oliver lamented silently.
...
In another cinema's IMAX theater, George Lucas was equally perplexed. He couldn't quite wrap his head around it -- how could William White make every movie a hit?
"Steve, it looks like animated films are still a gold mine. How's your animation project going? Need any investment?"
George was momentarily dumbfounded, but then quickly realized that if William White was betting on Pixar, he had no reason not to follow suit. This guy had made some serious cash over the last few years.
"That William White is just putting Hamlet in animal form -- it's so lazy," George scoffed.
"Ha! I actually think that adaptation is pretty clever. In real life, the prince would be taken out right away. Revenge? Ha!"
"No way, I need to poach his music team. If all goes well, that soundtrack will make a lot of money."
Lucas was somewhat skeptical; it wasn't impossible to recruit White's talent, but...
"Steve, you don't know who Jason Garrison is? He's behind not just MTV, but also Steam Engine Records. And you know all those Beatles song rights? He's the one who snagged those too."
"It's him? Looks like we need to talk about collaboration then. Those tracks are phenomenal. I bet African music sounds just like this."
...
William White was still on vacation, utterly unconcerned with these matters. If he knew, he would definitely tell George; sorry, but there definitely wasn't music in Africa right now -- just war, famine, and death everywhere.
The double whammy of The Lion King and The Departed had crushed Warner Bros.'s big year-end release to rubble.
Nobody knew what had gotten into Warner to insist on competing with White Films. After the new CEO took over, their past cordial relationship had taken a strange turn, and it was hard to pinpoint any rivalry.
If White Films were to strike Warner down, that wouldn't make much sense either. Their release schedule had been set far earlier. In fact, scheduling for blockbusters was very specific -- if you waited until three months before, you'd barely have time for any promotion.
Well, it was shaping up to be similar to Heaven's Gate. Same Oscar-winning director, similar flop status. Cough cough, next time, let's be more selective when inviting Oscar-winning directors.
C'mon, that Lion King beat out the boss's movie! Michael Eisner, that jerk, didn't he have plans for the future?
The entire year of '91 was essentially William White's solo show in Hollywood. With no rivals left, his own two companies were now at each other's throats. Hmm -- too many bombs, seems like a deliberate attempt to take one down?
Time Warner had completely lost their cool -- box office numbers were dismal, not to mention the flood of negative reviews.
The movie about Kennedy was highly controversial, especially since it stepped on some toes.
To be honest, if you're making a biopic, there's not much room for creativity in the plot. Putting speculative ideas on a big screen is somewhat irresponsible.
Yes, conspiracies exist, but everyone seems to want to stick their heads in the sand. If you present evidence, there's nothing left to discuss -- but alas, it's all speculation.
There's nothing wrong with looking at the world through a conspiracy lens; plenty of people do. But how many viewers would actually enjoy that perspective?
Dismal box office numbers had already made the point -- people preferred family-friendly films, especially in tough economic times.
While everyone else was celebrating Christmas, you had to come along and be a downer. Honestly, at another time, this movie could've done well. At least the performances were breathtaking.
...
"Dad, this movie isn't that popular. What's the purpose of these critics'?" Bush Jr. sighed. This was full of conspiracy and intrigue. He just couldn't talk about it.
"Haha, son, how did you tell that?"
"It's very simple. As an opponent, William White should take advantage of the situation. Now, his media has no intention of intervening at all."
"William? Of course he doesn't need to say anything. He has already won, so it is inevitable that he will be more dignified. It's not a life-and-death relationship, so of course he will be more generous. Besides, the more intense the quarrel, the more attention it will get. That slippery boy is not that simple."
William White's idea is actually very simple: you guys can do whatever you want, but it has nothing to do with me.
Want to use my media resources?
You guys should go to sleep right away, and don't even think about seeing any reports about me in my media.
...
"Dad, is Santa still going to come if it doesn't snow?"
"Cough cough, he will; there might just be a bit of traffic. Athena, go to bed early; only good children get gifts."
"Yeah, but you always sneak the gifts in! I love you, Daddy; you're the best Santa ever."
William White was taken aback; that clever little girl was surprisingly sharp.
"Alright, hurry up and sleep."
To be honest, William couldn't really be called a dedicated father. At least his family was certainly quirky.
Some things are just like that; being upfront about them doesn't necessarily make them worse.
Fine, some might call it shameless. Cough cough, whatever, it doesn't matter. It's all God's fault for giving men two brains. Most of the time, they prefer to use the one that thinks less.
For William, it was a pretty good year. He welcomed two more children into his life. As for how much money he made, who cared -- making too much might just turn him into the next Leo Wanta.
That guy could only stay in Europe now. What good is all that money if you can't return home? If things went south, his whole family could be in trouble.
...
On this Christmas, while William's atmosphere was warm and joyful, but the Africans were fighting. God chose to forget this place.
Meanwhile, the Wall Street bigwigs were scratching their heads. The new trading methods would bring unknown risks. They were the most conservative group in the world, instinctively rejecting any form of change.
Tradition was crucial. Ringing the bell before the market opened was tradition, and executing trades through shouting traders was also a tradition.
Now, those traditions were about to be challenged.
As for trading information, currently, the select few who were able to receive timely updates were the Wall Street elite.
Why are retail investors so rare in the U.S.?
Fear of being misled is just one reason; their lack of access to institutional channels is the biggest issue.
The flow of information determines vision, and vision determines your judgment. It's incorrect to say retail investors are mere speculators chasing highs and lows -- if everyone's on the same platform, it's pretty hard to say who's actually better.
Now, things were about to change. Without Bloomberg information terminals, retail investors couldn't be ahead of the game, but those fund managers who thought they could easily mislead others? That would be harder than before.
In the face of emergencies, it would be anyone's guess who would get the information first.
The elites on Wall Street disliked these changes but were helpless to stop them. This was the shift brought about by technological progress -- like it or not, it had its own set of operating rules.
*****
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