"You know, all my life, I've only ever wanted to own my performance."
Standing on a stage as smooth as a mirror, Naomi Watts finally shed her ugly prison clothes and donned a sexy, tight, short dance dress, fully showcasing her exquisite curves in front of the camera. She looked beautiful, proud, and seemed arrogant, much like the top stars of Hollywood. Perhaps this also reflected her inner feelings after years of relentless effort.
"But things never go as planned," she wiggled her finger, "I always hit walls everywhere I turned in this vast world. Then Amos came along—reliable, safe, and adorable Amos…"
Duke took his eyes off the monitor and glanced at Naomi Watts in front of the camera. Stripping away the overly negative traits like vulgarity and malice, this character shared some similarities with Naomi Watts' experiences—both yearning for their own stage to perform, pursuing it relentlessly but never quite attaining it.
Perhaps this was why she had shown a clear deviation in capturing the character during this scene, shaping Roxie into a star radiating brilliance.
"Cut!"
There was no point in continuing the shoot. After Duke called for a stop, the music and Naomi Watts' monologue immediately ceased. He turned to the stage and said, "Naomi, come here."
Naomi Watts quickly walked over and looked at Duke. "Did I make another mistake?"
These past three months of filming had been nothing short of a nightmare. Not only was she under immense psychological pressure, but there was also the physical and mental toll. Especially the dance scenes—each one ended with blood blisters on her feet.
But she had gained so much at the same time. The young director's strict demands, his tireless coaching, and the guidance he provided had all visibly improved her skills. She even felt she could now take on any role requiring extreme acting skills.
Effort and reward—a perfect summary of the past 100-plus days.
Turning off the monitor, Duke faced her and asked, "Naomi, what kind of character is Roxie?"
"Petite and beautiful. Dreams of being a dancer and singer," Naomi Watts answered without hesitation. "She's ignorant, malicious, vain, and unscrupulous—a morally bankrupt woman as venomous as a snake."
Duke slammed his hand on the armrest, producing a loud thud. He asked, "Do you think your performance just now resembled a vulgar, malicious woman mocking her kind husband? Or did it look like a star radiating brilliance?"
Naomi lowered her head, thinking.
This was the last scene, and Duke didn't want to drag it out any longer. He simply said, "Your performance was charming and attractive, but a woman's allure comes in different types and tiers. Roxie looks down on her husband and even mocks him sexually. This is her solo act but entirely within her imagination. You need to speak, entertain, and even tease an audience that doesn't exist but exists in Roxie's fantasy."
Taking a sip of coffee, Duke continued, "This is nothing but Roxie's daydream, showcasing the basest kind of feminine charm. Think of it this way—she's just being provocative."
"Duke," Naomi looked at him with a complex expression. "I know what to do now."
Duke waved her off. "Go rest. We'll start again in ten minutes."
After the brief break, everything was ready, and shooting resumed. Perhaps Duke's pointers had made an impact, as Naomi Watts' performance was stunning this time.
Her monologue, delivered in sync with the music, carried a sense of humor, making her disdain for her husband evident. Her dance was lazy yet confident, but paired with the shiny silver short dress, it appeared distinctly vulgar. Her exaggerated movements and seductive expressions resembled those of a low-grade dancer, nowhere near the star Roxie aspired to be.
After a brief singing segment, the prepared background dancers joined the stage, using a group dance to frame Roxie as the centerpiece. She stood in the middle, seemingly becoming the focal point of Chicago.
Finally, Naomi Watts walked onto the red "Roxie" stage, her coquettish posturing reminiscent of a display girl just out of the red-light district.
"Great!" Duke exhaled a long breath. "That's a wrap!"
As his voice rang out, sighs of relief echoed throughout the studio. The 110-day shoot had nearly driven the crew to collapse.
Not to mention the others—Duke, the director himself, was physically and mentally exhausted. He had spent more time and energy on Chicago than even Speed.
Eighty percent of this could be attributed to his lack of professional musical training.
Turning off the monitor, Duke clapped his hands to grab everyone's attention and said, "This has been an extraordinary experience for our team, a completely new challenge. I know everyone is tired and looking forward to a break, but it's not time to relax yet."
He smiled. "I've already arranged a party with Johnny Depp at his Viper Room tomorrow night. You know what's there."
The initially drained faces of the crew lit up, and some younger members even cheered. Depp's bar was a legendary Hollywood hotspot, filled with beautiful women and handsome men.
The studio gradually quieted as everyone got back to work. Duke inspected the day's footage when Naomi Watts, freshly de-glammed, approached. After greeting Tina Fey, she came to Duke.
"Thank you, Duke," she said, her eyes filled with complex emotions. "Thank you for giving me this opportunity."
"Naomi, this is the result of your hard work."
Duke had no intention of continuing their relationship. He gently patted her shoulder and said, "Remember what I told you? Set your sights, don't hesitate, and keep working hard. Maybe the next time we collaborate, you'll already be a top actress."
Their physical relationship had ended over a year ago, and Duke felt he had repaid the favor she had done for him during the fire.
Duke knew this, and so did Naomi Watts. Their initial relationship had stemmed more from physical need than anything else.
As Naomi walked away, Duke looked at her back without regret or attachment. This was Hollywood, where relationships began and ended constantly. This was North America, a land that valued personal freedom. No woman aiming for success would willingly play the role of a man's toy.
Moreover, Duke had never seen himself as the center of the world—or even of Hollywood. Women who entered this industry didn't want to be appendages, as Sophie Marceau had demonstrated.
They had always had a straightforward relationship, simple when it began and just as simple when it ended.
"What are you thinking about?"
A familiar voice interrupted his thoughts. Catherine Zeta-Jones stopped behind him. "Still thinking about the film?"
Turning his head, Duke looked at her. "The shoot is done; it's time to ramp up promotions."
Broadway, running north from Battery Park to the length of Manhattan Island, is synonymous with American theater and musicals due to its many theaters.
At nightfall, Broadway's heart at 42nd Street was brightly lit. Though musicals were no longer as glorious as they once were, they still attracted a large audience. Especially this season, the classic Chicago, reimagined after over a year of revision, was back on stage, drawing nostalgic crowds.
The stretch near Times Square boasted dozens of theaters. A massive billboard, often reserved for hot musicals, stood prominently near the Chicago theater, its flashy design grabbing the attention of passersby.
What stood out most on the billboard were the three movie leads. Tom Cruise, dressed in a sharp vintage suit, stood in the center, flanked by two glamorous women in contrasting black and white dresses. Their combined charm easily outshone the stage cast.
Although musicals weren't judged by appearances, the handsome and beautiful leads undoubtedly attracted attention.
The billboard's bold slogan read, "Equally Brilliant, A Different Chicago!" It accompanied the play's entire run, with the film leveraging the stage production for its promotion.
The North American release of the film was strategically set for Thanksgiving and Christmas.
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