[Chapter 94: He Wasn't Suitable for Our Crew]
On the TV screen, the video played once again. Under the guidance of host Megan, two video-linked guests shared their opinions.
"From the footage in the video, this was just a typical street altercation," bald-headed old man Adams stated first. "The reason it made the news and drew attention is that the white person involved is Hollywood star Josh Hartnett."
Steve Nutt immediately countered, "I disagree with that viewpoint. Did you hear what he said? 'Get lost, you disgusting bastard.' He clearly saw a Black man across from him and still said it. You might say it's just casual cursing, but look closely at the footage that followed."
The producer thoughtfully replayed the moment where Josh Hartnett was seen pinching his nose, giving it a close-up pause.
From the footage, one couldn't see the can of herring or sense the overwhelming stench. Transforming into a champion for equality and an anti-discrimination pioneer, Steve continued, "What do you see in Josh's gaze toward the person he pushed down? The first thing I saw was disgust! Unmasked disgust! And just look at his actions -- Josh covered his nose. Does he even find the other person's scent repulsive?"
He had also prepared some materials, holding up a picture of an old newspaper: "Do you know what this reminds me of? Nineteenth-century slave owners. Look at the preserved papers and images. That's how they viewed those slaves. It was a horrible chapter in history."
Adams retorted, "They might have had conflicts for some reasons we don't know."
The disgust evident in Josh's expressions and actions was so clear that he couldn't lie with his eyes wide open, so he blurted, "The disgust caused by conflict is not discrimination."
"That's precisely a kind of hidden discrimination," Steve argued. "If the person on the ground had been white, would he have had that expression? The most terrifying thing is this very hidden discrimination..."
Of course, the debate wouldn't lead to a conclusion; the show thrived on its controversy.
...
In a standalone villa in Santa Monica, Spike Lee lit a cigar and picked up his phone to call his old friend Samuel L. Jackson. "Catch Channel 11's Midnight Entertainment; you need to check it out. It's quite interesting."
...
On the other side, Samuel L. Jackson had only watched for a short while before calling director Clark Johnson. "Director, you need to check out Channel 11's Midnight Entertainment."
...
Clark was watching, his brow furrowed.
If he had enough clout in the crew, he would have kicked Josh Hartnett off the audition right then.
In the eyes of many Black people, particularly those constantly spouting off about equality, even a lack of special treatment equated to discrimination.
...
As the show wrapped up, Hawke turned off the television in the reception room and stepped out with Caroline.
He told Miss Baa, "You go ahead. Call Steve in a few minutes and make sure he leads the charge tomorrow."
"Steve is already being proactive," Caroline said, her Hermes bag in hand, as she clacked away in her red high heels.
Not long after, Megan, emerging from the studio, walked over to Hawke and asked, "What are you thinking about?"
Hawke replied, "I might have opened a Pandora's box."
Megan thought he was referring to the role dispute. "The competition behind the scenes in Hollywood is fierce. For an actor to break through, it means using all sorts of strategies to step on the heads of hundreds or even thousands."
She felt something was off. "You wouldn't care about that."
Hawke smiled. "The Black rights movement."
"It's unstoppable," Megan replied, gazing out into the night. "Things may not be clear elsewhere, but here in California, the tide can't be resisted."
Hawke assessed Megan's short skirt, sheer stockings, and high heels. "Let's go to your place; I want to thank you properly for your help."
Megan replied, "I've got to take off my makeup first."
But Hawke insisted, "You don't need to. You look perfect just like this."
Megan went to her office to grab her bag, and they took the elevator down together.
...
The two got into Megan's BMW 7 series and headed to Westwood. Along the way, Megan's work phone vibrated incessantly, but she didn't answer a single call.
Hawke could guess why: "Do you get a slew of calls every time a hot news story breaks?"
Megan replied, "In the beginning, I'd pick up. It was okay when it came from friends or relations talking favors, but some are just abuse and threats. I exposed many of their scandals, so you can imagine how they feel."
Hawke turned onto Olympic Boulevard, "As long as Fox is around, these things aren't a problem."
Megan nodded. "Fox is my biggest support."
Just then, Hawke's phone rang. It was Edward calling.
"Boss, Johnson was in a car crash on 17th Street. I have exclusive footage from the scene."
Hawke replied, "You can sell it to a media outlet. It needs to be out by tomorrow."
Megan asked, "What happened?"
Hawke summarized, "The Savior captured Johnson's car crash; I told him to find a place to sell it."
Megan wasn't too interested in this trivial news that couldn't be explored further.
...
In Sherman Oaks, a Toyota sped down Ventura Boulevard.
Agent Will asked the PR manager in the passenger seat, "Julius, is the phone still not connecting?"
"Josh's phone still isn't picking up," Julius tried the landline, but had the same result.
Will asked again, "What about Fox Channel 11?"
Julius snapped his phone shut. "I called the production team, but Megan Taylor has already left for the day. I also tried her mobile but still received no response."
Will fumed. "That bitch! Thinking she can mess with us thanks to Fox's backing! If she's going to play us like this, at least give us a heads-up."
Julius shrugged. "Fox has always had this style. Don't blame me for not warning you. Focus on the issue, not the individual."
He continued, "A while back, there was the Miller Collins incident. The crew allied with Miller directly targeted Megan, and they just scratched her car. But then Fox contacted the LAPD, and the entire Dwarfs' Gang was eradicated. I heard their leader's neck was broken and it was ruled a suicide."
Will comprehended: "Fox is warning us and instilling confidence in all Fox employees."
The Toyota pulled up in front of a small villa, and Will rang the doorbell, but there was no answer. He took out a key and opened the door, calling for Julius to come inside.
As soon as they entered the villa, they heard thunderous snoring.
Josh Hartnett lay sprawled on the couch, sleeping like a dead pig, with the scent of alcohol permeating the whole place.
Julius went to open a window.
Will called out for a long time before managing to wake Josh and helped the intoxicated star into the bathroom.
...
After nearly an hour of fuss, Josh finally managed to speak coherent words.
Will quickly recounted the report from Midnight Entertainment.
"That's not right; it's not at all how they reported it," Josh reacted, recalling what had transpired outside the bar. "I absolutely despised that bastard, I hated him to the core, but I didn't say anything racially discriminatory."
Julius quickly corrected him. "Remember, you didn't hate him. It was just a verbal spat; no other thoughts were involved."
Will frowned. "This situation seems off," he asked. "Did you annoy anyone recently?"
Josh shook his head. "No."
Julius reminded him, "Has there been any conflict of interest?"
"I've been competing for a role," Will recalled the audition for S.W.A.T. "Josh and I received a call from Kevin Spacey. He warned us to drop out of the audition."
Josh was surprised. "Was it him?"
Will thought about it for a moment. "It's hard to say. If this was orchestrated, your competitors could include Dwayne Johnson, Colin Farrell, or Jeremy Renner."
Josh, well-versed in the nuances of Hollywood, exclaimed, "Is the competition already that intense in Hollywood?!"
No sooner had he spoken than Julius's phone chimed. After picking up and asking a few questions, his face displayed shock. "I just got word -- Dwayne Johnson was in a car accident on 17th Street."
Josh froze.
Will was also taken aback.
Julius detailed, "An SUV suddenly malfunctioned and collided with Johnson's Ford Mustang. Johnson was paying attention and swerved a bit; the SUV originally aimed at the cabin only hit the rear of the Mustang."
Josh mumbled, "Is this still Hollywood?"
Will, being an experienced agent, was unfazed. "In business competition, everything is on the table. If this involves the lead role for S.W.A.T., not considering the fame and commercial opportunities, the pay alone is close to ten million dollars."
Josh felt a rush of adrenaline and started to sweat, completely sobering up. "I had an incident, and Johnson got into an accident. The biggest possible link here is Colin Farrell."
Will concurred, "Jeremy Renner is a newcomer with little competitiveness, but Kevin Spacey has threatened us before."
Josh slammed his fist onto the couch: "These bastards!"
"Hey, hey, guys, the most urgent matter isn't that," Julius interrupted. "Josh needs to clarify quickly that he isn't a racist, or this could lead to endless troubles."
Will shifted focus to this pressing matter. "You'll be giving a media interview tomorrow to clarify things, then we'll quickly find the people involved."
He asked, "Do you remember those people? Can you recall the vehicle?"
Josh replied, "I think I remember the license plate number."
He recited the plate number, and Will contacted someone to check it out late at night, but the result was disappointing. "The license plate is fake."
Julius added, "It would be impossible to find the person in the short term. A simple clarification might not be effective. Though Hollywood is mainly controlled by old white men, racial discrimination against Black people can't be brought to light. To cater to Black consumers, any actor tied to racial issues will encounter various troubles." Will agreed with this viewpoint. "Josh, you need to get rid of this trouble as soon as possible."
"What should I do?" Josh looked to the PR manager. "I can't just find a Black woman to play along, can I?"
This suggestion struck Julius. He thought of Steve Nutt, who appeared on the show, and an excellent idea popped into his head.
He grasped Josh's shoulder. "Find yourself a Black girlfriend fast and show off your love everywhere."
Will responded, "Ordinary Black girls won't do; it's best to find a well-known Black actress."
Josh glanced at his agent and then the PR manager. "You guys know I have a girlfriend. Ellen and I have been together for eight years."
Julius assured him, "I'll talk to Ellen; she'll understand."
Josh knew well that "understanding" meant breaking up.
Will, knowing Josh well, urged, "Look at how much you've sacrificed for your success. Are you really going to give up now? What about everything you've invested?"
Josh pulled at his hair in frustration. "Just give me a little time, a little time."
Will called Julius out of the room.
The two split up, one contacting the media, the other searching for a suitable Black woman.
...
The next morning, in North Hollywood.
A Jeep Wrangler pulled up at the NAACP Los Angeles chapter.
Steve Nutt got out of the car and quickly reviewed the notes Caroline wrote for him as he walked straight to the conference room.
Spike Lee stood up immediately, giving way to Steve, their much-needed vanguard and mascot.
Inside the conference room sat over a dozen people, both Black and white.
Steve picked up a copy of the National Enquirer resting on the table and pointed at the headline featuring Josh Hartnett. "I'm sure you all know what happened last night. A Hollywood star, paying no regard to his influence, made such a discriminatory act that we absolutely cannot tolerate."
The attendees voiced their agreement.
"This cannot happen!"
"We must respond!"
Steve pressed his hands down, assuming a leader's demeanor. "Brothers, this is a movie star occupying an important promotional territory in Hollywood, which will yield a significant societal impact. We need to fight back and demonstrate our unity and strength to everyone!"
He pronounced loudly, "We'll organize people to go to Josh Hartnett's events, to his agency, to his film set, and stage sit-ins to let everyone know the stance of us Black brothers!"
Spike Lee nodded, "I agree."
The rest responded in turn.
"Agreed!"
"Agreed!"
A large group of Black and white individuals quickly organized themselves.
...
The older members of the Black community had a unique way of crying out; they could rally faster compared to other minority groups like the Latinos.
Moreover, Black individuals were widespread across many industries, not to mention the presence of white liberals.
The gathering was registered at record speed.
Before long, the association received news that Josh Hartnett would be holding a press conference at the Beverly Hilton Hotel.
Following Steve's suggestion, the protest group split into two parts.
One group went to Hilton Hotel.
The other group hopped in cars to the S.W.A.T. studio in Culver City to protest the casting of a racist as the lead.
...
Half an hour later, dozens of Black and white individuals appeared at the Hilton Hotel entrance, showing off banners and posters, quickly becoming the center of attention.
The reporters originally attending the press conference paused at the entrance to take photos.
A bit later, Caroline's assistant Sasha passed by with Green, a Firefighters' Fund manager she'd met once, driving toward Century City, having picked up some specialty desserts nearby.
Sasha glanced toward the hotel entrance. "Are they having an event over there? It looks like someone is protesting."
Green also took a look, seeing a massive banner that read Josh Hartnett and Racism Against Black People.
This reminded him of a business project they were involved in.
Passing by a newsstand, Green stopped the car and asked Sasha to grab a few newspapers.
After dropping Sasha off at Century City, he took a look at the newspapers, most of which featured negative reporting about Josh Hartnett.
Last night, it appeared that Josh Hartnett had allegedly racially discriminated against a Black person.
Green called Sasha and immediately revved up his engine, speeding toward Culver City.
...
Near the Sony Columbia Studios, outside the S.W.A.T. studio.
Hawke parked his car in the shade of the building and took a bottle of water from the door compartment, handing it over to Caroline in the passenger seat.
She pointed toward the studio entrance. "They've arrived."
Hawke looked and saw a mini bus and two full-size vans parked on the side of the road, with dozens of white liberals and older Black folks stepping down one after the other.
These individuals were highly skilled; they quickly set up their prepared materials and raised them.
They sat down on the studio entrance's sidewalk without making any aggressive moves, clearly seasoned professionals in the protest trade.
Caroline received a phone call and told Hawke, "Green, the business manager from the third-party insurance, is on his way over."
Hawke advised her, "You should treat your assistant to a nice dinner."
Caroline smirked. "I'll give her a bonus for this; I won't sleep easy without paying her."
Hawke noted a sedan pulling up on the studio side. "Director Clark Johnson has arrived."
...
Clark stepped out of the car, glanced at the older Black folks sitting quietly in protest, his expression turning grave as he hurried into the studio and headed upstairs to the producer's office.
Leonard Goldberg was looking out the window at the gathering outside when he saw Clark arrive. He asked, "Did you come here for this?"
Clark nodded. "My personal recommendation is to cancel Josh Hartnett's last audition invitation. Collaborating with a racist reflects very poorly on the crew."
Leonard's assistant, Teddy, had often defended Josh in front of him.
Being an older producer, he regarded this assistant, raising a hand to stop Clark. "I'll give this matter my serious consideration."
Clark only had the right to suggest; he spoke softly, "Please respect my feelings on the matter."
Leonard nodded slightly.
Clark was left with no choice but to leave.
Leonard hesitated a bit, sitting in the office and contemplating.
From a risk assessment perspective, letting go of Josh Hartnett was the wisest choice, especially since the crew hadn't invested any resources in him and there were no sunk costs.
But as an older man, he also needed to respect Teddy's opinion, who would handle many specific tasks.
...
After a long period had passed, Leonard found himself dozing off, there was a knock on the office door from outside.
Green, the business manager from the Firefighters' Fund insurance company, walked in.
Leonard perked up. "What a rare visit."
Green politely smiled and said, "There's a potentially significant risk to the crew, so I had to make a trip."
Upon hearing this, Leonard understood immediately. "About Josh Hartnett?"
Green directly stated, "Having a racist potentially playing the lead role could tarnish the crew's reputation, impact creditworthiness, and create issues with financing, thereby increasing third-party insurance risks."
He pointed towards the window. "The insurance company can't cover a racist."
If the director objected, that would be one thing, but with the insurance company opposing it too, Leonard had to think carefully.
He paused momentarily, then picked up the phone and dialed a number. "Please notify Josh Hartnett's agent that Josh Hartnett isn't suitable for our crew."
*****
https://www.patreon.com/Sayonara816.