Chapter 1071: The President is Also Human

The film was highly successful, as evidenced by the expressions on the faces of the professional film critics in the audience.

When a person shows an immediate desire to write something, it means the content of the film has profoundly affected them.

Whether good or bad, the film gave them inspiration to express their emotions.

Next came the phase where the principal creators came on stage for a curtain call and brief interaction and discussion about the film's creation.

A staff member walked up to Lance, bowed low, and half-squatted beside him. "Mr. CEO, the producer asked if you would like to go up and say a few words?"

"Or if you mind saying something if necessary?"

Lance shook his head. "I don't need to say anything. This is your hard work; the glory or the embarrassment belongs only to you."

The staff member quickly bowed and left. Barbara, sitting next to him, glanced at the direction the staff member left. "They want to use your influence for promotion."

Lance still shook his head. "My influence isn't that easy to use."

As a gang leader, despite his continuous efforts to downplay that role, the impact was still significant.

Before he came to the Federation, and even now, Federal external propaganda always included prisons and gangs as part of the mainstream social culture.

Federal people would never tell outsiders that they are also heavily prejudiced against gang members and those released after serving time in prison.

Especially in mainstream society, if they knew you were an ex-convict or had gang ties—

Even if you perfectly met their recruitment criteria, perhaps even being the only qualified candidate, they would still reject you.

Federal people never advertise this externally; they only promote the attractive aspects: liberty, equality, democracy, and human rights.

As if, in the paradise-like society of the Federation, there is no discrimination, no harm, and no racial conflict.

But what is the reality?

Only when they arrive do they discover that their claims of "multi-racial tolerance" are nothing but empty talk, with a hierarchy of contempt and discrimination everywhere.

Having a gang leader appear on stage for promotion could only bring negative public backlash.

This was different from merely attending the premiere.

Barbara didn't want to figure out the exact difference; she took it as Lance's excuse not to go up.

She quickly touched up her makeup. "Then you'll have to sit here alone. I have to go up with them."

Lance didn't object. Barbara set down a few personal items and stood up under the spotlight.

She turned and waved to the audience and media, walking onto the stage amidst the fans' screams.

There were sofas prepared on stage. She and the male lead sat on either side of the director.

Lance crossed his legs, watching the final "performance" of the evening.

The questions from reporters and film critics were inevitably sharp. One film critic asked:

"Director, most war films we've seen primarily have happy endings."

"For example..." He cited over a dozen examples where the lead actors, including supporting characters, survived and successfully completed their missions.

"But your film... I don't know how to describe it. A total of twenty-eight characters, none with extensive screentime, yet their distinct personalities and characteristics left a deep impression on me."

"It felt like every character was a living, breathing person, with both virtues and flaws."

"Every character felt very real. I love these characters, but I also have a question: why do they all eventually die?"

"The male lead survived, but he was severely wounded, both psychologically and physically."

"Finally, I noticed a detail in the ending sequence: when the male lead turns to leave, there is a tree in the background with a noose hanging from it. Is this suggesting the male lead will ultimately choose to take his own life to escape the world?"

"Why do you favor such tragic stories instead of a happy ending?"

"I believe the audience would prefer to see these people alive, reuniting, just like they came alive in the final photograph."

Faced with this question, the director glanced at Lance, who was seated in the front row. "Your questions are somewhat numerous..."

People chuckled softly. The solemn mood brought by the film was quickly dissipating. The director collected his thoughts and said, "Because war itself is brutal."

"We cannot ignore factual reality just because we need artistic creation. On the battlefield, bullets, shells, and any lethal factor will not deliberately avoid you just because you might be the protagonist."

"Regardless of who you are, the moment a shell lands near you, you will surely die; there will be almost no miraculous escape."

"I know the mainstream market tends to trivialize and romanticize war."

"War is no longer portrayed as a dangerous environment where conflicts are resolved through armed combat; it has become a backdrop for handsome men and beautiful women to fall in love."

"They might kiss passionately while bullets fly across the battlefield or express their hormones in the trenches."

"There are also war comedies that portray both sides of the conflict as simpletons."

"I am not criticizing their films or their forms of expression. I simply believe that my film should be more authentic."

"When we were filming our first war film, the Chairman of the Board, Mr. Lance White, discussed this issue with us."

"What kind of war should we show the audience?"

"War is cruel. The pain it inflicts is real, and we need to reflect on war and these traumas, not turn it into something romantic and entertaining."

"If someone beautifies death into romance or entertainment, they are a criminal."

"They are subtly guiding more young people to the battlefield in a misleading way. Only once they arrive will they realize the battlefield they saw in the movies is not the real one."

"This war may be ending soon, and we must leave something behind to warn future generations, preventing them from believing that kissing and comedy constitute war."

"Because besides those things, there is brutality!"

The director spoke at length, then glanced at Lance. Seeing no reaction, he breathed a sigh of relief.

Although Lance refused to go on stage, the director still found a way to use Lance's influence. He believed many reporters would focus their cameras on Lance, leveraging his prestige indirectly.

He paused and took a sip of water. "As for why we didn't use a happy ending..."

He took a piece of paper from his pocket and unfolded it. "This is a brief record of a frontline unit."

"Over the past two years, it has been almost completely wiped out and rebuilt countless times."

"Thousands of soldiers have been poured into it, yet today, it still only numbers two hundred men."

"They wrote an awe-inspiring saga with their lives and blood. To respect them is to respect history, and to respect ourselves."

It was not a direct answer, but it was an explanation.

The film critic was satisfied. He now had enough material, combined with his own thoughts, to write an excellent review.

The atmosphere in the room grew more heated. After discussing the core themes of the film for a while, attention shifted to the male and female leads.

"Ms. Barbara, I heard you underwent sixty days of military training. What was that like?"

Barbara, sitting on the sofa next to the director, clasped her hands together, looking deeply reflective. "I don't know how to describe it. I didn't know much about soldiers before, but now I know they work incredibly hard and face immense hardship."

"I feel deeply honored to have played a role in this film!"

"I also want to thank the soldiers for their sacrifices on the front lines, allowing us to enjoy a better life."

Her response was well-measured and avoided controversy.

The male lead's answer was much the same. After all, the core message of the film was clear, and no one could bypass it or contradict it.

The atmosphere remained lively. After the discussion ended, a raffle was held.

Based on the invitation number—the special movie ticket number—some film props were given away to the audience and the film critics through the raffle.

The film critics received an extra bonus: fifty dollars and a set of war-themed desk supplies.

After the premiere, Barbara returned to Lance's side. She was slightly euphoric now.

"They said backstage that the feedback from the audience and critics is excellent. This film might become a super box office hit, and there's a strong possibility it will win awards at the end of the year."

Tragic stories are often unforgettable. This is perhaps why tragedy, from opera to cinema, is easier to remember.

Comedies are forgotten after people laugh. Only the regret in a tragedy leaves a lasting impact.

Lance generally supported the producer and crew's goal of winning awards. "I will help make some arrangements."

Barbara's eyes sparkled. "Best Actress?"

Lance looked at her, pursing his lips. "I think you still need a little more seasoning."

Barbara was clearly a little upset. "I've already won a Best Actress award before."

Lance knew about that previous Best Actress award. "Wasn't that because there was no strong competition?"

This irritated Barbara. "I work hard, and I'm very talented. I can definitely do it this time!"

Lance was not optimistic. This was clearly a film centered around the male lead. Everyone, including Barbara's character, the battlefield nurse, died in succession.

She was killed by a shell two-thirds of the way through the film. If the female lead doesn't make it to the end of the movie, there's a structural and narrative deficit. The resulting effect wouldn't leave the judges with a deep enough impression.

Seeing Lance's expression—which, though silent, conveyed a definitive judgment—Barbara remained unhappy.

Over the next few days, Barbara was scheduled to do two more promotional events in the New Golden City.

As the economic center of the Federation, the New Golden City's box office performance was in a league of its own domestically.

The box office here was crucial to the overall film revenue and served as the data basis for evaluation by various assessing agencies and the film companies themselves.

If the film performed well here, they could use promotional slogans like "New Golden City Box Office Champion" to attract more audiences to the cinema.

In early-to-mid June, just before Barbara was scheduled to leave, Lance invited her to attend a dinner party with him.

For this event, Lance had a top-tier evening gown and matching accessories custom-made for her overnight.

Wearing tens of thousands of dollars worth of clothes and jewelry made Barbara a little nervous.

"What kind of party is this, exactly?"

She nervously held Lance's arm. They hadn't even arrived at the venue yet; they were still in Lance's car.

But looking at her attire and Lance's—he had even groomed his eyebrows—she sensed this was no ordinary party.

He had removed some stray hairs from his eyebrows, subtly refining his overall appearance. Though a minor change, it elevated his image.

He was rarely this formal. If he had been this meticulous before, he wouldn't need to groom his eyebrows specifically for this occasion.

Lance lit a cigarette and rolled down a window slightly. "The armistice agreement is being signed tomorrow. Tonight is an early celebration."

"I was invited to attend, and everyone brings a female companion. I couldn't possibly go alone."

"Besides, didn't you say so yourself last time?"

Barbara raised her hand, stopping Lance from continuing. Her cheeks felt warm again.

"I know!" she interrupted Lance, sounding a little apprehensive. "Who will be there?"

Lance took a puff of his cigarette. "Some Congressmen, the Secretary of State, the President, and some foreign diplomats."

"A very formal, yet not entirely serious, dinner."

Hearing this, Barbara took a deep breath. This was not what she had imagined.

"Am I... suitable?"

Lance looked her up and down. He had to admit, the tailor who made the gown knew exactly how to make a woman look alluring.

"Of course. You look absolutely beautiful!"

Barbara lowered her voice. "You know I'm not talking about that. Am I suitable to attend such a banquet, given my status?"

Lance gently shook his head. "Suitability doesn't apply to you, Barbara."

"It depends on whose arm you are holding!"

The confidence in his voice made Lance radiate a golden glow, even in the dimly lit car, dazzling Barbara!

She even felt a clear, self-perceptible sensation of physical arousal!

To describe her inner state in a more intense, explicit, and bold way: she wanted to have sex right now!

The motorcade quickly arrived at the venue, an obscure house in the suburbs of the New Golden City. The house belonged to the Vice President.

Celebrating the signing of the armistice agreement before it was officially signed was somewhat... inappropriate for the public.

Therefore, the celebration was discreet, with no reporters present. Nevertheless, everyone was noticeably relaxed.

After the armistice agreement was signed tomorrow morning, the war would be over.

In this moment, everyone—Federal people, Slad people, and Dantra people—felt exceptionally relieved.

Regardless of who won or lost, they had all achieved some of their objectives. In a way, this, too, was a form of perfection!

Lance arrived just as he ran into Senator Cleveland.

"I believe I've met this beautiful lady somewhere before!" Senator Cleveland greeted her with a smile.

His wife softly reminded him, "We saw Ms. Barbara in one of her films. Her performance was outstanding."

Senator Cleveland remembered then. He did not touch Barbara or shake her hand. In a formal social setting, a man should not initiate physical contact with a woman unless the woman offers.

Barbara slightly dipped her head in a gesture of courtesy while holding Lance's arm, and Senator Cleveland's wife did the same.

The two men, however, shook hands naturally.

"Thank you for your kind words, madam," Barbara responded gracefully. Although a little nervous, her overall demeanor was fine.

Senator Cleveland certainly didn't spend too much attention on such a "small figure." He quickly turned to Lance. "The President will be here tonight. I have already spoken to him about you. He might want to chat with you alone. Be prepared."

Lance nodded. "I will."

Senator Cleveland didn't talk to him much more, as there were many important people present whom he needed to attend to. "Have a wonderful time. You should know many people here. If you have any problems, come find me anytime."

Lance shook his hand again and said "Thank you," then watched Senator Cleveland and his wife walk away.

Barbara finally relaxed. She whispered, "My goodness, I can't believe you are so well-connected! That's one of the most powerful Senators right now!"

People's curiosity about Congress was akin to their desire to know how many eggs were in a chicken coop—they wouldn't stop until they found out.

Which Congressmen held the most power was not a secret to the public.

Barbara knowing Senator Cleveland was perfectly understandable.

She found it hard to imagine all the people Lance knew!

"He just said the President wants to see you alone?"

Lance glanced at her. "So?"

"That's the President!"

Lance remained composed. "The President is also human!"