Chapter 210: High Sensitivity

Chapter 210: Chapter 210: High Sensitivity

Irene looked up: "I’m betting on Halle Berry."

Francis was slightly taken aback, his eyes immediately revealing clear surprise.

He was silent for a moment, then immediately understood the deeper considerations hidden in his daughter’s words, and couldn’t help but exclaim: "I didn’t expect your sensitivity to this aspect to have reached such a level."

As a veteran filmmaker who has navigated Hollywood for decades, he knew better than most that this year’s Oscar would inevitably produce a Black Best Actor or Best Actress.

This was an industry trend, a direction of public opinion, and even more so, the political correctness and attitude of the times that the Academy was eager to showcase.

But Francis still had his own doubts. He frowned slightly and raised a question that almost everyone in the industry would have:

"But why Halle Berry? Will Smith’s national popularity, audience favorability, and box office appeal are all far above hers, and his support is miles ahead. By all logic, his chances of winning should be greater."

The air went quiet for a moment.

The ease on Irene’s face faded, and the corners of her mouth curled into a very faint, yet somewhat cold smile.

That wasn’t spite, but the clarity and indifference that comes after seeing through Hollywood’s rules.

Her voice was very soft, yet every word was clear: "Because female roles have always been the ones to be sacrificed."

Francis was suddenly stunned, and the look in his eyes as he watched his daughter instantly became complex.

Irene didn’t continue to explain, but she had already made everything perfectly clear.

In Hollywood’s game of trade-offs, when a choice needs to be made and a "historic breakthrough" needs to be delivered, it is always the women who are pushed out first and are the easiest to be "arranged."

Men can be protected, saved for next time, or weighed against pros and cons, while women are often the sacrificial lambs used to show an attitude, fill a gap, or complete a sense of ritual.

This wasn’t just Halle Berry’s victory. It was the "safest" choice the entire industry had to make at a certain juncture.

Francis didn’t speak for a long time, just looking at his daughter, who was only twenty years old but had already seen through the industry’s rules.

He suddenly realized that Irene was no longer a child who needed his protection.

She understood creation, she understood the human heart, and even more, she understood all the quiet calculations and compromises beneath the surface of Hollywood.

He sighed softly, his tone carrying a bit of heartache, but also full of approval: "You see things too clearly."

Irene just withdrew her gaze indifferently and looked at the pitch-black night outside the window.

She didn’t care if the rules were fair, nor did she care about the trade-offs behind the scenes. After all, her Oscar was also obtained through a swap of interests, and she was also a beneficiary.

And as a presenter, all she had to do was, at that moment, steadily hand the glory belonging to the winner over to them.

As for what was hidden behind this glory, although she saw it clearly, she couldn’t be bothered to expose it.

The father and daughter’s discussion about the Oscar had just come to an end when Irene remembered the red carpet details that Shelly had mentioned during the day.

Early the next morning, she took the initiative to call her agent. Just as she mentioned the ceremony’s procedures, Shelly took the opportunity to throw out an arrangement that had already been planned.

"By the way, I’ve finalized a small arrangement for the red carpet segment. When you walk the red carpet, bring Henry Cavill with you."

Irene’s hand holding the phone paused, her brow furrowed almost imperceptibly, and she stated her concerns directly:

"Bring him? But for the sake of promotion, the production team just paved the way for the on-screen couple rumors between him and Keira Knightley, and the materials haven’t been fully taken down yet. If I suddenly take him to walk the Oscar red carpet, won’t it cause misunderstandings from the outside world and instead have a negative impact on the previous promotional rhythm?"

She was always considering the crew’s interests, promotional consistency, and the actors’ reputations, without a shred of personal emotion.

Shelly chuckled on the other end of the phone, his tone firm and professional, clearly having already weighed the pros and cons clearly:

"You don’t need to worry about this at all. I’ve communicated with the Disney publicity team. You just need to show up as the director, bringing a newcomer from the crew as usual. The unified external statement will be ’mentoring a junior, promoting a new film.’"

He paused and explained further: "The focus of that night will be on the Oscar nominees, the winners of the major awards, and the top superstars. It won’t fall on you and a newcomer actor at all.

Our goal is very simple: to use the Oscar, the world’s largest exposure platform, to increase Henry’s positive screen time a little and warm up for the future promotion of Pirates of the Caribbean, that’s all."

"It won’t disrupt the professional image previously set for you, Keira Knightley, and Henry, nor will it create negative public opinion. Everyone will just see it as a normal group activity for the production team."

Shelly’s logic was clear and comprehensive, standing entirely from a work and public relations perspective, without any ulterior motives.

Irene was silent for two seconds, quickly sorted through the procedures and risks in her mind, and after confirming that it wouldn’t cause any interference to the film or the actors, she nodded slightly.

"Okay, let’s go with your arrangement."

"There’s one more thing," Shelly added. "The styling team will coordinate the style with you in advance. There will be two sets of plans for the red carpet and the awards ceremony dress to ensure everything is safe and error-free. You just need to focus on preparing the acceptance speech and the post-production editing. Leave everything else to me."

"Got it."

Hanging up the phone, Irene turned her attention back to the post-production editing schedule on the table.

The Oscar red carpet, the awards, bringing a newcomer to appear—to her, these were all just extensions of work.

No expectations, no nervousness, and certainly no unnecessary emotions.

She just needed to appear on time, complete her tasks professionally, leave with grace, and then immediately return to her own battlefield to continue polishing the film that was about to change the landscape of Hollywood.

After putting down the phone, Irene completely put the trivial matters of the Oscar to the back of her mind and dove into the post-production editing room at Disney Studios to continue wholeheartedly polishing the film.

Hans Zimmer’s music team had already delivered the first version of the score—grand, wild, and carrying the unique, uninhibited romance of pirates, with a rhythm almost identical to the classic version in her memory.

The stirring symphony echoed in the editing room, with brass and strings interweaving to create the momentum of the Black Pearl, every drumbeat hitting the breathing points of the footage precisely, making one’s blood boil.

Just as the music reached its climax, a flash of inspiration suddenly struck Irene’s mind, and a sexy, catchy, and rhythmic dance melody popped out without warning.

The melody was trendy and smooth, with a strong sense of rhythm, perfectly fitting the style of the pop music scene.

She thought of Britney almost immediately.

Because of Irene’s involvement, those three songs swept across the United States as soon as they were released, directly sending Britney’s third album Britney to the top of the Billboard charts, with sales soaring all the way.

Not only that, Britney had already been nominated for the latest Grammy for Best Pop Vocal Performance, and the album even secured a nomination for Album of the Year.

That crossover rock-style song "Roar" even made an unprecedented nomination for Best Rock Song, setting an unprecedented achievement for a new-generation singer.