Chapter 224: An Outlier

Chapter 224: Chapter 224: An Outlier

"Not yet," Shelly answered truthfully, his tone reflecting his familiarity with Irene.

"But as you know, Irene has always been quite headstrong regarding core casting. She prioritizes suitability over connections, so she’ll likely pick the lead actress herself. However, for supporting roles like the boxing coach, opponents, and family, she’ll leave the handling and recommendations entirely to us."

Ella nodded slightly, his gaze falling on Shelly’s somewhat tired face, as he spoke with feigned concern:

"You’re currently handling several incredibly promising artists. This time, Irene’s project involves everything from casting to Oscar campaigning—the workload will be immense. If you can’t handle it, let me know at any time. The company can allocate more staff to you."

These words sounded like consideration, but Shelly suppressed the urge to roll his eyes.

He knew what his boss meant. Calling it help, he clearly wanted to use the excuse to insert himself into Irene’s team and become Irene’s co-agent.

This was an unwritten rule within CAA: once an artist reached a certain level, they wouldn’t be managed by a single agent. Usually, two or three agents would co-manage them, each with their own responsibilities, to share the pressure and ensure the company maintained firm control over core resources.

Just like Nicole Kidman, who had just left. She had three dedicated agents: Ella Walker controlled overall resources and strategic planning, Charles Andrews was responsible for image packaging and fashion business, and Cran Gerard specifically handled film and television projects.

The three had clear divisions of labor while balancing each other, which sustained Nicole Kidman’s A-list status. Nicole bypassing Cran to see Ella today was also a signal to the company: she needed the highest level of resource allocation.

And Irene Coppola was now one of Hollywood’s hottest directors and a box-office guarantee. In CAA’s resource weighting, she was even a tier higher than Nicole Kidman.

According to the rules, she should have been assigned a co-agent team of 2-3 people long ago, but until now, only Shelly had served her. The core reason lay entirely in Irene’s own wishes: she extremely disliked unnecessary people interfering with her creation and planning, and was used to keeping all initiative firmly in her own hands.

In terms of career planning, she had her own ideas. From Legally Blonde to the soon-to-be-prepared Million Dollar Baby, every step was clear and determined.

To her, outside advice was merely a reference to be heard or ignored. For image management and business cooperation, she didn’t rely on endorsements to maintain exposure.

Her work itself was her best calling card. As for film projects, while others were still looking for opportunities, she already held a stack of trump cards thanks to her reborn memories and could create projects at any time, requiring no effort from an agent to negotiate.

Seen this way, Shelly seemed to have become a dispensable presence.

But the truth was quite the opposite. Irene’s "peace of mind" was built entirely on the countless trivial tasks Shelly piled up.

He not only had to regularly maintain her relationships with major studios, theater chains, and unions to ensure she got the smoothest resource support during filming, but also had to filter out over 90% of invalid invitations and distractions so she could focus on creation without being distracted by commercial social engagements or unreasonable demands.

Furthermore, he had to precisely control her financial planning and project budgets, and even help her handle sudden disputes on set and actor contract details, nipping all potential risks in the bud.

Shelly had jokingly complained to Irene more than once: "I’m not your agent. I’m clearly a nanny on call 24 hours a day."

Every time, Irene would brush it off, pointing to his annual salary and saying, "Honey, a nanny doesn’t get paid this much. You’re at least a ’high-end nanny’."

Shelly could only admit, with a mix of pain and pleasure, that following a boss who didn’t require him to scramble for resources and only needed him to handle logistics was like a divine blessing in Hollywood.

So when Ella hinted at allocating staff but actually wanted to step in as a co-agent, Shelly declined tactfully but firmly: "I can manage for now. Irene is also used to me being around. A sudden change might affect the project’s progress."

Seeing his firm attitude, Ella didn’t push further, only instructing: "Then pay more attention. Send me a digital copy of the script later. I’ll also keep an eye out for suitable candidates on my end."

"Alright, Mr. Walker."

Shelly left the office after forwarding the script to Ella Walker’s inbox.

After the door closed again, Ella forwarded the digital script he had just received to several actresses under him whose styles fit and who had ambitions for awards.

He knew that the role of Maggie was a "tough nut to crack" but also a "choice cut." It required joining the crew four months early for closed-door training, learning boxing skills, and gaining weight to fit the rough feel of a lower-class waitress. The process would surely be hard, but this setting of "destroying one’s image + extreme contrast" was exactly what Oscar judges loved most.

Nicole Kidman, far away in Beverly Hills, received the script almost instantly.

Having just recovered from the gloom of her Oscar loss, she was in urgent need of a role to prove herself. When she saw Maggie’s character setting, her eyes lit up instantly.

She understood Oscar preferences too well: this kind of female character from a humble background, resilient and ultimately tragic, came with a built-in "empathy buff." As long as the performance was brilliant enough, the probability of winning an award was extremely high.

She immediately dialed her agent Cran Gerard’s number, her tone unable to hide her excitement: "Cran, take a quick look at this script Shelly sent, Million Dollar Baby. The female lead, Maggie—it’s a role tailor-made for an Oscar run!"

Cran Gerard quickly found time to finish the script and called back in agreement: "It is indeed the type the Oscars like. Irene Coppola’s directing skills were shown quite well in My Big Fat Greek Wedding. She has a reputation now. This film is likely to be a front-runner for next year’s awards season. However..."

His tone shifted, becoming a bit more hesitant: "I have another script here called The Hours. It tells the stories of three women. The role suitable for you is a genius writer having a mental breakdown. The kind of struggle and yearning for freedom expressed in this project is also a direction Hollywood has always favored."

As soon as Cran Gerard finished speaking, Nicole Kidman’s brow furrowed involuntarily. "The Hours?" she repeated the name softly, her tone carrying a hint of uncertainty.

Hollywood had always favored these types of roles filled with struggle and resistance, exploring the depth of human nature and the yearning for freedom—complex, broken, yet possessing extreme tension in despair. It was exactly the type Oscar judges were willing to stop for.

She thought of the passionate and exuberant Satine in Moulin Rouge!. Such extreme brilliance ultimately failed to knock on the Oscar door. Her next role had to be more of a breakthrough for her to have a further chance, and judges preferred performances that could "tear oneself apart."

The two choices before her seemed like two completely different tracks toward an Oscar.