Chapter 309: The Hopeless Cousin

Chapter 309: Chapter 309: The Hopeless Cousin

On March 23, 2003, at the Kodak Theatre in Hollywood, Los Angeles, the 75th Oscar Awards ceremony was held as scheduled.

The air was filled with a solemnity different from previous years, as the shadow of the Iraq War loomed closer. For safety reasons, the organizers announced the cancellation of the traditional red carpet segment on the Walk of Fame, only laying out a simple red carpet of less than ten meters at the theater entrance. There were no reporters swarming with questions, no continuous camera flashes, and no grand music to build the atmosphere. The stars could only enter discreetly, lacking the usual noise and brilliance.

Such an arrangement made it difficult for many grandly dressed female stars to hide their disappointment.

They had started dieting and shaping their bodies a week in advance, and their custom-made gowns had cost countless efforts. They had intended to shine on the red carpet and grab the headlines, but now they could only hurry across this "shrunken red carpet" with few opportunities to showcase their looks, inevitably showing some resentment on their faces.

Walking into the Kodak Theatre, the interior decoration was still magnificent, with a huge crystal chandelier hanging from the dome, illuminating the packed audience. However, without the lively warm-up of the red carpet, the overall atmosphere appeared exceptionally solemn.

As a top contender for this year’s Oscar, Irene’s seat was arranged in the center of the first row, next to the production team of Million Dollar Baby. Hilary Swank sat on her left, and the two looked at each other and smiled, their eyes filled with a sense of calm.

This position was uniquely advantageous, but it also left Irene with no opportunity to zone out as she usually did.

Cameras on both sides of the stage would sweep toward her from time to time, and in the control room, her real-time image could appear on the large screen at any moment.

Irene had to straighten her back and maintain a proper sitting posture, with a just-right smile on her face, while secretly complaining in her heart: "This three-hour ceremony is even more exhausting than moving bricks."

Then, a rustling sound came from behind her, presumably other actors taking their seats. She glanced back casually and saw her cousin Nicolas Cage.

He wore a dark gray suit somewhat casually, his tie was crooked, and he had his signature unruly smile on his face.

"Cousin, over here!" Irene raised her hand to call him.

Nicolas sat down in the empty seat next to Irene and patted her shoulder familiarly, his tone carrying a bit of a complaint. "You’re really not being a good sport. You knew my plan to aim for the Oscar this year, yet you let Robert De Niro play Frankie. He’s a veteran actor. Now my competition has upgraded to ’hell difficulty’!"

Irene raised her eyebrows and countered mercilessly, "First of all, the role of Frankie was tailor-made for De Niro. Secondly, don’t you have any self-awareness? Your acting is indeed good, but your eye for picking scripts is truly nothing to boast about. This time’s nominated work itself has no competitiveness. Wanting to win Best Actor? It’s purely a dream."

Nicolas wasn’t angry upon hearing this, but just chuckled and rubbed his nose. "Alright, you have a point." He turned to look at Daniel Day-Lewis, who was talking in a low voice with someone nearby, his eyes showing a bit of admiration, and then looked back at Irene. "Do you dare to make a bet?"

"Bet on what?" Irene became interested.

"If the Best Actor ends up being someone you favor—I guess you’re definitely betting on De Niro or Daniel?" Nicolas paused and added, "As long as the actor you guessed wins, I’ll go to your Pirates of the Caribbean 2 and do a cameo for free, any role you arrange."

Irene laughed. "And what if the person you bet on wins?"

"Then you have to help me pick my next movie." Nicolas’s eyes instantly lit up. "Who doesn’t know now that you, Irene Coppola, are Hollywood’s ’Golden Finger’? Your eye for selecting films is amazing. From My Big Fat Greek Wedding to Pirates of the Caribbean, every single one is a huge hit. Help me pick one, and let me share in some of your good luck."

Irene readily agreed, "Deal. But I can tell you right now, I’m not choosing Daniel or De Niro. I’m betting on Adrien Brody."

"The Pianist? The possibility of him winning is indeed very high." Nicolas couldn’t help but nod. "Then I’ll choose Daniel. After all, his acting is truly beyond reproach."

As they were talking, Daniel Day-Lewis happened to walk over.

He was dressed in a black suit, with a steady and restrained temperament and sharp yet gentle eyes. When he saw Irene, he took the initiative to reach out his hand. "Irene, it’s a pleasure to meet you. Million Dollar Baby was filmed excellently. The emotional explosiveness and the delicacy of the narrative are both amazing."

"It’s my honor to receive your recognition." Irene quickly stood up to shake hands, her tone carrying sincere admiration. "I’ve always admired your performances. Your ability to shape a character is practically textbook level. I’ve long hoped for an opportunity to collaborate with you."

"I’m looking forward to it too." Daniel Day-Lewis smiled, his gaze falling on her with a hint of approval. "To be able to film such a work at 22, your future is limitless. If there’s a suitable script, I’d be very happy to collaborate."

Nicolas on the side couldn’t help but interject, "Hey, Daniel, don’t be fooled by her appearance. She has a sharp tongue. She just said my acting was no good and my eye for picking scripts was poor!"

Daniel laughed upon hearing this and patted Nicolas on the shoulder. "Irene is right. A good actor also needs the support of a good script. However, your talent has always been there. You just need to make more precise choices."

Nicolas curled his lips and didn’t argue further.

He knew in his heart that both Irene and Daniel were telling the truth. Over the years, he had filmed many movies, some hits and some flops. Picking scripts entirely by feeling had indeed wasted a lot of his talent.

At this time, the host began to remind the guests to take their seats. Daniel Day-Lewis smiled and said goodbye to the two, returning to his own seat.

Irene sat back in her seat, and Nicolas leaned over, lowering his voice. "Seriously, do you really think I have no chance this time?"

"It’s not that there’s no chance, but the probability is very small." Irene’s tone softened a bit. "De Niro’s Frankie is very deeply rooted in people’s hearts, and the performances of Daniel and Adrien are almost impeccable. The competitiveness of these three is far above the others. But it’s okay, just treat this time as an experience. Wait for me to pick a good script for you, and next time I’ll let you aim for the award."

Nicolas grinned. "That’s what you said! If you lose, you have to pick a script for me that’s even better than Million Dollar Baby."

"Don’t worry, even if I win, I’ll think of you when there’s a suitable role in the future." Irene replied with a smile.

The two looked at each other and smiled.

The lights on the stage gradually lit up, and the award ceremony was about to begin.

Irene leaned against the back of her chair, listening to her cousin still muttering behind her, and suddenly felt that this three-hour ’torture’ didn’t seem so hard to endure anymore.