Chapter 311: Sharp Vision

Chapter 311: Chapter 311: Sharp Vision

Irene sat back in her seat. Nicolas Cage leaned over, his tone filled with admiration. "Not bad, Irene. Your eye for actors is just as sharp as your eye for scripts."

Irene gave a faint smile and didn’t respond, her gaze already returning to the stage.

Next up was the competition for Best Actor.

The spotlight suddenly focused on the center of the stage. Halle Berry, dressed in a wine-red velvet gown with a trailing hem, walked gracefully to the microphone. "Next, we will reveal the Best Actor for the 75th Academy Awards."

The big screen showed clips of the five nominees: Nicolas’s tearful monologue as a frustrated father in his film; Daniel’s fierce gaze as a vengeful leader in Gangs of New York; Frankie, played by Robert De Niro, with his lonely back as he wiped his boxing gloves in the gym; and Adrien Brody’s face filled with sorrow and resentment as he played ’Ballade No. 1 in G minor’ in front of a Nazi officer.

Each clip condensed the actor’s hard work, drawing soft gasps of admiration from the audience from time to time.

Watching the screen, Irene already had a prediction. Adrien Brody’s performance in The Pianist was groundbreaking—losing weight for the role and immersing himself in the suffering. This kind of "extreme dedication" performance appealed most to the Oscar judges.

What’s more, in her previous life, this award also belonged to him.

Therefore, even though she thought Robert De Niro’s performance was perfect, his chances of winning were still not high.

With a perfect smile, Halle Berry opened the envelope, paused for a moment, and then read clearly: "Best Actor, Adrien Brody, The Pianist!"

Thunderous applause rang out again. Robert De Niro showed a relieved smile and stood up to clap. Nicolas Cage was stunned for a moment, then slapped his thigh and turned to Irene. "My god, you’re amazing! You told me before I wouldn’t get it and guessed Adrien had a chance, and now you’ve been proven right!" His eyes were full of wonder, and his gambling spirit rose again. "How about we bet on the next awards? Best Actress or Best Director? I bet on Nicole Kidman!"

Irene shook her head and refused decisively. "No, winning once was my luck. But the outcome of awards has too many uncertainties. There’s no need to bet on this." She didn’t need to keep betting with Nicolas. After all, she was involved in the upcoming awards, and she wasn’t sure if they would win.

Seeing this, Nicolas had no choice but to give up, yet he couldn’t help muttering, "I really didn’t expect you to guess the winner list so accurately. You’ll have to give me more pointers in the future."

Then Adrien Brody went up to accept the award. As usual, he first thanked the Academy for giving him the award, then thanked the crew and producers, thanked director Roman Polanski for choosing him, and finally thanked every Jewish person who lived through the Nazi persecution and continued to live strongly.

And the venue erupted in applause once more.

Soon after, the stage began introducing the nominees for Best Actress.

Irene instinctively turned her head to look at Nicole Kidman not far away.

She was still in her white gown, sitting gracefully with her hands tightly clasped on her lap. Her eyes sparkled with an intense light—a desire to win the award at all costs. Even from several rows away, one could feel her tension and urgency.

Irene looked away, her heart unperturbed.

She then looked at Hilary Swank beside her, who was calmly watching the big screen with a gentle smile, as if she didn’t care about the result.

Irene lightly touched her arm and whispered, "No matter the result, your performance was already wonderful enough."

Hilary turned, smiled at her, and nodded.

On the big screen, the clip of Maggie, played by Hilary, falling in the boxing ring was moving, while Nicole Kidman’s frenzied appearance in The Hours was also highly impactful.

When the clips finished playing, the presenter, Denzel Washington, slowly opened the envelope. The entire venue fell silent instantly, everyone’s eyes focused on that small card.

"The winner of the Best Actress at the 75th Academy Awards is—Hilary Swank, Million Dollar Baby!"

Applause erupted instantly.

Hilary was stunned for a moment, tears instantly welling up in her eyes. She turned to Irene with a gentle and brilliant smile, then gave her a big hug, squeezing her so hard it almost choked her. "Irene, we did it!"

Irene smiled and patted her back, her eyes also feeling a bit warm. "You did it, Hilary. You deserve this."

Hilary let go of her and walked toward the stage step by step amidst the applause and cheers of the audience.

Her steps weren’t light, but they were exceptionally firm. Her gown swept across the floor, leaving a gentle trail.

Irene sat in her seat, watching her receive the Oscar statuette, watching her give a choked-up speech, and watching her sincerely thank everyone.

Not far away, the color drained from Nicole Kidman’s face. The light in her eyes dimmed bit by bit, and her hands unconsciously gripped her skirt, her knuckles turning white.

She looked at the radiant Hilary on stage, her lips moved, but she said nothing. In the end, she just lowered her head dejectedly and started clapping.

Irene didn’t look at Nicole again. She just focused on Hilary on stage, her heart filled with gratification.

With Best Supporting Actor and Best Actress won in succession, Million Dollar Baby had already become one of the big winners of the night.

And next was her own competition.

When the host announced "Best Adapted Screenplay," Irene remained leaning against her chair, her posture as relaxed as if she were watching a movie in her own living room.

She even wanted to turn her head and chat with Nicolas Cage about the characteristics of musical films, but Nicolas, who had been muttering, suddenly went silent, sat up straighter, and stared intently at the stage.

The presenter, Marcia Gay Harden, walked steadily onto the stage. After opening the envelope, she read clearly: "The winner of the Best Adapted Screenplay at the 75th Academy Awards is Chicago!"

Irene was a bit surprised. How could it be Chicago?

In her eyes, the screenplay adaptation of Chicago was textbook-level, perfectly blending the narrative rhythm of a musical with the visual language of film. Calling it a masterpiece was no exaggeration.

But in her previous life, the one who won this award was The Pianist, and The Pianist was also a masterpiece that was in no way inferior to Chicago.

Regardless of who won, Irene clapped sincerely. Her applause was loud and open, without the slightest reluctance, and her face was filled with genuine admiration.

One could only say that her involvement had more or less added many variables to tonight’s awards.

And such variables were what Irene wanted to see. Otherwise, if all the awards were the same as in her previous life, wouldn’t it be obvious that her attempt at the Oscars would fail?