Chapter 437: Personal Support

Chapter 437: Chapter 437: Personal Support

"The Aviator" and "Ray" could roughly both be considered biographical films, and their protagonists were both legendary figures who had spent many years in the American entertainment industry.

One told of Howard Hughes’s life experiences over approximately twenty years from the 1930s to the 1950s, showcasing the construction of Howard Hughes’s business empire and the worsening of his obsessive-compulsive disorder through a dual-line structure; its scope was grand, but its pacing was fractured.

The other adopted a linear biographical narrative to recount American jazz and rock and roll figure Ray Charles from childhood blindness to rehabilitation and rebirth, featuring coherent emotions but a traditional structure.

Although the two shared similar themes, their content and performance presentations were completely different.

Leonardo DiCaprio portrayed psychological pathology in "The Aviator" through physical spasms and verbal repetition, remaining introverted and restrained; Jamie Foxx in "Ray" needed to simulate a blind state throughout and personally play the piano and sing, being extroverted and technically difficult.

Leonardo believed that he had put in all his efforts throughout the entire film, bringing out his best state and acting skills, and he could say that he was no worse than anyone else.

But when he finished watching "Ray", he realised that Jamie Foxx not only accurately imitated Ray Charles’s gait, gaze (unfocused stare), and head-shaking habits, but also personally completed all the piano playing and singing in the film without a body double or post-production dubbing, achieving the ultimate sense of realism of "man and piano as one".

Furthermore, he learned that the other party wore special contact lenses throughout to simulate a state of total blindness, and under circumstances where visual communication could not be relied upon, relied solely on auditory reactions and muscle memory to complete complex blocking, demonstrating an extremely high level of control and a sense of belief.

The entire performance had transcended the level of an "imitation show", deeply conveying the protagonist’s dignity and struggle under racial discrimination, the pain of blindness, and the torment of drug addiction, triggering strong empathy from the audience.

Ever since his first nomination at the age of nineteen, Leonardo had made several bids for the Oscar statuette, regretting defeat every time; this year was supposed to be a year he pinned high hopes on, but it might end in regret once again.

His personal relationship with Irene had always been quite good; they were not intimate best friends, but rather peer friends who recognised and cherished each other, requiring no excessive formalities.

After walking closer, Leonardo first greeted George politely, then looked at Irene and gave a helpless, bitter smile: "Seeing how quiet it is over here on your side, it is indeed a rare bit of peace and quiet, much more comfortable than the hypocritical social pleasantries outside."

Seeing this, Irene smiled slightly: "You have things on your mind, which is why you find the outside world clamorous and impetuous."

Hearing this, Leonardo was slightly startled, then calmly gave a bitter smile, no longer concealing his obsession.

He gently swirled the champagne in his cup, his tone carrying a bit of exhaustion and stubbornness:

"I cannot hide it from you. This time for ’The Aviator’, I polished my acting skills for a whole year, repeatedly pondering the paranoid, neurotic, fragile yet flamboyant core of the character, trying my utmost to break through myself.

I really, really want this Oscar statuette; running alongside others race after race, coming up empty-handed time and time again, I can barely hold out against the outside world’s banter and the unwillingness deep down in my heart."

At this moment, he had shed the glamorous arrogance of a top-tier movie star, leaving only the persistence and anxiety of an ordinary person who had been chasing his dream for many years and suffered repeated frustrations.

Looking at the genuine unwillingness in the depths of his eyes, Irene gave the most substantial promise: "Leonardo, I understand your efforts and persistence. For this session’s judges’ voting, my personal vote will be cast for you without hesitation."

Not stopping there, she added further weight, her tone steady and powerful, giving the other party ample confidence:

"All the Producer, Director, and Judge circle friends I am on good terms with in the industry, I will greet and pass words to one by one, uniformly rallying support and votes for you. Regardless of the final outcome, I and my network of connections will firmly stand by your side."

She knew clearly that the competition for Best Actor this session was extremely fierce; Jamie Foxx’s performance in "Ray" could be called god-tier, boasting an almost crushing advantage, and Leonardo would most likely still escape the fate of running as a bridesmaid.

But dreams and persistence deserved to be treated kindly; even if the ending was hard to change, she was willing to offer her most sincere support and fulfilment for this steadfastness that had lasted for years as one day.

Hearing this, intense emotional-stirring and warmth instantly rippled across the depths of Leonardo’s eyes.

When everyone else was watching the situation, weighing pros and cons, and deliberately cozying up to the frontrunners, Irene chose without hesitation or reservation to stand by his side, giving a concrete promise of support.

He looked solemnly at Irene, his tone sincere and earnest, filled with heartfelt gratitude: "Thank you, Irene. This sentiment is far more precious than any formal pleasantries."

A single expression of thanks required no further words.

As both being top-tier practitioners of Hollywood’s new generation—sharing the same early fame, the same deep cultivation of obsessions, and the same carrying of heavy loads forward—they best understood each other’s persistence and hardships.

"You do not need to be too obsessed with certain things; this time you could not win the award purely because of bad luck, there is nothing wrong with your acting skills, but ’The Aviator’ is more of an ensemble victory, whereas the Oscar Best Actor award tends more toward the ultimate breakthrough of a single role.

Jamie Foxx’s ’ascetic-style’ dedication matches the Academy’s highest definition of ’professionalism’, so do not be distressed, you are still young and have many opportunities ahead."

Irene straightforwardly pointed out the industry rules of the Oscars, also liberating Leonardo’s depressed heart.

That was right, it was not that his acting skills were not good enough, it was just that he had encountered someone even harsher on themselves; perhaps he should also find a deeply bitter and deeply hated role like that to try out.

The two chatted casually for a moment about the recent gossip in the circle and the Oscar-campaign situation, then bid each other farewell and re-blended into the bustling crowd.

Leonardo turned around and rushed off to socialise in another networking circle, trying to exert a little more effort for his final competition for Best Actor, while Irene still stood quietly in the corner, accompanying The Godfather George Lucas, quietly chatting about the preliminary details of Lucasfilm’s subsequent contacts and acquisitions.

Just at this moment, a gentle and slender figure cautiously wove through the passing guests, walking straight toward her direction. Her posture was respectful and reserved, carrying a bit of deliberately restrained awkwardness—it was precisely Anne Hathaway.

Tonight’s Anne wore a light apricot-coloured elegant gown, her make-up exquisite and gentle. She had shed the green and naive air from "The Princess Diaries," gaining a bit of an adult actor’s composure and introversion, yet it was still hard to mask the well-behaved softness deep in her bones.

She had evidently come here on purpose, her gaze constantly falling on Irene. Upon walking close, she first politely bowed to greet George Lucas, and then cast all her attention toward Irene, her tone sincere and earnest, carrying full gratitude and awe.

"Irene, I have always wanted to find an opportunity to properly thank you. Thank you for being willing to give me the opportunity back then to let me play Lureen in ’Brokeback Mountain’." Anne’s voice was soft and sincere, without a shred of perfunctory courtesy; it was a heartfelt reflection precipitated over a long time,

"This play has a very heavy significance for me. Prior to this, I had always been trapped in the sweet and energetic princess template, and my acting only stayed at the most superficial performance stage.

But after finishing ’Brokeback Mountain’, learning alongside Director Ang Lee and settling down with the crew, I have gained a brand-new, thorough comprehension of acting and the profession of an actor."