Chapter 69: The Trap

Chapter 69: Chapter 69: The Trap

Irene did not answer immediately. For a moment, the only sounds in the room were her breathing and the faint, occasional crackle of wood burning in the fireplace.

"I need to think about this a bit more. Let’s talk about the My Big Fat Greek Wedding project."

Shelly was clearly surprised by this shift, and his tone was tinged with disapproval.

"Irene, I understand you. This script is indeed warm and interesting. But we must be realistic. The market prospects for this kind of low-budget independent romantic comedy are highly uncertain. Its ceiling might not even reach the floor of the prestige that Almost Famous could bring you."

At this moment, Shelly, like everyone else, could not foresee that this film, with a production budget of only five million dollars, would create a miracle in the future.

It would gross nearly 370 million dollars worldwide and become one of the most profitable films in cinematic history.

Therefore, his attitude toward this project was conservative, even somewhat dismissive.

After all, there are a pile of such projects every year. Even if one is lucky enough to make it to theaters, the box office returns are very limited.

Irene was not influenced by his attitude. Her voice was unusually firm, carrying a certainty that bordered on precognition.

"Shelly, trust me. My intuition rarely fails. This project has far more potential than it looks. I want you to immediately investigate the detailed background of this project, including the situation of the screenwriter Nia Vardalos, as well as the production team’s financing channels and gaps."

She slightly emphasized her tone, stressing, "See if we have a chance, even if only partially, to enter with investment. I hope you can push this matter with the attitude and resources you would use for an A-list production."

On the other end of the line, Shelly frowned slightly. He could not understand why Irene was so persistent about such a small production, even willing to invest real money. But their long-term cooperation and Irene’s past successful judgment led him to choose to comply.

"Fine, Irene, since you insist." His tone carried a hint of helpless compromise, but his efficiency remained. "I will immediately organize a team to investigate and give you a detailed evaluation report as soon as possible."

"Thank you, I’ll wait for your news." Irene hung up the phone decisively.

She put her phone aside and turned her gaze back to the two side-by-side document icons on the computer screen. One had a simple title but contained astonishing commercial potential. The other had a prestigious name, but behind it lay a complex power struggle.

A complex curve slowly tugged at the corner of her mouth. Every time she thought she had accepted the bottom line of Hollywood, it would immediately reveal an even crueler side, telling her that she was still far from being able to let her guard down.

A slight sound came from the entryway. It was Sophia returning from a film discussion. She took off her coat and saw the wall lamp still on in the living room. Irene was curled up on the sofa, her brows tightly locked, with undisguised irritation on her face.

"What’s wrong?" Sophia walked over and sat down beside her, her tone filled with concern.

"I rarely see you like this. Is the project not going well?" She knew that only in front of her closest family would Irene set aside her composure and reveal her true emotions.

Irene sighed, rubbed her temples, and told her sister everything about receiving the two scripts that evening and the unpleasant truth Shelly had revealed about Almost Famous.

"...So, in essence, what they value is not my ability as a director, but the fact that I am obedient and can attract young audiences. A puppet placed in the director’s chair." Irene’s tone was full of self-mockery.

To Irene’s surprise, Sophia did not hesitate at all and said decisively, "Reject it, Irene. Immediately, right now."

Irene looked at her sister in surprise.

She knew well Sophia’s pursuit of cinematic art, and that she was not without longing for the recognition of an Oscar. Under normal circumstances, such a seemingly accessible project with great award-winning potential would be a huge temptation for any director.

"Why?" Irene couldn’t help but ask. "You know, if managed well, it could very likely..."

"Exactly because I know!" Sophia interrupted her, her eyes clear and firm. "I have seen too many films at Sundance created purely for the sake of expression.

Awards are glorious, but that honor must have your own name engraved on it and flow with your own heart’s blood to count. To be a stand-in for Cameron Crowe? What is that? This is not even cooperation. It is charity, it is exploitation!"

She held Irene’s hand, her tone becoming deep. "Irene, our last name is Coppola. Our family may have given us shortcuts, but it has also given us pride. What Dad taught us is how to tell our own stories through the lens, not to be someone else’s mouthpiece.

Once you take on this project, regardless of whether it ultimately succeeds or not, your label in Hollywood will no longer be Director Irene Coppola, but that lucky, chosen girl, or even worse, Crowe’s puppet. All your previous efforts and successes will be covered and distorted by this identity."

Her sister’s words were like a warning bell, buzzing in Irene’s ears.

Perhaps she was infected by the atmosphere of the film festival, where everyone strived to make a good movie — one with ideas, depth, and substance.

At this moment, a shortcut with the halo of an Oscar and the promise of quick fame appeared, confusing her and causing her to fall into a narrow trade-off, struggling between practical benefits and hollow fame. She had overlooked the most fundamental thing: the autonomy and dignity of a creator.

Sophia looked at her sudden realization and finally said softly, "No matter how tempting that piece of chocolate looks, it doesn’t change the fact that its core is shit. Eating it won’t earn you real respect. It will only dirty yourself."

"You’re right, Sophia." Her eyes became clear and firm again. "Whoever wants to taste that chocolate-flavored shit can go ahead. I, Irene Coppola, am not serving."

It’s just an Oscar statuette. With the thousands of films in her mind, she could easily choose a year with less intense competition and shoot a custom-made film specifically for the Oscar judges. Winning it is only a matter of time.

Since Almost Famous no longer held any attraction for her, securing My Big Fat Greek Wedding was now the most urgent matter.

Shelly would not disobey her instructions, but he wouldn’t be overly proactive either. After all, he served more than just her, and furthermore, he didn’t think highly of this project. Therefore, she could not put all her eggs in one basket.

Irene thought for a moment and immediately drafted a text message to Vera, asking her and Chen Shiyu to help her investigate the real-time situation regarding My Big Fat Greek Wedding and the unavoidable Nia Vardalos. She was determined to win this project.

Irene reopened the document titled My Big Fat Greek Wedding and carefully read through the entire script.

Clearly, they were currently in the preparation stage. Not only had the project not been officially named, but the current plot still had some discrepancies with the original film in her mind, and apart from Nia Vardalos herself, no other roles had been cast yet.

Since the script could be sent to her, it proved that the other party had a certain degree of goodwill toward her. This point was very important. Compared to her rashly showing up to sell herself, she had already succeeded by a small step. What remained was how to make Nia Vardalos choose her as the first option.

Honestly, if they had found her when she was still hitting walls everywhere and performing her one-woman show, it would have been basically guaranteed. But it’s not too late now. At least this project has just begun. At most, it will just take a little more effort.