blueteamnovel Chapter 78 The Fall of Hollywood's Sexiest Man?
Chapter 78 The Fall of Hollywood's Sexiest Man?
Beijing, the headquarters of Huayi Brothers.
When Wang Zhongjun pushed the door open, he saw Feng Xiaogang staring out the window, lost in thought.
"Did the art department get thrown back into disarray again?" Wang Zhongjun slammed the thick coordination sheet on the table, his voice betraying his exhaustion.
"Zhang Ziyi's team is pressing her hard; they want to know if filming can start on time in September. If we don't get a definite answer by next week, she'll probably have to reassess her schedule."
Xiao Gang, our film "The Banquet" is aiming for awards and global distribution. We can't stay stuck in pre-production forever, especially since other investors are also watching!
"Did Zhang Ziyi really say that?"
Wang Zhongjun took a deep breath and flicked the ash into the crystal jar: "Her agent was implying that if filming can't start on time in September, she'll have to turn down those Hollywood scripts. Her value is different now; after all, she just finished filming a movie by a big director, and her mind is no longer on us."
Feng Xiaogang let out a short, snickering laugh, as if he had heard some absurd joke.
"Your net worth has changed?"
"Does she think that just because she's become a familiar face in Hollywood, she can be treated like royalty back in China? Doesn't she just think I'm lacking an international award to prop her up? Does she think that all I, Feng Xiaogang, am known for are commercial films, unlike Zhang Yimou and others who can help her win awards?"
He snorted and shook his head: "Young people these days mistake this superficial knowledge for real skills. Doesn't she take a good look in the mirror? Once she leaves the domestic market and our team, which understands her and can package her limited acting skills flawlessly, what decent roles can she get internationally?"
Besides playing stereotypical action heroines, what else can she do?
Wang Zhongjun didn't respond to that question. They had worked with Feng Xiaogang for so many years and knew his temperament all too well. Feng Xiaogang was a man who valued his reputation more than his life.
In the Beijing entertainment circle, a place of fame and fortune, who doesn't have a few "go-to" celebrities who have been promoted and then brought down?
But he was even more aware that Huayi was in a critical period before its IPO, and Zhang Ziyi's emotional outburst at this juncture was not only a slap in the face for Feng Xiaogang, but also a blow to Huayi's business.
"Xiaogang, don't get angry," Wang Zhongjun said gently.
"As you know, the current market situation is such that even if an actress of Zhang Ziyi's caliber just makes a brief appearance in Hollywood, her value back in China is significantly different."
Instead of arguing with her here, we should think about how to make the opening ceremony a success. Once the press releases are out, and public opinion is in control, she'll have to think twice about withdrawing from Huayi Brothers' contract.
Feng Xiaogang lit a cigarette, took a deep drag, and exhaled a smoke ring: "Give her agent a message and tell her that we know the schedule."
"Our Huayi Brothers productions always have a waiting list. If she thinks Hollywood smells so good, let her enjoy it. But when she gets her nose stuck with a slap in the face and comes back, whether she gets the role will depend on my mood that day."
He waved his hand, as if shooing away an annoying fly: "We can't let this trivial matter ruin our mood and make the art department revise the drawings again. What we need in this film is that oppressive feeling of a real palace, not the cheap technical showmanship of Hollywood blockbusters."
Wang Zhongjun looked at Feng Xiaogang's unhurried demeanor, and although he was anxious, he knew that saying more would be of no use.
That's just how Feng Xiaogang is. His inherent arrogance makes him prefer to break rather than show the slightest concession in front of outsiders.
"Alright, I'll take care of it." Wang Zhongjun sighed, pushed open the door, and left.
Across the ocean, Matthew McConaughey's car was parked outside a private club in Beverly Hills.
When he got out of the car, he didn't have his usual signature sunny smile.
Instead, he wore a loose hoodie, his sunken eyes were filled with exhaustion, his once robust physique looked somewhat out of shape, and even his gait was swaying with a sense of decadence.
"Snap! Snap!"
In the shadows, several telephoto lenses were flashing wildly.
The following day, the entertainment section of the Los Angeles Times and several independent tabloids known for their gossip published an extremely eye-catching photo almost simultaneously.
In the photo, Matthew McConaughey, once known as "Hollywood's Sexiest Man Alive," is seen getting out of a car looking dazed. His cheekbones are prominent, his face is pale to the point of being sickly, and there seems to be an unidentified bruise on his sleeve.
The newspaper also included a photo from last year's "Sahara" premiere for comparison: he had a bronze complexion, his white shirt was stretched taut by his chest muscles, and he smiled, revealing twelve teeth.
Other media outlets quickly followed suit, publishing headlines such as: "Matthew McConaughey: Hollywood's genius, or the next victim buried by alcohol and drugs?" and "Matthew McConaughey photographed appearing unwell; Columbia Pictures insiders say they are assessing project risks."
Meanwhile, those tabloid tabloids and entertainment bloggers who operate on the fringes have completely shed their pretenses:
Hollywood Insider: "Complete Collapse! Is there any soul left in this skeletal body?"
TMZ: "From Surfboard to Syringe: How Matthew Ruined His Million-Dollar Face in Three Months?"
The National Enquirer: "A desperate farewell: Matthew wanders Beverly Hills, witnesses say he is incoherent!"
Some tabloids maliciously fueled speculation: "An unnamed insider told this newspaper that Matthew has almost disappeared from all social occasions in recent months. When he does appear, he appears dazed and slow-moving, a strikingly similar path to several A-list celebrities who have collapsed due to drug problems in recent years."
The report also listed his recent unusual behavior in a serious manner: canceling three magazine cover shoots, two Paramount business receptions, and even missing his favorite University of Texas football game.
In the eyes of gossip reporters, every absence became evidence.
As the reports expanded, this media storm crossed the ocean in almost half a day.
Online discussion forums, Yahoo! Entertainment message boards, and early forums exploded with discussion.
Yahoo Entertainment's real-time trending topics for Matthew McConaughey include three: #MatthewMcConaughey, #HollywoodDownfall, and #IsHeDying.
In the forum's comment section, netizens' malice and morbid curiosity were amplified to an extreme:
"He looks like a drug addict, and he'll never go back to that."
"I used to love watching his movies, but now he's just the latest footnote in the history of Hollywood's decline."
"The film company will definitely withdraw its investment. Who would pay to see an actor who could die on set at any moment?"
Someone posted a magnified version of the candid photo, analyzing frame by frame what the faint bruise on his cuff was.
"Those are injection marks," one anonymous user wrote confidently. "I've seen the exact same thing in rehab."
Another person countered, "That's just a wrinkle in the clothing. Have you ever seen anyone get a shot on the inside of their wrist?"
But those who disagreed were quickly overwhelmed by more speculation.
Some relatively restrained media outlets, such as local television stations, followed their broadcasts of the Venice Film Festival preparations with a short message from McConaughey, the narration using a feigned tone of concern:
Will Hollywood lose another star of its golden age? We don't know.
In the living room of his Malibu villa, Brian spread out a dozen newspapers and printed screenshots of web pages one by one on the coffee table.
In just over ten minutes, he received no fewer than ten calls from the media seeking information and verification. Each call was met with a vague response that he could not disclose the details at the moment, and that more details would be released later.
He didn't fly into a rage outright, but his knuckles were white from gripping his phone so tightly.
"Matthew, are you really sure?" Brian threw his phone on the table.
"The longer this matter is left unresolved, the more serious it will become. If it is not clarified, these media outlets will only intensify their efforts and spread increasingly outrageous rumors. The paparazzi in Los Angeles are already frantically searching for your friends and family. Every day you delay issuing a statement, they can write another report."
"Then let them write it." Matthew remained calm, leaning back on the sofa.
"That's the effect I wanted. They think I've fallen from grace, that I'm on drugs, that I've fallen from the top of Hollywood to the bottom? Fine, let them use all the words they want."
When Ron Woodruff walks off the screen, those who criticized me will be the first to vindicate me and applaud me. The harsher their criticism now, the heavier the scales will sink when they tip in the future.