Chapter 393: Chapter 115 Do you think I can take over?

The spacious and bright hall was bustling with people, gathered in small groups, chatting and exchanging pleasantries, making the entire gathering extraordinarily lively. It was referred to as a gathering rather than a meeting or a party because it wasn’t very formal. Some people wore suits while others dressed casually–though not overly so, at least not outlandishly–neither as structured as a cocktail reception nor as boisterous as a party.

“Actually, I’d prefer to dress like a retro hippie, then take my beloved guitar and sing a song on stage,” Nicholas Cage said casually, holding a glass of wine as he observed the venue. He was dressed informally in a shirt, trousers, and sneakers, not at all like a gentleman but more like a street kid hopping by, yet his charm was undiminished.

“You could certainly try that, but I believe Old Frank would definitely kill you,” Adrian laughed as he joined in. His attire was slightly more formal than Cage’s. Although he didn’t carry the same potent unbridled spirit as Cage, Adrian’s appearance, both similar and yet distinct from Cage’s, was elegantly graceful and also attracted many women’s attention.

This gathering was hosted by the Coppola family to celebrate Cage’s win of the Oscar for Best Actor. God knows why they had waited more than a week after the award ceremony to hold it. Having received the invitation, Adrian, who was keen to bond with the Coppola family, naturally didn’t decline. Just now, he had been chatting with Francis Coppola and also with Steven Spielberg and George Lucas. Three out of the four major directors from the 70s and 80s were here, attracting almost as much attention as any of the other numerous stars.

“No need for my uncle to get involved. If he just said the word, many people would be willing to do it for him.” Cage made gestures and spoke earnestly, quite seriously about the matter.

“Hmm, it looks like I’ve come to the wrong place. This isn’t so much a celebration of your Best Actor award as it is a shooting scene for ‘The Godfather,'” Adrian shrugged and then laughed, raising his glass to Cage, “Anyway, Nicholas, congratulations again on winning the Oscar for Best Actor.”

“Thank you. If it hadn’t been for you, it would have been really difficult for me to win,” Cage picked up his glass, smiling, and clinked it with Adrian’s.

“That’s not necessarily the case. Your acting is already fantastic. You might not be able to play just any role, but you’re not far off, and winning the Best Actor would have been just a matter of time even without this movie,” Adrian complimented.

“You’re making me blush, Ed,” Cage said, his tone exaggerated but genuinely sincere. As a member of the Coppola family, how could he not understand the importance of opportunity, “But since you mentioned it, do you have any good roles? Maybe something like a playboy?”

“Why would you think of playing roles like a playboy?” Adrian asked curiously.

“Oh, the girls at the party tonight have been making eyes at you but completely ignoring me, like I don’t exist. It’s really heartbreaking,” Cage lamented, “Well, I know I can’t compare to you in real life, but at least let me enjoy myself in the movies.”

Listening to his complaints, Adrian couldn’t help but laugh. Indeed, many women had tried their best to approach him tonight. Although “Braveheart” had suffered heavy losses at the 68th Oscars, winning Best Picture last had not only maintained but even increased his fame. Being able to make the Film Academy compromise by awarding “Braveheart” Best Picture, despite their clear intention to push him down, proved his influential power was not something just anyone could possess. With Cage securing Best Actor, his reputation for accurate judgment was further solidified, naturally making him immensely popular.

“No playboy roles available, but a tough guy might be an option,” Adrian assessed Cage and suggested.

“A tough guy?” the other looked interested.

“Let me think…” Adrian continued assessing Cage, tapping his temple with his fingers for a moment before speaking again, “First, you’re a Marine.”

“Oh, that’s great. Marines, physically strong, excellent combat skills, the basic essentials for a tough guy.”

“Then you retire.”

“Alright, retired, but still formidable if I keep up with the training.”

“You return hometown, where your long-waited fiancee is ready to marry you because she’s pregnant with your child. However, while at a bar, two thugs provoke you and your girlfriend. You get angry and want to teach them a lesson but are held back by your fiancee. But as you leave, they come after you again. It’s raining heavily outside, the visibility is poor, so when someone pulls out a dagger, you accidentally react, and eventually, the court sentences you to several years for excessive self-defense.”

“Wow, what a twist! Up next, an action-packed version of ‘The Shawshank Redemption’?”

“I’m sorry, you were well-behaved, and after a few years, you finally got parole. Your daughter must be several years old now. However, when you took a ride on a plane transferring other prisoners home, the plane was hijacked by someone who had planned it in advance. You could have safely left, but you stayed for another transferred prisoner and a guard with whom you usually had a good relationship.”

During that time, various things happened. Just as the police caught up to the plane, preparing to shoot it down at all costs, and your fellow prisoner, who was covering for you, got shot by another criminal and could die at any moment, he told you while in your arms, ‘It seems there are no miracles in this world,’ and you said, ‘I will show you a miracle,’ then you stood up and strode towards the cockpit.

The guy guarding it pointed a gun at you and warned you to back off; however, you ignored him. The gun went off, striking your arm and splattering blood, but you didn’t even flinch or frown as if the bullet hit a tree trunk instead of your body. You knocked him down with a punch and then forced the pilot to land the plane and round up all the criminals.”

Adrian finally finished, and Cage stood there for several minutes before he could digest the story.

“…Frankly, I like the latter part,” he said with a smile, “you didn’t even flinch or frown, that bullet seemed to hit a tree trunk instead of your body… Ha, just thinking about it gets my blood pumping. That’s the charm of a tough guy role!”

“Well, that’s settled then, wait until this… Hmm, let’s call it ‘Con Air’. When the script is finished and handed to you, I don’t want to hear a no,” Adrian said, striking while the iron was hot.

“Absolutely not, who would refuse an invite from Miracle Director? Right?” Cage laughed heartily.

“Nice story,” a pleasant, slightly magnetic voice said at that moment.

“Ha, you think so too?” Cage turned to the young woman who had appeared in front of them, his eyes widening in surprise, which quickly turned into a meaningful expression.

She was about 25 years old, in a dark gray woman’s suit, with features somewhat sharp, similar to Blanchett, not exactly beautiful, her lips pursed giving her a competitive look but also hinting at some vulnerability.

“Of course, as you yourself just said, the story is full of twists and turns and presents a great tough guy image. Although it’s just an outline now, I believe the script will be just as excellent once it’s fleshed out,” the woman said with a smile, then curiously looked at Adrian. “Miracle Director truly lives up to his reputation, coming up with such a decent story in just a few minutes.”

“By the way, let me introduce…” Cage started.

“Sofia Coppola, daughter of Francis Coppola, how could I not know,” Adrian interrupted, smiling, and extended his hand. “Pleased to meet you, Miss Coppola. I’m Adrian Cowell.”

“I’m pleased to meet you too, Mr. Cowell,” Sofia shook his hand with restraint.

“Ha, it’s rare, Sofia, to see you like this,” Cage exclaimed.

“Nicholas!” Sofia chided her cousin with a raised eyebrow.

“Okay, okay, if I offended you, I’m sorry,” Cage quickly raised both hands, though his joking manner made it hard to believe his sincerity.

“Talking about conceiving a story in a few minutes is a bit exaggerated; actually, many elements often flash through my mind, and I write them down whenever possible, even if it might be a long time before I use them,” Adrian interjected between them. “So, when the inspiration comes from certain people or events, I just need to mix these accumulated moments together.”

“That’s a great practice, always jotting down those flashes of inspiration, ready for when you need them,” Sofia’s eyes lit up.

“By the way, I might have to leave you for a while, you guys keep chatting, it looks like you have a lot in common anyway,” Cage suddenly said, winking at his cousin before quickly leaving.

“Sorry, Nicholas is always unpredictable, and sometimes he’s more like a child, still loving to play video games and collect comics.” After averting her gaze from her cousin’s figure, Sofia apologized to Adrian.

“It’s okay; sometimes the more unpredictable people are the ones who can act well, as long as they focus their energy on acting. Being too calm and rational, on the other hand, can hinder their performance because they think too much,” Adrian said meaningfully.

Sofia paused, seemingly catching onto something and Adrian immediately followed up, “But being too unpredictable, unable to control when necessary, is also a bad thing; passion needs to be coupled with control.”

“Your thoughts and observational skills are very sharp, Mr. Adrian, just like my father. As a child, I always followed my father from one set to another, and he could always appropriately point out the strengths and weaknesses of the actors,” Sofia curiously expressed.

“Mr. Francis is an exceptional director, and there’s much I can learn from him,” Adrian said seriously, then shifting the subject, “Could you talk about how your father evaluates the actors he works with? Also, you can call me Adrian or Ed.”

The two of them chatted away, and from the light laughter Sofia frequently gave, it was clear that Adrian was keeping her very entertained. However, her face occasionally flashed a look of hesitation, as if she wanted to say something, but those words would change at the brink of expression.

“Do you want to say something, Sofia?” Adrian suddenly asked after a topic had ended.

“Um…” Sofia hesitated, smiling awkwardly as she tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, “I don’t know, Ed, I don’t know how to say it…”

“Actually, you aren’t suited to be an actress,” Adrian’s voice was soft, yet it struck Sofia like thunder, instantly freezing the smile on her face, her complexion gradually turning pale.

“Do you… think so too?” Sofia stared at him blankly, the sparkle in her eyes vanishing completely, leaving only disappointment. It was as if she had finally gotten a beautiful crystal ball, but in reality, it was just a glamorous bubble that burst upon touching.

“Your facial features are too strong, suitable for playing tough female characters–which not only limits your acting range but also demands more acting skill than other roles,” Adrian stated mercilessly, “Besides, you are very smart and rational, think too much, and thus find it hard to fully immerse your passion.”

“…You and my father said exactly the same thing.” After a long silence, Sofia sighed, her gaze drifting elsewhere.

“I guess Mr. Francis never said this in front of you, right?” Adrian asked with a smile.

“Yes, you’re smart, Ed, I overheard it; my father never said it to my face, he always encouraged me to try,” Sofia turned her head with a bittersweet smile, “you’re the first.”

“Every father is like that; they all want their daughters to be happy doing what they want to do,” Adrian shrugged.

“Thank you, talking to you is a pleasure,” Sofia’s mood seemed to wane.

“Why not think of it from a different angle?” Adrian suddenly suggested.

“Huh?” Sofia looked puzzled.

“Mr. Francis’s most praised talent isn’t acting,” Adrian smiled gently, “If one road is closed, why not try another? Maybe you’ll discover a broader world.”

“You mean… you mean…” Sofia hesitated as she looked at him.

“And moreover, Sofia, do you want to advance further on the path of acting because you truly enjoy being an actress, or do you want to prove something to those who mock and scorn you?” Adrian then asked.

Sofia abruptly lifted her head, her cheeks flushed with anger, but that quickly faded, and she stared at Adrian, saying nothing. Adrian did not speak further either, just calmly meeting her gaze.

After a while, Sofia twitched the corners of her mouth, gave a small laugh, and said, “Thank you, Ed. It’s a pleasure chatting with you.”

She then turned and left without looking back. Watching her retreating figure, Adrian shrugged, a faint smile crossing his lips. Reflecting carefully, Sofia Coppola’s works were few but of high quality. Being a female director naturally put her at a disadvantage. In his memory, what she had achieved at her age was already remarkable, and besides… seizing the opportunity to give a few pointers never hurt, and as for certain matters, he would see how things pan out in the future.

Shrugging again, Adrian walked away, unsure of where Cage had gone. After a round, he quickly rejoined the circle where he had previously been chatting with Old Coppola and others.

“Talking about something terrible?” Adrian joined in, looking around at the crowd. Francis Coppola and George Lucas had already left, leaving only Spielberg and several movie company executives.

“Ha, look who’s back. Didn’t I just see you chatting with Sofia, Ed?” Spielberg asked with a smile.

“Hmm…” Adrian laughed, surprised that despite the distance, Spielberg could see that. Could the old man have a prying eye?

“Don’t get it wrong; Frank mentioned when he left that someone seemed to have upset his daughter,” Spielberg laughed loudly.

“Miss Sofia is a really nice person, but sometimes she’s too assertive,” Adrian shrugged.

“The reporters and critics are too harsh, always eager to seize on a minor issue and criticize heavily,” someone remarked.

Sofia Coppola had played the daughter’s role in Francis Coppola’s third installment of “The Godfather.” Due to her poor acting–described as “wooden” by critics–and pushing Winona aside, both fans and media ridiculed her. She even won the Golden Raspberry Award for Worst Actress, reportedly leaving her in tears.

That’s why Adrian had asked her if she truly loved acting or wanted to prove something to those who mocked her.

“Let’s talk about something else, it seems you were all a bit down earlier,” Adrian changed the subject.

“We just received some bad news. Not only might we lose a great director, but the initial investment is also going to be a total loss,” said Warner’s executive Payne Clarkson, looking visibly distressed.

“Oh?”

“Stanley Kubrick has had a stroke, at his home in the United Kingdom,” he said depressingly, “Though he was revived, he’s now paralyzed in bed, unable even to speak, though his mind is still clear.”

“Is that true?” After the initial shock, Adrian narrowed his eyes.

“It’s confirmed, Ed,” Spielberg nodded.

Clarkson then chuckled bitterly, “You see, last year we agreed to support him in adapting Schnitzler’s novel ‘Dream Story’ into a film. We spent half a year preparing, switched actors several times, and Tom Cruise and his wife finally agreed to star. Now, all of that is going to be wasted.”

“Is that so? That’s really unfortunate…” Adrian stroked his chin, a spark of intent flashing in his eyes. “So, Payne, do you think I could take over this movie?” (To be continued. If you like this work, you are welcome to vote for it on wuxiaworld.site. Your support is my greatest motivation.)