Chapter 450: American-Style Socializing

Allison noticed Chen Nuo staring at the photo in the newspaper and said on the side: "John Barrymore was called a great profile by Americans 100 years ago, I think 100 years later there will also be many people calling you that."

Chen Nuo muttered: "Is that so, but I only hope that when my face is on the ground, it can be stepped on less."

Allison clearly hadn't followed his train of thought; she froze for a moment, then said with a suppressed smile, "I think your mark here probably doesn't get a second of rest 24 hours a day. No one would have that kind of opportunity."

Chen Nuo wasn't actually that sensitive, just said it casually, didn't take it seriously, and also smiled and said: "Allison, I'm just joking."

Subsequently, he turned the newspaper to the entertainment section.

Sure enough, Allison didn't lie, the wording in this section was indeed wonderful, and it could even be said to be full of thick fighting style.

To be honest, in his memory of his past life, Chen Nuo had never seen such straightforward words in any mainstream American newspaper discussing China.

Even among the few voices supporting the Asian community, the hesitation and reservation in their words were always impossible to hide.

This made him subconsciously look at the author's byline on the article.

It was a freelance critic named Jonathan Winters.

The name sounded unfamiliar, but he was definitely not Asian, let alone Chinese. Just looking at the name, it was impossible for his ancestors for eight generations to have had any connection to the East. Yet, the review he wrote sounded as if his ancestors for eighteen generations had been publicly humiliated.

The title alone was extremely impactful—

"Yesterday, in the Golden Globe nominations list, I witnessed the greatest act of racial discrimination in 21st-century Hollywood."

And the content of the article was firing on all cylinders:

"Has the Hollywood Foreign Press Association forgotten its identity? Their existence was supposed to be part of the globalization of film, intended to help Hollywood understand the world—not to exclude the world!"

"Do you really expect me to believe this is a realistic situation? Even with a total lead in box office, word-of-mouth, and performance, Chen Nuo still doesn't deserve even a single nomination?"

"How can I believe there isn't an element of racial discrimination in this?"

"... If 'Inception' were a work starring Brad Pitt, would it have failed to receive even a nomination? The answer is obvious..."

"... Audiences who have seen 'Inception' should deeply resonate with me. Look at the achievements it has attained so far; whether it's the historic box office performance, or the ratings on IMDb and the evaluations from film critics, all of it proves this is a great work that comes along once every few decades..."

"... Chen Nuo's performance in it can also be called excellent. Who could forget the thrilling car chase scene he performed on the snowy cliff? And who wouldn't be moved by the tears he shed for love and family in the depths of the dream?"

"... To have such a person excluded from the Golden Globe nominations is simply comparable to a reprint of the 1882 'Chinese Exclusion Act'! This is an insult, a disgrace, and it brings shame upon the entire United States!"

Damn it.

That's not right, this...

The more Chen Nuo read, the more wrong it felt. He raised his head, looked at Allison's serious expression, and suddenly understood something. He said, "Is this your person?"

Allison shook her head and said, "How could it be?"

Chen Nuo let out an "Oh."

In that case, it seems his goal wasn't as difficult as he had imagined. Look at that, he had only just started, and it felt like he was already reaching the finish line. With these American justice-seekers who speak out against injustice, why worry about failing to achieve his grand goal?

"This is Warner's person," Allison continued.

Chen Nuo choked slightly.

"As soon as the results came out yesterday, I contacted Warner. This kind of opportunity absolutely cannot be missed," Allison said calmly. "I believe that as long as we manage it well, public opinion will definitely be on our side."

"This one, this one, and this one—take a look."

Chen Nuo took the other few newspapers and began to flip through them carefully.

The reviews in these were much more normal—

"Entertainment Weekly": "In the genre film 'Inception,' Chen Nuo carries the core burden of the entire work with a surprising emotional depth. His absence is one of the most disappointing regrets of this year's Golden Globes."

"The New York Times": "Perhaps it's a bias against genre films, or perhaps it's a problem with the voting mechanism, but when an actor delivers such an outstanding performance in a globally acclaimed film and still fails to receive a nomination, one cannot help but question the Golden Globe's evaluation system."

"USA Today": "Chen Nuo's performance is impeccable; he shaped a protagonist character who is both highly charismatic and contradictory. The Golden Globes may have their own criteria, but the eyes of the public are sharp."

He spent about five or six minutes scanning through these objective and neutral articles.

Guli Nazha had already changed her clothes and come out with her hair blown dry. She was carrying a tray with two cups of coffee—one for him and one for Allison—after which she stood to the side in a well-behaved manner.

Allison thanked her, took a sip, and then said, "These are also Warner's people."

"Pfft!"

Chen Nuo suddenly sprayed the coffee in his mouth out.

"These too?"

"Yes, they are all media from the Warner system. As for News Corp, they certainly wouldn't say anything nice about us."

"... Uh, alright."

"It's clear that Warner also wants more nominations to break the record set by 'Avatar,' so they have done their best. And now, I bet those people at the Foreign Press Association are definitely regretting it. What we need to do is make them regret it even more, let this public opinion storm that has just begun blow even harder, and ultimately make those old fossils at the Oscars recall your friendship with them last year, making them suddenly realize that it's not worth it to go against you for the sake of a nomination!"

After saying this in one breath, she suddenly turned her face to praise Guli Nazha: "My dear, your coffee is delicious. Can you teach me how you brewed it?"

Guli Nazha pursed her lips and smiled shyly, "I just found a tutorial online and learned from it."

"Then can you forward a copy of the tutorial to me?"

"Of course."

"Thank you, my dear."

Allison spoke with the kindness of a neighborly aunt.

At noon on December 20, 2011, the 69th Golden Globe Awards nomination luncheon was held at the Beverly Hilton Hotel in Beverly Hills.

This is a routine banquet held by the Golden Globes after every nomination announcement. As one of the important social events of the annual awards season, its purpose is to provide an occasion for nominees and members of the Hollywood Foreign Press Association to interact face-to-face, while also building momentum for the upcoming awards ceremony and promoting media attention and industry discussion.

Perhaps in the eyes of the Chinese, this kind of occasion has a bit of red tape and feels like an unnecessary move, but in the American social environment, this is as normal as it gets.

This is a country where parties and banquets are held for the smallest of things, 365 days a year.

Just like Chen Nuo.

In the five days from the announcement of the nomination list on December 15 to December 20, he had received over ten invitations. Even if he wanted to rest, he eventually had to attend three parties out of social obligation.

Among the three, there were both formal and casual ones, including a masquerade ball themed "60s Hollywood" co-hosted by Leonardo DiCaprio and Kate Winslet, a low-key birthday dinner for Morgan Freeman, and a "Director's Roundtable Night" co-hosted by Paramount, "Variety," and "Vanity Fair," which included almost all the directors and producers with the highest Oscar buzz this year.

In short, this was the first time Chen Nuo had spent the year-end social peak period before Christmas at his home in Beverly Hills without working. Only when he attended these various extravagant parties, which could be said to have no meaning, did he truly begin to integrate into American high society.

Fortunately, although he had only been involved in small-time affairs in the Korean and Chinese communities in Los Angeles in his previous life, and had never entered such dinners filled with champagne, beauties, Hollywood stars, and Forbes-list billionaires, he had at least seen how things worked even if he hadn't experienced them himself, so he managed to handle it with ease.

At these parties, he not only met many people but also let many people get to know him anew.

Don't underestimate this point, just like how Mark Zuckerberg would later go for morning runs at the Bund and learn to say "I love you, China" in Chinese to promote Facebook.

For his own purposes, Chen Nuo would naturally restrain his impatience and patiently carry out American-style socializing. It just so happened that he could also take the opportunity to recruit people, inviting some actors and directors with open schedules to visit Shanghai next June.

Therefore, even if Allison hadn't bought those articles and asked him to show up at the luncheon to carry out the next step of the media offensive, he would have actually come anyway.

The only problem, perhaps, was the minor issue that he wasn't a nominee or a sponsor and didn't have an invitation.

But neither he nor Allison seemed to have overlooked this point.

At 11:30-something on the morning of December 29, at the entrance of the Beverly Hilton Hotel.

He stepped down from a rented Bentley Mulsanne. Sunlight spilled onto the fabric of his custom-made suit. The concierge behind him gently closed the car door, emitting a low, soft "click."

In front of the main entrance, a middle-aged male receptionist wearing a crisp black suit and a headset was waiting there.

With one hand behind his back and the other hanging naturally at his side, he saw Chen Nuo approaching, took a step forward, bowed his head with a smile, and said, "Good afternoon, Mr. Chen."

"Good afternoon."

"Welcome to the Golden Globe nomination luncheon. Please show your invitation."

"I don't have one." "Very well, please come in."

The receptionist nodded and naturally made a gesture of invitation. The doormen on both sides opened the doors accordingly. Chen Nuo nodded at them, straightened his suit, and walked into the Hilton Hotel lobby.

"You came?"

"Uh-huh."

"I bet the people at the Hollywood Foreign Press Association are the last people who want to see you right now," Leonardo DiCaprio said, keeping his head down. Because there were simply too many eyes around, looking at him from time to time, he could only suppress his laughter and say this under the public gaze.

Chen Nuo sat next to him, generously straightening his napkin and spreading it on his lap, saying blandly, "You're wrong, Leonardo."

"Hahahaha, is that so? Do you think they want to see you right now?"

"Of course. Exposure—that is the purpose of the luncheon." Chen Nuo turned his head to look to the right, "Christopher, don't you agree?"

Christopher Nolan, sitting on his other side, managed a strained smile and said, "That's right. But the Golden Globes not nominating you for Best Actor is definitely a mistake. I'm not sure they want this kind of exposure."

"Why wouldn't they? Christopher. Actually, it's fine that I wasn't nominated. If I really had been nominated, what would happen to the person next to me?"

"Damn." Leonardo rolled his eyes, "I admit you play with water guns better than I do, but do you really think you can beat me in the movie?"

"Not necessarily," Chen Nuo shrugged and said with a smile, "But what if you only filmed for forty days? Haha."

"Thirty days..." Leonardo curled his lips, looking regretful, "If I had known it would turn out like this, I definitely wouldn't have been in such a rush."

That's right, in order to film the role of the rescued Chinese laborer, Leonardo had spent almost the entire year of 2011 gaining weight, but who knew Quentin would keep delaying the start of filming. Fortunately, he gained weight until April, and his physique happened to match the role of a former FBI director, so he temporarily took on a biographical film—"J. Edgar."

In the end, it only took about 33 days to finish filming.

What can you film in a month?

Sure enough, after "J. Edgar" was released not long ago, the response was mediocre, and it flopped so hard it was unrecognizable.

But Warner Bros. tried their best and managed to "salvage" this film during the awards season—and Leonardo was thus nominated for a Golden Globe for Best Actor.

This made him ecstatic. A few days ago, he even held a masquerade party with Kate Winslet, who was nominated for Best Actress in a Miniseries/Television Film for "Mildred Pierce," where they played water gun games, eventually getting everyone at the party soaked.

Allison, however, was deeply bothered by this, especially by Warner Bros.' favoritism in their PR for Best Actor.

"By the way, congratulations," Leonardo said in a sour tone.

"For what?"

"'Twilight' has a good box office, and you acted very well."

Chen Nuo laughed, "The weekend box office hasn't come out yet, so it's hard to say for sure. Did you go see it?"

"I went last night. Damn, I really didn't expect... if you could act like that, why did you act the way you did before?" Leonardo asked seriously, "Was it really just to sell more tickets? Or were you just too young at the time?"

Chen Nuo shook his head and said, "Do you think my performance in 'Twilight 1' was very bad? I don't think so. Just like your 'Titanic,' I think your Jack is the best Jack, no matter what you think. I think even if you went back to being 17 now, you wouldn't be able to act better than you did then. Do you understand what I mean? I think it was precisely because I was too young at the time and didn't think about anything that 'Twilight' became so successful."

His words were half-true and half-false, but Leonardo clearly believed them, nodding thoughtfully.

Clint Eastwood, the director of "J. Edgar" sitting next to Leonardo, interjected at this moment: "Roland Barthes' 'Death of the Author' theory. He said that when a creator creates a character, that character has nothing to do with the creator, and all interpretations of him belong to the audience."

This was the first time Chen Nuo had met this Hollywood legend, so he politely complimented him, "Well said. Neither I nor Leo could ever say something like that in our entire lives."

Leonardo said with dissatisfaction, "Don't drag me into this, I'm different from you."

Chen Nuo lowered his voice and said, "Right, at least I have a few books at home, while you only have bras, marijuana, and water guns."

"Hahahahaha."

Hearing this, Nolan and Clint all laughed.

Leonardo couldn't help but laugh too, but he said, "I swear, even if I lie at home counting stars next year, I won't go to Shanghai."

Chen Nuo ignored him and said to Clint Eastwood, "Director, are you free next year? My jury still has quite a few empty seats..."

This was Chen Nuo's recent recruiting tactic, stuffing people into the Shanghai Film Festival jury whenever he saw them, making it seem like he really had the final say. Little did they know that the jury members were all decided by the organizing committee. As the jury president, he had no say in the matter.

Clint Eastwood, the once most famous Hollywood tough guy, was already 80 this year, but he was still in excellent spirits. He smiled and said, "If I have time, I will definitely go."

"That's great, thank you~"

At least 10 people had agreed verbally like this over the past few days. Chen Nuo didn't know how many would actually make the trip in half a year, but he figured he'd trick whoever he could.

After a while, the banquet officially began.

First, the president of the Hollywood Foreign Press Association took the stage to give a speech, welcoming all guests and nominees, and briefly introducing the overall direction of this year's awards. Subsequently, the food was served.

From this moment on, the entire venue entered a time for free interaction.

Many people finished eating in a few bites and then began wandering around the venue holding champagne or cocktails—this was originally a vanity fair to build momentum for the upcoming awards season, an important node for everyone to show their faces, pave the way, and hand out business cards. Many people came here for this very purpose.

However, the people at Chen Nuo's table had no need for socializing, so they ate relatively slowly, chatting while they ate.

Especially the elderly Mr. Eastwood; after filming two box-office flops in a row, he was drooling over the money-making ability of the Chen-Nolan duo and asked quite a few questions.

Just after exchanging views with Nolan on how to balance audience preferences with a director's artistic pursuits, he changed the subject and made a joke: "If I could film a 'Twilight,' I would announce my retirement immediately. I'm serious... Chen, what is your box office expectation for this 'Twilight'?"

Chen Nuo thought for a moment and said modestly, "Around 800 million, I guess."

"Impossible!" Leonardo said immediately and decisively, "The opening weekend box office for this one got the highest result in the 'Twilight' series, and the word-of-mouth and ratings are currently the best in the entire series as well. The final box office will definitely be more than 800 million. I think it should be able to reach 1 billion dollars."

The old man shook his head helplessly and said, "Hearing this, I feel like I'm really old."

"Who says? I think you can keep filming until you're 90," Chen Nuo laughed.

The old man chuckled, "I hope so. When that time comes, I will definitely pay a high price to hire you as my male lead."

"No problem," Chen Nuo promised. He turned his head and said with a smile, "Leo, why do I feel like you're very concerned about my movie?"

Leonardo nodded and said generously, "Yes, I am very concerned. Because I'm jealous. Ever since you told me on the phone that day how much money you could make from 'Inception,' I have been very, very jealous. The reason I pay attention to 'Twilight' is because of this, but I didn't expect it to be successful again. Seriously, I have an idea. Director, I don't mean anything else. I just want to say from the bottom of my heart, perhaps you could help me choose my next movie, Chen?"

Chen Nuo sliced a piece of smoked salmon, put it in his mouth, and said, "I can't. If I have a good script, I have to save it for myself. I don't have any movies to film next year yet."

"Aren't you filming a TV series? You don't have time..." Leonardo said with dissatisfaction.

"Chen, you're filming a TV series?" Clint Eastwood was taken aback.

"Yes, a Hong Kong TV series, which will be released on Netflix at that time."

"Why?" Clint Eastwood shook his head in disbelief, "A TV series? As a talented actor like you, why go film a TV series and waste your time? What can it bring you? Money? Or fame? It does nothing for your acting skills."

See, this is the attitude of old-school Hollywood filmmakers toward TV series. Chen Nuo said, "On one hand, it's money; on the other hand, I want to try something new. I actually think TV series can have more of a cultural impact than movies..."

Chen Nuo was halfway through his sentence when his gaze suddenly crossed Eastwood and landed on someone not far behind him.

A young Asian girl with black hair and black eyes was standing by the wall opposite, about ten meters away from them. She was very young, looking to be only around twenty, with long hair draped over her shoulders, fair skin, and a high, delicate nose bridge. She was wearing a server's uniform, standing stiffly with a tense expression, looking very uncomfortable.

At this moment, she looked over, and her gaze happened to meet Chen Nuo's in the air.

Afterward, her expression showed visible panic, then she calmed down, shifted her gaze, and looked elsewhere.

Chen Nuo hadn't expected to run into this person here.

He suppressed the slight fluctuation in his heart and continued as if nothing had happened:

"... It can influence the lives of the audience for a longer time. This kind of influence is not necessarily smaller than that of a movie."

"Is that so? A Hong Kong TV series? Cultural influence?" The old man looked amused.

"Yes." Seeing that Eastwood didn't believe him, Chen Nuo didn't intend to continue explaining. He didn't have a weak spine and didn't crave anyone's approval. Especially not from an 80-year-old man like this; unless he saw it with his own eyes, saying anything more would be useless.

Nolan interjected from the side, "Chen, if your TV series needs help, you can tell me."

"Don't worry, I will," Chen Nuo said.

At this moment, Philip Gabriel, the president of the Foreign Press Association who had just spoken on the stage, walked over.

"Hello, gentlemen. I hope I'm not interrupting your meal. I have a small matter to discuss with Chen. Chen, is it convenient for you?"

Chen Nuo wiped his mouth with a napkin and stood up, "Of course."

(End of chapter)