Chapter 818: Chapter 819: How Could This Happen?
[Chapter 819: How Could This Happen?]
After the nominees for Best Original Song were announced, it was time for the nominees for Best Original Score to be revealed. Eric realized that since Titanic had already missed out on the Best Original Song category, if the Golden Globe Award voters truly aimed to stifle this film's chances at the behest of certain people, it was likely that they would only symbolically grant it a nomination in the Best Original Score category.
However, as Mira Sorvino read out the names of the five nominated films, Eric still did not hear Titanic mentioned. He tapped his fingers lightly on the glass table and smirked, muttering in frustration, "There was no need to be this harsh."
Feeling suddenly disheartened, Eric handed Kevin, who was nestled in his arms, over to Virginia, reached for a blank greeting card, and began to fill it out. The voices from the television in the living room continued, but the women noticed Eric's agitation and remained quietly cautious not to disturb him.
On the screen, the NBC host and his guests continued to read the long list of nominees, using quips to keep the atmosphere lively. With two nominations that should have been easy eluding them, Eric figured that the Golden Globe voters probably did not intend to give Titanic any nominations at all this year. Letting go of any remaining hope, he patiently adorned the greeting card with cursive letters, trying to calm the brewing irritation he had been feeling lately.
After the Best Foreign Film nominations were announced, the host made some light banter about the nominated films. Mira Sorvino then pulled out another list and read into the microphone, "Next, the films nominated for Best Screenplay at the Golden Globes are: Tom Stoppard and Marc Norman for Shakespeare in Love; Terrence Malick for The Thin Red Line; Ethan Coen and Joel Coen for Fargo; Jan Sardi for Shine; and... James Cameron for Titanic."
Feeling Mira Sorvino's intentional pause, Eric looked up. Hearing Titanic's name, nearby Drew immediately exclaimed, "Eric, we got the nomination!"
Eric nodded slightly, his expression clouded with confusion. He wondered about the Golden Globe's motives. Was it possible that the two preceding nominations were merely coincidences, and that the voters had truly not been swayed, leaving Titanic with a shot at core nominations like Best Picture?
With a flicker of hope, Eric quietly listened to the rest of the nomination announcement, but his rising expectations soon fizzled out. He did not hear another mention of Titanic. The film's one and only nomination was for the Best Screenplay, leaving it embarrassingly empty-handed elsewhere.
Typically, awards like the Oscars and Golden Globes aimed to maintain a semblance of fairness during nomination phases. If this were any other year, Titanic's quality alone would have warranted it recognition. Even if outside pressures influenced the Golden Globes, they would need to weigh the risk of losing credibility.
However, as Eric watched the announcement, he began to grasp that this year's climate was much different than in years past. This year was expected to be a banner year for the Oscars, arguably even a blockbuster one.
Just from the Golden Globe nominee list, it was clear that films like Shakespeare in Love, The Thin Red Line, Fargo, and Shine had all averaged over five nominations -- performing extraordinarily well. Other films like Jerry Maguire and Evita also stood out significantly.
In this context, the Golden Globe voters felt emboldened. With so many excellent films leading the pack, even if Titanic secured a nomination, no one believed that a purely commercial blockbuster could emerge victorious amongst such competition. Since Titanic had little hope of winning any awards, they felt justified in withholding it from the nominations, avoiding any risk to their credibility.
Eric even realized the implications of that Best Screenplay nomination. If Titanic had received Best Original Song and Best Original Score nominations, its strength in score would have allowed it to compete more effectively. Instead, only granting it a comparatively weak Best Screenplay nomination seemed to be a clear attempt to ensure Titanic left with nothing -- a complete shutout, with no chance of a breakout.
"Eric..."
Noticing Eric's extended silence, Virginia gently called out to him.
"I'm fine," Eric replied, bringing himself back to the moment. He looked into Virginia's concerned gaze and smiled, hesitating before mumbling to himself, "I'm just pondering whether Hollywood has too many movie companies."
Virginia didn't catch the hint of resolve in his eyes and asked, "So how many do you think is appropriate?"
"The Big Four, maybe three," Eric shrugged slightly. "Fewer would mean they wouldn't always be looking to see others trip so they could have more for themselves."
Virginia sensed the intensity in Eric's tone and chuckled slightly, responding, "Well, how could that happen?"
Just as he was about to respond, the phone on the glass table buzzed. Eric glanced at the caller ID; it was Jeffrey Katzenberg from Los Angeles.
He picked up the phone, signaled to the women, and stood up, saying, "I'll take this call."
...
As Eric discussed the potential impacts of the Golden Globe nominations with Katzenberg on the other end, Michael Eisner, just finishing watching the live broadcast in his Beverly Hills mansion, felt quite pleased.
Hollywood was a commercial arena; business was war. While the competition between major studios didn't usually reach dire extremes, rivalries ran deep. When an adversary hung on the edge, it was customary to give them a little push. Nobody was ever too gentle.
Eisner had also been involved in manipulating Titanic's nominations for the Golden Globes. However, he would not repeat the mistakes of years past by trusting any loose alliances. Instead, he orchestrated things from behind the scenes. Whether others were in on it or not didn't matter much; what counted was that there were many forces pushing forward from behind the curtain.
Despite a surface-level thaw in relations between him and Eric, he had not forgotten the day he was ousted from Disney. In light of Firefly Group's growing influence in Hollywood over the past few years, Eisner felt that if he hadn't been forced out, the current standing and glory of Firefly may have been his own.
After all, in the past couple of years, Universal's film business had seen tremendous growth, almost rivaling that of Firefly. This past summer, Universal's total box office even surpassed that of Firefly, which Eisner believed solidified his capabilities.
Yet, he also recognized that Universal had reached a bottleneck in its development.
With the rapid expansion of the global film market, Hollywood had come to realize the immense advantages and profits of blockbuster special effects films on a global scale. However, apart from Firefly, which had the resources to produce over three blockbuster films a year, the other major studios struggled. Without Firefly's digital realm for effects support, creating similar films would be nearly impossible unless they drastically lowered their standards for quality.
Warner Brothers, Universal, and Paramount could stretch every resource to produce only one or two major blockbuster films each year, often driven by limitations not primarily connected to funds, but rather to CG effects technology.
Digital Domain, the effects company founded by Eric Williams, had added two subsidiaries in Florida and Australia, boasting a workforce of over 2,300. While finding quality talent was feasible with substantial investment, the crucial advantage Digital Domain had over Hollywood's other effects companies lay in its years of technological expertise in CG effects -- a few years ahead of the curve.
Even as Eisner resisted cooperating with Firefly, Universal still needed to allocate a significant number of high-difficulty special effects shots to Digital Domain for The Mummy 2's production. The reliance on Digital Domain by other major filmmakers also created opportunities for continued technological growth and expertise, allowing Eric's company to pull ahead of the competition.
At this point, the other major studios had started to grasp a harsh truth: if Firefly cut off Digital Domain's external collaborations, they would struggle to produce films with visual effects competitive enough to match Firefly in the coming years.
For the Firefly Group, which boasted over $20 billion in annual revenue, the failure of Titanic would ultimately not have a drastic economic effect. However, many matters couldn't merely be measured in monetary terms.
With Titanic's production and distribution investments totaling an unprecedented $265 million in Hollywood history, such a failure would have a catastrophic impact on the confidence of the Firefly Group's filmmaking divisions.
This is precisely the outcome Michael Eisner hoped for.
Although Eric maintained absolute control over Firefly, he could not completely disregard the voices of the management team and other shareholders. That kind of stubbornness would leave the company in turmoil. Should a mega-project like Titanic fail, shareholders and executives would inevitably reflect on the production and distribution strategies employed in recent years, leading to a period of conservatism that would characterize Firefly's filmmaking direction.
With Digital Domain's 2,300 employees capable of supporting the production of four to six special effects films simultaneously, a more conservative approach to filmmaking by Firefly due to Titanic's box office failure would mean that preventing employees from idleness would rely heavily on accepting external contracts. This would simultaneously eliminate the possibility of cutting off Digital Domain's collaborative projects, giving rival studios the necessary time to catch up in film production and effects technology. By the time Firefly recovered from Titanic's setback, the gap between them and the competition might not seem so vast.
After subtly nudging Firefly during the Golden Globes, Michael Eisner planned no further superfluous actions. The entire industry was already aligning against Titanic -- this sentiment permeated even within the Firefly Group itself, where expectations for the film were low. Titanic's defeat seemed all but inevitable, and Eisner began considering Universal's development plans for the following year.
Making The Mummy 3 posed a considerable challenge. The success of the first two films meant that salaries for everyone from producers to stars had significantly risen. Launching production without either swapping out cast members to lower budgets or increasing budgets to invite the original team would involve substantial risk. Therefore, Eisner decided to initiate the production of the Scorpion King film, something that had been an idea of his for some time.
Sorting through his various thoughts, Michael lost track of time until nearly ten o'clock, when his wife, Jane Breckenridge, urged him to rest. After his quadruple bypass heart surgery two years prior, although he had recovered well, late nights were particularly detrimental to someone with a weak heart, and she monitored this aspect closely.
Hearing Jane's insistence, Eisner rose from the couch and headed towards the bedroom, all the while planning tomorrow's dinner with George Lucas to discuss the collaboration between Universal Pictures and Industrial Light & Magic.
Despite the strong backing from Microsoft, Eisner had little faith in the partnership between Spielberg and his colleagues at Amblin Entertainment, which kept Universal from being particularly proactive in competing for the film distribution rights. However, Eisner valued ILM's future prospects. Although they had fallen behind Digital Domain substantially, ILM represented one of the last potential rivals capable of catching up. Eisner understood that only with ILM thriving alongside Digital Domain could both avoid the risk of being pressured by Firefly.
*****
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