Chapter 200: A Chill
Chapter 200: A Chill
Everyone seemed to relax a little. They had also been worried that Eric would stubbornly choose the Best Screenplay award. After all, Eric had already achieved box office success beyond what most people could reach in a lifetime, so it was natural that his desire for personal film awards would become stronger. If The Others won the Silver Lion, the honor would belong to the entire team, but if it won Best Screenplay, it would belong completely to Eric alone.
“Eric, actually, this isn’t such a big deal. I think the Oscars are your real stage,” Bill Gallot said, seemingly trying to comfort Eric. Jonathan Demme nodded along as well.
Eric shrugged noncommittally. “Thanks, Bill. If only those stubborn old men in the Academy thought the same way.”
Everyone laughed, then continued discussing various matters before eventually separating. Eric returned to his room with the file on John Landis. This time, in order to avoid suspicion, Virginia did not follow him, while Allen was staying in another suite downstairs.
There were still several hours before nightfall in Venice, while it was still morning on the U.S. East Coast. So even though he had spent more than ten hours on airplanes, the biological clock he had maintained for years left Eric without the slightest trace of drowsiness.
After finishing John Landis’s file, Eric remained in his room until seven in the evening before changing clothes and heading out alone. The agreed meeting place was a restaurant near the Excelsior Hotel. Eric did not need anyone to guide him there, nor had he brought a female companion. Virginia was the female lead of The Others, and under these circumstances, being seen dining with a festival judge would inevitably invite unpleasant speculation. In comparison, Eric’s identity carried fewer such concerns. Besides, there probably were not many people here who could recognize him.
John Landis looked to be around forty years old. He wore black-framed glasses, had a large nose, and a full beard—a textbook Jewish appearance.
Another Jew!
Eric sighed inwardly. The file indicated that John Landis was also a good friend of Steven Spielberg. The two had even made cameo appearances in each other’s films.
Moreover, John Landis had risen to fame around the same time as Spielberg. In 1975, Spielberg became one of Hollywood’s top directors with Jaws, and three years later, John Landis’s Animal House earned over one hundred million dollars at the box office. Coincidentally, both men became famous at the age of twenty-eight.
However, based on Eric’s analysis, John Landis’s directing career had begun to fade in the 1990s, which was why Eric in his previous life barely had any impression of the director.
Inside the restaurant, after ordering the food, John Landis watched with interest as Eric conversed with the blonde waitress, who happened to speak English. After the girl left with the menus, John Landis finally spoke.
“Eric, you seem pretty familiar with Italian cuisine.”
Eric smiled and explained, “My father used to be an Italian chef.”
“Oh.” John Landis nodded and did not continue the topic. Clearly, he was not completely ignorant about Eric’s background and knew that Eric’s father had already passed away.
While waiting for the dishes, Eric and John Landis casually chatted, though naturally the topic remained centered around films.
“What surprises me isn’t how varied your film styles are, but that your films with completely different styles all managed to succeed at the box office. That’s the hardest thing to understand. You know, I’ve tried all kinds of genres too, but the films that performed best for me were all satirical comedies. Even Steven has been constantly trying to break through over the years, but his biggest successes are still science fiction films like Jaws and E.T..”
Eric replied, “That doesn’t necessarily prove anything, John. Maybe I’ve just been lucky. So far, I’ve only directed a handful of films. Once I make more, I’ll definitely run into failure too. At that point, I’ll probably realize what I’m truly best at.”
John Landis listened to Eric’s words, thought for a moment, then suddenly shook his head. “It’s different. You give me a very different feeling, Eric. Can you tell me where you learned filmmaking? I’m really curious. With your age, even a simple film like Home Alone wouldn’t have been easy to make. It took me several years after entering the industry before I had enough experience to direct my first movie.”
Of course, Eric could not say he had cheated by carrying over experience from another life, so he answered, “Actually, I was just lucky. I wrote the script for Home Alone, then happened to find an excellent team. I only needed to explain the effect I wanted, and they helped me make it happen. Without meeting them, maybe Home Alone wouldn’t even exist yet.”
John Landis showed no suspicion toward Eric’s explanation. Under normal circumstances, Eric’s personal experience really could only be attributed to good luck.
“I’ve watched Home Alone several times. That… Stuart Rankle, right? The little guy was really excellent. If I ever get the chance… forget it, better not.”
Eric already knew from the file why John Landis said that. Seven years earlier, while producing a film, an accident had caused the deaths of several actors, including two child actors. If minors had not been involved, it would have simply been viewed as a tragic on-set accident, since Hollywood had many such incidents every year. But because two children had died, Landis had been dragged into lawsuits for six years, only fully escaping litigation last year. It was therefore understandable that John Landis had become uneasy around child actors.
“John, honestly, don’t dwell on it too much. That incident is already in the past, isn’t it? And it truly was just a heartbreaking accident.”
John Landis took a sip of red wine before speaking in a low voice. “But they insisted on charging me with involuntary manslaughter. That was too much. I was only the producer. I wasn’t even present when the accident happened. I apologized publicly. I paid enough compensation. But some people just wouldn’t let it go. It took six full years before I barely got out of it. There was a period when I nearly collapsed and wanted to flee overseas like Roman Polanski. I didn’t want to go to prison.”
Recalling the incident mentioned in the file, Eric gradually sensed another layer of meaning hidden within John Landis’s tone.
Whether Roman Polanski had been set up or not, he still deserved punishment to some extent, since he had been caught violating a minor.
But John Landis’s case carried the unmistakable scent of conspiracy. Perhaps someone really had wanted to destroy him. Bringing down a competitor would free up a large portion of the box office market. After all, although John Landis was not as famous as Spielberg, he still had two films that surpassed one hundred million dollars at the box office, while several others had also performed very well.
Thinking about this, a chill unconsciously rose within Eric.
John Landis was Jewish. In Hollywood, he certainly had an entire Jewish circle supporting him. Yet even someone like him could be framed and dragged into litigation for six years. Compared to that, Eric himself was practically alone in Hollywood. If someone truly wanted to target him, the consequences would be terrifying.
Quickly shaking those worries from his mind, Eric knew this was not the time for paranoid anxiety. He said to John Landis, “Don’t think about those things anymore, John. It’s all over now, isn’t it? Look, your Coming to America last year was probably the most direct counterattack.”
Hearing Eric mention one of his proudest works, John Landis smiled. “That’s true. Not long after Coming to America was released, the whole thing finally ended. But if Coming to America hadn’t succeeded, who knows how much longer they would’ve dragged me through it.”
After that topic, John Landis also felt a bit closer to Eric.
“Eric, I’ve watched The Others several times. Whether it’s the suspense setup or the final twist, they’re absolutely brilliant. Back in May, Cannes selected its youngest-ever Best Director. I believe the Venice Film Festival won’t be too conservative either.”
Hearing John Landis say this, Eric understood that the man was likely leaning toward lobbying for him to win Best Screenplay. So Eric immediately shook his head.
“John, I’m only nineteen right now. I haven’t really thought much about honors and awards. If I receive recognition too early, I might lose the motivation to keep moving forward in the future. Don’t you think?”
John Landis froze for a moment before suddenly breaking into understanding laughter and nodding. “I understand now.”
Eric smiled as well and raised his wine glass toward him. John Landis knew Eric was thanking him, so he lifted his own glass and clinked it lightly against Eric’s.
“Don’t worry. I’ll do my best.”
Eric said nothing in reply and drained the red wine in his glass in one gulp.
After setting down the wine glass, Eric was just about to continue chatting with John Landis when he suddenly heard a somewhat familiar female voice nearby behind him. A few indistinct sentences drifted over.
“Haha, that fat guy just now was hilarious. He actually said I looked like… hehe, and he even claimed he was a director… but you… you’re too mean.”
Raising an eyebrow, Eric could not help glancing toward the source of the voice. A figure with curly brown hair entered his field of vision, and a smile appeared at the corner of his lips.
He had not expected Julia to come to Venice. Then the woman sitting across from her, whose figure was partially blocked, must be the Murdoch family’s second daughter, Elizabeth Murdoch.
“Did you run into acquaintances?” John Landis followed Eric’s gaze, but he was unfamiliar with Julia. He might have recognized her face-to-face, but he could not identify her from the back alone.
Eric nodded. “Two acquaintances, but they probably don’t want me going over to say hello. Better to leave them alone.”
John Landis looked toward the two girls in the distance and gave Eric a suggestive grin. “You have to take the initiative when chasing women. Just sitting here won’t make little beauties throw themselves at you.”