King of Hollywood-Chapter 80 - Dissatisfied Claude

Chapter 80: Chapter 80 Dissatisfied Claude

Since “Pulp Fiction” from the past life had succeeded in obtaining the Palme d’Or at the Cannes Film Festival, the possibility of winning it again was quite high. Moreover, Adrian, who was extremely knowledgeable about film history, clearly remembered that “The Best Intentions,” which won the Palme d’Or at the 65th Cannes Film Festival the following year, was considered one of the most mediocre films ever to win at the festival.

There’s a certain dark humor to it, really. Quentin produced “Pulp Fiction” purely for entertainment, yet ironically, it was interpreted in all sorts of ways by critics and ended up snatching the Palme d’Or. While this success was partly due to the public relations efforts of Miramax, it’s undeniable that those enigmatic film critics played a big part.

In Adrian’s view, the characteristics of the movie lay in two aspects. Firstly, its episodic circular structure where three stories and their characters influenced each other; secondly, the theme of life’s unpredictability — quite covert, such as John Travolta shining in the first segment only to be killed off by Bruce Willis in the second. Or the gang boss initially ferociously pursuing Bruce, only to end up needing his help to escape after a certain embarrassing incident, not to mention Samuel Jackson and John Travolta inadvertently blowing the head off a guy in the backseat during a discussion in the third segment. These kinds of details were pervasive, and critics probably found it impressive for these reasons.

After all, “Pulp Fiction” was launched in 1994, and its narrative style and alternative representation of violence were indeed stunning during that era. Now, Adrian planned to release this film in 1992 instead. He already had two cult-type creations, “Lock, Stock and Two Smoking Barrels” and “Memento.” Producing another movie of this kind seemed logical, although the box office earnings could be lower than those films due to sequencing — or possibly even higher.

While the Palme d’Or didn’t hold as much sway in the United States as the Oscars, its international prestige was high and was a coveted award by many directors. With such a promising opportunity at hand, Adrian naturally wouldn’t let it pass. As for Quentin… he might as well keep running his video rental store; there would be more patrons for him later.

Actually, Adrian’s initial plan was to start working on “Howards End” after completing “Scent of a Woman.” However, he later realized that the Cannes Film Festival was held in mid-May. If he chose “Howards End,” there was no way “Pulp Fiction” could be finished before May, even though he was currently known as a progress maniac within the company.

Well, that wasn’t much of an issue, he could just swap the production timelines of the two films. After all, he held the adaptation rights for the “Howards End” novel, so there was no worry of it being snatched away.

Besides, although “Pulp Fiction” featured numerous sets, there was nothing significantly challenging in terms of directing skills. So if filming began at the end of January ’92, he was confident of wrapping up by mid-March, and then spending another month and a half on post-production. The timing would be just right. Of course, the primary requirement was to finish the post-production of “Scent of a Woman” and the script of “Pulp Fiction” beforehand.

Therefore, Claude was very dissatisfied with him.

“Be honest, Ed, if it weren’t for your father’s call, would you ever leave the house and go anywhere?” Standing in a corner of the lobby, Claude looked at the people mingling in the center, his tone teasing as he spoke to Adrian.

“How could that be…” Adrian started jokingly, but upon seeing Claude turn his head with a half-smile, he quickly changed his response. “Actually, if The Godfather hadn’t called, I would have gone shopping with Kate, followed by dinner and a drive around, and then visited the villa in Marbury. You know, it’s been a while since I’ve been there.”

“Don’t tell me you never received my calls before this,” Claude squinted.

“But you never made it clear over the phone, did you?” Adrian spread his hands, appearing somewhat roguish.

Claude looked at him for a long while, then sighed, “I don’t know what to say, Ed. Two years ago, you were out all night, and home was just a place to sleep; now, you’re busy with work all day, hardly sleeping. Although I understand your urgency, moving from one extreme to another is undoubtedly foolish.”

“Hey, when have I been so busy that I don’t even sleep? I admit I’ve been tight on time these days, but my schedule is very reasonable,” Adrian pointed out.

“Just last month at the beginning, I invited you for a drink in Puslan, and you refused; three weeks ago, I asked you to attend a party, and you declined again; ten days ago, I proposed going to the racecourse, and you still refused,” Claude calmly listed, “Your schedule indeed is reasonable, at a cost of repeatedly refusing me. If you like, I can even enumerate those from last year.”

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“Okay okay, I admit I was negligent. Next time you need something from me, I’ll definitely agree,” Adrian quickly said, and after thinking for a moment, he added, “No matter what I’m doing at the time!”

“Are you sure?” Claude asked seriously. After receiving Adrian’s affirmative reply, he said, “Alright, how about we go to my father’s golf course next Thursday and play a few rounds?”

“Oh, damn! You can’t do that, Claude!” Adrian immediately rolled his eyes. He was about to state something when Claude preempted him.

Typically, children from wealthy families learn horse riding, fencing, tennis, and golf—these activities are games of the upper class and both the racetracks and golf courses are places for socializing. Many business deals are decided during a game of golf. Adrian was decent at horse riding and tennis, passably good at fencing, but absolutely terrible at golf.

In Adrian’s memory, it was common for him to accidentally throw the golf club instead of just swinging it, and he sometimes even threw himself.

“Hey, you just agreed to whatever I ask, are you thinking of backing out now?” Claude asked with a smile.

“This… This isn’t fair!” It took Adrian a while to respond.

“The world isn’t fair, Ed,” Claude said in a lazy tone.

“Damn it!” Adrian glared at him, annoyed.

Fortunately, a voice broke the tense atmosphere at that moment: “Hey, Ed, Claude, you’re here.”

“Hi, Dad.”

“Hi, Godfather.”

Both turned their heads as they simultaneously greeted the old man, causing another person beside the elder to laugh, “You have a fine son and godson, Mr. Ronris.”

Upon seeing who it was, Adrian instantly raised an eyebrow.

(Ahh, I need all sorts of help, give it your best shot…)