The Best Actor in the Vase of Meiyu

Chapter 1869 Helpless
"what."

Frank laughed, finding it funnier and more absurd the more he thought about it, and he couldn't control his laughter.

"Hahaha. Thank you, thank you for the fun, for bringing some surprises to the New Year. This must be the funniest joke I've ever heard in my eighty years of life."

laugh happily.

But the laughter sounded eerie and chilling.

Sure enough, Frank had the last laugh, and he suddenly exploded without warning.

“He should go to Paris. He belongs in Paris.”

"He has willingly degraded himself, demeaning himself to the level of a vase, a model, a pretty face, and that is his freedom. If he thinks people will applaud his choice, he has clearly overestimated his power. Paris Fashion Week is nothing compared to the Oscars."

"Nothing good."

"Doesn't he know that even Anna Wintour and Karl Lagerfeld dream of coming to the Oscars, and even Dior wants to be a sponsor of our red carpet guests? Everyone longs to come to the Kodak Theatre, but he cleverly went to Paris instead?"

"I thought he was a smart man, but now he seems incredibly stupid, a complete idiot. His brain is full of straws."

anger.

Frank was truly enraged; the humiliation and frustration instantly overwhelmed his reason, and he began to speak recklessly, spewing profanities—

Anson actually skipped the Oscars for Paris Fashion Week? The Oscars are actually less important than Paris Fashion Week?
Damn it.

Frank had never experienced such humiliation; it was even more damaging than a slap in the face.

The assistant could feel the overwhelming rage emanating from him, and he stood trembling in the raging storm, but he still had to remind Frank.

"gentlemen……"

Before he could even finish his shout, Frank's anger erupted once more: "Let him go."

"If he believes that choosing Fashion Week over the Oscars proves his worth as an actor, then let him go."

"He thinks he's invincible, he thinks he's unique? Foolish."

"Arrogant! Proud!"

"Look at Hayden Christensen! Look at Lindsay Lohan! They thought they could break the rules of the industry, they thought they were invincible after making a name for themselves, ah ha, and look at them now?"

"This is Hollywood, where countless handsome men and beautiful women come in every day trying to prove themselves, but they don't realize that physical appearance is the least useful thing."

"Paris?"

"Paris!"

As he was talking, Frank lost control and suddenly stood up, sweeping everything off the desk onto the floor.

Golden Globes. Grammys. Paris Fashion Week. And then, completely ignoring the Oscars?
Even a fool could picture the media gloating and kicking someone when they're down. Is this what Anson's plan is?

Frank was furious.

"This is the plan of the innovative artists? They're even more foolish than William Morris, actually wanting to confront us head-on, without even knowing who's the Titanic and who's the iceberg!"

"Ban!"

“Since he has decided to fight against the Academy, then I will grant his wish. I am Aladdin’s lamp, always listening attentively to the desires of these foolish humans.”

"We will completely blacklist him, not just this year, but next year, the year after, and the year after that, forever and ever!"

"If he thinks he can become Woody Allen, he is very wrong. I will do everything in my power to make him lose all hope for the future."

Cracking and popping, filled with uncontrollable rage.

Frank finished speaking in one breath, then felt a sudden oxygen deprivation in his brain, gasping for breath. He slumped heavily back into his chair, panting heavily. At eighty years old, he couldn't even hold his swear for a minute.

The assistant stood to the side, grimacing, having tried to interrupt Frank but hadn't found an opportunity. Now, seeing Frank's pale face and sweaty appearance, he felt a pang of pity.

Should he take care of Frank first, or...?

“Sir,” the assistant finally spoke up, worried that if Frank continued his tirade and there was no opening, the important information that followed would not be able to be conveyed.

Even if it's tough, I still have to say what needs to be said. "There's another rumor: Cannes personally invited Anson to attend."

In a rush, the assistant still managed to deliver the news—

Anson did not give up on himself, nor did he degenerate into a mere pretty face or a model; he still aspired to become an excellent actor.

Anson is planning a trip to Cannes to explore the artistic mecca of Europe's three major film festivals, and his trip to Paris Fashion Week is not, as it may seem, just a tantrum.

Anson simply... simply refused to continue trying to please Oscar.

Grammys. Golden Globes. Cannes Film Festival. Anson has already made his stance clear, but the Oscars are putting on airs and unwilling to give Anson a chance, even pettily refusing to acknowledge Anson's efforts and contributions. Therefore, Anson is unwilling to shamelessly pester the Oscars any longer.

So, whose fault is this?

Who will the media, the audience, and netizens condemn next? Will they continue to condemn Anson, or will they condemn the Oscars for their pretentious posturing?
The answer is self-evident.

A small news item stirred up ripples in Frank's mind. How could he not see the trap that even his assistant could spot?

This is a crisis for the Oscars, and could even be a public relations disaster.

Frank's brain was deprived of oxygen, and he couldn't process what was happening for a while. He was suddenly thrown from one hell to another, and his confident and assertive demeanor froze.

All his anger froze into ice, and he felt as if he were floating in mid-air.

He couldn't believe it; there was a backup plan, a trap hidden behind the conspiracy, and Anson had actually checkmated him.

The content of the recent mainstream reports from authoritative media flashed through my mind like a revolving lantern, and countless guesses and speculations erupted all at once.

In an instant, my heart clenched into a ball, and then—

Just when the assistant thought Frank had suffered a cardiac arrest, Frank's eyes widened and his face turned red as he roared in anger.

"Grass!"

"Dior and Cannes colluded to scam me!"

Frank immediately made a connection: Dior and Cannes are both French productions, and Dior is an official sponsor of Cannes. So, is this a declaration of war by European art films against Hollywood?
Berlin and Venice are unlikely, but Cannes?
Anger surged and roared above my eardrums.

A surge of adrenaline and the explosive pounding of his heart overwhelmed him. With great difficulty, Frank managed to regain some semblance of rationality and deny the possibility.

What is Anson? He's a typical Hollywood product. If European art cinema is going to rebel against Hollywood, it shouldn't be choosing Anson. If Dior and Cannes really intend to choose Anson as the representative of art cinema, they don't need to wait for Hollywood's counterattack; the French Cahiers du Cinéma faction could drown Cannes with their spittle.

There are many more suitable and correct options besides Anson.

Therefore, Dior and Cannes should not have colluded.

But this doesn't mean everything is random. In Hollywood, there are no coincidences. Even if coincidences do exist in real life, they should be seen as conspiracies, plans, and schemes.

Moreover, Frank will not forget Anson's backer, Creative Artists Agency. If there are very few rivals that the Academy of Motion Picture Arts and Sciences dare not confront head-on, then Creative Artists Agency is definitely one of them.

A predicament suddenly loomed before them.

However, Oscar still has a chance; the key is how he decides to do it and in which direction.

(End of this chapter)