The Best Movie Actor In Hollywood!

Chapter 421

"Cut!" Zack's voice boomed from behind the cameras. He strode onto the set, stopping in front of the vast green screen. "Eva," he said, his tone firm but not harsh, "you don't look or feel like a queen!"

This was the fourth take Zack had called a halt to, and the issue was squarely with Eva. Having just joined the production today, she was visibly struggling to match the energy and immersion of the actors who had been on set for weeks.

Still, Zack remained patient. "You are the Queen of Sparta," he reminded her gently. "You know your husband is marching to face hundreds of thousands of Persian soldiers. It's a suicide mission."

Eva nodded. "I understand."

Zack gave Eva a final, assessing glance before turning back toward his director's chair. Truthfully, he wasn't convinced the French actress was the right fit for a Spartan queen. But Matthew and Helen had both vouched for her. Matthew was the cornerstone of the entire project, and Helen had already pulled some serious strings for them. He wasn't about to raise a fuss.

Besides, while she was technically the female lead, her role was closer to that of a supporting character.

"Don't be nervous."

Matthew whispered to Eva on the set, "It always shows on camera."

Eva offered Matthew a small, grateful smile.

The young actor playing their son took her hand, offering his own encouragement. "You're doing a great job," he said with surprising maturity.Eva reached out and gently patted the boy's shaved head. Matthew couldn't help but smile. "You're doing great too, kid."

The boy looked young, but he was actually twelve or thirteen—a seasoned Hollywood child actor.

The younger the child, the more unpredictable a shoot became. In Hollywood, it was an accepted truth that the two most uncontrollable elements on any set were children and animals.

Filming resumed moments later, and the trio—Matthew, Eva, and the boy—returned to their marks.

"300!" the assistant director called out, snapping the clapperboard in front of the camera. "Scene eleven, take twelve!"

As the sound of the clapperboard faded, a hush fell over the set.

Matthew turned and began to walk away, his back to the camera. Eva watched him go, her lips pressed into a thin line, her eyes filled with an unspeakable sorrow. Finally, as if she couldn't bear it another moment, her voice, trembling slightly, cut through the silence. "Spartan!"

Her call seemed to travel a great distance to reach him. Matthew turned his head, his expression as hard as carved stone, his brow furrowed just slightly. He was a man on a mission, and it was clear that nothing—and no one—could stand in his way.

He paused, turning fully to face her. "Yes, my Queen."

Eva met his gaze, then strode forward. Her eyes searched his, a world of meaning passing between them. She reached up, unclasped the wolf-tooth necklace from her own neck, and fastened it around his. "Return with your shield," she commanded softly, "or on it."

"Yes, my Queen."

Matthew gazed at Eva's pale face. A typical Hollywood script would have called for an "I love you" in this moment, but he remained silent. Spartans could not afford weakness. They could not be tethered by love. Only the strong could call themselves Spartans, and only the strongest could be their king.

Historical accuracy aside, the 300 Spartans of this film were marching to defend their country, to protect their people, and to fight for that eternal, central theme of mainstream Hollywood: freedom!

It was Hollywood's grandest theme, its ultimate justification. As long as a story could be told under the banner of freedom—and as long as it had the potential to make money—Hollywood would produce it, even if it meant vilifying other countries and cultures in the process.

Zack shot up from his director's chair. "Perfect! That was it!" he exclaimed.

But then he added, "Eva, you can do even better! Everyone back to one, we're going again in five."

Just as the crew was resetting for another take, David Ellison walked into the studio, accompanied by a young woman.

As the film's sole investor, David held the title of producer, but he knew better than to interfere in the day-to-day operations. His role was to provide the capital, not to meddle. Having come from a powerful business family and studied at the USC School of Cinematic Arts, he understood that a producer who constantly interfered only bred chaos. Instead, he had hired a specialized third-party team to oversee the production, and their daily reports to Skydance Media all confirmed the same thing: the shoot was proceeding smoothly.

Many in Hollywood considered David Ellison to be naive, but that was a simplistic view. With his elite education and the formidable financial backing of his family, he might have been inexperienced, but he was certainly no fool.

"Everything is shot against a green screen?" the young woman beside David asked, watching from the edge of the set. "Are you insane, David?"

Ellison simply shrugged. "Investing in movies is an insane business."

He glanced at her. "So, Megan, if you aren't insane, you shouldn't get into it."

The young woman was Megan Ellison, David's younger sister. She too was a wealthy heir with ambitions in the film industry, and she shook her head in disapproval. "I think your strategy is fundamentally flawed. It's foolish to sink all your capital into a single project. What happens if it fails?"

"Big investments in big productions are the only path to massive success," David countered flatly. "To prove myself as a serious film investor, I have to take big risks for the chance at extraordinary returns."

Megan immediately shook her head.

She scoffed. "Why not invest in independent films? Eighty million dollars is enough to finance ten indie projects. If only a third of them turn a profit, you're in the black."

David smirked. "I hear you're looking to work with someone like Harvey Weinstein."

He crossed his arms. "A guy like Harvey—domineering, arrogant, and notoriously predatory with women—is bound to implode one day."

Megan might have been young, but she possessed the Ellison family's sharp business instincts. "But he hasn't imploded yet," she pointed out. "He's still useful. He has resources and connections all over Hollywood, and I have money. We can both get what we want. And if he face-plants in the future, I'll have no problem kicking him while he's down. Maybe, if I'm lucky, I can even pick up the pieces of his Weinstein Company..."

She left the thought unfinished, but David got the message. His sister, though several years his junior, had always been far more ruthless and ambitious.

Even their father, Larry Ellison, had once remarked that Megan's only weakness was her youth and relative inexperience.

As filming began again on set, Megan lowered her voice. "A producer who's never produced before, a music video director who's only made one feature film... and you're gambling eighty million dollars on them. Do you really have that much faith in this movie?"

David's reply stunned her. "I don't have much faith in the director or the producer. I didn't invest because of them."

"What?" Megan stared at him, bewildered. "Then why did you?"

David raised a hand and pointed to the tall, athletic figure at the center of the set. "I invested eighty million dollars because the project has Matthew Horner."

Megan's eyes followed his finger, her first impression of the man was that he looked like a flawless statue carved by a Greek master.

David continued, "It's because Matthew Horner is the star that I was willing to put up the eighty million."

Megan raised a skeptical eyebrow. "Is he really worth that much?"

"Yes," David said with absolute certainty. "Megan, do you have any idea what the combined global box office is for the last five films he's starred in?"

Megan, whose interests lay firmly in the world of independent cinema, had little knowledge of commercial blockbusters. She shook her head. "I only know that Pirates of the Caribbean: The Curse of the Black Pearl was a massive hit, but Johnny Depp was the star of that, wasn't he?"

David didn't dispute the point. "The last five films starring Matthew Horner have grossed over two billion dollars worldwide."

Even for someone from a family as wealthy as hers, that figure was staggering. "Five films, two billion dollars?" she repeated, shocked. "How is that even possible?"

David smiled. "And you have to remember, the box office is just one revenue stream. The DVD sales for those five films will generate almost as much."

Megan was speechless.

David pressed his advantage. "A lot of people in this town say Matthew has the same golden touch for picking projects that Tom Hanks has. I don't believe in Zack Snyder, but I believe in Matthew Horner. If he chose this project, it's because he's confident it will be a success."

Megan fell silent for a moment, processing. "Dad always says that people with a consistent track record of success are far more likely to keep succeeding."

"Exactly." David watched Matthew on the set, his arms crossed over his chest. "And he's going to keep succeeding."

On set, Zack Snyder called out, "And... action!"

"We should go," David said to Megan, turning to leave. "The next scene is a passionate love scene between the hero and heroine. Not exactly suitable for kids."