The Best Movie Actor In Hollywood!

Chapter 503: Accusation of Racism! (2)

Spike was certain that political correctness held enormous sway over the Academy. Past examples were so numerous they had given rise to an unspoken rule that had solidified over the last two awards seasons: if you were unsure how to position yourself for next year's race, you turned your attention to racism.

If he could position himself as a voice against racial injustice, a champion for equality and freedom, by the time awards season rolled around—and combine that with a film that critics, especially the old guard at the Academy, would appreciate...

It was true, he despised that bastard Horner. Despised was perhaps too mild a word; he was utterly repulsed by him, especially after witnessing Matthew leading Sophia into a hotel, hand in hand.

But he wasn't petty enough to orchestrate all this purely for revenge. While getting back at Matthew was certainly a motivating factor, a delicious bonus, the real prize was the immense profit to be gained.

What director in Hollywood didn't dream of getting their hands on an Oscar? It wasn't just about the honor; it was a direct ticket to doubling your salary.

And beyond that, it was a chance to make history!

To date, no black director had ever won the Academy Award for Best Director.

With his film "Inside Man" earning critical acclaim after its release earlier this year, Spike had his sights set on the Oscar for Best Director. His initial strategy had been to get close to Sophia, hoping to leverage the Coppola family's power and influence to become the first black man in history to win the award.

Disappointed by the outcome with Sophia, he quickly found another path forward: harnessing public opinion and the political climate to add as much weight as possible to his campaign, all while employing the usual arsenal of award-season tactics.

The plan carried a certain degree of risk, but if it succeeded, the payoff would be astronomical. And if it failed? The worst that could happen was a waste of resources, but it wouldn't cause him any lasting damage.He would undoubtedly secure his place in American history. He would become the leader of Hollywood's black community, a representative for all African Americans in the nation, and perhaps even one of the most recognizable people of African descent on the planet.

With a legacy like that, who needed to worry about profits?

The minimal risk was nothing compared to the potential rewards.

Spike saw it, and his agent, seeing the potential future profits, was in full agreement with the plan.

James still offered a word of caution. "Spike, in the beginning, remember not to target individuals directly. Go after the film first. Let others lead the charge—especially Naomi Harris. She terminated her contract with her agent not long ago, is currently without representation, and was on the verge of washing out of Hollywood completely before she agreed to get involved. She isn't the brightest bulb, either."

"I get it," Spike replied. "I'll target the film first. Then, once public opinion is stirred up, we'll move on to the individuals involved."

James had confidence in Spike Lee, but that confidence didn't stem from Spike's skill as a director. As his agent, James knew deep down that Spike, even among all the black creatives in Hollywood, was a seasoned veteran at orchestrating these kinds of campaigns.

Spike Lee had been the catalyst for many of the past controversies involving the black community.

While James himself wasn't a leftist or a fervent advocate for black rights, his interests were inextricably linked with Spike's. The more successful Spike became, the more James stood to gain.

He kept some of his truest opinions locked away in his own mind.

For instance, he privately believed that Spike Lee's fame had little to do with his films. He felt Spike had reached the upper echelons of Hollywood directors thanks to the overt and covert support of the Coppola family, combined with over a decade of relentlessly pushing his agenda.

If you were to ask James, he'd say Spike wasn't famous for making good films, but for being a professional agitator. With the exception of his most recent movie, he was less a director and more a provocateur who specialized in racial commentary.

This time, he had truly hit the jackpot.

Frankly, James disapproved of the entire strategy. But his disapproval didn't mean he wouldn't see it through.

After all, in Hollywood, the only baby that gets fed is the one that cries the loudest.

Of course, as long as he was Spike Lee's manager, he would never breathe a word of it.

Instead, he would do everything in his power to help Spike achieve his goals.

So James made sure to remind him, "Matthew Horner and 300 are the perfect targets. The core of the Academy has long since reached a consensus: Matthew Horner is a vulgar actor with no artistic ambition, no respect for the values of the Oscars, and a head full of nothing but money and beautiful women. They can't stand actors like him."

"It goes without saying that a film like 300 is inherently unpopular with the Academy. Anyone who attacks the movie and Matthew Horner will find themselves aligned with the Academy's old guard."

Spike snapped, "Matthew Horner and 300 aren't enough."

"Hm?" James was puzzled.

"I'm going to drag someone with more weight into this," Spike said, having clearly thought this through. "I've been frustrated with him for a long time, too."

He briefly confided in his agent and

James considered the idea and voiced his opposition, but at Spike Lee's insistence, he was ultimately forced to fall silent.

After Jada Smith's career was immortalized by the image of Mrs. Smith, James's biggest hope was Spike, the "black rights crusader."

James and Spike went over several more details of the plan before the agent left the studio to get to work.

Spike set aside the newspaper, asked his assistant for another cup of coffee, and settled in at his desk, facing his computer.

Though he was nearly fifty, he had forced himself to learn his way around a computer and the internet to better do his job. A quick search for news about 300 revealed that public opinion was a study in contrasts, a true tale of fire and ice: critics found it utterly tasteless, while audiences were inexplicably ecstatic.

Spike remained in his studio until early afternoon. At twelve-thirty, a reporter from the online edition of The Hollywood Reporter was shown into the room.

"Hello, Director Lee."

The reporter, a black man in his early thirties, shook Spike Lee's hand. "Shall we begin?" he asked.

Like most successful people in Hollywood, Spike had a well-established network of media contacts. He was the type of celebrity who would stir up trouble when things got too quiet, which made him a favorite of the major entertainment news outlets.

Spike placed a prepared document on the desk in front of the reporter. "Let's begin," he said.

With a nod from Spike Lee, the reporter switched on his voice recorder and set it on the desk. He then took out a pen and a notepad before glancing at the document, which contained only a handful of questions.

These were clearly the core questions for the interview, but the journalist started with a few warm-ups, asking about the making of Inside Man, whether Spike had any new projects in the works, and so on.

After about ten minutes of this, it was time to get to the heart of the matter.

"Director Lee," the journalist began, "I noticed you attended the premiere of 300."

The journalist glanced at the document, then phrased the question in his own words. "The film has already broken several records, grossing over one hundred million dollars in its opening weekend. What are your thoughts on this phenomenon?"

Spike's answer was clearly well-rehearsed. His expression grew solemn as he declared, "The special effects are fine. Everything else, however, is just..."

He shook his head and continued, "From a distance, 300 looks like a commercial blockbuster. But up close, it's an extremist propaganda film. It's rife with Social Darwinism, including elements of eugenics, racism, the glorification of a specific male body type, and a rejection of homosexuality."

The answer took the reporter by surprise. "Could you elaborate on that?" he asked, almost subconsciously.

Spike, of course, was happy to elaborate. "The heroes are all a bunch of white men—tall, handsome, muscular, brave, and invincible. They're portrayed as flawless, while the one who betrays them is a grossly deformed character. And look at the dark-skinned people from the Middle East in the film. They're depicted as stupid, ugly, and senselessly evil. Their king might even be bisexual."

By this point, the reporter knew he had a major scoop on his hands.

"And..." Spike paused, forcing himself not to say the name aloud. "Of all the people the hero kills in that film, why did one of them have to be a black man? Do black people deserve to die? Or is that just a reflection of their prejudice?"

This was, in fact, the only real question on the document; the rest was just a platform for Spike Lee's grandstanding. "There's a growing number of problematic films in Hollywood these days," he continued. "It's not just 300. We saw the same trend with Flags of Our Fathers, which is coming out at the end of October."

He pushed his glasses up his nose and said solemnly, "In Eastwood's film, not only was there no black man raising the flag, but there wasn't a single significant black character in the entire movie. In his version of the war, black soldiers simply don't exist. You don't see a single black face in any of the scenes. This isn't the era of slavery anymore—does he not realize that? Why is he erasing the contributions of black soldiers in World War II? They died for America, same as the white soldiers!"