The Best Movie Actor In Hollywood!

Chapter 597

Entering the cinema's VIP lounge, Matthew spotted Alexandra Daddario and went over to greet her.

"Hi, Anna, long time no see."

A smile instantly lit up Alexandra's face when she saw him. "Good evening, Matthew," she replied.

Though their brief, couple-like relationship had ended quickly, there were no hard feelings between them. Matthew asked, "How's the shoot for your new film in Australia going?"

"Awful," Alexandra said, a flicker of something unpleasant crossing her face as her tone shifted. "An absolute nightmare. I have to cover myself in pig's blood every day."

Matthew smiled. "It'll all be worth it once filming is done. Don't forget, you're the lead. That's a rare opportunity."

Alexandra nodded and sighed, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. "You should visit the set sometime, if you get a chance."

"If I have the time, I'll definitely stop by," Matthew replied.

Alexandra didn't take his promise literally. Even filming in Australia, she still kept up with the entertainment news. Lately, Matthew had been actively "seeing" a young actress named Nina. When would he possibly have time to visit a former flame?

Others might not know, but she was well aware of Matthew's tendency to chase the new and quickly tire of the old. How many women could truly make him take them seriously? Amanda was one, but she was just a friend. They had never crossed that line and, by all appearances, never would.He had probably only ever truly loved his first love, Britney Spears. And perhaps he'd had some genuine feelings for Charlize Theron as well.

After a brief chat, Alexandra excused herself. Their romance had left her with fond memories, but it was, in the end, just one small chapter on a long journey.

As Alexandra walked away, Matthew watched her go, until a familiar female voice spoke up beside him. "You look like you regret letting her go."

Matthew turned to find Natalie standing beside him, having arrived at his invitation.

"A little," Matthew admitted with a smile.

Natalie smiled back, not believing him for a second.

"'Hancock' is finished filming," Natalie noted, her tone laced with what sounded like genuine concern. "Are you planning to take a break?"Matthew shook his head. "I can't. A major strike is brewing with the writers' guild, and it's affecting two of my projects."

Next January, the profit-sharing agreement between the producers' guild and the guilds for actors, directors, and writers was set to expire, and all the major Hollywood guilds were trying to secure better terms.

An A-list star like him had little to worry about, since the scripts for 'Fast & Furious 4' and 'Twilight' were already complete. Plus, strikes from the actors' and directors' guilds were unlikely. The producers' guild had always taken an appeasement approach with those two organizations—they represented the two most vital professions in the industry and were almost guaranteed to secure a new profit-sharing deal.

As for the writers' guild, given the current state of the profession, they would have a much harder time getting the terms they wanted.

"What about Andrew Stanton's project?" Natalie asked, her eyes fixed on him. "Will it be affected by the strike?"

Matthew sighed. "Andrew has finished the script, and David and I have spoken with him a few times. Disney Pictures is tied up with 'Pirates of the Caribbean 4,' and we don't have enough capital to fund it ourselves, so we'll have to find outside financing."

Hearing this, Natalie took the information in and added,

"Raising the money shouldn't be too difficult."

"It is," Matthew said, spreading his hands. "His project requires a massive budget."

Natalie nodded. If it weren't for the sheer amount of money involved, Plan B and Brad Pitt would have already contacted Andrew Stanton, who was still in the research phase and mulling over fundraising.

But according to Brad, if Matthew and David didn't make a move soon, they were prepared to step in.

Matthew glanced at his watch. "It's time to head in," he said. "Nat, we'll talk later."

***

Soon, the massive theater was filled to capacity, and the audience erupted in applause as Akiva Goldsman led the cast and crew to their seats.

The curtains parted, and the film began.

An empty city. A lone man. A dog.

The final cut, which Matthew had already seen in previews, had been heavily shaped by Guillermo del Toro, who was responsible for over eighty percent of what ended up on screen.

It was a true one-man show.

Following the classic Hollywood formula, the very thing that would drive humanity to extinction was, of course, humanity itself.

Medical science had engineered a new virus to cure disease, but it mutated, transforming the infected into something akin to living corpses.

No one knew the origin of the terrifying plague, only that it was unstoppable, irreversible, incurable, and—most importantly—man-made.

Colonel Robert Neville was a brilliant military virologist based in New York. A pioneer in the government's development of pandemic vaccines, he had watched helplessly as the virus ravaged the city.

Ultimately, the airborne virus swept through the city with such unstoppable speed that the president was forced to order a blockade of Long Island, allowing the uninfected a chance to escape.

As one might expect, this triggered widespread panic and chaos. Robert rushed to get his wife and daughter onto a helicopter out of the city, only to watch them die before his very eyes.

Leaning back in his seat, Christopher Nolan felt another pang of regret for failing to convince Matthew to star in his own project. He watched the screen intently, focused on the close-ups.

The once-bustling metropolis of New York had become a desolate, empty place—lonely and sinister.

Danger was a constant presence.

Grief, loneliness, despair, fear, the uncertainty of tomorrow... if the protagonist dwelled on these negatives, both the character and the film would lose their purpose.

That was why, despite the bleak, gray tones of the film, there was always the warm glow of sunset—a sliver of hope in the midst of despair.

From his own directorial perspective, Christopher Nolan found himself unconsciously analyzing the film's entire structure.

The plotline with the man and his dog developed quietly in the background, full of a subtle appeal. The film moved at a brisk pace, and just as the audience might have started to feel restless, the filmmakers twisted the knife: Sam was bitten and infected.

The protagonist is left with no choice but to end Sam's life with his own hands.

Matthew's acting was far better than the critics gave him credit for; his performance was genuinely praiseworthy.

He didn't overplay the internal anguish. In fact, his expression was often deceptively stoic. Yet anyone could see the pain and desperation simmering beneath the surface.

It was this contained emotion that laid the groundwork for his eventual breakdown, when the normally calm and self-possessed hero finally snaps, aiming his car at a horde of the infected in a desperate suicide run.

Of course, the film wasn't without its flaws. The ending, where the hero chooses to sacrifice himself to save the future of humanity, felt like a retreat into a conventional Hollywood hero trope.

But Nolan, a director himself, understood it was a commercial necessity. Even on his biggest films, he had to consider market appeal.