"A sword for a hero. I don’t like Elvis much, and I happened to have his album, so giving it to you made sense.
If you still feel awkward, put in a word for me with the Boss and get me into her next film. That would be the best payment, and I’d be grateful."
Britney laughed and leaned against Irene.
"If you take an acting class, I’ll find something for you later this year." There were no major male roles in the new film, but it would suit someone with Edward’s limited experience.
"Boss, you have a new project?" Edward’s eyes brightened.
"Shh, it’s only a plan. Keep it quiet for now."
Edward covered his mouth. "I promise I won’t say anything."
The lights in the theater went out, images appeared on the screen, and the MGM lion roared.
Hall Carter was a lesser-known critic for The Washington Post. As the film started, he looked around.
The theater was fairly full. Besides press, most attendees were young people. Given the cheers earlier, many were likely here for Britney Spears, not the film.
Most of his colleagues had chosen Eyes Wide Shut. With too many reviews already in progress, he decided to take a different route and cover Legally Blonde, hoping to find something distinct.
The opening moved quickly, and he focused on the film.
As the story progressed, he took notes.
Simple framing, appropriate music, a light tone, engaging performances, and a direct plot—these elements held the audience’s attention without effort.
Soon he heard natural laughter in the room. Engagement felt easy.
The main limitation was the film’s simplicity, but for a debut director, that was understandable.
However, simplicity had benefits. It would attract teenagers, and it refuted the rumor that Francis Coppola had ghost-directed for his daughter.
Anyone familiar with production could see the inexperience in the shots—not something Francis would deliver.
The final frame held on the pink figure. That shot was the film’s strongest moment; he would rate it highly.
"Wow..." As the credits rolled, applause filled the theater.
"Elle is amazing. I want to be like her."
A girl’s comment came from behind Hall Carter. He wrote in his notebook: "Audience response: strong."
By the time he gathered his things and left, he still heard positive remarks around him, with little negative feedback.
He checked his watch and walked quickly to his car. There was an hour before Eyes Wide Shut ended, enough time to draft a solid review. This might be a break.
Irene left with the group. She planned to go home, but Edward invited everyone to a club to celebrate their first release.
She was tired and wanted to bathe and sleep, so she declined.
But Britney was energetic and wanted to go. Irene couldn’t refuse openly, so she told Edward to look after Britney, avoid questionable venues, limit public drinking, and protect her image.
After Edward agreed, he left with a large group, driving the sports car he’d loaned to production.
Irene didn’t wait for anyone else, got in her car, and told the driver to take her home, leaving her father behind.
When Francis finished his conversations and looked for his car, it was gone.
"Let me drive you, Mr. Coppola. I have a few follow-up questions," said Joyce Jackson, MGM’s head of acquisitions.
She had been discussing promotion and expansion with him, which was why he was delayed.
Francis smiled faintly, noncommittal. He glanced at George Lucas nearby.
"Thank you, Ms. Jackson, but I’ll ride with Lucas. This collaboration has gone well, and I look forward to tomorrow’s results." He turned and left.
Joyce didn’t press. She watched Francis go, smiling. She had hoped to discuss Star Wars with George Lucas today, but he avoided the topic.
She considered going through Francis, but received a cool response. Both men were difficult to pin down.
Later, the Eyes Wide Shut screening ended. Jessie and several friends walked out. At the door, they were yawning, looking tired.
"I said Tom Cruise is wooden. He works in action films, but I get sleepy when he plays dramatic roles," one friend complained.
"But the visuals are good. Tom is handsome, Nicole is beautiful. The story could be shorter. 150 minutes is tiring," another offered.
"Forget it, it’s late. I’ll drive you home. We can discuss it tomorrow," Jessie said, leading them to the car.
She opened the window, letting the night air clear the theater’s stuffiness. She overheard others calling the movie boring, confusing, and pretentious.
A new day began. Sunlight came through the glass, casting colors in the air.
Irene opened her eyes and reached for the nightstand, finding a warm glass of water. As she drank, she heard someone reciting poetry. Who was in that mood so early?
After washing and changing, she went downstairs and saw her agent at the table eating breakfast. "Good morning, Shelly. You’re here early?"
"Apologies for arriving unannounced. I wanted to share audience feedback on Legally Blonde as soon as possible."
Shelly finished his sandwich quickly. Beside his plate was an open briefcase; the newspapers inside were now in Francis’s hands.
Before Irene could ask, her father handed her the paper, his expression neutral, giving no indication of good or bad news.