Downey pulled himself away from a group of strippers and made his way over to Kevin, who was sitting alone in a corner booth.
“Kevin, what’s wrong?
Not a fan of this kind of place?”
As an actor, Downey naturally had a keen eye for reading expressions.
Kevin’s deeply furrowed brow made it painfully obvious that he wasn’t enjoying himself.
Kevin shook his head, offering a faint smile.
“I actually came looking for you because I wanted to tell you something.
My first movie is about to be released.”
“That fast?” Downey was genuinely stunned.
He knew Kevin—whom he viewed as a younger brother—was exceptionally talented, but to secure an investment and shoot an entire feature film before even graduating?
That was practically unheard of.
He had originally planned to introduce Kevin to his father after graduation.
He figured his old man could evaluate the kid and then pull some strings to land him an assistant director gig.
But he never expected this!
However, he wasn’t exactly optimistic about the chances of Kevin’s first movie being a massive success.
Then again, it didn’t really matter.
His father was a highly respected figure in the industry—an Academy Award winner for Best Original Screenplay at the 47th Oscars, who had also contributed to cinematic classics like The Godfather and Mission: Impossible.
Even if Kevin’s debut film bombed, Downey could just ask his father to secure Kevin another one or two opportunities.
T/N: The original author has confused Robert Downey Sr.
(an underground indie filmmaker) with Robert Towne (the legendary screenwriter who won the 47th Oscar for Chinatown and consulted on The Godfather).
Chinese authors frequently mix up Hollywood names that sound similar (Downey/Towne).
I have kept the translation faithful to the author’s narrative universe—just think of it as a parallel universe!
“It’s true, Downey.
And I’m going to make you a massive star,” Kevin said with a confident smile.
“Is that right?
Well then, I’ll be waiting,” Downey chuckled.
“But first, you have to promise me one thing.” Kevin’s smile faded, his expression turning dead serious.
Downey looked at him in confusion.
“Stop touching those addictive substances.”
Hearing this, Downey’s face froze for a split second.
He let out an awkward chuckle, immediately trying to change the subject.
“What are you talking about?
Come on, Kevin, let me introduce you to some of these gorgeous girls.”
Kevin could only sigh internally.
Ever since Robert was just a child—given his first taste by his own father at the tender age of seven—he hadn’t been able to escape its grip.
Knowing he couldn’t persuade him with a few simple words, Kevin dropped the subject.
Downey would only truly consider getting clean once he hit absolute rock bottom.
Until then, the only thing Kevin could do was ensure his friend had a solid opportunity to turn his life around when that day finally came.
Following Downey’s lead, Kevin finally let his guard down and began to relax, mingling with the crowd of lightly dressed women.
Kevin’s unique blend of youthful charm and mature demeanor already made him incredibly attractive to these girls.
However, it was Downey’s next announcement that drove them absolutely wild.
“Ladies, my brother Kevin here is a genius director!
His very first feature film is about to hit theaters.
You all know what that means, right?”
“Wow!” the girls exclaimed, their eyes immediately lighting up with raw ambition.
In Hollywood, directors held the keys to the kingdom( keys to the kingdom?).
A successful director had the power to launch one major star after another.
Who in this bar didn’t dream of living a glamorous life under the spotlight?
…
The next day, Kevin woke up in a massive luxury suite.
Extricating himself from the tangle of limbs beside him, he couldn’t help but feel a sudden wave of self-deprecation.
He had surrendered to decadence far too quickly.
“I can’t even blame myself.
The corrupting power of capitalism is just too strong.
To think a fine, upstanding young man like me could degenerate to this level,” Kevin murmured shamelessly to himself.
Without a shred of lingering attachment, he got dressed and headed back to the hotel he had originally checked into.
After all, he still had a certain beautiful woman waiting for him there.
Following two or three days of this “exhausting” schedule, Kevin—looking thoroughly refreshed after waking up in yet another gentle embrace—arrived at the New Line Cinema headquarters.
Robert Shaye, despite his lofty status as the studio’s owner and president, was personally standing at the entrance to greet the print media representatives and prominent film critics.
Ultimately, in Hollywood, money was king.
Lowering his ego to play nice with the media and critics cost him nothing.
On the contrary, if these people published glowing reviews, it would have a massive, tangible impact on the box office.
However, the golden age of these traditional critics is strictly limited to this era, Kevin thought silently, maintaining a perfectly polite, fake smile as he walked inside.
With the impending dawn of the internet age, these people would sooner or later be swept into the dustbin of history.
To put it bluntly, the ultimate judge of a movie’s quality would soon be the general audience.
Once everyone had a voice online, what would a few pompous film critics be worth?
Of course, that was a problem for the future.
For now, at least, the influence of these print critics remained absolute.
Perhaps Shaye had done enough “work” behind the scenes, because every single critic present was remarkably friendly, completely devoid of the sharp-tongued arrogance they usually flaunted in their newspaper columns. This story is hosted at novelping(.)com.
Shaye, for his part, looked completely calm.
He had collectively bribed the twenty-odd film critics with over $300,000, and combined with the print media, this single public relations push had cost him a cool half-million dollars.
Even throwing half a million dollars into a lake would make a massive splash, let alone handing it to a room full of critics whose opinions could literally be bought.
Favorable results were absolutely guaranteed.
Today’s preview screening was, at its core, nothing more than a formality.
After watching the film, these critics would dutifully praise Saw from their various unique perspectives, effectively tricking the first massive wave of audiences into buying theater tickets.
After that, based on New Line’s internal quality assessments, genuine word-of-mouth would take over and spread naturally.
Shaye couldn’t predict exactly how high the box office would explode, but even after deducting all the production and marketing investments, New Line Cinema was practically guaranteed to walk away with a massive profit.
…
Slowly but surely, the theater filled up.
After all, no one was about to intentionally pass up an easy paycheck.
Inside the spacious screening room on the fifth floor, over twenty film critics and more than a dozen print media personnel took their seats.
Roger Ebert sat among them.
As one of the most famous and respected film critics in the country, studios generally avoided inviting him to preview screenings if they knew their movie was garbage.
Of course, they still sent him his PR “consultation fee” anyway—just to prevent him from casually writing a scathing takedown out of boredom.
The world was just that transactional.
Once a person’s status reached a certain peak, corporations were more than willing to pay a premium just to keep them quiet.
Ebert smiled slightly.
Regardless of how much the studio paid him or what they wanted him to think, he was only going to speak his own mind.
This was his unwavering principle.
If a studio dared to invite him to a screening and the film turned out to be an eye-insulting piece of trash, they would simply have to endure his merciless negative reviews.
If they couldn’t handle that, they shouldn’t have invited him in the first place.
Conversely, if the movie truly impressed him, Ebert certainly didn’t mind leveraging his reputation to give it some incredible, genuine publicity.
The cinema lights suddenly dimmed, leaving only a few wall sconces emitting a faint, warm yellow glow.
On the large screen, the New Line Cinema logo appeared, followed by the opening credits of the director, actors, and crew scrolling by.
The next moment, the screen flashed.
The movie officially began.
Kevin sat in the back, silently observing the facial reactions of the critics and media personnel as the plot unfolded.
Scorn, mockery, shock, and admiration—a full spectrum of expressions was on display.
Clearly, Saw wasn’t going to satisfy every single pretentious palate in the room.
But looking closely, Kevin could see one undeniable truth binding them all together:
Every single one of them was desperate to know who Jigsaw really was.