1978 Synthetic Writers

Chapter 624 Handsome as John Lone

To be honest, it's hard for William to catch the eye of most handsome men.

To put it bluntly, their Playboy photos are essentially selling male nudity.

In addition to professional models, Playboy magazine has a special section called "Real Men," which features amateur models and holds an annual "Best Real Man" contest where readers can vote for the best.

Of course, these men weren't just random people picked up from the street; they were actors the editors found in Hollywood.

The price paid to these models is also astronomical.

A single shoot costs over $2500!

Note that these are prices from the late 70s.

In addition, each month's Playboy magazine features a different male model with a theme. In the December or January issue, there is usually a nude men's calendar that displays photos of nude men from the previous year, allowing readers to choose the "Man of the Year" from the pictures in the calendar.

Therefore, William has a very discerning eye.

Moreover, Playboy has been running for so many years, and we've seen all kinds of handsome men.

To achieve a breakthrough in the quality of the magazine, the editors and reporters of Playboy must have a discerning eye.

In short, ordinary handsome American men, even Hollywood actors, are no longer enough to catch William's eye.

How rare is it?
Regardless of whether they're black or white, these Hollywood male actors have done too many Playboy movies!

At this moment, the Hilton Hotel's banquet hall has been transformed into a flowing, golden dream.

The enormous crystal chandelier cast countless spots of light onto the champagne tower and the ladies' jewelry, while the air was filled with the rich aroma of expensive perfumes and cigar tobacco, a unique scent characteristic of the elite world of high society.

The place was bustling with noise, like a pot of rich, bubbling soup.

And mixed in with them are all well-known figures in Hollywood.

For example, Michael Douglas, wearing a silver-gray suit, is a famous Hollywood star's son, the son of the famous American actor Kirk Douglas. He has played countless roles. You've all seen "Ant-Man," right? He played the first Ant-Man, Dr. Hank Pym.

He played the lead role in the 20th Century Fox drama "Wall Street," earning him a Golden Globe nomination for Best Actor in a Drama.

Well, another difference between the Golden Globes and the Oscars is that the Golden Globes also include television awards, making it a combination of film and television awards.

In addition, there is Robin Williams, the famous comedian and star of "Night at the Museum".

William Hurt was also there; those who frequently watch "The Avengers" should recognize him. He played Thaddeus Ross, the American politician who controlled the Avengers in the movie, also known as General Ross the Red Giant in the comics. However, the actor passed away before the plot progressed further.

Nicolas Cage, the actor who played Birdman, later voiced Spider-Man Noir in Spider-Man: Beyond the Universe.

One who absolutely must be mentioned is Jack Nicholson.
You may not know his name, but you will definitely recognize his face.

He was the husband who broke down the door in "The Shining".
He is also the male lead in "One Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest".

He's still the billionaire from "The Bucket List".

This is the best of the best.

In short, as long as you look out, you'll see a sea of ​​well-known celebrities; if you turn around and throw something down, you could crush several Oscar-winning actors and actresses. The entire banquet hall is a dazzling array of stars.

William, holding a wine glass, moved through the "jungle" like a slippery fish.

He wasn't particularly interested in Nicolas Cage, Jack Nicholson, or even Michael J. Fox, who rose to fame with "Back to the Future."

His gaze kept shifting.

Glancing to the left, Gina Rowlands, who had just won Best Actress in a Miniseries, was clutching her trophy tightly, her voice trembling slightly with excitement:
"This is incredible! I have to thank my dog, Muffin, really, without him lying at my feet while I read the script, I couldn't possibly understand the soul of this character."

Her eyes welled up with tears, proving the mascara's waterproof properties had held up well.

Not far away, Rutger Hauer, who won Best Supporting Actor for "Escape from Sobibor," was patting a bald producer on the shoulder, his voice booming: "Listen, old man, the sequel script has to set the final car chase scene in Dubai! I've got it all figured out, the camera pans across the Burj Al Arab, this is absolutely unprecedented!"

To William's right, several rivals vying for the same Best Actress in a Drama award are currently engaged in a Hollywood-style heartwarming scene.

One, with his signature, slightly neurotic smile, embraced the other:
“Darling, every subtle expression in your performance breaks my heart. You truly deserve everything.”

The other returned the same sincere, tearful blue eyes:

"Oh, don't say that. Your character is the one who truly touched my soul."

The two embraced as tightly as sisters, but in reality, the moment they parted, their eyes quickly scanned each other's eyes to see if there were any fine lines.

There's also Beatrice Arthur, a comedian known for her outspoken personality, openly commenting on a singer in a sparkly long dress not far away:
"God, was her dress made from a Christmas tree light strip?"

"I bet if she plugged it in, the entire Los Angeles power grid would short-circuit."

"."

William shook his head.

He was tired of it.

Tired of female celebrities' monotonous diamond necklaces and meticulously calculated smiles.

Tired of the producer's inflated boasting.

Tired of everything in this gilded cage.

Until he suddenly noticed the man.

Amidst a room full of blond-haired, blue-eyed men in dark suits, he stood like a serene moonlight, leaning against the floor-to-ceiling window.

Wearing a perfectly tailored dark velvet suit, without a tie, the neckline casually open, revealing a small patch of collarbone.

He held a champagne glass in his hand, his fingers long and slender with distinct knuckles.

The flood of spotlights seemed to deliberately avoid that corner, leaving him alone in a soft, dim light, as if he were surrounded by a protective barrier.

"Gift crab!"

William instinctively straightened his back, his professional scanning instantly activated:

There were no extravagant accessories, no fawning smiles, and not even a desire to converse with any powerful figures in Hollywood.

He simply stood there, like a sculpture that had been accidentally moved to the center of the hustle and bustle, serene yet carrying an undeniable weight.

That face... William quickly searched his mind for all the movie stars' names, but found no match.

That wasn't the kind of aggressive, Western-style handsomeness.

His brow bone and nose bridge formed a subtle yet sharp undulation in the Eastern style, and his skin gleamed with a warm, ivory-like luster in the dim light.

The most lethal thing was his eyes, black like two deep winter pools, calm and still on the surface, yet seemingly able to absorb all the noise and light directed at him.

Occasionally, when an award recipient's acceptance speech touched him, a very faint, fleeting smile would appear at the corner of his mouth, like a pebble thrown into two deep pools, disappearing before the ripples could spread. William felt a long-lost emotion called "curiosity" stirring in his veins.

He immediately grabbed a familiar PR person, "Who is that?"

"Who?"

The PR person looked at her strangely. "You mean him? That's Jiang Xian, the screenwriter of 'The Last Emperor,' a writer who is also very famous in the United States. He's the one who wrote 'Drifters,' 'The Hunger Games,' and 'War Horse.'"

"He's not an actor?"

William found it very strange.

From then on, William's gaze never truly left Jiang Xian.

Watching him politely listen to the others' eloquent discussions, the curve of his nod was just right, making him seem as detached as an outsider observing human society.

He watched as he politely declined a wine glass offered by a female celebrity who was clearly interested in him, his demeanor elegant yet undeniably assertive.

On several occasions, William even caught a glimpse of Jiang Xian slightly tilting his head when no one was watching, looking out the window at the dazzling yet artificial night sky of Los Angeles, a fleeting, almost weary, look in his eyes.

It was as if he didn't belong in this place.

To William's surprise, not far from Jiang Xian, there was another face with equally deep features.

The combination of two Eastern faces created a unique beauty. The extreme noise and their extreme tranquility together formed a dramatic and captivating scene that fascinated William.

This is so interesting.

"I have to take a picture, I have to take a picture." William found the right angle and took a photo that he was satisfied with.

Jiang Xian, of course, did not notice the flash of light in the corner.

Today's Golden Globe Awards ceremony was completely illuminated. Zhu Lin, standing next to him, had specially changed into a white cheongsam that perfectly suited the beauty of the East. The pure white satin fabric was like moonlight pouring down, and the silver threads and patterns shimmered like the Milky Way under the spotlight. The high slit design revealed glimpses of her legs, perfectly showcasing the understated sexiness of the East.

The collar is adorned with pearl buttons, and the jade earrings hanging from the ears echo the jade belt hook at the waist, exuding both the solemnity of traditional dress and the neatness of modern tailoring.

With each change of pose, her slender figure is outlined by the smooth curves of the cheongsam, like a walking ink painting, forming a stark contrast with the Western actresses around her.

As she walks, the hand-embroidered lotus pattern on the hem of her skirt sways gently with each step, as if enveloping the misty rain of Jiangnan with the starlight of Hollywood, attracting countless eyes and truly becoming a "living textbook of Eastern aesthetics".

"I wonder if there will be an opportunity for us actors at today's Golden Globes," Bertolucci said.

John Lone and Zhu Lin have both received nominations for Best Actor and Best Actress in a Drama Film, respectively, and both have a chance to compete for the final award.

This offered some consolation to the actors of "The Last Emperor".

It's worth noting that of the nine Academy Award nominations received for "The Last Emperor," not a single award went to an actor.

This is a must, everyone knows it, but no one would complain about having too many awards. If they could win the Golden Globe, it would be some consolation.

Well, after all, the Golden Globe Awards aren't some low-level award. You can tell from the star-studded gala dinner that this award is quite prestigious.

"Mr. Jiang Xian?"

Just as everyone was anxiously waiting for the results to be announced, a white man wearing a tie came over with a wine glass and greeted Jiang Xian.

John McLean.

Before Jiang Xian could even ask, the other person proactively introduced himself as "the head of the Western Screenwriters Association."

“The Western Writers Guild.” Jiang Xian glanced at McLean, already knowing the other party’s purpose, and thought to himself that these Americans were quite well-informed.

Like the NBA, the Writers Guild of America is divided into Eastern and Western divisions, which together represent all television, film, and radio writers in the United States.

The man in front of me, McLean, belongs to the West.

“I heard about Samuel Jr. wanting you to write a script.” McKlain took a sip of his drink. “He really has some nerve, asking a complete stranger to write the script. Did you agree?”

"."

Jiang Xian smiled at him, "To be honest, I'm still considering it."

Please, don't agree.

McKlain winked at him. "You also have projects in the US, and you'll have to talk to producers about collaborations sooner or later. We're on the same side, so why should we help him?"

"Hey, hey, hey?"

Jiang Xian was unhappy.

What nonsense are you spouting?
Who's on your side?
I have a red heart!
"I didn't expect you to pay so much attention to such a small matter," Jiang Xuan changed the subject.

"Little things?"

McLean shook his head. "This is no small matter. Disrupting the Oscars is a deterrent for us, and that's important. Don't underestimate our determination to flop."

"You guys really have a revolutionary spirit," Jiang Xian couldn't help but praise.

“Anyway, we can be friends,” McKlain said. “You have no reason to help little Samuel with anything; he can’t offer you anything.”

"You're wrong about that."

Jiang Xian was displeased. "Little Samuel is my dearest friend and brother. It would be very difficult for me not to help him."

"???"

McLean looked at Jiang Xian with some confusion, only to meet his gaze that seemed to demand more money.

That's what Jiang Xian thought.

Now that he's been dragged into this mess, he has to accept some benefits. There's an old Chinese saying, "to be successful in all directions."

As they were talking, it was time to announce the winners of the Best Actor and Best Actress awards in the Drama category.

The host first announced John Lone's name, causing an uproar in the audience, with all eyes turning to him.

This face is not widely known in Hollywood.

So when John Lone was seen, many people were surprised that this year's Golden Globe Award was given to a "foreigner".

After John Lone's award was presented, the host went on stage to interact with him for a few minutes before announcing the winner of Best Actress.

"Distinguished guests, tonight, the honor of Best Actress in a Drama Series belongs to a beautiful woman who, with her extraordinary acting skills, brings back to life a touch of elegance and sorrow from the depths of history."

"Now, let us unveil this glorious moment together—please welcome the presenter to the stage to present the well-deserved award to the actress who won the Best Actress in a Drama Series."

"Congratulations, Ms. Zhu Lin."

(End of this chapter)