My teacher is Bruce Lee, who dominated Hollywood.

Chapter 185 Breaking News

Leaving the tropical islands of the Pacific Ocean, with no time to rest, Qin Han and Coppola rushed to Paramount.

Frank Albrans's gaze swept back and forth between the two people in front of him, and a suffocating silence filled the air.

"Qin, I greatly admire Han's Film Studio's dynamism and am extremely eager to invest in the script for 'Chinatown.'" He leaned forward, resting his hands on the table, his gaze fixed on the bearded director. "But you want Francis to direct this film? Absolutely not."

Frank suppressed the rising anger in his chest: "Francis, the entire Paramount board is watching the progress of *The Godfather Part II*! The crew is on standby, and the entire American media is waiting for our launch press conference. And you're sitting here telling me you're going to make another movie?"

Coppola sank into the soft sofa. If this had happened before the trip to Tahiti, he would most likely have felt somewhat guilty when faced with Frank's questioning.

But at this moment, he even had the leisure to take out a cigar from his pocket and slowly strike a match.

"Frank, I also want to move forward with the Corleone family story as soon as possible; after all, it's my life's work." He exhaled a thick cloud of white smoke, his eyes unwavering. "But the problem is, our 'Godfather' is on strike now."

"What did you say?" Frank's pupils contracted sharply.

"Marlon Brando." Coppola spread his hands, making an extremely helpless gesture. "I just flew back from his private island."

"He told me explicitly that he was in a state of extreme depression recently and was completely unable to enter Vito Corleone's psychological world."

He has refused to participate in any filming schedule related to "The Godfather Part II" this year, and will not set foot on the set.

These words struck Frank like a hammer blow.

"Ridiculous! Is he joking about the contract?!" Frank jumped to his feet, grabbing the black telephone receiver from the table. "Get me Malone's agent!"

Qin Han sat on the single sofa next to him, his legs crossed. He didn't stop him, but simply picked up the coffee in front of him, which had gone cold, and took a small sip.

Frank roared into the phone for a full five minutes, his face gradually turning from anger to ashen, and finally to a deep sense of powerlessness.

The telephone receiver was slammed back onto the landline.

The office fell silent again. Frank leaned on his desk, panting heavily, as if he had just gone through an extremely exhausting battle.

Marlon Brando truly unilaterally cut off all work-related contact, leaving behind the explanation that he was "depressed and needed to rest."

In all of Hollywood, perhaps only Marlon Brando had the confidence to challenge the studios.

Sue him? That would only make Paramount a laughing stock across America and completely lose this box office powerhouse.

"After all, that's Malone—" Frank slumped back into his boss's chair, irritably loosening his tie. "Since he doesn't want to move, we—we can't do anything about it."

Without Marlon Brando, the massive project "The Godfather Part II" was forced to be suspended indefinitely.

With a large amount of budget tied up in the books, Paramount's financial statements for next year will face a terrible vacuum.

Qin Han put down his coffee cup and broke the silence: "Frank, the delay of The Godfather Part II is certainly regrettable, but it also gives Francis a great opportunity to adjust his state."

"Instead of letting a top director waste his time, let him use this downtime to create another dark epic for Paramount that could sweep the Oscars."

Qin Han pushed the script for "Chinatown" forward a bit: "Paramount is funding it, Han's Pictures is producing it, and Francis is directing it. This will not only fill the gap in Paramount's major projects next year, but also let Wall Street see your ability to continuously produce masterpieces."

Frank looked at the script on the table, and the gloom in his eyes gradually dissipated.

He was well aware of the value of this script. Since "The Godfather Part II" was destined to be unable to start filming on time, using "Chinatown" to save the day was absolutely the most perfect solution at present, and it might even be a windfall with amazing profits.

"Alright." Frank's dejected expression vanished. "I have high hopes for the script for 'Chinatown.' Francis, do your best in directing it. I hope Paramount and Hans Brothers' first collaboration will go smoothly."

Their two hands clasped tightly together.

Half an hour later, Coppola walked out of Paramount's doors with a radiant smile after signing the co-production agreement.

The California sun outside was dazzling, but his mood was a hundred times brighter than that.

"Qin, you're a magician!" He excitedly pounded on the car door. "When Frank was signing the final papers, he actually thanked us for helping him fill the project gap!"

"God, I feel so energized! Quick, let's go back and finalize the characters; I can't wait to build that retro Los Angeles street scene!"

The two drove back to the headquarters of Hans Film Company in Sunset Tower.

In the spacious and bright conference room on the top floor, Michael Ovitz had already prepared paper, pens, and piles of actor rosters.

"Now that the director has been chosen, we need to find the most perfect actors for this film." In Qin Han's memory, the creative team of the previous film "Chinatown" was a masterpiece in film history.

The original director, Roman Polanski, is a complex genius deeply mired in darkness. He poured all the grief and despair of his wife Sharon Tate being brutally murdered by the Manson Family into this film, giving it a suffocatingly pessimistic undertone.

However, Qin Han believes that Coppola is currently at the absolute peak of his career.

Carrying the grand momentum of "The Godfather," Coppola surpasses Poland in his mastery of grand narratives and classical tragic aesthetics.

Skibbe was even more profound.

He could turn the history of corruption in Los Angeles into a true epic of American power.

The director has been upgraded, but Qin Han doesn't plan to make any changes to the cast.

The chemistry between the original cast and crew is already the limit that the film industry can achieve.

"Private investigator Jack Gittis." He turned to look at the whiteboard. "We need someone who looks cynical..."

A man with a roguish air, yet deep down he still harbors a yearning for justice.

"He can't be too handsome; he needs to have a kind of charisma that comes from being badly beaten by life but still daring to grin and sneer."

"Jack Nicholson."

Coppola's eyes lit up instantly, and he snapped his fingers: "A brilliant choice! That guy has a natural rebelliousness and neuroticism. Just standing there with a cigarette in his mouth, you'd believe he's a bastard who can navigate both the underworld and the legitimate world in Los Angeles with ease!"

"The female lead, Evelyn Morley." Qin Han continued piecing together the images from his memory. "She is an extremely complex woman. Born into a prestigious family, she is noble and elegant, but deep in her eyes lies a fragile vulnerability and neuroticism on the verge of collapse, because she carries an incestuous secret that could destroy a life."

Faye Dunaway.

"Absolutely agree!" Coppola paced excitedly across the conference table. "Her performance in 'Bonnie and Clyde' proves it!"

This demonstrates her mastery over this type of female character with destructive tendencies.

"Finally, there's our main villain, Noah Cross. This character is the embodiment of corruption in Los Angeles. He doesn't need to be monstrous; he has to be like a benevolent old-fashioned aristocrat, exuding nobility in every gesture. He not only raped the land's water resources but also his own daughter."

Qin Han looked at Coppola and threw out his final trump card: "I want John Houston."

The meeting room fell silent for a moment, and Michael Ovitz's hand, holding the pen, froze in mid-air.

John Houston, a living legend in Hollywood, was the director of films such as "The Maltese Falcon" and "The Sands of the Martian."

Why would you cast such a legendary figure as a heinous and monstrous villain?

"A brilliant idea—" Coppola muttered to himself, then burst into maniacal laughter: "Let that old man Houston play Cross! He doesn't need to act out that inherent arrogance and oppressive old-fashioned power! He just needs to stand in front of the camera, and he'll be the king of all of Los Angeles!"

Qin Han straightened up and said to Michael, "This is our dream team. Michael, use your intuition to tell them that Paramount is fully funding, Coppola is directing, and Han's Pictures is backing them up. I'm giving you forty-eight hours to put the letters of intent for these three people on my desk."

"Understood, boss..." Michael immediately grabbed the roster and rushed to the phone booth.

The terrifying war machine that is about to crush next year's awards season, "Chinatown," has officially started its engine.

The next morning, sunlight pierced through the thin mist, gilding the "Black Tower" building of Universal Pictures with a golden edge.

Qin Han and Bruce Lee walked side by side into the luxurious office of Sidney Sinberg, president of Universal Pictures.

The success of "Enter the Dragon" made Universal a fortune, and Sidney now feels an even stronger connection to the mentor and apprentice than to his own parents.

"Qin! Bruce! Please have a seat!" He personally poured two cups of coffee and handed them over, his face beaming. "The location and budget for 'Game of Death' are all in place. The props team worked overnight to build the internal structure of that five-story wooden tower. When can we start filming? Universal is really looking forward to Han's next action blockbuster."

"We can start filming anytime, Sidney." Qin Han didn't take the wine glass, but calmly looked at the president. "We've also secured the most important actor."

"Fantastic! Who is it? Which master from which school of martial arts did they bring in from Asia? Or did they persuade a world karate champion?" Sidney speculated with great interest.

Bruce Lee shook his head slightly, his eyes gleaming with the fervent anticipation of a martial artist for a showdown of the best: "No, he's not a traditional martial artist. He's Karim Abdul-Jabbar."

"Who? Say it again? The one who plays basketball? The Bucks' skyhook, Kareem Abdul-Jabbar?" Sidney felt his brain was a little slow to process what was happening.

"That's right." Qin Han nodded affirmatively.

Sidney glanced at the well-built Bruce Lee, who was just over 1.7 meters tall, and then frantically compared him in his mind to the NBA super center who was a full 2.18 meters tall, like a black iron tower.

This height and size difference, when placed on the big screen, is like a cheetah trying to challenge an adult African elephant!

"You're insane—you're all absolutely insane!" He paced incoherently around the office. "Do you think the audience will believe Bruce can beat a giant who's almost half a meter taller than him? It's defying all logic!"

"The essence of martial arts is to break the rules of common sense." Bruce Lee stood up from the sofa, exuding a convincing aura of a master: "A huge physical advantage can indeed bring a terrifying sense of oppression, but that is precisely the philosophy I want to explore at the very top of 'Game of Death'."

"When Jeet Kune Do's agility, speed, and inch-force face absolute power, how can it penetrate and disintegrate it like water?"

This will be a visual spectacle never before seen in action film history.

Sidney's producer's intuition told him that this extremely exaggerated contrast, once filmed, would definitely become a memorable scene that Hollywood action movies would find hard to surpass.

"So we need to hurry, Sidney." Qin Han tapped the table, interrupting his thoughts. "Jabbar is a current NBA superstar."

"This means we have to take advantage of the current NBA summer offseason to finish filming all his scenes as soon as possible. Once training camp for the new season starts in October, he will have to return to the team."

With time running out, Sidney immediately realized the seriousness of the situation and grabbed the internal telephone line on the table.

"Get me the production manager! Clear out Studios 7 and 8 immediately! All cinematographers, lighting technicians, and action directors, cancel your vacations and report to the 'Game of Death' crew immediately! We need to get all the core scenes filmed within two months!"

Sidney shouted orders into the phone, and the entire global industrial machine began to operate at high speed under his command.

Qin Han and Bruce Lee exchanged a glance; everything was proceeding perfectly according to plan.

Just as Sidney hung up the phone with the production department and was about to confirm the details of the shooting schedule with Qin Han, the screen of the color television in the corner of the office, which had been playing news footage, suddenly flickered.

The footage that was broadcasting local news was forcibly cut off and replaced with CBS News’ signature red breaking news banner, BREAKING NEWS.

In the footage, renowned news anchor Walter Cronkite appears unusually grave: "Fellow Americans, we have just received confirmation from Washington. A few minutes ago, Richard Nixon, the 37th President of the United States, delivered a televised address from the Oval Office in the White House."

The television screen switched to show Nixon's haggard, aged face.

"Faced with inevitable impeachment proceedings by Congress due to the Watergate scandal, President Nixon has formally announced his resignation as President of the United States of America. The resignation will officially take effect at noon tomorrow."

"This is the first president in American history to resign voluntarily during his term."

Clang!

Sidney dropped the microphone from his hand, his eyes wide open, staring intently at the television screen.

Qin Han simply stood quietly in front of the floor-to-ceiling window: Nixon had fallen from power, almost a year earlier than originally planned.

The president, whom he used to extend his life by exploiting the Oscar hijacking incident and to purge the "Japanese clique" within the Pentagon, has finally reached the end of his historical career.

This also means that Washington's political power is about to undergo a more bloody reshuffling.

More importantly, with the collapse of faith brought about by the president's resignation, the entire American society will be plunged into an unprecedented dark moment.