Ethan had been accompanying Jessica Alba for the past two days.
During these two days, the two of them had no intimate interactions; they simply lived together like a married couple. Ethan even prepared breakfast.
"My angel." Ethan rested his head on Jessica's belly, listening intently. Jessica patted his head, "You won't hear anything yet."
Ethan smiled slightly and wrapped his arms around her shoulders. "I'm just too impatient."
"I understand." Jessica leaned on Ethan's shoulder, imagining sweetly, "Just thinking about this little life inside me, slowly growing over the next few months, makes me feel so happy."
"Yeah." Ethan held her, saying, "I'll hire a few nutritionists and housekeepers for you. Don't do housework anymore—focus on taking care of yourself."
"Hey, I'm not some delicate girl. I can handle it." Jessica shook her head at Ethan's overprotectiveness. "I don't need so many people watching over me. I still want to keep working."
"Alright, alright. My angel, but even so, we still need a housekeeper and a nutritionist to help you with things. After all, professionals should handle professional tasks."
"Fine."
"Then it's settled."
Two days later, after arranging everything for Jessica, Ethan rushed off to attend several award ceremonies.
Juno not only achieved impressive box office results but also garnered multiple major awards.
It won Best Motion Picture – Musical or Comedy and Best Actress in a Musical or Comedy at the 11th Satellite Awards, Best Comedy at the 12th Critics' Choice Awards, and Best Feature at the 22nd Independent Spirit Awards, among others.
In total, the film received over twenty nominations and won nine awards, claiming nearly a third of America's major film honors.
This significantly boosted expectations that it could compete at the Oscars.
However, Ethan knew that this year's Oscars were destined to belong to Martin Scorsese's The Departed.
He had to admit that the old man's gangster films were excellent, and despite his age, he remained highly active in Hollywood. Even in his seventies, he hadn't stopped making films.
So, Ethan had no intention of attending the Oscars this year. His focus was on preparing Valkyrie and managing the affairs of the new United Artists.
"Tom Cruise Announces United Artists Takeover, Becoming the New President!"
"Superstar Tom Cruise and His Business Partner Paula Wagner Take Over United Artists!"
"Breaking Ties with His Former Studio, Tom Cruise Becomes His Own Producer!"
"Shocking Deal: The Man Behind Tom Cruise's Move!"
When MGM and Sony announced the results of United Artists' acquisition, the media turned their attention to Tom Cruise.
It was rare for an actor to take control of a film company, especially one as high-profile as Tom Cruise.
Shortly after the news broke, MGM made another announcement:
Their new film Valkyrie had confirmed its director and lead actor—Ethan Li Norton and Tom Cruise.
Additionally, the film would be co-produced by MGM and United Artists, with both companies jointly funding the project.
This unexpected pairing surprised Hollywood fans because Tom Cruise was known for action films, while Ethan specialized in low-budget indie films.
Many media outlets interpreted Tom Cruise's involvement as an attempt to step out of his comfort zone and explore different genres.
In Tom Cruise's shadow, Ethan's presence seemed relatively subdued.
But that was fine by him. He didn't care about empty fame—he cared about tangible benefits.
However, the preparations for Valkyrie were even more challenging than Inception.
One major hurdle was that the film required scenes to be shot at the Bendlerblock, a World War II memorial site in Germany, which meant getting approval from the German government.
But things got complicated—Germany swiftly rejected the request.
The reason? Tom Cruise was a Scientologist, and Germany had officially classified Scientology as an illegal cult.
Despite its seemingly legitimate name, Scientology was widely condemned by the German government as a dangerous and harmful organization.
It was notorious both for its global influence and for the fact that Tom Cruise was one of its most prominent members.
Some tabloids even reported bizarre stories about Scientology allegedly holding "girlfriend selection ceremonies" for Tom Cruise.
While Scientology was not banned in the United States, Germany had no tolerance for it, leading to the rejection of MGM's filming request.
Fortunately, after negotiations and lobbying by the German Film Association, the German government eventually withdrew the ban.
However, some conservative groups still protested against Tom Cruise filming in Germany.
That wasn't the only obstacle. The son of Claus von Stauffenberg, the real-life historical figure whom Cruise was set to portray, publicly stated that Tom Cruise did not have the proper respect or understanding of his father's legacy.
He called Cruise's casting a "terrible and foolish decision."
This statement created a new headache for MGM. Fortunately, in Hollywood, money could solve almost anything.
But MGM and United Artists had to pay a larger sum than initially budgeted.
While the film's production faced hurdles, the Oscars took place as scheduled. Though Ethan didn't attend, Juno received a Best Picture nomination.
This marked the second consecutive time Ethan's films had been nominated.
Many were astonished—after all, even master directors rarely achieved back-to-back Best Picture nominations.
Had Ethan been older and more experienced, he might have actually won the award.
Because of this, his next two films, No Country for Old Men and Inception, became even more highly anticipated.
However, both were still far from release. Inception was still undergoing post-production at Ethan's company, Digital Domain.
Digital Domain had completed layoffs and restructuring, reducing its workforce from 300 to around 100 employees.
The company also refocused its expertise, shifting toward facial motion capture and 3D environment construction.
The transition was painful, but without adaptation, the market would eliminate them.
Meanwhile, No Country for Old Men was participating in the Berlin Film Festival.
One reason Ethan skipped the Oscars was that he was in Berlin, preparing for his film's premiere.
However, before that, the jury and the festival president had already watched all the competing films.
This year's festival president was Dieter Kosslick, and the jury members came from all over the world—Palestine, Germany, America, Mexico, Hong Kong, Mainland China, Denmark, and Nigeria.
For half a month, they had been sitting together, watching and scoring films continuously.
Yet when they saw No Country for Old Men, they were all surprised.
"Does this film have no soundtrack?" asked Nansun Shi, a jury member from Hong Kong, somewhat puzzled when the movie began.
Usually, a film's opening sequence would feature background music to help set the mood for the audience. However, No Country for Old Men defied convention by having no soundtrack at all.
Paul Schrader, the American jury president, sat beside Nansun Shi. He also found the opening intriguing. "Keep watching. Maybe the music will come in later."
Nansun Shi nodded. While she was not widely known in the industry as a producer, her works were highly acclaimed.
Infernal Affairs, Detective Dee and the Four Heavenly Kings, Flying Swords of Dragon Gate, and The Battle at Lake Changjin were all produced by her.
She was, without a doubt, a powerhouse producer in the Chinese film industry.
Paul Schrader, on the other hand, was also a seasoned industry veteran.
He had written the script for Taxi Driver, which won the Palme d'Or at Cannes, and had deep roots in Hollywood, though he was not part of the mainstream commercial scene.
The two continued watching as the screen lit up, revealing a deep blue sky blending with the warm hues of a sunset, while a voiceover echoed in their ears:
"I was twenty-five years old when I became the sheriff of this town."
"Hard to believe, isn't it?"
"My grandfather was a lawman. My father too."
"My father and I were both lawmen at the same time. I think he was proud of that."
"At least I was. The old-time sheriffs, some of them never even carried a gun."
"A lot of folks find that hard to believe."
"But a lot of the old-timers were like that. I loved hearing their stories. Never missed one."
"I always compared myself to them. And I often wondered how they did it."
"A few years back, I sent a boy to Huntsville to the electric chair."
"I arrested him myself, and I testified against him."
"He had killed a fourteen-year-old girl. The newspapers called it a crime of passion, but he told me there was no passion in it."
"He had been planning to kill someone for as long as he could remember. And he said that if he were released, he would do it again."
"He said he knew he was going to hell. I just don't understand why. I really don't."
For a full minute, the screen played nothing but an old man's monologue, yet none of the jury members found it boring in the slightest.
"The opening narration is excellent—very immersive." Paul Schrader made a simple note on his paper. This was his habit when watching films—jotting down his impressions in real time to ensure a fair assessment later.
In fact, most of the jury members did the same, writing down strengths and weaknesses to maintain objectivity.
"Strengths: Engaging narration. Weaknesses: No soundtrack." That was Nansun Shi's initial note.
However, as the plot progressed, this impression quickly faded from her mind.
They soon saw a suspect being taken to the police station.
The officer, confident that nothing would go wrong, reassured his superior.
But in the next moment, the suspect strangled him with his own handcuffs, dragging him across the floor and ruthlessly choking him to death.
The officer's leather shoes scraped against the floor, leaving dark streaks—haphazard and wild, like overgrown weeds.
It was at this moment that the jury members finally got a clear look at the suspect—a peculiar-looking man with a bowl haircut, Anton.
After killing the officer, Anton retrieved his weapon and drove off in a stolen police car.
On the road, he flagged down an unsuspecting, kind-looking middle-aged man.
Then, with an eerie, devilish grin, he raised his captive bolt pistol and shot the man without hesitation.
A chill ran down Nansun Shi's spine.
She crossed out her previous note and rewrote it: "Strengths: Clean and efficient storytelling. Just a few scenes firmly establish the killer's character. Weaknesses: None."
After Anton's chilling introduction, the film's protagonist, Moss, was soon introduced.
Driven by greed, he took a briefcase full of cash left behind after a cartel shootout. But a moment of compassion led him back to the scene, trying to give water to a dying man.
Unfortunately, reinforcements had arrived, leading to a gunfight and a desperate chase. Moss was wounded but managed to escape by jumping into a river.
Meanwhile, the psychopathic Anton was in a small convenience store, seemingly deciding the fate of the store owner.
"How much is all this?" Anton placed his items on the counter.
The store owner glanced at them. "That'll be sixty-nine cents."
"And the gas?" Anton added.
"Hmm, did it rain where you were coming from?" The store owner casually asked.
But this simple question made Anton's expression turn cold. "Where do you think I was coming from?"
"I figured you were coming from Dallas."
"Where I come from is none of your business."
The store owner was taken aback. He hadn't expected this customer to be so easily angered.
"Hey, I didn't mean anything by it," he said cautiously.
"You didn't mean anything by it…"
"You were just passing the time. But if I don't like it, there's nothing I can do about it. Do you need anything else?"
Anton, however, was not letting it go. He continued to stare at him.
"Alright then, I think I'll close up now."
"Close up?" Anton glanced out the window. "What time do you close?"
"Now. I'm closing now."
"What time is it?"
"I close around nightfall."
Anton stopped chewing and shook his head. "Are you just making things up?"
"Do you live in that house out back?"
"Yes, that's right." The store owner felt increasingly uneasy. He had no idea why this man was asking such strange questions.
"Do you know what's the most money a coin toss has ever lost?" Anton placed a coin on the counter.
"I don't know. I couldn't say."
Anton flicked the coin into the air and let it land on the counter. "Call it."
"Why?"
"Just call it."
"I want to know why I have to call it."
"You have to. And I can't do it for you. That wouldn't be fair." Anton then stated his twisted philosophy: "Your whole life has been leading to this moment, but you just didn't realize it. Call it."
"What do I win?"
"Everything."
"What?"
"If you call it right, you win everything." Anton didn't elaborate further, but his meaning was clear.
"Alright… heads." The store owner had no choice but to make a guess.
Anton lifted his fingers—it was heads.
Both Nansun Shi and Paul Schrader tensed up.
They knew this was the moment that would decide the store owner's fate.
But Anton kept his word and didn't kill him. Instead, he simply said, "Don't put this coin in your pocket. If it gets mixed with the others, it won't be lucky anymore."
Then, he turned and left.
Yet the jury members had already grasped the depths of Anton's twisted psyche.
"Brilliant dialogue."
Paul Schrader eagerly jotted it down in his notes. He was beginning to suspect that the true protagonist of this film was not Moss—
But the psychopathic killer, Anton.