Hearing the words of the middle-aged man, Leonardo DiCaprio felt an intense pain in his heart, as if something was tearing at it, and in the next moment, it might split in two. One part of his rational mind told him that the manager was absolutely correct, and this was the best way to handle the situation. However, his greedy side tugged at him, whispering that there was no need to return the money, that nothing significant would happen if he didn't.
And then there was the question: should he really go to the bank to get a loan to return this money?
The $25 million profit from "The Great Gatsby" was relatively easy; most of it was still in his account. But the over $10 million from the charitable foundation had mostly been squandered.
He had invested much of his own money, converting it into fixed assets, while most of his daily expenses were billed to various charitable foundations. Essentially, the donations covered his lavish lifestyle, recorded as management expenses for the foundation.
Why was he so enthusiastic about charity? Partly to enhance his reputation and status, but also to maintain a luxurious lifestyle without spending too much of his own money.
Spending the money was one thing, but having to give it back was another.
The middle-aged man said nothing further. He knew that Jho Low had generously withdrawn millions of dollars for DiCaprio and others to gamble in casinos, and that 1MDB had donated millions to DiCaprio's foundation, even gifting expensive champagne, artworks, and other valuable items.
While there might not be legal issues, it was impossible to distance themselves from each other in the eyes of public opinion.
DiCaprio was smart. Though giving up such a huge sum would make him sleepless with anxiety, he would ultimately make the wise choice.
The room was silent, with no interruptions. DiCaprio stood there, eyes closed in thought for a long time, before slowly opening them.
"Alright..."
The words came out with extreme difficulty, as if he might pass out any moment. "Let's do it your way."
The middle-aged man nodded, took out his phone, and began making calls. DiCaprio's team sprang into action immediately.
That afternoon, DiCaprio posted on social media, announcing his cooperation with the FBI and DOJ's investigation into 1MDB and Red Granite Pictures' alleged money laundering. He stated that he would donate the $25 million in earnings from "The Great Gatsby" to a UN organization for child protection, and would return any gifts and donations received from 1MDB if confirmed.
The next day, a manager from DiCaprio's charitable foundation officially responded: "In early January, Mr. DiCaprio first learned about this through news reports about the government investigation into the producer of 'The Great Gatsby.' He immediately contacted the FBI and DOJ through his agents to verify if he or his foundation had received any gifts or donations from the individuals involved. If so, he would return them promptly. We fully support the work of the FBI and DOJ."
Though some lawyers pointed out that if DiCaprio had prior knowledge of the dubious origins of the investment in "The Great Gatsby," or should have known, he could face legal issues, it would require evidence of his prior knowledge.
"Leo isn't stupid..."
In the office at the Venice warehouse studio, Murphy told James Franco, "He wouldn't personally get involved in such things. He's not as foolish as Mike Tyson."
"He's a smart guy," Franco agreed, not underestimating someone of DiCaprio's stature. "And he has a smart team behind him."
Murphy nodded. "Coughing up $40 million, DiCaprio will probably be more subdued this awards season."
Recently, negative news about "The Dark City" and Franco had noticeably decreased. DiCaprio's PR team was likely busy putting out fires, with little time or energy left to attack others.
This was one of Murphy and Bill Rossi's objectives.
"$40 million..."
Robert Downey Jr., who had been quiet, finally spoke. "DiCaprio must be fuming."
He looked at Murphy. "Did Gadot really come up with this?"
"Yes," Murphy confirmed directly. "Genuine."
Downey shook his head. "She's learned from you."
Murphy smiled, changing the topic. "How are your preparations? Filming starts next week."
"No problem at all," Downey boasted. "Murphy, you'll see, I'm still the best actor among us!"
Franco flipped him the bird. "I'm sure you'll turn Robbie Robinson into Tony Stark."
All three laughed heartily.
Though Downey had won an Oscar for "Diego Rose," he was still best known for his role as Tony Stark.
In some ways, this was a sad reflection on the Oscars.
After chatting a bit, Franco and Downey left Murphy's office. Murphy continued his work for about half an hour before receiving a call from Carla Faith.
"I've got good news," Faith said over the phone. "The Venice Film Festival has accepted 'Spotlight' into the main competition!"
"Great!" Murphy smiled broadly. "Well done!"
20th Century Fox must have put in considerable effort.
Faith was modest. "We didn't do much. It's just that the Catholic Church's power and influence aren't what they used to be. Ten years ago, this film wouldn't have even entered Italy."
Murphy thought about it. Indeed, even in the Vatican's stronghold of Italy, the decline of religious influence was undeniable.
"By the way, there's something else," Faith switched topics. "The six major Hollywood studios are joining forces with some second-tier companies to suggest implementing a movie rating system to the film authorities across the Pacific."
"I can't help with that."
After hanging up, Murphy shook his head. "The big scissors" over there wouldn't heed external suggestions.
So far, "The Dark City" hadn't been released in their theaters. Murphy and 20th Century Fox had given up on lobbying. Lacking support from one of the world's largest film markets was a regret.
Even so, Murphy had never entertained the thought of changing "the big scissors." No matter how much effort Hollywood companies put in, it would be rejected without hesitation.
A movie rating system has obvious benefits, a globally recognized truth proven in many markets, even some less developed countries. But "the big scissors" would never approve it.
"The big scissors" don't want a rating system or clear boundaries. No matter who, they don't want to be seen as allowing pornography and violence. Their restrictions on content reflect their anxieties, insisting that films must not "harm" unity, safety, or honor, or "distort" history, with explicit depictions of sex or gambling, or promote "religious supremacy" or "detailed depictions of fortune-telling and divination."
Even after 1949, those wanting to become spirits, demons, or ghosts must stay put. There is no jumping through the dragon gate.
In theory, all these are banned by "the big scissors."
From a certain perspective, a rating system might lead to the gradual legalization of pornographic and violent films, an undeniable fact, and one of the most worrisome scenarios for "the big scissors" and the ruling class across the ocean.
Of course, some reasons are less crucial but still relevant.
For instance, it doesn't meet "the big scissors'" one-size-fits-all approach. Ratings mean standards, and standards mean no extreme deviations. Films that shouldn't be released would still need valid reasons and excuses under a rating system, unlike now where they can be easily blocked without explanation.
Regardless, a rating system is a non-starter there, and there's no point in pushing for it. Tarantino's films, for example, would find it hard to enter that market, and even if they did, they might be suddenly pulled from theaters.
"The Dark City" didn't release there, and "Spotlight" would likely face similar difficulties. Murphy's Stanton Studio wouldn't lobby; if it can't be released, so be it. The global film market is vast, and there aren't many peculiarities like "the big scissors."
In any case, Murphy had no interest in dealing with "the big scissors" anymore. Their inconsistent standards were better left to 20th Century Fox.
With most of the cast in place, filming for "Spotlight" was set to begin. Murphy continued his work until six in the evening, then left his office, found Gadot, who had also just finished work, and together with their bodyguards, got into the car parked outside.
"Take us home," he told the driver.
The driver lowered the partition, started the car, and headed towards Beverly Hills, followed by the bodyguards' car.
Perhaps tired from work, Gadot said nothing, resting with her eyes closed. Murphy held her hand, also closing his eyes.
Suddenly, the partition came down, and the voice of the bodyguard in the front seat sounded, "Sir, a car is following us."
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