Martin felt that the passage of Proposition 47 was all about selling guns.
It was probably one or several arms manufacturers looking to clear out their stockpiles.
With deteriorating public safety, ordinary citizens would naturally want to buy guns to protect their lives and property; if ordinary citizens bought guns, criminals would follow suit; not to mention that with the deterrent power of the law diminished, gangs would resort to force more frequently, increasing demand for firearms...
In any case, arms dealers were sure winners, the public losers, and criminals were just tools.
It wasn't long before Kentucky Senator Thomas Massie posted a family photo on Twitter—men, women, old and young, each holding a gun, all smiling brightly.
This was blatant advertising! Reminding the public: to protect your family's bright smiles, hurry up and buy guns!
Shameless.
.......
Time flew by.
It came to mid-July in the summer.
Guardians of the Galaxy premiered.
Chris Pratt, full of vigor, had his arm around Zoe Saldana, who played Gamora, as they walked the red carpet.
Then, in the press interview area, he candidly said:
"Hey, folks, you ready? In some obscure corner, mischief and adventure intertwine, and a hilariously ragtag team is about to emerge. Hahaha, soon you'll get to enjoy a thrilling spectacle blending epic cosmic fantasy with slapstick comedy. I dare say, this is an unprecedented feast of revelry. Hehe, let's dive into the interstellar vortex and gradually unlock this unique hero's story." [TL/N: I feel like this paragraph was made using an A.I]
Zoe Saldana looked at the man beside her, chattering away, speechless.
This guy really talked too much—like a magpie in a past life.
Chris Pratt was, of course, excited. A blockbuster with a $170 million investment—in Hollywood's sea of actors, how many got such a chance?
In his mind, if not for Martin's recommendation, this juicy "pie" wouldn't have fallen on his head.
And now that he'd grabbed this opportunity, if the film exploded at the box office, it meant his status would skyrocket.
Of course, conversely, if it flopped, he'd be done for.
So don't be fooled by his endless babbling now—it was all nerves talking.
"...Our film is absolutely a must-see. I play the witty, roguish Earthling Peter Quill, teaming up with the universe's quirkiest, most mismatched companions to form the 'Guardians of the Galaxy.' Hand in hand, we face apocalyptic crises..."
Chris Pratt rambled on, even slipping in some film promotion.
Zoe Saldana could only stand there bored, zoning out, but not forgetting to strike poses for the photographers' pretty shots.
Just then, Zoe Saldana suddenly felt her hand empty—the chattering Chris Pratt had bolted forward.
She turned to see him, slightly bowed, fawning over Martin, who'd just stepped off the red carpet.
"Martin, long time no see—when you free for a drink? My treat!"
"Sure."
Martin smiled in response.
Chris Pratt's heart eased immediately, then he led Martin toward the venue like a waiter.
Passing the press area, Martin paused to chat with reporters: "Chris Pratt's a good kid," "
His acting's spot-on,"
"So I recommended him,"
"I've seen the Guardians of the Galaxy dailies—box office smash, no doubt"...
Martin's praise for Chris Pratt had the guy's face blooming with smiles.
Once Martin finished answering, it was like a servant ushering him into the hall—the whole time ignoring his girlfriend.
Zoe Saldana could only trail behind in her gown, smile frozen, though anyone could see the stiffness and her barely contained anger and embarrassment.
One reporter said: "Chris Pratt's such a bootlicker around Martin—shame he's a star."
Another: "That's Martin for you. If bootlicking got me a blockbuster lead and a million-plus payday, I'd lick his ass too!" [literally?]
One: "But Zoe Saldana looks so awkward—Martin shows up, and Chris Pratt ignores her the whole time."
A bearded one: "What else? Anyone else would choose to suck up to Martin too—beautiful women aren't scarce in Hollywood; they're abundant."
......
The screening itself was unremarkable.
Guardians of the Galaxy was a standard comic adaptation above par.
The plot was simple: Peter Quill, abducted from Earth as a kid, raised by his adoptive father Yondu to become an ultimate rogue, self-styled "Star-Lord."
In one heist, he steals a mysterious orb, becoming the target of bounty hunters Rocket Raccoon and tree-man Groot, while the mysterious Gamora is also after the orb.
Through a series of comedic misadventures, Star-Lord is forced to team up with these three, plus the vengeful "Destroyer" Drax, to evade "Accuser" Ronan's pursuit.
But the mysterious orb holds immense power; the team must unite to counter Ronan and save the galaxy—the Guardians of the Galaxy are born.
What set this film apart from other superhero movies was that it didn't follow the formula of crafting a tall, righteous image to make viewers feel the world needed saving by him alone—there were too many such films, and audiences could get tired.
Instead, Guardians of the Galaxy uniquely centered a petty rogue, giving a fresh feel, plus his colorful teammates—a bunch of misfits, or even criminals—
Such a combo, in the end, would produce what kind of effect?
Guardians of the Galaxy ultimately showed viewers not a simple hero-saves-the-world tale.
But that saving the world doesn't require heroes.
If anything, it was a "loser league"—such a setup closed the gap between the characters and real viewers, so future box office success wouldn't be surprising.
Watching the wisecracking "Peter Quill," Martin thought of Deadpool—another intriguing character.
Too bad, after The Avengers, Marvel Studios was on fire; without investment stake from them, and no investment meant no interest in filming it for Martin.