"Hello, Steve, did you need something from me?"
"Hello, Martin. I heard about that kid Shia LaBeouf. I'm really sorry."
Martin winked at Drew.
Drew understood and smiled.
Martin continued, "That incident has nothing to do with you. That kid's just someone you mentored, Steve. There's no need for you to apologize on his behalf."
Then, his tone shifted. "But to be honest, I really don't like that kid. From now on, in all of Meyers Films' productions, he won't be welcome to audition."
That line wasn't exactly polite.
But on the other end of the call, Spielberg's tone didn't waver in the slightest. In fact, he even chuckled. "That's the punishment he deserves. The kid's smart, but his parents divorced when he was little, and he grew up without proper guidance. Maybe taking a few hits from society will be good for him in the long run."
Martin laughed too. "Glad to hear it. Thanks for making the call, Steve. Honestly, what did the kid tell you?"
Spielberg burst out laughing. "He said you had someone beat him up and insulted me too. I believed the first part. The second? Not even for a second."
"Haha, you guessed right. The punk harassed a female actor on my crew, then started yelling at me and Drew."
"Well, then he deserved a bit of a lesson."
...
After chatting with Spielberg for a while, Martin hung up.
"He apologized?" Drew asked.
"Yup, he apologized," Martin replied.
"That one line you threw in just now was a bit sharp. Were you testing the waters?" Duro asked again.
"Exactly. Looks like that Shia LaBeouf kid isn't all that important in Steve's eyes. He's nowhere near the level of Vin Diesel. Speaking of which, is that bald guy still as well-behaved as before?"
"Totally. That bald-headed kid knows how to carry himself—especially around people with more status than him," Duro chuckled. "Back when we were shooting, Godfather even called me a few times asking how the kid was doing."
Martin nodded. "Now that's real concern—after all, he's his biological son. But Steve has over thirty kids from different mothers. No way he likes them all."
"Of course not. Not everyone knows how to behave like I do," Duro said smugly.
"Oh really? Wasn't he the one who once wrote a letter cursing you out?"
"That was Godfather criticizing me over how I handled his daughter—doesn't that just prove how much he cared about me?!"
On the side, Megan Fox looked a bit flustered, as if she'd just bitten off more than she could chew.
Vin Diesel? Spielberg's biological son?
Among Spielberg's seven daughters, none of them seemed to match that description…
Just to indulge a bit of gossip—Spielberg does have seven daughters, but his second son Theo Spielberg is adopted, and he's African American.
Although rumor has it that this African American kid is actually Spielberg's own child, born out of wedlock with a African American actress.
Especially since Theo Spielberg has that distinctive hooked nose that's a Spielberg family trademark...
...
Back at the Wanted studio set.
By this time, Thomas Carter had already gone over all the choreography for today's fight scenes with the actors.
(TL/N: Thomas Carter is originally Chinese (Tiger Hu Chen), but I changed his race and all his ancestors' names to Carter. I'll do the same if more Chinese characters show up—unless they're actresses or well-known Chinese figures. In that case, I might just summarize them like Sayonara does. ^_^)
Martin was in the middle of discussing things with the director, Timur Bekmambetov.
"The assassin's fighting movements must express an inhuman level of speed. Top-tier assassins in the League can trigger adrenaline boosts. Their reaction time and movement speed are five or six times that of normal people—but we can't use speed ramping to show it. Otherwise, the audience won't be able to keep up, and it'll cause visual fatigue. What do you think?"
Timur pondered for a moment, then said, "For these high-frequency fight scenes, I think we can use a combination of fast and slow shots. Also, Martin, you might be able to pull off an extended action sequence without it getting messy, but others probably can't. So, when we shoot the fight scenes between other characters, we'll have to figure something out during editing."
"Three-second rapid cuts?" Martin's eyes lit up.
"Exactly. This method is already used in quite a few action films these days—it adds a sense of impact and sharpness to the fight choreography," Timur said.
"Also," Timur continued, "that segment you choreographed in the textile factory—the Combat Dance—was fantastic. That part could use a few long takes. Then we splice in some of the tighter shots to break it up."
"For this sequence, I plan to use two styles of visual expression: One is from the audience's perspective—absolutely fast, sharp, and brutal. The other is from the character's perspective—relatively slow, fluid, and elegant."
"By contrasting the two, I believe the clash in pacing will create an impactful dynamic. Combined with your awesome choreography, Martin, this sequence is bound to become a classic."
Timur became more and more excited as he spoke. Ideas were pouring out of his head non-stop.
Martin nodded at times, offered his own suggestions at others. He was clearly very satisfied with this Russian director.
He'd seen this guy's work on Night Watch and Day Watch—rare fantasy-action films with exceptional choreography.
Especially Night Watch—with its strong personal style and dazzling action scenes, it broke Russia's box office record upon release.
This guy was also the original timeline's director for Wanted.
"Nice camera design—I like your ideas," Martin said, patting the burly Kazakh on the shoulder.
At that moment, on set, Jessica Alba was under Thomas Carter guidance, practicing her fight choreography.
This woman's current career development was way ahead of her original timeline.
Charlie's Angels, Dance My Life, High School Musical—one box office hit after another. 2008 had propelled this fiery Latina beauty into one of Hollywood's top-tier actresses.
Compared to the original timeline, she was even hotter than Angelina Jolie at this point.
Due to her background in dance, Jessica picked up fight choreography very smoothly.
Watching her execute a full set of Thomas combat moves, her punches and kicks slicing through the air—she had a bit of that martial grace seen in Hong Kong action films.
After finishing his conversation with Timur, Martin walked over to watch, clearly impressed.
Jessica, getting into the groove, suddenly beckoned to Martin with a finger. "Come on! Spar with me!"
Martin grinned.
He took off his jacket and hopped into the ring.
Swish swish swish!
Jessica launched a flurry of sharp sidekicks.
Her moves might've seemed fast to an ordinary person, but to Martin—whose focus was razor-sharp—they might as well have been in slow motion.
He leaned back, lifted a leg, and moved his hand—snatching Jessica's ankle right out of the air. Then—
Martin started tickling the bottom of her foot with his fingers.
"Ahhh! HAHAHAHA! Stop! It tickles!"
"Gonna surrender or not?"
"I surrender, I surrender—Ahhhh! Why you're still tickling me?!"
"Hehehehe! This is the punishment for your provocation."
[GodOfReader: RAAAAH! FEET! FEEEEET!]