The photo in the center of the newspaper showed the couple from Eyes Wide Shut, dressed in luxurious clothes and embracing beneath dazzling lights. The image had a striking visual contrast, yet revealed little about their emotions.
The Los Angeles Times' chief film critic, Kenneth Turan, titled his review "A Dazzling 'Eyes Wide Shut.'"
He gave the film high praise, calling it a masterpiece. He described its pacing as "slow, stately, and dreamlike," saying it felt more like a psychological exploration than a sensual romp.
He also noted that everything—from the depth of its themes to its visuals, atmosphere, and performances—was flawless. It was a complex, lavish, and thought-provoking legacy Kubrick had left to the world, one that deserved to be watched patiently.
Besides the Los Angeles Times, The New Yorker, the Chicago Sun-Times, the San Francisco Chronicle, and others had all given Eyes Wide Shut extremely high praise.
After reading the reviews, Irene turned to Shelly and asked, "I imagine Mr. Cruise's PR team paid very generously."
Shelly didn't answer directly, only giving her a look that said it was obvious.
Still, not all the media had thrown every standard out the window just to heap on praise. The New York Times, for instance, criticized the film, saying it moved too slowly, was self-important, or failed to achieve its lofty ambitions.
"How come I haven't seen any reviews of our movie?" Irene flipped through the newspaper in her hands. She hadn't gotten up this early just to see how much everyone loved Eyes Wide Shut.
"Be patient, sweetheart. Take another careful look." Francis came over, patted her shoulder, then went to the liquor cabinet and took out a bottle of red wine.
Irene frowned, puzzled by her father's actions. He usually only brought out the wine from his vineyard to celebrate when he was especially happy. "Are our box office numbers in?" she asked without thinking.
"I'm still waiting for a call from MGM. You know, it takes time to compile the figures, especially when money's involved. You have to be patient."
So he's opening the champagne at halftime! Irene couldn't help thinking. She hoped this jinx wouldn't come back to haunt her.
She carefully read through the newspaper and finally found a review of Legally Blonde in The Washington Post.
Critic Hall Carter called the film an unexpected delight. Based on its synopsis and trailer, he'd expected it to be a shallow, boring movie. But after watching it, he found it genuinely entertaining, cleverly written and directed. He also believed Reese Witherspoon's performance was the key to the film's success.
She wasn't merely playing a stereotypical blonde; she gave the character soul, intelligence, and an astonishing gift for comedy. The review praised the leading lady's charm from beginning to end.
"'Cleverly written and directed'—that's supposed to be a compliment to me, right?" Irene wasn't entirely satisfied. The critic was telling the truth: the leading lady was the film's main strength, something Irene had known from the start. But all she got was a couple of words of praise. It didn't make her happy.
Then, in the Chicago Sun-Times, she found famed critic Roger Ebert praising Irene under the over-the-top headline, "The Pride of the Coppola Family—The Birth of Another Talented Director."
The entire piece lavished praise on Irene from every angle, yet the precise, well-chosen wording kept it from sounding excessive.
Irene had to admit she was enjoying it immensely. "I don't think I saw Roger Ebert at the premiere?"
"Hollywood's top critics always enjoy certain privileges."
"So what's this article worth?"
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"Ring, ring—ring, ring—"
Before her father could answer, the landline rang.
Irene and Shelly exchanged a glance. Before one of the household staff could reach the tea cabinet, Francis had already picked up the phone.
"Hello, Francis Coppola speaking... All right... Thank you very much for your support..."
At MGM's headquarters, Joyce Jackson hurried to Robert Smith's office with the freshly compiled figures. She knocked twice, casually, then pushed the door open.
"Robert..." Before she could finish, Robert Smith reached out and took the figures from her.
Joyce Jackson had no choice but to sit down.
"Legally Blonde took in $890,000 from midnight screenings across 820 theaters. That's far beyond our expectations." Robert went straight to the results.
"That's not all. The research firm we hired surveyed nearly 2,000 audience members right afterward. Eighty-five percent gave it an A+, and 96 percent gave it an A or higher. Fewer than one percent gave it below a C!" Joyce Jackson spoke rapidly, barely containing her excitement. "That's more than ten percentage points higher than our Bond films!"
Many of the people who came to see it were Britney's fans, or had been drawn in by her. But such a high approval rating showed that the film itself had truly struck a chord with that audience.
And such high audience approval usually meant the film had tremendous box-office potential.
"We made the right move. Irene Coppola is an impressive young woman. She hasn't let us down." Robert Smith took a deep breath. He'd already faced considerable pressure for accepting Joyce's proposal to distribute Legally Blonde. Now, with both its reception and box office results looking so strong, he could finally report good news.
"Contact the theaters and see if you can expand the release beyond its current scale. With numbers like these, we may not get to 2,000 theaters, but we should certainly be able to double it to 1,600." Robert made the decision quickly. Cutting back the theater count had been a necessary measure; now, expanding the release was their chance to turn things around.
"Understood. I'll contact them right away."
"We also need to step up promotion. Most of the critics we contacted earlier had their attention drawn to Eyes Wide Shut. Now it's finally time for them to get to work."
"Got it."
The two of them went on to develop a more detailed promotional strategy based on the situation, determined to make the most of Legally Blonde's strengths.
"Legally Blonde took in $890,000 from midnight screenings. MGM's going to ramp up the publicity." After hanging up, Francis shared the good news with Irene and Shelly.
"Ramp up the publicity?" Irene repeated what her father had said about MGM's plans. "Looks like our movie's a success."
Francis Coppola poured wine into a glass and handed it to Shelly. Seeing his daughter's pout, he poured her a little, too. "Those box office numbers aren't bad." He raised his glass. "Congratulations, sweetheart."
Irene smiled, relaxed and playful, and clinked her glass against her father's. "Thanks, Dad."
Where she couldn't see it, all her stress had been building up inside. In her previous life, Legally Blonde had been a huge box-office hit, and she'd done her best to recreate the original scenes without changing the lead actress.
But with her as the director, everything became unpredictable. Her father had privately reassured her that if she failed, she could focus on her studies, then find another project and start over in four years.
But she knew that once she was labeled a failure, getting back into the ranks of commercial film directors would be much harder.
And there was no need to mention all the plans she had for the future. They would all turn to ash.
For Irene, this movie had to succeed. Failure wasn't an option.
Fortunately, she'd already made it halfway. As long as the box office held steady, Hollywood wouldn't cast her aside.
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