I Am an Actor: Oscar Night

Belle Époque Hotel.

Willem Dafoe sat on the balcony of his room, admiring Venice's nightscape.

He believed that even the Venice described in The Merchant of Venice could not compare to what he saw before him.

Who would have thought that by appearing in a commercial film, he would become the first actor in Hollywood history whose single film had grossed more than four billion dollars?

If his character had not been killed off, he would have wanted to be in the sequel even for free.

Over this period, he had lost count of how many calls he had received from major Hollywood directors.

No one could resist a leading man like Huang Kaiwen.

Even if the sequel was a little weaker, it was guaranteed to make three billion at least. There were almost no directors capable of reaching that level with a single film, but Huang Kaiwen himself brought that much box office with him.

With an actor like that, failure simply did not exist.

There was only winning.

A small win, a medium win, a huge win!

Winning beyond belief.

He had not expected it before, but now he had begun to feel the benefits.

There were far more scripts for him to choose from.

Reporters were also more enthusiastic toward him than before, hoping he would expose some dirt on Huang Kaiwen.

Those bastards ought to think about it. If Huang Kaiwen really had those scandals, some major media outlet would have exposed them long ago.

With the film festival opening, all of Italy became much livelier.

Because Huang Kaiwen's film was in competition, there were more than twice as many reporters in Venice as usual.

Quite a few of them were sports reporters.

There were also quite a lot of domestic actors, because all three major