The Greatest Showman #913 - Good Luck and Bad Luck

Fortune and misfortune are intertwined, and misfortune often leads to fortune. The unpredictable nature of the world can turn events in unexpected directions.

Bob Weinstein took two deep breaths. His mind was still a bit scattered, but he had calmed down somewhat. He replayed the events of the past 48 hours in his head—again and again—but still couldn't piece together how things had spiraled to this point.

In the past two days, the buzz surrounding Crazy Love had skyrocketed, and the sales of Don Quixote were exploding with astonishing energy. The name "Renly Hall" was gaining momentum, and it was picking up speed rapidly.

There were less than two weeks left before the Oscars. The major public relations campaigns had wrapped up, and only a few smaller awards, such as the Directors Guild of America Award, the Producers Guild of America Award, and a few film critics' awards, remained. The awards season was entering its final sprint. The frontrunners were clear, and the chance of any surprises was shrinking fast. The Artist had closed the gap, keeping pace with Hugo, The Descendants, and Midnight in Paris. The next two weeks would be the final battle.

But now, Renly Hall was rising—and it was terrifying.

As the top players in the industry, the Weinstein brothers had their ear to the ground, and they could feel the winds of change. They were already noticing the subtle shift in the industry's dynamics.

Hollywood, a vanity fair in its own right, was still largely untouched by this change—but there was a new undercurrent. The Weinstein brothers, always attuned to these shifts, could sense something was different.

The real question was: Should they be worried? Jean Dujardin and George Clooney's pairing was strong. The Artist had gained enough momentum. Was Renly's rise truly a threat?

Bob tried to think through it calmly, but the more he thought about it, the less clear the path seemed. After countless twists and turns, things were heading into completely unknown territory. The hype gate had gone in an entirely different direction than they'd expected.

Had promoting the negative rumors been the right decision? Bob couldn't find an answer. Regret wasn't the solution, though. It wouldn't fix anything—it would only make things worse. What they needed to focus on now was what to do next.

Bob looked across the room at his brother, Harvey Weinstein, who sat in deep thought.

Among the Weinstein brothers, Harvey was the one who made decisions. He controlled the film side of the business, while Bob focused more on television and behind-the-scenes matters. But when it came to strategy, Harvey was the one with the final say.

Harvey was leaning back in his chair, his right elbow propped up on the armrest, his chin resting in his palm. His eyes were partially closed, but his furrowed brows revealed that he was deep in thought. His fingers absentmindedly twirled at the stubble on his chin, a gesture that always meant he was working through something intense.

"Harvey," Bob began, "the advantages of Jean and George are clear. They don't need any extra manipulation. That kid—Renly—he's still young. His momentum this year is mostly driven by sympathy and pity. He needs a few more years to mature, at least until he's twenty-eight or twenty-nine. We don't need to worry about him."

Bob's reasoning was simple: unnecessary actions now would only complicate things. With the Oscars only two weeks away, the process was all but decided. Weinstein Pictures was still in the strongest position, and this year's biggest winner was already clear.

Harvey's gaze shot up, his eyes blazing with anger. "So, what? He insults me at Sundance, and now he insults me again in Hollywood? He's already on our turf. You want me to just sit back and let him get away with this?"

His voice was sharp, his words laced with fury.

"Harvey, I'm just saying…" Bob tried to calm him down. "Renly's momentum is positive right now. If we make a move too soon, it could backfire. It could make others start to rebel, and that's not what we want. Besides…"

Bob hesitated. This was the crux of the problem. Despite Renly's rise, he had delivered one of the most solid performances of the year in Crazy Love. The film was getting glowing reviews, and the praise for his work was undeniable.

But Bob didn't finish his sentence. He knew his brother wouldn't be swayed so easily.

Harvey's anger only grew. He slammed his fist onto the armrest, sending a jolt through the room. "What's more, Bob? What's more?"

Harvey was furious, his face red with rage. "Let me tell you something. Hollywood is my territory. Don't think just because you've worked on a few indie films, you understand how things work here. That kid thinks he can push me around? He's wrong. I have the final say."

Harvey stood up, knocking over the table in front of him, letting his anger spill out. For someone who had controlled Hollywood for over two decades, this humiliation was too much to bear.

"And this isn't just the first time," Harvey raged. "Sundance was one thing. But now, it's happening again during awards season. From the same actor, the same film. It's not just an embarrassment. It's a stain on my name, on the Weinstein name. I won't allow it. Not again!"

His fury was palpable as he kicked the sofa beside him and grabbed the whiskey bottle on the table. With a violent motion, he slammed it against the wall, the amber liquid spilling out like fireworks. The anger had temporarily subsided, but the damage was done.

Harvey spat on the floor in frustration. "If that kid wants a fight, let's give him one. He's been playing games at a kindergarten level while I've been in the big leagues. Let's see who comes out on top."

Bob tried once more to intervene, but the words caught in his throat. Harvey was already setting things in motion. The press, the parties, the internal previews, the critics' awards—everything was falling into place.

"Bob!" Harvey snapped, his eyes sharp. "Are you even listening? We have a lot to do. And remember—two weeks is more than enough time. That kid better stay in New York and keep his distance from Los Angeles, or he'll see what real PR looks like."

Bob nodded, suppressing a sigh. "Yes, I'm listening."

The awards season was a tumultuous time, full of uncertainty and variables. The Weinstein brothers could only do their best to navigate it. The results would be decided on the night of the Oscars.

For now, the brothers focused on doing everything perfectly, just like last year when The King's Speech took home the Oscars without a hitch. This year, it seemed like another Weinstein victory was almost a given.

Meanwhile, Renly Hall had completely vanished from the spotlight. Amid all the noise of the media and the online frenzy, he had disappeared—no statements, no interviews. It was as if he had vanished from North America entirely. Andy Rodgers and Roy Lockley became the focus of the media, but even they claimed not to know where Renly was.

The media buzzed with stories about hype gate and the truth behind it all. But Renly himself remained silent. He had disappeared, and with that disappearance, the entire frenzy seemed to lose its focus. No one knew where he was—or what he was doing.