The Greatest Showman #1238 - Sunset Boulevard

Graydon Carter's tenure as editor-in-chief of Vanity Fair has been unwavering for over 20 years. Even Michael Eisner, the legendary figurehead of Disney, has retired from the spotlight, but Graydon's position remains as solid as ever. More importantly, Vanity Fair's influence in the industry has continued to grow.

This kind of skill and insight is not to be underestimated.

For this year's Oscar night, Graydon spent six months cultivating a friendship with Renly, carefully planning his invitation. He never revealed his true intent until the Oscar nominations were officially announced. It was the third time he'd mentioned it to Roy and the first time he directly asked Renly about his willingness to attend.

Once Drunken Country Ballad was completed, Graydon traveled to New York himself to personally deliver the invitation to Roy. However, Renly was nowhere to be found. Eventually, Matthew Dunlop stepped in for Renly and accepted the invitation—Roy couldn't sway Renly, but Matthew could.

What's particularly fascinating is that Graydon had prepared two invitation letters in advance. One was for Matthew—who, as a renowned lawyer, nobleman, and close friend of Renly, was a perfect recipient. The other was for Renly, ensuring that no one else had access to such an exclusive opportunity.

For Roy, Nathan, and Andy, they could enter the party as Renly's companions.

Later, Matthew discovered that Eaton Dormer and Andre Hamilton had also received invitations. This detail spoke volumes about Graydon's influence. Not only did he carefully research Renly's inner circle, but he also made sure to invite people with direct or indirect ties to Hollywood, leveraging the momentum of these relationships to gently encourage Renly's participation.

What was most ingenious was how Graydon never overtly expressed his desire or made a direct request. He laid the groundwork and then quietly let things unfold. Instead of pushing through a professional or formal approach, Graydon relied on personal connections, making it feel less like an obligation and more like a casual invitation to a private gathering. This subtle, yet genius maneuver, downplayed the overwhelming influence of Oscar night, turning the event into a personal gesture.

This strategy wasn't just the work of a brilliant publicist; it also reflected Graydon's sophisticated understanding of the upper echelons of society. He knew that people of Renly's stature don't make decisions lightly—honor and prestige are everything to them. Modesty and restraint are paramount in their interactions, and only through the right balance of respect and rapport can one earn an equal footing.

Though Matthew didn't particularly care for Graydon—his cleverness was a quality Matthew had encountered often in London—he had to admit that Graydon was a master of his craft. "If he met Arthur, the two would likely have much in common," Renly remarked.

So, the big question: would Renly be at Oscar night?

The answer was yes.

Thanks to Graydon's sincerity, Andy's earnest request, and the presence of Eaton and Andre, Matthew found himself drawn into the Oscar night festivities. But it was Arthur Hall's presence that truly sealed the deal.

Strictly speaking, this was the most important factor.

Earlier, Andre had mentioned that Arthur and Elf seemed to have had a falling out. Shortly after, Arthur left London, flying to Los Angeles and staying in California for nearly two weeks. Despite his low profile, he frequented parties and mingled in a manner that suggested he was more than just enjoying a casual vacation. The entire situation reminded Renly of the days spent in Sicily.

Then, Edith came to mind.

She had been in London before Christmas, staying for nearly a month, before leaving exhausted and heading back to New York. Renly's intuition told him that these two situations were interconnected, and that they had something to do with him. However, unwilling to be overly self-reflective, Renly chose not to dwell on the possibility.

Regardless of the personal intrigue, Renly found the prospect of seeing Arthur in Los Angeles intriguing. He believed Arthur, like Andre, would appreciate the lively, carefree nature of the city, with its parties, wine, and culture—though it wasn't London, it was still worth experiencing.

Ultimately, Renly decided to attend Oscar night with a sense of wonderment, as if stepping into Alice in Wonderland.

Additionally, Renly was still curious about his brief interaction with Steven Spielberg at the Oscars. Their conversation had barely scratched the surface, and Renly couldn't help but wonder what it would be like to collaborate with Spielberg on a project. Just imagining the potential was exciting enough.

After a brief vacation in Florida, Renly was once again thrust into the colorful whirlwind that was Vanity Fair. He had returned to a world where life and death seemed intertwined, where people's fates were constantly on display. It was both fascinating and, in its own way, morbidly captivating.

After leaving the Dolby Theater, Renly's private car slowly made its way down Hollywood Boulevard, eventually arriving at the Hollywood Hilton Hotel.

This wasn't just a stop on the way to Oscar night—it was a necessary interlude for celebrities to freshen up. Even the brightest stars needed a moment to cleanse the exhaustion of the day, to change into new clothes, and to prepare for the next phase of the evening.

The itinerary for attending the Oscars went something like this: red carpet, awards show, backstage celebration, hotel adjustment, red carpet again, and then the rave party.

Throughout this journey, actors might change into multiple outfits, sometimes as many as three or four, each with matching makeup and styles. Even the adjustment time at the hotel after the awards ceremony was a crucial moment for the losers to regroup and face the rest of the night with renewed energy.

Variety once estimated that the average cost for an actress attending Oscar night—including hair, makeup, clothing, and accessories—was at least $200,000, not including jewelry. The costs for male actors were somewhat lower, but still significant due to cufflinks, watches, and other accessories.

For lesser-known actors, even if the invitation was free, $50,000 was considered the minimum standard to attend this prestigious event. No one wanted to show up looking underdressed, as this could result in a missed opportunity in an event filled with potential.

To avoid the embarrassment of showing up ill-prepared, Renly arrived at the Hollywood Hilton ahead of time to change, rest, and make any necessary adjustments before heading back out to the Oscar party. The convenience of the Hilton made it an obvious choice for many, including Renly, as it was less than ten minutes' drive from the Sunset Tower Hotel, the venue for Oscar night.

The Sunset Tower Hotel, located on the west end of Sunset Boulevard, had become synonymous with the Oscars, offering a grand setting for the most coveted night in Hollywood. In the golden age of cinema, Sunset Boulevard was home to luxury estates and served as a playground for the rich and famous. Over time, the area had lost some of its former luster, turning into a popular tourist destination.

Nonetheless, the Sunset Tower Hotel still stood as a historic landmark, witnessing the commercialization of Hollywood. Every year, on Oscar night, it became a pilgrimage site for actors, industry professionals, and newcomers hoping to make their mark.

After leaving the Hollywood Hilton, Renly's car headed north along Santa Monica Boulevard. The traffic slowed as the line of luxury vehicles stretched down the hillside. What had once been a lively boulevard had now become a sea of parked cars, as celebrities waited in line to enter the Sunset Tower Hotel.

Eventually, Renly arrived at the venue, where a uniformed staff member greeted him, confirming his reservation. With a smile, the staff member welcomed him to Oscar night.