Made In Hollywood

Stepping into the specially constructed dance rehearsal room within the studio, Duke stood at the entrance, watching the actresses warm up. Lily Fred and her assistants were scattered around Naomi Watts, Catherine Zeta-Jones, and several other main actresses, explaining the most basic movements and precautions.

Although not completely ignorant, Duke lacked professional expertise in song and dance, so he mostly just observed, rarely giving any opinions.

Lily Fred was not only a seasoned Broadway professional but had also been nominated for several Tony Awards. The sequences she had choreographed had already received Duke's approval.

"Duke, I have something I want to discuss with you."

Seeing Duke, Lily Fred approached directly and said, "I have some different opinions on the setup for the musical scenes."

"Go ahead."

As a professional, Duke was not the kind of director who refused to listen to others.

"Shall we head to the set?"

After Duke nodded in agreement, Lily Fred and Duke left the dance rehearsal room and walked into the adjacent set, arriving at a section constructed for a prison scene. The setup here was relatively simple, with a row of sliding prop prison doors already installed.

Having worked together for some time, Lily Fred understood Duke's attitude toward his work, so she didn't beat around the bush. Standing in front of the iron doors, she said, "I believe six chairs as props are enough for this musical scene."

Duke looked at her and made a gesture for her to continue.

Lily Fred explained in detail, "This is the darkest and most oppressive musical number in the entire film. In my vision, the props only need six chairs. Each woman takes turns stepping forward to plead her case for killing her husband, then they all shout their deepest emotions together. Simple and powerful."

She pointed to the iron doors, "I saw your vision. Besides these, you also included a duet, group dance, and chorus, and even added a section of red silk in the performers' hands. Such a complex and colorful stage backdrop would detract from the power of the actresses' performances. It might even overshadow them."

"The simplest props—solo dance, solo singing—using the actors' performances to set the mood," Duke walked over, touching the plastic-made iron door. "Lily, is that what you're thinking?"

"Exactly!" Lily Fred immediately responded. "I believe this is the most appropriate artistic expression."

"Your idea isn't wrong, and your suggestion is very fair." Duke pointed around the set. "But you're overlooking one thing: we're making a movie, not a stage play. These are two forms of expression with vast differences."

"Movies are not just about the actors' performances!" Duke walked past the iron door, "I need more props, more dancing, and singing to support this scene, to make it more visually impactful. Using moving iron doors, red silk to symbolize blood and death, and having group dances and a chorus—while they might dilute the actors' performances, they will make the scene fuller and more visually attractive."

When an audience watches a stage play, they can focus entirely on the performers. But movies are different. If the actors are just performing monologues, even if it's Meryl Streep and Tom Hanks combined, it still wouldn't hold the attention of most viewers.

From the day Duke chose to make this film, he had decided that *Chicago* was a musical but also a commercial film!

Perhaps the way Lily Fred suggested would be more artistically inclined, something that would be appreciated by some professionals, and if the actors performed well, it might even win awards. But Duke wouldn't adopt it. As the investor in this film, methods that don't align with the rules of commercial filmmaking had to be set aside.

After resolving this small issue, Duke and Lily Fred visited other sets under construction, discussing various props and set designs. Both, as the director and the choreographer, knew that communication between them was extremely important.

In the end, all sorts of preparatory work would have to be reported to Duke and Robin Grant. After a busy morning, Duke finally felt a bit relieved by lunchtime.

"A croissant, beef stew with potatoes, and a glass of juice, please."

In Warner Bros.' studio cafeteria, Duke ordered lunch, took his tray, and walked toward the dining area. Since film crews frequently worked at the studio, many big-name stars and directors were regulars at what appeared to be an ordinary cafeteria.

Sitting at a pristine white table, Duke had just taken a sip of juice when someone across from him spoke.

"May I sit here?"

Looking up, Duke glanced at Catherine Zeta-Jones, who was holding a tray, and said, "Feel free."

"Thank you!"

Catherine Zeta-Jones sat down across from him, set down her tray, and first tied back her slightly damp hair. Noticing her loose sweater, Duke guessed that she had just taken a shower after practice.

"I haven't had a chance to say thank you."

Seeing that Duke was just quietly eating and didn't seem inclined to speak, Catherine Zeta-Jones took the initiative to break the silence. "Thank you for giving me the role of Velma."

"No need to thank me," Duke smiled at her. "You earned it with your excellent performance."

If her audition hadn't gone well, Duke definitely wouldn't have chosen her, even though she was Catherine Zeta-Jones. No matter what she might offer, he wouldn't gamble with his investment.

To him, career always came before any of these actresses.

Like many actresses, Catherine Zeta-Jones ate only a small portion of her meal before shifting her attention to Duke.

"I originally wanted to invite you to dinner last weekend to express my thanks, but my mother came from Wales."

Not far from Duke, Catherine Zeta-Jones batted her charming eyes, "Are you free this weekend?"

"Sorry…"

After considering his schedule, Duke shook his head slowly. "I'll be going to New York to visit my mother. It's been planned for a while."

The momentary disappointment quickly disappeared, and Zeta-Jones immediately changed the subject. "It sounds like you have a close relationship with your mother."

"I only have my mom as a family member."

Putting down his knife and fork, Duke accepted a clean, scented napkin Catherine Zeta-Jones handed him. Wiping the grease from his lips, he said, "Mom taught me a lot. Without her, I wouldn't be where I am today."

His mother was proud of him, just as he was proud to have a mother like her.

From the conversation, Catherine Zeta-Jones swiftly found a suitable topic. "A great mother can help us a lot."

Duke completely agreed, "That's true."

"I'll never forget my mother." Catherine Zeta-Jones seemed lost in thought, her eyes slightly reddening. "My original dream was to become a singer, but when I was sixteen, I fell seriously ill, and my vocal cords were damaged, making it impossible to handle frequent singing. At that time, I felt like my whole world had collapsed…"

Her voice carried a faint sadness, full of emotion. "It was my mother who kept encouraging me, helping me get back on my feet. With her support, I went to London for professional dance training, and that's how I achieved even this little bit of success today."

"Of course, I also have to thank you for your help." Catherine Zeta-Jones said sincerely, "Duke, you gave me the chance to prove myself again in Hollywood."

"So, the film has to be a success," Duke shrugged.

"Do you think it might fail? I've never thought that."

"No one can guarantee a film's success."

Without hesitation, Catherine Zeta-Jones retorted, "I believe you're the guarantee of success. How many directors in the world have made four consecutive blockbusters?"

Duke could only laugh, "You have more confidence than I do."

"I'm just stating the basic facts."

Pleased with how the conversation was going, Catherine Zeta-Jones' smile appeared even more charming. "I've been following *Saving Private Ryan*. Your style has clearly changed in that film, and the transformation was so successful."

She took a sip of her juice and continued, "I checked the box office stats yesterday: $298.75 million in North America and $612.14 million worldwide—making it the highest-grossing R-rated film of all time!"

"There will soon be an even more successful R-rated film."

Glancing at his watch, Duke stood up, ready to leave. "It's about time to get back to work."

In addition to preparing *Chicago*, Duke had been keeping an eye on the performance of *Saving Private Ryan*, which, due to its rating and other factors, lacked the staying power of *Independence Day*. By late November, the film had already been pulled from major chains like AMC, Empress Entertainment, and National Artists, with only a few independent theaters in New York and Los Angeles still showing it.

20th Century Fox, the distributor, had a clear strategy: targeting the Oscars.

As December approached, Hollywood's traditional awards season officially began. Actors, directors, and film companies with Oscar hopes, along with their publicists and agents, were entering their busiest season of the year. Even someone like Duke, who wasn't too concerned with the Oscars, had to attend several publicity events as per his director's contract.

During this era, the Oscars could significantly boost a film's commercial success. While Duke knew his chances of winning Best Director were slim, supporting the film in its bid for Best Picture was still a possibility.

The Oscars had a tradition: if a film's director and producer showed no interest in the awards, the film generally wouldn't win any major ones.

To ensure the profit-sharing that mattered to him, Duke, before Christmas, hosted a party at his home at the request of Warner Bros. and Fox

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