"That question, I think Director Nolan should answer." Laila smiled and smoothly handed the topic over to Nolan.
She had never been one to crave excessive attention. If someone could share the spotlight, all the better.
Nolan understood this, yet he still felt grateful for her "generosity." Unlike her, everyone else present—actors and directors alike—needed to cultivate their fame.
Just look at the big-name directors: James Cameron, Steven Spielberg, or Laila Moran herself. The moment their names appeared in a film's credits, box office numbers would surge. That was the power of a renowned director.
Nolan was now considered an A-list director, but his fame still lagged. He needed to work harder to build his reputation.
Of course, some might argue that Laila had never deliberately sought fame. That was because she had already made too many iconic films—her name was etched into public consciousness, needing no further embellishment. But Nolan was different. He still lacked a few more masterpieces to fully showcase his talent and influence. Once he directed a few more classics, his status as a top-tier director would be solidified.
After all, he was a director signed under her company. His rise in fame would only benefit her.
Nolan knew the situation all too well. Having spent time around Laila, he had also become wittier and more natural compared to his early days in Hollywood. No one wanted to appear lackluster in front of partners and competitors, right?
As he explained, the live audience and viewers at home burst into laughter. In their minds, they could vividly picture Nolan pestering Laila until she "had no choice" but to take on the film. The age gap between them only made the scenario even more amusing.
While the director was a point of interest, the actors were the real focus.
"We've seen several versions of the film's trailers, but strangely, Roy is nowhere to be seen. Can you tell us what role he plays in the movie?"
Laila blinked, glancing at Nolan. When he subtly winked at her, she suddenly remembered—this was part of the promotional strategy. They had deliberately kept Roy's role under wraps, saving the reveal for the theaters, where audiences would be stunned by his completely unexpected portrayal of the villainous big boss.
If anyone had claimed before the film's release that Roy would play a supporting antagonist, few would have believed it. He was, after all, the youngest Oscar-winning leading actor—why would he take on a minor role, let alone a villain?
And with Laila, the ultimate powerhouse, as his fiancée, it seemed even less likely she'd let him play such an unflattering character. So, in most discussions, the prevailing theory was that he had merely made a cameo.
Roy, of course, understood the promotional tactic. When the question came, he smiled and gave a deliberately vague answer, making it sound like he had only a small guest role. Moviegoers would later realize he was referring to a far more significant—and terrifying—antagonist.
This wasn't outright deception, just clever wording that allowed audiences to draw their conclusions. Even if his role were exposed early, no one could accuse him of lying—they'd only blame themselves for not reading between the lines.
After all these years, Roy had become adept at handling the media. His daily verbal sparring with Laila certainly hadn't been for nothing.
Christian Bale (Batman) and Maggie Gyllenhaal (the female lead) were also seasoned actors, skillfully dodging the host's verbal traps without revealing spoilers, all while keeping the show entertaining. Of course, Jimmy's restraint—due to Laila's presence—also played a part.
Regardless, the show was a success. The host's impeccable timing, combined with the guests' cooperation, allowed the audience to learn many amusing behind-the-scenes stories while laughing along. The ratings were bound to be impressive.
After recording, Laila treated everyone to a late-night meal. Nolan, still itching to know what promotional strategy she had devised in the car, found her frustratingly tight-lipped. As the gathering ended, she simply said, "You'll find out tomorrow," and waved him off.
Annoyed, the esteemed director returned home and vented to his wife—then, perhaps inspired by Laila and Roy's display, surprised her by booking a candlelit dinner and movie date.
His wife was overjoyed. She couldn't remember the last time they had gone out alone—no investors, no film discussions, just a simple dinner and a movie that wasn't one of his works. Whatever had spurred this change, she hoped it would happen more often.
Laila had no idea she and Roy's affectionate dynamic had such an effect on the director. If she had known, she'd probably have laughed for days.
Right now, she was lounging on the sofa in her bedroom, sipping juice, enjoying the air conditioning, and browsing online reactions to the show on her laptop.
The talk show aired live while they were still at the studio. By the time they got home, discussions were already flooding the internet.
Roy stepped out of the shower to find her typing away, chuckling to herself.
"What's so funny?" He settled beside her and saw her scrolling through Facebook.
"Just replying to comments. Some netizens from the East—their posts are hilarious." Laila felt a nostalgic warmth at seeing certain online slang from her past life. Though they were old memes to her, in this era, they were fresh and amusing.
Roy's Chinese had improved significantly by now—if tested, he'd easily score at an advanced level. As one of the most difficult languages, Chinese is incredibly nuanced. Just look at ancient poetry: a single character could convey paragraphs of meaning.
But the Chinese also had a beautiful continuity. Modern readers can still understand texts from thousands of years ago with a bit of thought. Compare that to English—despite its shorter history, even texts from a few centuries ago could baffle contemporary readers with their archaic phrasing.