America Tycoon: The Wolf of Showbiz

That afternoon, the action scenes started filming.

Batman was to interrogate the Joker.

This was a one-sided violent beating scene, something Bale in his Batman armor had been looking forward to.

Martin sat calmly in a chair, just like the clown in front of McDonald's.

Bale walked over step by step, the Batman helmet masking his face, revealing only a chin.

No one could see the face under the mask, all filled with long-awaited anticipation.

Rocket launchers, sponge bodies, Heath Ledger, these terms flashed through Bale's mind, sliding down his nerve endings to his fists.

Black gloves concealed the bulging veins on his fists.

Bale's face hung low; his thoughts today weren't new, from the moment the crew arrived in Atlanta, he had been inspired by Leonardo, a close friend of Martin Davis.

While filming "Gangs of New York," Daniel Day Lewis was a complete jerk in and out of character, and during an action scene, Leonardo accidentally broke Lewis's nose.

Whether it was an accident, Bale wasn't clear, nor did he bother to find out, just knowing that accidents were common in filming action scenes.

Even insurance companies couldn't say anything about it.

If accidents could happen in the not-so-intense action scenes of New York Gangs, what about this action movie?

Martin looked at Bale, his face calm but prepared.

The two were already adversaries.

Heath Ledger nearly hit him and Aniston while driving under the influence, and when Bale and Blanchett pressured them to "let bygones be bygones," they had already taken opposing stances.

Bale was waiting, and Martin could roughly guess.

As the clapperboard was struck, filming began.

Bale strode towards Martin, the muscles on the exposed chin under his mask twitching rapidly, unable to mask the raging fury.

At this moment, Bale's acting was explosive, not inferior to Edward Norton wearing a mask in "Kingdom of Heaven."

Or you could say, this wasn't acting.

For this role, Bale had spent four months working out and over a month training in action, having strong muscles and agile moves.

The black fist, like lightning, smashed toward Martin's face.

According to the usual filming pattern for action scenes, the fist was merely a feint, and Martin just had to cooperate by throwing his head back.

But Martin had been targeting Bale since the beginning of the shoot, not only because of Heath Ledger's incident but because he perceived Bale's intentions.

This was Atlanta, where hundreds of extras and crew from Jerome and Robert's Marietta Agency couldn't keep anything from him.

Martin stayed fit year-round, with the Damocles sword of the Russian Mafia always hanging over his head; he and Bruce always genuinely fought when training.

As Bale's arm moved, Martin quickly dodged to the side.

The unfettered black fist swept past above his shoulder.

Martin heard the whooshing sound.

Bale's other hand reached for Martin's collar to prevent him from dodging again.

Martin swiftly ducked, headbutting Bale's hand.

Bale raised his foot to kick, but Martin thrust his legs powerfully, cooperating well as he flew backward, slamming into the shock-absorbing wall panel.

His mouth gaped wide, his face a mask of delirium, "Come on, hit me again! You piece of trash, turns out you really are soft, can't get hard."

Behind the director's monitor, Nolan heard cinematographer Pfister's voice in his earpiece, "Director?"

"Keep going," Nolan didn't call cut.

The action scene was just too good.

Batman's rage temporarily overwhelmed his usual rationality, resorting to the most direct method of violence to interrogate the Joker.

The movements of Bale and Martin were full of power, very real and natural.

Nolan knew a lot about the set's situation, but as a commercial director, these were precisely what he wanted.

The set was still under control, he was in no hurry.

With a bang, Martin flew out again voluntarily.

The punch Bale threw with all his strength seemed to hit, but the force was completely missed.

"Damn you, tell me!" Bale erupted, "Why did you do this? Why?"

Martin didn't respond, only letting out wild, maniacal laughter.

Bale lost control and picked up a nearby chair.

On the edge of the set, Bruce's body was tense, poised like a leopard about to pounce.

Martin kept on laughing maniacally.

"Cut!" Nolan's voice rang out, "This take is over!"

But the chair Bale had picked up wasn't put down, as if unable to stop due to the continuity of the action, the chair flew out of his hands toward Martin.

Martin rolled on the spot, easily dodging to one side.

Seemingly unable to break out of character, one hand pointed at Bale, his ghastly pale face split with a blood-red smile, he laughed crazily, "You're a piece of trash, you're soft, so soft!"

He rolled on the floor laughing, as if insane.

Others simply thought Martin hadn't left his role yet, but Bale knew what he was talking about.

Standing five or six meters away, Bale looked down from his superior height, the corners of his eyes twitching crazily, the muscles on his chin spasming repeatedly.

Batman was being pushed by the Joker to the verge of explosion.

Martin waited, as a good actor with professional integrity, he chose not to respond to what Bale had done during the shooting, for the time being.

But once shooting stopped and Bale made a move again...

Not far off, Elena and Holle, who had come to visit the set after noon, were silent.

Holle was holding a glass-bottled Coca-Cola.n/ô/vel/b//in dot c//om

At Northville Private Middle School, Holle was the main pitcher of the baseball team.

If he wanted to, from less than twenty meters away, he could throw the Coke bottle to Martin or smash it on someone's head at any time.

Bale took a deep breath, his clenched fists slowly relaxed, his taut body gradually loosened, and he turned to walk out of the set.

As he passed by the director's monitor, Bale casually said, "Sorry, I didn't control my actions well."

Nolan reminded him, "Keep your emotions in check, don't get too deep into the role."

As though in his eyes, all of this was an extension of acting emotions.

Martin got up from the ground, and the makeup artist came in to touch up his makeup.

Nolan gestured with his hand, and the scriptwriter hurried over immediately.

"Note this down, the latest behind-the-scenes footage." Nolan suddenly felt tired, having to direct the film, manage the conflict between two lead actors, and create material for post-production marketing; being a director was too hard.

His talent in scriptwriting was equally exceptional, "Martin Davis is a very dedicated and hardworking workaholic. For the sake of the film's shooting effect, in the scene where Batman interrogates the Joker, he had Bale hit him with full force, without any reservation, presenting an extremely realistic fighting scene."

The scriptwriter sighed inwardly at the director's spontaneous inspiration while quickly taking notes.

Because Martin was the focal point of marketing and promotion, Nolan added, "While enduring physical pain, Martin Davis's performance was truly admirable."

The scriptwriter, a member of Nolan's brother Jonathan's team, diligently recorded the "real behind-the-scenes" of the set.

After wrapping up in the afternoon, Martin joined Elena and Holle and left the studio together.

In the car, Elena asked, "Is shooting action scenes always this dangerous?"

Martin replied with a smile, "The director is a fanatic for on-site shooting, striving for realistic effects."

Holle muttered, "That guy harbors no good intentions."

Martin pointed at Bruce, who was driving, "With Old Cloth here, there won't be any trouble."

The four of them went to a nearby restaurant for dinner.

Back on the set, Bale didn't leave immediately. Like the days before, he went back to one of the studios after taking off his makeup, and with the assistance of two stunt team members, he continued his physical and action training.

Hiby could only stand by and watch her husband exert himself, sweating and expending energy.

Ever since joining the crew, Bale had been maintaining his physical condition.

After the session, one of the stuntmen said, "Chris, you're too dedicated."

Bale just smiled, went to shower and change clothes.

He met up with Hiby, and they took the car back to the hotel.

"You're pushing too hard," Hiby said.

Bale replied, "I have to give it my all."

The day's events made him realize that only by being faster and more ruthless could he possibly turn that bastard Martin into the next Daniel Day Lewis.

Hiby added, "Be careful when filming action scenes, don't get injured like at Pine Forest Film Studio again."

"I won't," Bale assured.

The incident at Pine Forest Film Studio, of course, the crew of "The Prestige" wouldn't disclose that Bale got injured out of shock during a mishap with Blanchett.

The public excuse was an accident that happened at Pine Forest due to being startled by fireworks explosions.

There were originally very few people who truly understood the inside story.

It was then overshadowed by Emma Watson's "Pee Gate" scandal and faded away.

Back at the hotel, after dinner, Hiby and Bale walked around the hotel garden for a while and then returned to their suite.

After taking a bath, Hiby deliberately put on a set of Victoria's Secret Angel attire she had brought with her, and with a model's strut, she entered the master bedroom of the suite.

Seeing her in that outfit, Bale's heart skipped a beat, and he inwardly groaned.

Hiby, walking with a model's stride, came closer and closer.

Bale felt a faint tearing pain again, a sensation like a nightmare that he could never seem to escape.

"My dear..." Hiby had rushed over from Los Angeles, full of passion.

Bale had no choice but to endure the pain and refuse, tilting as he lay down and pulling the covers over himself, "We shot all action scenes today, I'm too tired. Let's sleep early."

Hiby's face was immediately filled with disappointment, but she didn't give up and pounced on Bale.

Bale, with resignation, "My dear, can you give me some time, I'm really under a lot of pressure now..."

Hiby rolled over, lying down in the empty space, as tears unwillingly streamed down her cheeks.

Staring blankly at the ceiling, not knowing how much time had passed, the flame in Hiby hadn't dissipated. Instead, it burned brighter and hotter.

Coming back to her senses, just as she was about to check on Bale, she heard his snoring like thunder.

Bale seemed to be asleep.

Hiby glanced at his slightly trembling eyelashes and pretended not to notice, leaving the bedroom all by herself.

The door slammed shut with a bang.

Ready to go to another bedroom, Hiby saw the gift she had received and suddenly had an idea.

The Joker's figure was very distinctive.

Hiby went to the side room, opened the gift box, grasped the Joker's standing legs, and took out the statue.