The scathing mockery caused an uproar throughout the venue. Security personnel kept a close eye on Leon, fearing the notorious singer might do something irrational in the heat of the moment.
The Oscars have a long history of "stunts."
Political declarations and accusations against the ruling party happen from time to time.
In 1973, Marlon Brando won Best Actor for The Godfather.
To everyone's shock, he refused the award and sent a Native American activist on stage to speak for him.
He righteously declared: "The motion picture community has been as responsible as any for degrading the Indian and making a mockery of his character, describing him as savage, hostile and evil."
But a personal attack targeted at an individual like Will Smith's today was indeed rare.
Ludovic Bource, the composer for The Artist, awkwardly accepted the trophy. Will straightened his jacket and strutted off the stage like a victorious rooster.
This series of out-of-line behaviors seriously damaged goodwill. Hollywood is a place that values decorum; at least on the surface, you have to keep up appearances.
In contrast, Leon's gracious and elegant attitude in the face of accusations changed the guests' opinion of him significantly.
Michael Bay made his way from the first row and patted him on the shoulder. "Will might have had too much to drink. I'm sorry this happened."
He and Will started collaborating on Bad Boys in 1995, which was also the starting point of the latter's superstar path.
Since then, the two became good friends.
The latter's character had always been criticized, especially after successfully transitioning to movies, intentionally cutting ties with the third-rate rappers he used to call brothers.
But Will's attitude toward big stars and big directors was a completely different face; he was just white trash in black skin.
"It's fine. I like watching circus performances." Leon shrugged, uninterested in the goodwill extended by the big director.
Host Billy Crystal returned to the stage, coughing awkwardly twice. What just happened was completely off-script.
But he quickly demonstrated the adaptability of a professional comedian, diffusing the awkwardness with humor:
"Mr. Will Smith's remarks about plantation owners were very interesting. I guess it was a reaction to Jamie Foxx stealing the lead role in Django Unchained."
Quentin Tarantino sat in the audience, shooting a helpless look at Leon—you two Smiths are acting up, why am I catching strays?
The awards ceremony continued as usual. Leonardo DiCaprio, as a presenter, was preparing to go on stage when he caught a glimpse of Anya out of the corner of his eye.
The fair-skinned, tall British girl immediately captured all his attention.
"Hello, miss. Nice to meet you." Leonardo's eyes lit up as he elegantly extended his right hand. "The whole venue shines because of your presence."
Anya was stunned for two seconds. His fuller figure almost made her forget what Jack looked like in Titanic.
She completely didn't expect this superstar to greet her proactively. She quickly stood up, "It's an honor to meet you!"
The two chatted for a bit. When he learned Anya was only 16, the light in Leonardo's eyes was like a laser; he couldn't hold back anymore.
"Let's find a time. I have a lot of experience I can guide young actresses with."
Just as Leonardo was getting carried away, he suddenly noticed Leon smiling at him from about a meter away.
The smile made him shudder.
Leonardo quickly found an excuse to flee, taking small steps toward the stage.
He was depressed as hell: Why does every girl he targets have this jinx following them around?
Halfway through the ceremony, the next award was the one Leon cared about most: "Best Original Screenplay."
Compared to Best Picture, Best Actor/Actress, and Director, this was considered a mid-tier award, but winning at the star-studded Oscar night was already amazing.
Leon didn't dare hope for Best Picture, holding his breath.
"The winner of the 84th Academy Award for Best Original Screenplay is..."
"Congratulations, Straight Outta Compton!"
Instantly, everyone around Leon exploded.
"F! I knew we could do it!"
"Bro, we did it! Poor kids from Brownsville standing on the Oscar stage!"
Jason Mitchell wept with joy, hugging Boseman tightly.
Kendrick tried to lift James Wan but found that his equally skinny self couldn't do it no matter what.
Anya stood up and applauded non-stop. The pale British girl stood out among the group of black actors. "Congratulations, Boss!"
Weinstein, who had considered the award in the bag, turned his head in astonishment to look at Leon, gritting his teeth as he said to Jeff beside him, "Beautiful PR strategy."
Jeff quickly explained, "No, winning was just luck."
Two weeks before the Oscar voting results came out, a large number of soft articles attacking Weinstein and Woody Allen's sexual scandals appeared on social media.
At first, it didn't cause a sensation until the retweets skyrocketed, forcing Academy members with voting rights to re-evaluate who to vote for.
This turmoil led to Woody Allen not bringing his wife Soon-Yi Previn today, keeping a black face and remaining silent the whole time.
Weinstein curled his lip, threatening with hidden daggers in his words: "Luck? Victory achieved by luck will have to be paid for sooner or later."
As the main creator of the script, Leon went on stage to speak on behalf of the crew.
He first kissed the trophy, his gaze sweeping over the audience below. "I show everyone what true racial equality is. The three leads of Straight Outta Compton are all black. My good friend Jason Mitchell comes from Brownsville just like me, and now he is sharing the Oscar with me!"
Yeah—
The guests applauded one after another, looking toward the crew.
Not just the leads, the ten actors present were all black without exception, and the director was an Asian kid.
An all-non-white lineup was unprecedented in Oscar history; facts were more persuasive than any pale words.
"Winning wasn't my original intention for creating this movie..." The following speech adhered to Leon's consistent character—making movies is for positive energy; winning awards is just a bonus.
Compared to Will Smith's speech just now, the difference in class was obvious at a glance.
But the audience was soon slapped in the face. How could the notorious Street Jesus take a hit without fighting back?
With the last minute of speaking time left, Leon pointed the spearhead at Will's wife, Jada. "Jada, parents have no right to interfere with their children's choices. Let Jaden be who he wants to be."
Jada rolled her eyes in the audience; she couldn't refute these words.
Hollywood, as a solid leftist camp, meant refuting this would be politically incorrect.
Watching Will's expression twist like he ate a bug, Leon smiled: "I suggest you dress more decently in front of your kid's friends and keep some distance from them. You can't bring scenes from Brazzers movies into real life..."
The whole venue instantly buzzed with discussion. There had always been rumors on Bluebird about Jada's improper behavior—she always liked to act too flirtatious in front of young people.
At this moment, something unexpected happened. Will roared at the stage: "Keep my wife's name out of your fing mouth!"
"Keep my wife's name out of your fing mouth!!!"
The roar was repeated twice, each wave higher than the last.
Everyone stopped discussing, casting shocked glances at the indignant Will.
Leon deliberately tilted his ear, smiling cheekily: "What did you say? I think you misunderstood, Will. I don't have any special fetishes; I'm not interested in your wife."
Amid the fierce verbal exchange, Will suddenly strode toward the stage swinging his arms, exactly like the arrogant cop Mike Lowrey he played in Bad Boys.
"What does he want to do? Grab Leon's mic?"
"Focus! Don't miss a single shot!"
Reporters whispered. Although they didn't know what Will was going to do, their professional instincts told them something big was coming!
Leon also couldn't guess what this ngga wanted to do, raising an eyebrow and staring at Will in confusion.
Whoosh—
Will's movement had no warning signs; he raised his right hand and swung it at Leon.
Years of fitness made him exceptionally confident in his agility, but he was obviously overconfident.
Muscle size and fighting ability aren't that deeply correlated.
Almost at the same time he raised his hand, Leon raised his left hand in a standard boxing guard to block.
Immediately after, a silky smooth counter-slap went back.
Smack.
The silence in the venue allowed everyone to hear the slap clearly.
Will was slapped into a daze, freezing in place with no reaction.
A bright red five-finger mark gradually became clear on his face.
About two seconds later, Will reacted. Humiliation and pain caused him to lose his reason, tears almost bursting from his eyes.
The whole process took less than five seconds, but everything was broadcast live.
The black superstar with the most box office appeal in history was slapped at the Oscars. This would probably become a shadow over his entire life.
"Bastard!"
Red-eyed, Will rushed at Leon. Seeing the situation about to escalate, security guards hurriedly rushed onto the stage to pull the two apart.
"Let me go! I'll say it one last time!" Will acted like a red-eyed fighting dog, trying his best to act hysterical to regain face.
In contrast, Leon looked relaxed, raising his hands with a smile. "That was just a subconscious counterattack..."
At this moment, no one cared who won Best Actor or which movie took Best Picture.
No movie could generate more buzz than what just happened.
"This is absolutely the most chaotic Oscar in history..." Reporters snapped photos frantically, unwilling to miss a single frame.
To prevent unexpected situations from happening again, the Academy resolutely asked Leon and Will to leave the venue.
The Straight Outta Compton crew immediately expressed protest, following closely back to the backstage area.
"That bastard is really crazy. If James hadn't held me back, I would have gone up and kicked his ass!" Jason Mitchell waved his fist.
"You looked so cool slapping that bastard, Bro..." The one feeling most relieved right now was Kendrick.
Being slapped by Will at a celebrity dinner half a year ago had become a lingering nightmare for him.
It nearly ruined his rap career, causing him to often stumble when writing tough lyrics.
Jeff also followed back backstage, shaking his head while smiling. "You seem to find trouble wherever you go. Weinstein will hate you to death. No one will remember how many awards The Artist won tonight; they only know you slapped Will Smith."
He paused and added: "In front of hundreds of millions of viewers globally, this wave of heat rivals the killing of Bin Laden."
Just as Jeff predicted, as soon as Leon walked out of the Hollywood & Highland Center, a swarm of reporters surrounded him like a zombie tide.
Holding an Oscar statuette, he was like a Roman general in a triumph, waving and interacting with the crowd.
"Mr. Leon, why do you think Will acted so irrationally?"
"Such a thing has never happened in Oscar history. Everyone wants to know what you were thinking when you swung that slap?"
Jorge ordered the security team to clear a path. Before getting in the car, Leon turned his head and said: "Stop hyping this up. It was just a subconscious counterattack. I used to box."
With that, he rode the limousine away.
At noon the next day, as soon as Leon returned to Brooklyn, he saw the desk piled with newspapers.
No one was discussing The Artist, which swept five major awards including Best Picture, Best Director, and Best Actor.
The headlines were, without exception, multi-angle close-ups of him slapping Will Smith last night.
"Looks like this is the last time you'll be invited to the Oscars. The Academy will definitely blacklist you," Bonnie teased.
"How could they? I saved the Oscar ratings."
The Oscars, with declining ratings year by year, saw explosive growth, especially at the moment the slap occurred—viewership surged by 15 million.
Creating a peak not seen in over a decade.
Oscar app downloads surged nearly 20 times compared to last year.
Ten minutes later, Russell walked into the office.
Unlike others' complaints and teasing, he seemed especially excited. "Beautiful work! That slap was way more useful than that piece of scrap metal!"
The Purge had wrapped up last week, and editing and scoring had entered the final stage.
As a low-budget experimental work, after discussion, the company unanimously decided to follow Saw's example: skip film festivals and go straight to theaters.
Ride the wave while it's hot. With Leon's name on the producer list, a large number of viewers would definitely be willing to buy tickets.
"Can we achieve a wide release in theaters in half a month?" Leon brewed a cup of black tea and blew on it.
Around the New Year, record sales royalties, commercial endorsements, and Yeezy sales blossomed, making his income quite substantial. His account funds once exceeded 100 million dollars.
But with subsequent investments in movies, producing Ariana's new album, buying radio station Z100... money flowed out like water.
Now his liquid capital was only 47 million dollars.
He urgently needed to see investment returns; otherwise, the follow-up investment for Ready Player One alone would force him to bow to financial institutions.
"If the MPAA doesn't trip us up, then no problem." Russell sighed. "We got rated NC-17. This will hugely affect our box office."
"That is indeed very unreasonable."
Although The Purge had a large scale, it was mostly the concept and core that were dark; the amount of gore wasn't too excessive.
Compared to Saw, it could only be considered mild, yet the latter was only rated R.
Leon could figure out where the problem lay with his toes; the movie's core was somewhat anti-capitalist, and the film association definitely didn't like this gimmick.
"Think of a way. Cut some content. If it still doesn't pass, work on those bastards at the MPAA. You should know what to do."
"Don't worry, leave it to me."
"Any good ideas for pre-release promotion?" Leon asked.
For a low-budget movie released in a hurry, promotion could be simple but not absent. Audiences won't pay for works with zero anticipation.
"You standing up for the film solves all promotional problems." Russell grinned. "Even people in Africa are discussing your name. You're more famous than the President right now."
"News I got from a friend—Will is already undergoing psychological therapy because of last night."