Chapter 48: Juliette Binoche
Bruce saw someone about to enter, so he said goodbye to Ruby. He had just hung up when he heard Harvey's slightly surprised voice from the doorway: "Bruce, I didn't expect you to be here!"
Bruce was about to greet Harvey, but he froze—because behind Harvey he could clearly see none other than Juliette Binoche.
Past and present, the countless classic images of this French national treasure actress flashed through Bruce's mind. In the '90s Juliette stood at the peak of both career and beauty, yet comparing the real woman before him to the screen version in his memory, Bruce felt the camera had never fully captured all of her beauty.
Behind Juliette were two others: Cynthia and an unfamiliar woman.
Almost instinctively Bruce walked toward Juliette.
"Hi, Juliette!" His voice carried sincere delight and just the right touch of excitement.
"Hi!" Juliette Binoche answered reflexively. Her deep, expressive eyes held a friendly surprise; she hadn't expected a stranger to greet her so naturally. Her gaze rested on him, gentle and inquisitive.
Harvey turned to introduce them: "This is Bruce White, the screenwriter of Inglourious Basterds, the one we just mentioned."
Then Harvey introduced the unfamiliar woman beside her—Anna, Juliette's personal assistant and agent.
After greeting Anna and Cynthia, Bruce said to Juliette, "I'm truly honored you're starring in a film I wrote!"
The surprise in Juliette Binoche's lovely eyes—sparked by his sudden greeting—turned to dawning comprehension and keen interest. "Oh!" she exclaimed, a sincere, charming smile blooming as she extended her hand. "Sorry, I thought you were a fan who'd managed to sneak in to wait for me!" Her voice carried that unique, slightly husky French accent—utterly captivating.
Bruce clasped her hand immediately, meeting her eyes with a warm, genuine smile. "Juliette, you're right—I am your fan, the most devoted kind. My favorite film of yours is The Lovers on the Bridge..."
Juliette tilted her head slightly, curiosity and anticipation on her face, clearly eager to hear what this screenwriter-fan thought of her signature work.
"Your performance in that film is a silent epic. The character Michèle—a forgotten street artist—her pain and obsession, despair and hope... all those surging emotions you barely express through dialogue." Bruce recalled the movie's heart-wrenching shots.
"What struck me most were the close-ups," he continued, voice immersed in the memory. "Your eyes carried everything. When Michèle stares at the fire beneath the bridge or curls up in the cold wind along the Seine, I could feel loneliness and inexpressible longing almost flowing off the screen. That wasn't acting, Juliette—it felt like the materialization of a soul."
When he finished, Harvey laughed and told Juliette, "See? Like Quentin, this guy's a hardcore cinephile first, an artist second."
But Juliette didn't laugh. During Bruce's words her smile had slowly faded, replaced by focus and emotion. She'd heard countless compliments, yet never one that so precisely captured the essence of her craft—the explosion within silence—and elevated it to art and soul. It was the first time.
It made her feel a creator's profound understanding of another creator.
Juliette's gaze softened, warmed by being truly understood. "Bruce, thank you—really. Hearing you understand Michèle, understand that film so deeply, means the world to me. It was indeed an immersive, demanding journey."
Harvey watched, shrewd eyes flicking between them, keenly sensing the artistic connection instantly forged—exactly what he wanted. He smoothly interjected, "See, Juliette, I told you Bruce is a genius screenwriter who can craft the most complex, moving characters! Your artistic sensibilities are perfectly aligned.
I'm sure you'll turn Inglourious Basterds' Shosanna into the most iconic role. With Bruce's script, your performance, and Quentin at the helm, how could the film not be a hit?"
"Bruce," Juliette offered her hand again, "I'm honored to play Shosanna. I hope we have more chances to collaborate in the future—I mean it. Your stories resonate with me perfectly."
Bruce took her hand once more, beaming. "The honor is mine, Juliette. I can't wait to see how you'll bring her to life."
Learning that Juliette had come to Miramax today to negotiate her contract with Harvey, Bruce excused himself and left the office.
Outside, he returned to the waiting area by the soundstage and found Joey had finished his screen test and was waiting.
Joey stood when Bruce entered. "Where'd you go, Bruce? I thought you'd left, but your car was still parked outside."
"Sorry, Joey. I ran into Bob and Juliette Binoche, so I got held up. We can head back now!"
Joey lit up. "Juliette Binoche? Where? I want to meet her!"
"She's in a meeting with Harvey. Who knows when it'll end? If you want to see her, we'll have to wait around."
Joey's excitement cooled. "Maybe next time. I've waited long enough today—I'm not waiting for anyone else!"
He started for the exit; Bruce followed. "You'll see her on set anyway. You're both in Inglourious Basterds now. So—how was the screen test?"
"Awesome. Quentin's thrilled with it. I can't wait to see Donny Donowitz on screen—it's my first big-budget film. I've already decided: on premiere night I'm bringing the whole gang, especially my sisters. They'll be over the moon. So—what happened after you saw Bob?"
"Let's just say he's no longer with Miramax."
Joey gasped. "You fired him?"
"No—only Harvey has that power. Bob chose to quit."
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