In early August, with the release of the main poster for The Departed, the film's promotional tour officially began.
On the poster, Martin and Leonardo stood back to back, while a slightly blurred Jack Nicholson loomed behind them, gazing intently at the two men.
As a dual-lead film, Martin and Leonardo shared equal screen time, while Jack Nicholson's role was slightly smaller—something subtly communicated by the composition of the poster.
Even the designer took extra care with the billing, placing all three names directly beneath their respective bodies. That way, there was no room for arguments over who came first or whose name appeared higher.
During the promotional period, Martin temporarily set aside other work and joined the cast for roadshows.
Throughout the tour, he, Leonardo, and Nicholson shared plenty of on-set banter, feeding the media a steady stream of playful behind-the-scenes stories.
Boston.
After a long day of promotion, the crew returned to the hotel. Leonardo called Martin, Nicholson, and Matt Damon up to his room. "We're heading to Vegas the day after tomorrow for the next stop," he said. "So I'm throwing a party. I've invited some very well-known local dance troupes."
"Dance troupe?" Nicholson's eyes lit up. "That kind of dance?"
"You know it," Leonardo grinned.
"Need any help?" Matt Damon asked.
"Nah, I've already booked the venue and hired a party company. You guys just need to show up and enjoy yourselves."
"Just the four of us?" Martin raised a brow.
"I'll invite the whole crew," Leonardo said. "But Old Marty probably won't come, and anyone else can drop in if they feel like it."
Nicholson scoffed. "No way Old Marty's showing up. That guy used to be a wild one, but now he's completely whipped!"
"Anyway," Leonardo continued proudly, "this time I'm going to be the king of the night!"
Martin shrugged. "Sure, as long as you can handle it."
Nicholson chuckled. "Fine by me. I just don't believe you can steal all the girls like Martin did last time."
Matt Damon laughed too. "I'm good with just two."
Two days later.
Las Vegas.
Caesars Palace Hotel, top floor.
Leonardo had rented out the entire top floor—including the terrace—as the party venue.
A stage had been built over the massive swimming pool, where young, beautiful girls danced provocatively under the lights.
Besides the hired dance troupe, Leonardo had asked the party company to recruit the top party girls in Vegas to spice up the scene. To the crew, it was paradise: each person had one or two gorgeous girls clinging to them, lavishing them with the kind of attention they'd never get on an average day.
Leonardo even brought in a team of male models to pamper the female members of the crew.
Everyone was too buzzed to notice that four people were missing from the main party.
Leonardo, Nicholson, Matt Damon, and Martin had quietly slipped away.
"You actually threw a private party inside your own party," Matt Damon said, staring at the group of bunny girls now surrounding them. "That's genius."
Leonardo grinned. "I mean, I don't know those other people that well. Can't fully relax around them. It's better to let loose with you guys."
The four of them were tight—one of those bonds forged by the wildest experiences. Hollywood's version of "brothers for life."
"So," Nicholson said, glancing around. "The theme of this private party is... bunny girls? Bit basic, no?"
"Wrong," Leonardo said smugly. "The theme is the bunny girls and their king."
With that, he strode forward dramatically.
Two bunny girls whisked away a red curtain, revealing a lavishly decorated scene behind it.
"Holy crap!" Martin exclaimed.
"Isn't this the setup they use to crown kings at Westminster Abbey?" Damon added.
In the center stood a red velvet throne with gold trim, flanked by two rows of slightly lower seats on each side.
One bunny girl approached holding a tray with a scepter. Another gently placed a crown on Leonardo's head and draped a golden cape over his shoulders.
Leonardo swept forward to the throne, flicked his cape with a flourish, and sat down.
"Ministers," he said grandly. "Why don't you all take your seats?"
No sooner had he spoken than a swarm of bunny girls descended, pulling the other three to their seats with laughter and cheers.
"You bastard," Nicholson laughed. "You actually made yourself king!"
Leonardo's face suddenly turned solemn.
"Guards!" he barked. "Drag this noisy old man away and torture him!"
"Torture service?" Nicholson blinked. Before he could react, a group of bunny girls dragged him off.
"Mercy, Your Majesty! Spare me!" he cried dramatically as they disappeared down the stairs.
He wasn't worried. He already had a hunch what that "torture" involved.
Matt Damon watched enviously, briefly considering whether he should mouth off too just to get the same "punishment." But before he could speak, Leonardo clapped his hands.
"Alright, the old man's gone," he said. "Time for tonight's main event!"
Damon snapped to attention, abandoning all treasonous thoughts about His Majesty.
Bang! Bang! Bang!
Leonardo clapped, and a wave of energetic music blasted from the speakers. A line of dancers jogged in, lighting up the room with their entrance.
Matt Damon's eyes went wide. "Wait—isn't that the Lido Show troupe from Paris?!"
In Paris, most people only know of Crazy Horse and Moulin Rouge, but Lido is every bit as iconic.
Crazy Horse is known for its sensual, erotic performances.
Moulin Rouge is all high-energy glitz and chaos, with its iconic can-can dancers in petticoats and frilly bloomers, flashing legs in manic rhythm.
But Lido?
Lido is the "elegance of passion."
Founded in 1948 by dancer Margaret Kelly, the troupe became known as the Bluebell Girls, named for their signature blond hair and blue eyes.
For a time, the term "Bluebell Girl" became synonymous with the ideal Parisian woman—sexy, warm, elegant, and irresistibly charming.
While the three iconic shows have influenced and imitated each other over time, their core identities remain distinct.
And tonight, Leonardo had brought the elegance of Paris straight to Vegas.