Even as a director, the scene they had just performed left Rodrigo utterly astonished.
In reality, during the performance, Renly had altered his lines, improvising many parts, especially noticeable during the final stages. In the script, after Paul's shock, there were still lines for him, where he couldn't help but utter profanities. Furthermore, after his despair, he needed to say, "You people can't just wash your hands of this. You bastards put me here." which led to the response of "I'm sorry" from the other end of the phone.
But in the actual performance, Renly remained completely silent, omitting all the lines. He relied solely on the subtlety of his gaze and the changes in his breath to vividly portray the emotions of despair and helplessness. More shocking than angry retorts, more impactful than resentful accusations, this soundless disillusionment brought an even more overwhelming impact. The faint smile at the corner of his mouth amplified this mockery and impotence to the fullest.
The power of the performance was magnified to its zenith at this moment. The immense aura even affected the actor in the scene, Àlex Vilaragrasa. He was only present as an assistant on-site, and professional actors would rerecord the voice on the other end of the phone later. Yet, even Àlex, who wasn't even considered an amateur actor, deeply felt that supremely suppressed despair. This made his vocal performance brim with vitality.
After containing the suppressed emotions, an exponential surge of energy burst forth, leaving every observer in a state of shock.
Rodrigo had to admit that Renly's performance had surpassed the script and reached a higher level. It wasn't just the final scene; the entire act was like this. There were no traces of refinement, the whole performance flowed seamlessly and effortlessly, yet it elicited a profound introspection from the audience:
Paul's sense of responsibility towards his family was his deepest motivation. Even though the audience might not understand what went wrong between him and Linda, given that she hadn't answered the phone and the company had maliciously accused Paul of having an affair with Pamela, the audience could deeply sense Paul's dedication and affection for his family. He might have made some wrong choices, his personality might not be entirely likable, but without a doubt, he was a good family man.
He had chosen to come to Iraq for the sake of his family, and now he was facing his demise here.
The indifference of the large corporation towards the powerless and low-ranking employees was chilling. Not only were they unproductive, but they were also doing everything in their power to shift blame. The coldness and cruelty driven by interests were portrayed in full clarity through this phone conversation. Stripping away the sugar-coated exterior revealed the sinister nature of profit maximization. Every employee was merely their tool, even Alan, the HR manager making the call. Before the machinery of the state and large institutions, individuals were as insignificant as ants.
He had believed in the company's shelter when he came to Iraq, and now even his right to compensation after death was stripped away.
Taking it further, then what differentiated these large corporations from the government?
In this scene, Rodrigo clearly sensed the two layers of performance as Renly had mentioned: one layer of genuine emotion and another of Paul's character attributes. Yet, the restrained performance carried such astounding energy. The power of acting made his soul tremble.
Even though he was the director, Rodrigo thought he wouldn't be further astonished, that he had grown accustomed to Renly's performance, and that Renly couldn't possibly excel further. But evidently, he was wrong.
Turning around, the other crew members remained stunned in their tracks. They seemed either unable to wrap their minds around it or stunned beyond belief. Each of them stood there, dazed, as if their souls had left their bodies, lost and bewildered. Especially Àlex. He appeared as if he couldn't come back to reality, his face utterly blank, lost.
Rodrigo looked at Renly once again, his concern not concealed in his eyes. Despite the unexpectedly high quality of the shot, which had submerged him in wild joy, Renly's state... even an acting novice could see it was bad, very bad. It was as if he had personally experienced Paul's torment.
"Renly, are you sure you don't need a good rest?" Rodrigo inquired once again.
Renly lay back down, the weariness in his eyes impossible to hide. He gently shook his head, yet his head seemed as heavy as a thousand pounds. If such a simple motion nearly exhausted his entire body's strength, the fatigue from running on fumes made one anxious. "Let's continue filming. Let's finish work early, then I can have a nice long vacation, a real one."
That sardonic voice lacked strength, even the curve of the smile at the corner of his lips seemed like a wisp of smoke, as though it could dissipate at any moment.
Rodrigo wanted to say something more, but Renly had already picked up the script once again. Lying in the coffin, he began to peruse it, preparing for the next scene. The words of dissuasion were ultimately lodged in Rodrigo's throat. He turned and raised his voice, shouting, "Next scene! Get ready!"
The only thing he could do now was expedite the filming process and wrap up as soon as possible. After concluding all the work, Renly could finally rest.
Renly knew that he wasn't in the right state now. His terrible sleep quality had been drawing on his physical strength. The haziness that prevented him from distinguishing between illusion and reality was incredibly perilous. He knew he was losing control.
Initially, he thought he could manage the situation. After all, he came from a background of expressive acting. Even if he tried to approach it methodically, there wouldn't be too many surprises. It was more likely that he couldn't break free from his own framework. While performing, he would inadvertently revert back to his expressive acting style. Because that was the performance approach he was most familiar with, his attempt to blend the two methods failed.
However, in reality, after delving into the character using a method acting approach, things began to slip out of control. In his mind, he couldn't help but associate with the experience of being confined before. Those eight hours seemed as long as a century, yet as fleeting as a moment. It was deeply etched in the recesses of his mind, walking within every cell of his body. During the acting process, an invisible thread seemed to tug at him, involuntarily directing his movements. All his performances appeared to come naturally, passing off the fake as real. Before his brain could process, his body's instincts had already reacted. Even the well-memorized lines had become a part of his body, flowing out unconsciously.
It was as if an unbridled wild horse had been let loose, and any force of control was inconsequential. But what was worse, he was losing even the thought of control now. Everything was happening so naturally, any surplus control would affect the direction, making the performance derail. Releasing the brake, he allowed himself to enjoy this turbulent journey, and paradoxically, it felt more effortless and authentic. The concept of control now sounded like a colossal joke.
Things were becoming increasingly unpredictable. He should stop, he should stop immediately, as Rodrigo suggested, and take a good rest.
But he didn't want to.
In the very last moments of the scene just now, a subconscious force suppressed his urge to speak, and he sank into silence. He didn't know why, but he followed the guidance of reason, cutting off all words and allowing his emotions to ferment slowly in silence.
This state was quite remarkable, a complete contrast to "The Pacific War." Back then, he was controlling the rhythm of the performance, but upon seeing that dying woman, his emotions began to slip out of control, as if he had truly entered Eugene's world. Just now, he was amidst chaos, confusion, and a lack of control, yet he managed to grasp the final thread of reason, drawing back his emotions. This momentary control made all the chaotic order become clear.
Upon reflection, it was actually what he had sensed while reading the script. He believed that silence often spoke louder than words.
If he followed the script's guidance, Paul's outburst of swearing and powerless accusations would indeed be appropriate and in line with the screenwriter's characterization of Paul. Moreover, it would make the central theme of the whole sequence evident. However, he believed this would be an inferior approach. Truly exceptional scripts weren't preachy in style, but rather, they invoked reflection through the force of the storyline itself, leaving the audience to ponder on their own, rather than dictating how they should think. Hence, silence held more power and could elevate the core of the entire movie.
During the performance, in the final moments, pulling on the reins at the brink of the precipice, the runaway reins returned to his hands. The scene of the galloping horses instantly became organized, even if just for a moment. The fresh new world that appeared before him was astonishing, a scene of indescribable wonder. This made Renly realize that the ethereal attempt was indeed real, and he could do it!
So, even if he still couldn't determine the distinction between reality and dreams, even if it was highly likely that all of this was still Paul's dream, he was still trapped in the coffin, or perhaps it was Renly's dream in the hotel room, where he dreamt of completing an outstanding shoot. Even if he still couldn't define his identity, the boundary between Paul and Renly seemed to have faded, the fragments of memories leaving him utterly exhausted. Even if his physical and mental energies had reached their limits, teetering on the edge of collapse...
He still didn't want to give up. He wanted to grasp that fleeting inspiration from just now, to continue exploring this path, pushing open the door to a whole new world, glimpsing those mysterious and profound, yet wondrous sights. Madness is what keeps us alive, isn't it?
Closing his eyes once again, Renly plunged into the agony of struggle, as if his soul had been torn in half—half Paul, half Renly; half film, half reality. The searing pain felt as if it had directly shattered his brain, forcefully prying it open. The surging agony swept over him, causing every muscle in his body to tremble slightly. Sweat began to bead on his forehead, gradually seeping through.
Standing at the entrance of darkness, he wasn't sure if the other side held nightmares or reality, despair or hope. But he gritted his teeth, took another step forward, resolute and determined.