The humming sound echoed in his ears as the plane slowly took off, departing from Kennedy Airport. Below, the forest of steel beams sprawled out in an intricate pattern. The Hudson River, a tranquil shade of blue, flowed silently, encircling Manhattan Island like glaciers that had settled for millions of years. It isolated the island, lonely and desolate, from the rest of the world.
The harshness and desolation of winter, under the grayish-blue buildings and the sky, gradually spread, leaving an indelible mark on this city, always so distinct and profound. When living here, one always wanted to leave, but when leaving, they started missing it.
Today, Renly left New York for Seattle, preparing to join the filming of "50/50".
Originally scheduled to attend the Gotham Independent Film Awards this weekend, the plans couldn't keep up with changes. A sudden unexpected situation ultimately led Renly to miss the award ceremony.
For this, Renly personally called the organizing committee to express his apologies and regrets.
The committee of the Gotham Independent Film Festival was quite surprised. They weren't the Golden Globes or the Oscars. Their influence was rather limited, and absent guests were not in short supply every year. The best response they usually got was an email from the agent expressing apologies, and in many cases, the absence went unnoticed. Renly's serious and courteous gesture displayed ample respect.
Not only that, when the committee learned that Renly had to miss the event because he was filming another independent project, it made the situation more relatable.
In the end, Paul attended the award ceremony on Saturday night on behalf of Renly and went up on stage to receive the Best Breakthrough Actor award of the year.
The results had been announced a week before the award ceremony. With his exceptional performance in "Buried", Renly had triumphed over Jennifer Lawrence with an absolute advantage, once again gaining recognition in the independent film world.
Missing the Gotham Award was indeed regrettable for Renly, but as he sat on the plane, his thoughts had already shifted into the mode of performance, or rather, into the state of recollection.
"50/50" and "Detachment" were two entirely different films, not in terms of style, genre, or type, but in terms of the approach to acting, especially Renly's approach.
Up to this point, the four films Renly had appeared in each had their unique characteristics and challenges. However, one thing was certain: he had been constantly exploring the fusion of interpretive and method acting.
Finding the precise balance between losing control and maintaining control, between eruption and restraint, between immersion and objectivity, between madness and reason—it wasn't just about interpreting the role or delivering a performance. It was about injecting vivid and rich tension into the character, allowing the character and the story to complement each other, infusing the character with a distinctive and profound personality, and leaving his own mark on the role.
This was not an easy task.
Looking back at his previous four works, especially the three that had already been released, Renly could identify varying degrees of flaws. If he were to perform them again, he would be more mature, and the details would undoubtedly differ.
"The Pacific" was too restrained, exquisite in excess, lacking in eruption. The character lacked the burst of power that comes with clenching a fist.
"Buried" was too released, with certain emotional details intentionally magnified, adding drama but also slightly distorting reality. The marks of refinement became evident.
"Like Crazy" was too immersed, and his personal style gradually blurred. At certain moments, traces of Drake Doremus could be seen, with a slight lack of distinction.
Of course, Renly knew he was just at the beginning of his acting journey. It was impossible to become a master overnight. He needed to progress step by step, accumulating experience and honing his craft. There were no shortcuts; the only way was to diligently and earnestly refine his skills, staying grounded and focused on the fundamentals.
So, Renly realized he had been a bit too eager. He hadn't even learned how to regulate his breathing while running, yet he was already thinking about flying. In just one year of being an actor, he had achieved quite a bit, but it was evident that the urgency accumulated from two lifetimes made him eager to prove himself, achieve his dreams, and advance in skill. However, this was putting the cart before the horse, neglecting the solid foundation of basic skills.
This was one of the significant reasons why Renly readily accepted the script for "Detachment".
"Detachment" could be considered Renly's final exam, a chance to peel away all the showiness and return to the formal learning phase of the academy.
Starting from the basics, he would learn how to analyze the expression of each emotion, the progression of emotions, the deepening and transitioning, the layers of richness, and the eruption and restraint. He would go back to the basics of lines, expressions, gazes, and body language, thoroughly polishing the diverse skills of the actor.
It could be foreseen that this would be an arduous challenge. For any actor, scrutinizing their performance under a magnifying glass was a terrifying ordeal with no room for error.
And "50/50" was the opposite extreme, a completely new territory, yet a familiar one as well: method acting.
The reason it was called unfamiliar was because Renly had never truly studied the system of method acting. He hadn't attended method acting classes in the United States or Russia, nor had he systematically learned it. The method acting system—how to study characters, analyze scripts, expand backgrounds—Renly knew nothing about it. He could only rely on his own understanding and guesswork to complete it.
However, Renly was certain that the most crucial aspect of method acting was empathy and shifting perspective. He had to place himself in the character's position, reevaluating the world, at least as constructed by the script.
The reason it was called familiar was due to this.
In "50/50", Renly was going to portray himself, or at least a part of his former self. He could resonate with the character effortlessly, empathizing.
This meant that during the performance, the boundary between reality and illusion didn't truly exist.
But the problem was that this wasn't Chu Jiashu's story, nor was it Will Reiser's story. This was Adam's story. Even if the script drew from life, it remained a film's story. The details and plot inevitably deviated from reality. Hence, the boundary between reality and illusion had to exist.
How to wholeheartedly immerse himself, how to tell the story in the midst of madness, how to avoid turning Adam into Chu Jiashu... undoubtedly, for Renly, this posed an unimaginably daunting challenge.
Renly wanted to polish his fundamental skills thoroughly, and now, he had the best opportunity.
One work epitomized the art of expression, while the other represented the pinnacle of method acting. Before attempting to merge these two styles of performance, Renly had won the chance to meticulously refine and contemplate each approach, experiencing them fully. When both techniques matured, Renly might gain entirely different experiences, glimpsing higher realms of the acting world.
Gazing at the window, where the gradually shrinking New York City resembled a toy city, it seemed as if it were a virtual society like the one in "The Truman Show". This gradually disconnected Renly from reality, plunging him into a strange state of unreality. That unreal theatrical sensation surged in his mind.
When he opened his eyes, it wasn't his vision that the brain awakened first, but his hearing. A cacophony of various noises reached his ears—angry curses, irritated mutterings, mournful sobs—all jumbled together, making it indistinguishable, feeling like he was in a place that was neither exactly a market nor not a market.
Then, he heard the doctor explaining—the explanation about the accident, the explanation about the surgery, the explanation about the current situation... a long-winded pile that he didn't actually hear. It was as though he sat within a large bubble, seeing some scenes but shrouded in a halo of light; hearing some sounds, but the sounds came with an unclear echo.
In the corner of his vision, he saw Ding Yanan standing at the foot of the bed.
The usually well-kept and neat hair became disheveled, strands on both sides of her cheeks in disarray, her bun loosened and unattended. Her right hand covered her mouth, obscuring most of her expression, concealing her true emotions. Her frail shoulders stood resolute and strong, yet the weight of despair pressed so heavily that it felt suffocating, as if her shoulders were about to give in.
And those eyes—bloodshot eyes, the tears that had just been wiped away still left a trace of moisture. The deep-seated sorrow and pain welled up, overwhelming, as if one could see the world collapsing in a spectacular wave.
Then he heard the doctor's explanation, "Quadriplegia."
He wasn't a medical student, but he understood the term, knew what it meant. Yet, he didn't feel any real sensation; instead, he was thinking about trivial matters.
The first thought that popped into his mind was, "What about the job interview? I missed that interview today. Should I call and apologize? Otherwise, it's so impolite."
It wasn't until much later that he suddenly felt the urge to urinate. He wanted to get up and use the restroom, but before his body could move, he was already urinating. That unexpected sense of shame hit him hard. He tried to struggle, to control it, but found all his efforts in vain. Then he froze.
He froze there like a fool, seemingly even the rotation of his brain had ceased. He remained motionless, with all sound, all colors, all movement disappearing. The world sank into chaos, leaving only that sense of shame sweeping from the soles of his feet to his forehead, suffocating.
He moved his fingers, no sensation; moved his legs, still no sensation. He began to struggle, desperately, as if his body was tied up, straining with all his might to free himself from this restraint. Yet his body didn't respond in the slightest. That panic began to spread through his limbs.