Renly disliked the performance from a moment ago, not out of affectation or trivial nitpicking, but he truly disliked it. To be precise, he abhorred it profoundly, to the point that he could barely stand to witness it.
This particular performance was evidently overly forceful.
Once he entered the state, he effortlessly transcended the boundary between reality and illusion, once again summoning those images deep within Chu Jiashu's memories. This was even more vivid and lifelike than the time in "Buried", for it wasn't a simulated recollection; it was the life he had genuinely experienced.
At the instant the doctor announced the test results, all fragments of memory surged forth from the depths of his mind, engulfing him in an instant.
Throughout the entire performance, he teetered on the edge of losing control. The power of recollection was overwhelmingly potent, a myriad of tumultuous emotions clashed within his mind, rupturing bit by bit. The surging, overwhelming energy injected a profoundly infectious vitality into the performance. The disparity between Chu Jiashu and Adam gradually dissolved, and the barriers between film and reality shattered completely.
Even when Renly rewatched it, an involuntary chill ran through his limbs, as if he had once again relived that pivotal moment that had shaped his life. The innermost rejection and resistance burst forth from within him, so sharp that it pricked at every bone. His body's muscles began to tremble uncontrollably, unable to bear the agony of a soul being torn apart – a pain too excruciating to endure.
This wasn't acting; this was reality.
However, the problem lay here. This was reality, not acting.
Renly was no longer the Chu Jiashu who had heard the verdict from the doctor for the first time. He knew what he was about to face, understood how long the next ten years would be. He comprehended the profound impact this single decision would have on his life, the agony, the anger, the despair, the struggle. Every day of those ten years left an indelible mark on his soul.
But the Chu Jiashu who had just received the diagnosis had no idea.
The same applied to Will. The present Will was different from the Will of the past. Reflecting on those scenes now, everything was so clear, yet simultaneously muddled.
Scientists had once conducted in-depth studies, reaching the conclusion that memories could deceive.
Take, for instance, lovers quarreling. In the same scenario, the visualizations in each person's memory would differ significantly. This wasn't surprising, given that everyone's perspective differed. Interestingly, if the quarrel scene were recorded, both partners would narrate the process, and then the recording would be replayed for them, discrepancies from their accounts and the video would emerge.
This was because each person only retained the images they desired to see, hear, and remember in their memory. Hence, the same event would present different outcomes in different people's minds; the same memory would leave distinct traces at different times.
Many memories from childhood remain only as fragments of scents, colors, and glimpses that cannot be pieced together into a complete picture. The same holds true for Renly and Will.
In the recent filming, Renly's immersion became too real, too profound, to the extent that everything he experienced over the past ten years was magnified. His anger, his frustration, his dejection, his confusion, his pain, all seemed placed under a microscope, making him relive it all over again. It was as if, after painstakingly escaping the torment of hell, he had been thrown back into the agony of the black lotus flames.
Every detail of pain was rendered with such exquisite precision and clarity.
One could say that this replicated the method of "Buried", even taking it a step further. Renly hadn't truly been buried alive, but he had indeed been sentenced to death. However, the same approach was feasible for "Buried" but not for "50/50".
In the claustrophobic environment of "Buried", all emotions were intensified tenfold, even a hundredfold. It sometimes diverged from reality, entering an ideal fantasy realm. The close-up shots penetrated the large screen, transmitting these emotions to every viewer, truly engaging their thoughts within the film. The sensation of horror and fear would send shivers down their spines.
However, in "50/50", it was deeply rooted in reality. In contrast to the rollercoaster of dramatic ups and downs, it emphasized a sense of genuine integration into life.
Furthermore, Renly knew that his reaction upon learning the diagnosis wouldn't have been so theatrical, nor would it have been as intense and overwhelming. He was acutely aware of this, and it had always been the case.
After the pronouncement of the diagnosis, that sense of unreality persisted for a long time. He knew what the result meant; the doctor's explanation had been clear. Yet, he still failed to comprehend what it signified, how great an impact it would have on his life. Those outcomes, those explanatory terms, those aftereffects—all were merely vocabulary left on paper.
It was akin to pregnancy; only when morning sickness arrived did one truly understand what pregnancy entailed. In fact, high-level paralysis or cancer, they were similar in this regard.
Will was no exception. Upon learning he had cancer, he felt somewhat disoriented. He understood what cancer meant, researched online, and discovered he had a fifty percent chance of survival. His initial thought was, "Fifty percent isn't bad. That's a half chance, which is already fortunate compared to diseases with a ten percent chance, right?"
So, he began to face it optimistically, accepting chemotherapy, undergoing psychological counseling, striving to continue living.
Until one day, at a certain moment, he suddenly realized that fifty percent meant he had a fifty percent chance of continuing to live, but also a fifty percent chance of dying. Life was reaching its endpoint. At that moment, death became clearer than ever before, and cancer became more real than ever before.
Everyone was like this, even with a ninety-nine percent success rate. Yet, when confronted, an idea would inevitably emerge: What if that one percent occurs? It was akin to a plane crash—no struggle, no resistance, no opportunity—just utter defeat.
Cancer. The sheer destructive power of this term can only be understood by those who have experienced it firsthand; for most people, it's just the name of a disease.
Hence, when the doctor delivered the diagnosis, that sense of bewilderment, that chaos, that confusion, was indeed a tangled mess. He understood he was in trouble, but he had no idea what kind of change this trouble would bring about.
All of this, Renly had already figured out before the official shooting began. However, once he delved into the performance, his emotions surged uncontrollably, too intense, and too fervent, disrupting the rhythm of the entire act.
This was one characteristic of method acting—it often became hard to control, bursting forth with dazzling sparks in an irrational manner, an intense chemical reaction impossible to ignore, a frenzy that somehow brought life.
If it resonated with the character, it would be astonishing, like Daniel Day-Lewis's performance in "There Will Be Blood", sending shivers down one's spine. Yet, if it deviated from the character, if it was excessively forceful or veered off the script, overshadowing the essence, it would be a disaster—Leonardo DiCaprio's performance in "J. Edgar" was a quintessential example.
Renly had just experienced this.
The entire performance not only deviated from its track but also severely lost its equilibrium, saturating the scene with a ferocity that went too far. This imbalance, paradoxically, caused the brimming emotions to lose their authenticity.
The so-called method acting demanded losing control, yet not total control loss. More accurately, it required immersing oneself in the role, truly comprehending the character. A character should display emotions that correspond to the given point in time; that's the correct approach. If one loses control all the time, they'd be a lunatic, not a regular person.
Heath Ledger's portrayal of the Joker in "The Dark Knight" earned him the title of a method acting representative. As mad as he was cunning, it was because he showcased the Joker's style of mockery, disdain, playfulness, and sarcasm. The core of his performance lay in the chilling indifference and arrogance rooted in his soul.
The Joker was an anarchist who disregarded societal norms, ethics, and moral complexities. In Heath's performance, the Joker wasn't a reckless lunatic, but composed and collected, masterfully toying with everyone, adorned with the unique clownish humor and mockery. Even a simple line like "Why so serious?" created a chilling villainous effect through its casual tone.
In the later work "Suicide Squad", Jared Leto's rendition of the Joker caused a decline in overall quality.
Of course, factors like substantial cuts made by the production must be taken into consideration. Objectively speaking, Jared Leto's version of the Joker relied excessively on external elements. His appearance and demeanor frequently broke the rules, revealing a flamboyant and unrestrained attitude. However, the character of the Joker itself, including his gaze, lines, actions, and so on, showed overly conspicuous traces, an overt intentionality, thus missing the Joker's intrinsic qualities of carefree recklessness and audacious assertiveness. Style without substance.
Renly believed his own performance was like that of a madman.
Utterly subpar, utterly disappointing, Renly was dissatisfied with himself—very dissatisfied. What he needed was an explosive force after losing control, not a loss of understanding and mastery over the character.
This kind of performance was truly amateurish. Although Renly was fully aware that he still needed to gradually explore on the path of acting and understood that he must return to basics, refining his fundamentals—"50/50" and "Detachment" were the perfect opportunities—today's blunt reminder truly made Renly realize he had been getting carried away.
Success across three consecutive works, all showered in acclaim—everyone hailed him as a genius in acting. He truly felt proud of himself, even if he didn't show it on the surface. But deep within, there was inevitably a hint of complacency.
In the face of skepticism from George and Elizabeth, he had finally carved out a realm of his own; after the tedium and oppression of his past life, he had finally found a rebirth.
But based on that performance just now, it was enough to jolt Renly back to reality. Truly an abysmal mess!