Just as Rooney laid eyes upon the bald figure of Renly, the impact and resonance were unparalleled. However, as time flowed by, she gradually acclimated – at least on the surface of sight.
Yet now, deeper reflections surged forth. How did this bald appearance come to be, and what hidden tale of performance lay veiled behind it? Over this period, Renly had sacrificed much for "50/50", even jeopardizing his own health, a widely-known fact. So, what did this performance tonight truly signify?
Suddenly, curiosity tugged at Rooney. What would it feel like to act opposite Renly? She had seen "Buried" and heard of "Like Crazy". Tonight, she witnessed firsthand the transformation of Renly's demeanor, recalling the rumors that had once dubbed him the male lead of "The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo". If the two of them were to both secure their roles...
Oscar's trivial vexations gradually ebbed, replaced by "50/50", Renly's performance, the "The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo", and more. A surge of excitement, fleeting thoughts, all of it passed in a blink. Rooney pursed her lips and gestured in a direction. "If you're uncertain where to start, I believe this might be a good choice."
Renly followed Rooney's gaze and saw the half-torn cigarette hanging from his lips. The tobacco flakes drifted down, unlit, the cigarette hanging languidly from his mouth. A chuckle escaped Renly as he tugged at the corner of his mouth.
Yet, the smile hadn't fully blossomed before it receded, his hand reaching up to remove the cigarette. "This is just..." Renly began to speak, but his words faltered. His gaze on the cigarette's end grew blurry, lost in his thoughts.
Recalling the scene just played out, the insights gleaned from his performance, the Adam he had portrayed—icy sensations rushed over him, an unfamiliar chill. Even he couldn't control it, raising his head to touch the furry, bald crown. Bitterness, sourness, and spiciness tingled on his tongue, like ripples upon a tranquil pond, gently spreading.
Conversation lapsed into silence, yet Rooney remained patient, not hastening to interject, waiting for the continuation.
"Do you know about seeds?" Renly turned to Rooney, uttering words that seemed unrelated.
Seeds? What did that have to do with cigarettes? Or acting, perhaps? Maybe even his current project? Renly's rhythm of speech jumped around, leaving Rooney bewildered. She couldn't fathom the meaning behind his words. Yet, Renly appeared oblivious to this, continuing in his own world.
"After a seed is sown, it swells gradually, then sprouts, breaking through the earth. That potent force emerges from within, brimming with vitality, absorbing nutrients from the soil, surmounting all obstacles, flourishing. Everyone anticipates the blooming and fruition."
Renly's voice maintained a measured pace, akin to murmurs from time immemorial, less a discussion of acting, more an exploration like a documentary narrator. Yet, he remained unaware of his own peculiarity. Today's scene, the method and experiential approaches to performance, all of it was within Renly's ongoing exploration and research, even he was confounded by it all.
As he spoke, Renly paused, once again lost in his thoughts, as if speaking to himself. "But for the soil, it's a cruel agony. It decays, ages bit by bit. The slow process is a torment. What's even more terrifying is whether the seeds nurtured in this soil will become poison or sustenance – nobody knows."
Rooney couldn't make sense of what Renly was saying. She had no inkling about "50/50", the kind of movie it was, what scene Renly had filmed today, or the circumstances he had gone through. Suddenly, watching Renly, it seemed as though he had turned into Nietzsche, expounding upon profound philosophical theories. She was utterly perplexed.
Unexpectedly, though, Rooney empathized deeply.
Born into a prestigious family, Rooney's maternal grandfather owned the New York Giants, and her paternal grandfather was the founder of the Pittsburgh Steelers. She was practically born with a silver spoon. Furthermore, owing to the family's involvement in business and sports, the family held an open attitude toward their children entering the entertainment industry. Her sister Kate entered Hollywood at the age of sixteen, while Rooney herself became an actress at twenty.
Regardless of whether Kate and Rooney were willing to acknowledge or accept it, their surname "Mara" and the hidden business empire behind it predetermined that they would receive special treatment. However, it wasn't the positive kind of treatment. Peculiar glances followed them everywhere. People often assumed: they were just playing around, like the Olsen twins or the Kardashian sisters.
Rooney aspired to be an exceptional actress, perhaps even a great one. This had always been her goal. She stubbornly declined help from her family, honing her acting skills in the realm of independent cinema, attempting to carve out a niche. Yet, since her debut in a film in 2005, her efforts had never been acknowledged.
She often landed roles in minor horror films or played supporting characters in lowbrow comedies. After finally gaining recognition from David Fincher and playing an important role in "The Social Network", her shine was stolen by the two male leads, and she couldn't even secure a familiar face.
This left her incredibly disheartened, doubting herself. Was she devoid of acting talent? Was she just an ordinary dreamer? Did the roles she'd previously played result from connections backing her? Doubts consumed her.
To the point that tonight, at the Oscars, her negative emotions erupted. Sitting in the Kodak Theatre, she felt entirely out of place, lacking any sense of belonging.
Yet, in this moment, watching Renly before her, Rooney had a sudden realization.
The journey of chasing dreams was never simple. It was strewn with thorns, fraught with challenges. It wasn't a clichéd inspirational tale where rainbows followed storms. In real life, often even after enduring storms, rainbows remained elusive. Just like nurturing seeds, awaiting their blooming and fruition. Exhausting all nutrients from the soil, yet unable to discern whether the final fruit would be sustenance or poison.
Persisting might not guarantee victory; surrendering, however, certainly led to failure. So, continuing to persist, was it wise or foolish?
Rooney's gaze once again settled on Renly's bald head, her lips curling upwards. This time, though, what she felt wasn't humor, but admiration and reverence. "How did I not know that you also have French ancestry?"
French people have a penchant for discussing philosophy – it's ingrained in their blood. Renly's profound remarks just now reminded Rooney of the French, and she couldn't help but make a jest.
"Shakespeare must be heartbroken," Renly raised an eyebrow slightly and casually remarked, suggesting that the previous discussion wasn't philosophical but poetic.
Rooney paused for a moment and couldn't help but smile. A subtle gleam of amusement sparkled in her colorful, bright eyes. She didn't continue the jest, instead returning to the previous topic. "You know what? Humanity is a magnificent species, one might even say, miraculous."
"Because, regardless of whether the seeds yield good or bad outcomes, the soil retains memories, transforming positive and negative influences into nutrients, and then reshaping itself." Rooney suddenly realized that Renly's words from earlier weren't so esoteric. The metaphorical comparisons had come to life vividly.
"Every moment we experience – positive, negative, joyful, painful, beautiful, ugly – eventually becomes a part of us, creating a uniquely individual self."
After uttering these words, Rooney fell silent, thoughts surging in her mind. It wasn't just a response to Renly, but also her own insight. Speaking those words aloud, she found herself savoring them.
Renly felt a tingling sensation course through his blood, leaving him somewhat dazed.
His earlier words had been about cancer and countless ailments. Not just about the character Adam in the movie, or the character Will in life, but also about the children at Mount Sinai Hospital. That agony was like drowning, gradually filling the lungs, swelling, scalding, tearing, consuming all vitality, birthing the root of death. On the day when the seed broke through the soil, life also reached its end.
Life could nurture hope, yet it could also brew despair.
But Rooney's words were about acting, dreams, persistence, and life itself.
People were always like this, anticipating success, focusing all their attention on the outcome, overlooking the path to success – a narrow alley littered with fragments of failure. Often, more than the outcome, the process was the most significant. The fleeting joy of success couldn't compare to the marvelous and moving scenery along the journey.
Reborn as a human, Renly deeply understood this.
Hence, he was willing to endure suffering lying in a coffin to explore acting; he was willing to take a $20,000 fee to delve into acting skills for "Like Crazy"; he was willing to forsake attending the Oscars to study a character. Similarly, he wouldn't neglect his life for the sake of acting. He wouldn't forget the people around him for the sake of his dream. He wouldn't overlook the brilliance of the journey for the beauty of the destination.
Because he knew that every moment, every instant on the path of life, was precious and unique. Acting was like this, as were rock climbing and surfing.
Rooney lifted her head, meeting Renly's gaze. Words weren't necessary – the stars above and the boundless tranquility painted similar arcs on their lips.
The happiest moment in Yu Boya's life was encountering Zhong Ziqi.