Seattle in early March remained bitterly cold, especially in the dead of night. The gusty wind cut through the air, chilling to the bone. Just standing outdoors for a short while was enough to make one feel their blood temperature dropping. It was only around eleven o'clock, yet the streets were already deserted. People either stayed in bars or remained at home, unwilling to venture out into the unpredictable early spring night.
However, the crew of "50/50" were all gathered outdoors at this moment. They were scattered across various spots on the streets, enduring the cold wind and shivering. They engaged in idle chatter, occasionally glancing in the same direction. Their gazes would linger there, observing the situation, but when they saw that nothing had changed, they would sigh, retract their eyes, rub their arms, hop on their feet, and continue their halfhearted conversations with their colleagues, trying to keep warm.
Trevor McWhinney exhaled onto his palms, then rubbed them vigorously, but his stiff muscles still radiated cold. The biting cold, like strands of cow hair, seeped into his body through his pores, intertwining with his bloodstream. Friction and movement barely made a difference.
"We can't wait any longer," Trevor shook his head and said in frustration, "I have to remind Renly. We can't keep dragging this on. Otherwise, once he gets into performance mode, I'm afraid everyone will freeze to death."
"Trevor," Jonathan Levine interjected.
Trevor was the production assistant in charge of scheduling and miscellaneous tasks for the crew. He was efficient, assertive, and got things done cleanly without any fuss. His style clashed with Renly's deliberate, fully immersed, unhurried approach as an actor, often sparking friction.
"I know, I know. We should trust Renly," Trevor rolled his eyes and his attitude couldn't have been more obvious. He was fed up with these arguments. "But we've been waiting here for thirty minutes. Jesus Christ, thirty whole minutes. Who knows if it's recent Oscar-related issues distracting him? If he's not in the right state, are we supposed to spend the whole night freezing here?"
"Yes," Seth Rogen responded casually. His answer was concise and clear, devoid of lengthy explanations or confrontational stance. He decisively drew a conclusion.
Trevor was taken aback, shot Seth a glance, and then looked at Jonathan. He immediately understood and obediently closed his mouth, refraining from further argument. However, the glint in his eyes revealed his true thoughts of dissent deep inside.
It wasn't just Trevor; the atmosphere among the entire crew was similar.
Prior to this, Renly's performance had indeed impressed everyone, showcasing the true power of acting. However, after the Oscars concluded, news about Renly all but disappeared. From being in the limelight to sinking into obscurity, the immense disparity left even bystanders feeling a sense of lament, sighing at how rapidly Hollywood changed. What about the individuals involved?
Coincidentally, some issues had arisen during the recent days of filming. Renly seemed to have hit a bottleneck, not in terms of filming problems, but because he was taking longer breaks between takes to contemplate, settle, and think.
Previously, Renly might have needed only ten to fifteen minutes of preparation time, but now it was doubled, even tripled. Of course, once he got into filming, Renly's performance remained outstanding, consistently delivering impressive acting. This slight slowdown in filming progress was still within the planned scope.
The entire film crew engaged in hushed discussions. While they felt sorry for Renly, they also couldn't help but find it understandable. After all, "he's only twenty-one years old and has just entered Hollywood not long ago. This is only his fourth film." Those pitiful, sympathetic, understanding, and reproachful gazes were now nowhere to be seen.
Even the crew of "50/50" was no different. One could easily imagine the mainstream attitude prevailing in Hollywood at this moment.
Seth's response just now was unwavering, but deep down, he was also a bit concerned. Renly was truly too young, at just twenty-one. This age was marked by impulsiveness and impatience. Emotions and mindset were easily influenced by external factors, and fluctuations in state were inevitable. Moreover, even Seth felt irked by the ins and outs of the Oscars incident. Naturally, he believed that Renly would be affected.
Although Seth was also an actor, he was unfamiliar with Renly's acting style, rhythm, content, and the like. What he saw, much like the other crew members, was Renly struggling.
However, what set him apart from the others was that he knew he should trust Renly. Right now, what Renly needed most was time and space. While he couldn't offer help with his performance, at the very least, he could protect and support Renly in his capacity as a producer. This was the only thing he could do.
Turning his head, Seth met Jonathan's gaze. In both their eyes, a hint of worry flashed. Today was far from normal. Just as Trevor had mentioned, they had been standing here for over half an hour late into the night.
However, both of them were powerless, left only with waiting. They turned their heads back, their gazes once again landing on Renly, who was engrossed and unperturbed, wholly focused on his craft.
Renly was completely unaware of the gazes around him. He was in the process of exploring the nuances of his performance.
Ever since the distinctions between the Method and Experience schools of acting had surfaced in his mind, before every scene, he would carefully contemplate which emotions both Chu Jiashu and Adam felt, which emotions were solely Chu Jiashu's, not Adam's, which were Adam's but Chu Jiashu couldn't feel, which were genuine emotions, and which were his own virtual substitutions.
It was an intriguing endeavor.
During his studies at the academy, capturing the delicate shifts in emotions and portraying them with subtle facial expressions, infused with his own style and form, was a basic skill.
Sadness, for instance, might be the grief of losing a beloved father or the sorrow of losing a distant father. It could also be the sorrow of a five-year-old whose toy was taken away or the sorrow of a sixteen-year-old losing a game... The intensity, manner, details, and degree with which these emotions manifested were all different.
Now, Renly was discerning the different presentations of the same emotion in Chu Jiashu and Adam. It was like using the foundational skills of performative acting to further comprehend the differences between the Method and Experience schools. These were three distinct styles of acting. They weren't entirely dissimilar, yet they were vastly different. Despite their disparities, they all boiled down to acting. The commonalities and distinctions between them offered Renly a brand-new experience.
Of course, Renly couldn't even be considered to have grasped the fundamentals at this point. He had merely captured some peripheral aspects. Despite that, he was still benefiting significantly.
For outsiders, Renly's exploration seemed meaningless. What was portrayed on the big screen didn't reveal earth-shattering differences in performance. Often, it might only involve subtle variations in the depth of a gaze. Whether Method or Experience, it was all the same to the audience, the director, and the screenwriters. Besides, "50/50" was a comedy film where acting finesse wasn't as critical.
Even among fellow actors, distinguishing the impact of these nuanced differences wasn't necessarily achievable.
However, for professionals, especially professional actors, such discussions and examinations held true significance. It wasn't just about the details of performance differences; it encompassed the pace of the entire performance, the aura, the texture, the depth, profundity, and richness of emotions. These were all distinct.
It was akin to top-tier actors like Meryl Streep and Daniel Day-Lewis. If you were to gather their works and view them consecutively, you'd notice traces of similarity in their performances, particularly in some subconscious facial expressions. These were indelible imprints left over years, impossible to erase even through acting.
However, the characters they portrayed conveyed entirely different feelings to the audience. Unable to articulate a clear rationale or explain the pattern of acting, they still managed to vividly differentiate the characters.
This was the essence of acting.
In other words, Renly was currently exploring the essence of his own performance. Whether it was "Buried" or "Like Crazy", Renly was primarily employing a particular method to perform. He still had a long way to go before fully establishing his own style. He was constantly switching between different acting methods, probing for his own understanding, subsequently forging his own distinct traits and facets. He was infusing soul into his performances, though he hadn't anticipated the breakthrough to come so quickly and unexpectedly.
Who could have predicted that "50/50" would yield such substantial rewards?
Strictly speaking, the weightiness of "50/50" as a work itself wasn't particularly remarkable. Cleverly enough, the roles in this production aligned with Renly's own experiences and stirred his personal resonance. Inadvertently, this led to a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity.
So, as people often say, seize the moment, for opportunities won't knock twice. For each individual, their chance is unique. "Your arsenic might be my honey," is the underlying principle. Perhaps to others, "50/50" was just a light comedy, yet for Renly, it was an invaluable moment of breaking through barriers.
He didn't want to miss it, nor would he.
This was why, before every scene, Renly spent more time contemplating his performance, instead of focusing on the Oscars as others speculated.
In fact, Renly knew nothing about the Oscars. He only learned from Rooney that history had followed its usual trajectory. Thereafter, he had no knowledge of subsequent news or the specific list of nominations.
Furthermore, in order to ensure Renly's full immersion in the filming of "50/50", Andy had Nathan keep all news under wraps, creating an environment of absolute tranquility for Renly.
The only thing that mattered to Renly was his performance.