Sami couldn't help but hold her breath, her gaze fixed on Renly not far away.
He stood there, simply and unassumingly, leaning against the iron pole of the bus stop, head lowered as he rolled a cigarette. There were no special actions, no unnecessary expressions—just a deep focus on his "task". The thin, cold morning sunlight in New York fell on his shoulders, outlining a sense of detachment and indifference. All vitality seemed to recede inward and sink downward, calm on the surface but with hidden currents surging beneath.
His gaze lowered, hidden behind the curtain of his lashes, making it impossible to discern his true emotions. Sami's gaze couldn't help but follow his eyes to the cigarette in his hand. Distinct knuckles, strong and robust, his long fingertips manipulated the thin tobacco as if crafting the most exquisite work of art in the world. Every motion was an art form.
Across the road at the intersection, there came the sound of engines, "vroom, vroom," and he lifted his gaze, calm. His eyes were incredibly calm, perhaps too calm, so much so that the faint ripples were almost imperceptible. He followed the sound for a moment, a moment that seemed to distract him, even his hand paused. But it was fleeting, and his eyelids lowered once more.
Everything returned to a calm surface.
Sami couldn't explain the reason behind it all. She didn't know the significance of this scene, how to describe Renly's performance, or what distinct differences there were between this take and the previous one. But the immense aura of his performance had firmly captured her attention. This kind of ability was enough to make Sami stare in awe.
Acting was an art form that was visible but elusive, felt but indescribable. There were actors who could sit quietly in a chair, their simple actions holding viewers spellbound, where even their fingertips and eyebrows were part of the act. This immense presence bestowed upon the entire performance a unique charm.
Renly before her now made Sami feel this awe-inspiring presence. She strained to keep her eyes wide open, fearing she might miss any detail. Then, Sami saw a figure pass in front of her, and she furrowed her brows in annoyance, looking over, only to realize that the person was Tony. Sami had almost bitten her tongue in frustration.
Beside her, Betty was also taken aback, nearly choking on her own saliva. Their gazes could see Tony crossing the set and approaching the cameraman. He reached over, took the camera off the tripod, and slung it over his shoulder, stepping closer to Renly, who was still performing.
Wasn't this a bit inappropriate?
Wasn't this scene only five seconds long? Wasn't this the first scene of the shoot? Wasn't this scene just a transitional scene change? Wasn't this a short shot that would be over in an instant? Why did things suddenly take a different turn?
It had been about half a minute already, and the shooting hadn't ended yet? Moreover, Tony wasn't satisfied and was personally carrying the camera to capture close-ups? No, it wasn't close-ups anymore; it seemed Tony had already gotten too close. Close-ups had turned into extreme close-ups, even 360-degree close-ups. It didn't look like they were filming a transitional scene anymore; it looked more like they were shooting the grand entrance of the male lead or a scene of intense emotional eruption. The situation on set was truly baffling.
Now, the established rhythm of the shoot was completely disrupted. Whether it was Renly or Tony, both of them had broken free from the constraints of the script and the predetermined track. They were simply following their instincts, leading them into an unknown direction.
Betty's gaze remained fixed on the unmoved Renly. She watched as he rolled his cigarette, lit it, and then turned to walk towards the teaching building. In her mind, there were no constraints of the script, performance, or camera frames; she simply couldn't look away from that figure. Time seemed to pause when focused on that figure, appearing to merge with the world but feeling out of place, as if she saw herself.
Betty couldn't help but bite her lower lip hard, and her eyes began to show signs of sadness she couldn't control. Her eyes inexplicably welled up with tears. This made her feel a bit embarrassed. She lowered her head in a panic, covering her cheeks with her hands. But the suffocating feeling of drowning lingered. She lowered her hands and looked at Renly again. She had no idea why she was doing this, as if... as if in that man, she could find a hint of security.
So, was this the reason Tony insisted on having Betty play Meredith?
She wasn't an actress, just a real, struggling girl teetering on the edge of pain, much like Meredith. Now, Betty felt Meredith's state of mind. Her emotions uncontrollably gravitated towards that man, not due to a hormonal chemical reaction but because they were both wandering souls. In him, she sensed warmth and tranquility, like... he could understand her pain.
"Cut!" Tony's voice resounded in the distance. In fact, he had followed Renly into the teaching building, and his footsteps came to a halt in front of the swaying doors. All the original plans were now shattered. The crew members looked at each other, not knowing what stage the shoot had progressed to, how many scenes had been filmed, or what to do next.
Tony paid no attention to the crew's confusion. He didn't even consider returning to the monitor. Instead, he sat down on the steps at the entrance of the teaching building, opened the camera, and started reviewing the footage.
The entire crew was left hanging, without further instructions or orders. Everyone looked at the assistant director for guidance, but in the director's absence, the responsibilities fell on the assistant director. Jeremy Marks suddenly felt the immense pressure and was at a loss. He had never encountered such a situation before. As the shoot continued, the entire crew's work became disoriented. He had no idea where Tony and Renly were at the moment. The most direct approach was to approach Tony and inquire, but the problem was that it didn't seem like the best time.
Then, Renly emerged from the teaching building once more and sat down beside Tony, leaning in to watch the playback. The two of them were like high school students huddled together watching age-inappropriate videotapes, deeply engrossed in conversation, their expressions focused and intense, clearly not allowing anyone else to interrupt.
So, Jeremy was also left bewildered.
Jeremy hesitated for a moment, exchanged glances with other crew members, and then looked at the assistant director's team. He hesitatedly asked, "Should I... go over and ask?" He didn't say it with much confidence, and it was more like a desperate attempt to take action. But the problem was that no one could respond to his request, not even the assistant directors, who all seemed hesitant.
Jeremy clenched his fist as he recalled the situation during the first take. With sheer determination and courage, he reluctantly walked towards the teaching building. In the curious, surprised, and speculative gazes of the onlookers, Jeremy felt like he was approaching the guillotine. He moved forward, undeterred, along a corridor of less than thirty meters. Even if his steps were slow, there was ultimately a time when he would reach his destination. Then, Jeremy heard an intense argument.
"No, absolutely not!" This was Renly's resolute voice.
"Why not? I need to capture those subtle emotional shifts in your eyes. If we just use mid-shots and close-ups, your performance almost entirely loses its impact!"
"It's cumbersome! Do you know that? This scene is just an entrance, a transition, a change of scene. The audience doesn't need those cumbersome and dragging shots. Just a mid-shot to capture the overall body language is enough! As for the performance details, consider them as a whole."
"How can we just disregard them? Who do you think you are? You're the actor, and I'm the director. You have to listen to me! I think this scene should be kept, and editing a fifteen-second shot is not a problem."
"I'm telling you, you'll regret it! If you extend the shot for that long, my performance rhythm will become too slow. Haven't you seen it? Some of the details were actually exaggerated just now. I need to rein it in a bit. If you lengthen the shot, it will disrupt the pacing of the entire film. You're not Wong Kar-wai, so don't use these emotional long shots."
"Who says I'm not as good as Wong Kar-wai?"
"Yes, that's exactly what I mean."
...
Jeremy felt his scalp go numb as these two argued like roosters, head to head, with their words like swords clashing. He couldn't believe what he was hearing, and he broke into a cold sweat. It seemed like Renly was directly challenging authority, erupting like a volcano. Jeremy felt like he might become collateral damage.
So, what should he do now? Run away? Or grit his teeth and march toward the volcano's mouth? What would happen next? If Renly and Tony really came to blows, what then? If they vented their anger on him, what would he do?
"You're right." Just as Jeremy was lost in his anxious thoughts, he heard Tony's voice suddenly change direction, and his demeanor became calm. Jeremy felt like his jaw was about to dislocate. What was happening now?
"Yes, you're right. Let's not get too caught up in this scene. We'll follow your suggestion, use a mid-shot, then switch between two camera angles. No need for a single take. Let's capture Henry's emotions well. As for the details, we can refine them later. So, shall we do it again? What do you say?"
"Sure, let's do it again."
"Jeremy, hey, you arrived at the right time. Everyone, get ready. We're going to shoot this scene again, just as you suggested. Jeremy?"
"Oh, sure, sure! I got it!"