"At the Zhu Mansion, wine and meat go to waste, On the road, frozen bones of the dead are misplaced."
These lines once described the pitiful state of the common people during the prosperous Tang Dynasty. In today's society, such scenes are hardly seen anymore. Renly wasn't an innocent, sheltered rich kid; he knew that even in Africa, countless people still faced desperate poverty, in the Middle East, many struggled to survive amidst war, and even in the United States, stark wealth inequality persisted, with scenes of poverty in the slums.
But Renly had never believed he would witness scenes straight out of Du Fu's poetry.
Two days before the official filming of "Detachment", Renly saw the prostitute again. She was dead. She lay in a dark alley, a garbage bin just steps away. Flies and stray dogs roamed around her, and even wet rats scurried nearby. But no one cared.
Renly dialed 911, notifying the police to come and handle it, and thus, the curtain fell on this earthly tragedy. What was even more chilling was that this wasn't an isolated incident. Even in bustling New York, such situations played out daily.
In a daze, Renly felt as if he saw the caregiver again. The caregiver who had fallen apart, lost in her own world, the bewildered and fragile caregiver with teary eyes, the utterly exhausted and tormented caregiver, the one trembling in fear under Henry's harsh condemnation. In her, he saw Henry, and that deep despair and numbness were all too familiar.
Henry was the weak, and so was the caregiver, yet these two weak souls continued to harm each other. She neglected his grandfather's needs, allowing those plagued by illness to sink further. He ignored her exhaustion and burdens, recklessly venting all his anger. Two weak souls, poking open one wound after another on each other's battered bodies.
In the caregiver, Henry saw not only himself but also the group of students at school. He saw Meredith, he saw Sarah, he saw those students who stubbornly resisted life but were left battered and bruised.
They were all weak in life, or rather, they were all abandoned by God.
In this wretched society, hope was scarce, if it existed at all. The cruel reality slowly devoured their vitality and souls. Some tried to resist, some tried to escape, some tried to struggle, some tried to vent, some tried to accept...
But in the end, nothing mattered because they couldn't see an exit. Even if they accepted their fate, the bitterness in their mouths, the pain in their hearts, and the sorrow in their souls continued to torment them. Life wouldn't become easier. No one knew where the finish line was, and no one knew if they could endure until the end. They could only exist like the living dead, merely surviving.
Even Henry himself was no exception. He deceived himself, giving those kids a glimmer of hope, hoping they could reach the finish line. Yet, he was unwilling to shoulder the responsibility. Whenever relationships grew closer, he would hastily flee. He used this despicable and shameful way to remind himself that he was alive, not just surviving, but living with a purpose.
But tonight, all masks were torn off. He saw his grandfather's weakness, he witnessed the caregiver's roughness, he saw the darkness of society, an endless night that he could never escape. The inner turmoil and isolation dragged him down bit by bit, and his emotions collapsed, completely and utterly.
He loathed himself, he loathed life, he loathed society... and he loathed being alive. Life was truly too long, lacking the courage to die but also the motivation to live, every day of life felt like torment. So, did his identity as a teacher, this layer of pretense, still have any meaning?
Renly's steps came to a halt, and he finally understood, he understood at last.
Despair. That was the core of this performance, not sadness, not pain, but despair. Despair for his grandfather, despair for society, despair for education, and despair for himself. That kind of despair erupted from within, releasing the pain that had been suppressed deep inside for so long, a complete breakdown of emotions. It was not just because of sadness but because the last glimmer of hope that had maintained the illusion of a normal life had shattered. Brutal reality had come crashing in, a tsunami of despair that completely shattered his emotions.
Because of his grandfather, because of the caregiver, because of the students, because of himself, because of his mother, because of society, because of life.
At this moment of despair, Henry saw the scene on the bus: a young prostitute servicing a drunken man, without any concealment, boldly presenting itself before his eyes. It was like a scene from an Italian absurdist comedy, cruel and ironic, cold and mocking, vividly displaying the decay and darkness of society before Henry.
The overwhelming and relentless sense of despair struck Henry's soul, swift and brutal, precise and fierce. All sadness abruptly stopped, all tears ceased, and his shattered soul barely clung to life, almost unable to breathe. Then, he gradually calmed down, numbly, rigidly, lifelessly, quietly observing everything before him. The soul-wrenching despair even made his sense of pain start to malfunction.
Throughout the script's narrative, before this night, Henry had maintained a relatively positive attitude. He threw himself into teaching at the new school, met Sarah, met Meredith, and tried, within his capabilities, to guide the students caught in difficult situations through education.
But this time, despair struck like a heavyweight blow, waking him up forcefully. It made him reevaluate his futile efforts and realize that he was already fragmented and beyond redemption. How could he save others when he couldn't save himself? So, he began to distance himself quietly. The reason he didn't leave was merely the lack of courage to end his own life. Thus, he continued to exist like the living dead, suffering and enduring, repeating the cycle like an addict.
After that night, his role showed it clearly. Henry consistently kept his distance from Meredith, even in the face of her desperate cries for help. He withdrew into his shell like a turtle. When faced with Erica's proactive advances, he reluctantly provided help, driven only by a guilty conscience, offering her shelter under his roof. Then, he established strict rules to maintain distance, and as they gradually got along, he realized that a connection had formed between them. Henry promptly severed it and sought assistance from government aid agencies, taking Erica away.
This was a turning point, not because Henry had encountered Erica, but because Henry had truly tasted despair, an all-encompassing despair that left no room for hope. A despair so profound that in this society of unrelenting darkness, he couldn't see any possibility.
Purely from a performance perspective, the outward effect wouldn't be drastically different because the performance's structure remained the same. However, when viewed from the essence of performance, it was a world of difference.
Renly's previous performance was based on an outburst of emotions, stemming from his grandfather's weakness and distress, as well as the guilt and sorrow after reprimanding the caregiver. It also drew from the dark and cold memories of his mother, the loneliness and desolation of homelessness, which led to a breakdown marked by intense weeping. This was similar in spirit to the performance of Adrian Brody in a previous life but was also an attempt by Renly to alter his acting.
The correct performance should be based on the torment of despair.
He realized he had been deluding himself, about his grandfather, his mother, the caregiver, the school, and society. The despair was like a powerful punch that brutally shattered all his masks and defenses, revealing his most vulnerable and authentic self. His emotions were suppressed so fiercely and intensely that he couldn't control himself.
All of his emotions stemmed from despair, the stifling and suffocating constraints of societal reality, the helplessness and heaviness of life's realities, all ignited his emotions.
At the peak of despair, he saw Erica. The past version of himself, the one tormented by society, the one navigating life's darkest hours alone, the one who had lost faith in life due to despair... This wasn't just about connecting Erica and Henry's emotions, but also about linking the timing of Erica's appearance to the core of the script, reflecting the dilemma of education and the disasters of society.
In other words, this scene was meant to connect the emotions and intellectual sublimation of the entire script coherently. Even after this, Henry's indifference and rejection of Erica, even his cruelty, could be traced back to this moment, making the core of the story more complete and profound.
From the perspective of the academy, the performance structure was different.
Before this, Renly's performance structure was "from sadness to deeper sadness to despair to numbness". This kind of performance had enough depth, with emotions that were clear and well-placed but lacked a clear mainline, and couldn't delve deeper into the theme.
After sorting his thoughts, Renly's performance structure should be "despair, self-blame, pain, awakening, numbness, and torment". Following this mainline, it could further develop into "self-protective detachment and indifference, sadness slowly becoming impossible to restrain". In simple terms, emotions went through a dramatic transformation on the bus, and when he left the bus, his entire demeanor and state had changed.
The mainline of the entire performance complemented the script and followed the director's vision, further delving into the depth of the core theme, truly making the movie complete. This was what Renly had been relentlessly pursuing, differentiating himself from Adrian's version in a previous life, interpreting Tony's intentions, and portraying the story according to Renly's own ideas.
This was the final piece of the puzzle! Simultaneously, it was the most crucial piece!