The sound of "Cut" reached Renly's ears, but he didn't immediately snap out of his performance mode. Instead, he lowered his gaze and immersed himself in his thoughts.
Dialogue, this was the most crucial and challenging fundamental skill in the academy's expressive acting technique. However, in the modern film and theater industry, including contemporary drama, the importance of dialogue had gradually diminished and was being overlooked.
The reasons were not complex. On one hand, the expressive techniques in contemporary film and theater arts had become increasingly diverse, especially with the incorporation of visual effects. This allowed for more possibilities in portraying dramatic conflicts and depth of thought, diminishing the absolute dominance of dialogue. On the other hand, the diversification and enrichment of entertainment, coupled with the rise of fast-food culture, had relegated poetry, philosophy, history, and culture to a secondary position. The cryptic dialogues rich in nuance and philosophical depth had seemingly become outdated.
Not to mention Hollywood, even outstanding British scripts had gradually become more commonplace. Scripts like "Detachment", which not only featured a lot of soliloquies for reflection and philosophical contemplation but also ended with verses from Edgar Allan Poe, were truly rare and precious.
In fact, for Renly, this dialogue was the ultimate test within the limit. After all, the education he received at the academy was a modernized version. Although they still performed a lot of ancient dramas, the depth found in the dialogue of modern scripts was no longer present.
The excellence of a dialogue stemmed from careful consideration: who said it? To whom? Under what circumstances? Why would they say it this way? What kind of personality speaks those words? What linguistic habits resulted from their background? And what was the deeper meaning behind the dialogue, and why did the character choose to speak these words in this particular situation?
In simple terms, it had to align with the character's development and the story's context.
Did the final dialogue of the "Detachment" script choose to incorporate Edgar Allan Poe's poetry merely to satirize the desolation of the era and the barrenness of society? If the emotions ended here, what reflections did Meridith's suicide bring? How should Henry and Sami's fate be explained? What did Sarah's abandonment and the school's decay signify? Clearly, the script was more than that; it found a glimmer of hope amid the decay and the desolation, in that boundless sea of suffering.
Such a simple yet profound dialogue, such complex yet subtle emotions, presented a stern challenge to Renly.
The foundation of dialogue was practice, focusing on details like rhythm, pauses, articulation, accents, intonation, and final notes, to infuse the sentences with vibrant vitality and reveal the depth behind the words. However, the truly challenging part was linking the dialogue to the characters, the plot, and the story to create resonance. It required filling every crevice and corner of the lines with overflowing emotions, making the characters more three-dimensional.
For this scene's dialogue, Renly had pondered it at least 150 times before the actual performance, carefully savoring the emotions within. "The Fall of the House of Usher" was renowned throughout Europe and had received recognition for its artistry. It reflected the society's situation at the time, but interpretations could vary as there were a thousand Hamlets in a thousand people. The same verse, when applied to different situations and characters, naturally held different meanings.
Renly considered seven or eight different approaches and ultimately chose the one he had just used. When he finally began the performance, Renly was completely immersed in the character. His mind felt ethereal, and deep within his soul, he could sense a faint resonance with Henry. He flawlessly controlled the performance's structure and layers, and the feeling of being in complete control was beyond words.
Using the method acting as a foundation to conceive the character and the Stanislavski method as a means to portray it, this was a performance style different from any of his previous works. Renly knew that this approach was only applicable to "Detachment", thanks to the script's academy-style, and it wouldn't work for a different project. Nevertheless, this attempt had once again revealed to Renly a potential path where these two acting styles could merge.
However, precisely because his performance was so immersive, so focused, and so smooth, Renly became increasingly aware of his shortcomings: experience.
From the perspective of the "Detachment" graduation exam alone, he had indeed reached the required standard. But in the preparation process, he had expended an immense amount of energy and time to bring out the full potential of the "practice makes perfect" philosophy. Still, on-the-spot adaptability, character comprehension, and the ability to utilize foundational skills all left something to be desired.
Whether it was the seventy-one takes of the bus scene or the single take of the final scene, it was evident that his foundational skills met the standards. However, integrating these skills into his performance made him only half a professional actor. He still had a long way to go before he could truly become a master of his craft.
Of course, there were no shortcuts in the Stanislavski method. It was a matter of continuously refining oneself and honing one's skills through repeated performances. Experience accumulated in a series of real-life battles, eventually becoming ingrained in the body and muscles, making every movement and expression a part of the performance.
This was why British Academy actors would return to the stages of London's West End from time to time, much like cars that needed to run occasionally to prevent the engine from rusting.
Renly couldn't help but remember Paul's joking words from before: Broadway or London's West End.
If he ever found the opportunity in the future, he would definitely return to those stages. It would be best if he could perform in a classical drama, like those of Shakespeare, ancient Greek tragedies, or Italian comedies—traditional themes that demanded near-pedantic standards of foundational skills and, particularly, an understanding of the dialogue. This was the essence that modern theater had lost.
For the first time, Renly realized his youthfulness. It wasn't just about his age, although, when you considered his two lifetimes, he was already over fifty years old, and his perspective on the world was naturally different. Rather, it was the youthfulness that time had left him with. In both his past and present lives, Renly had experienced too little in society, and his life experiences had been far from eventful.
Even in this lifetime, he had laid the foundations of culture from a young age, received professional education at the Royal Academy of Arts in London, and his turbulent experiences from two lifetimes had given him a different perspective on life, the world, and society. All of these were embedded in his performances and were reasons for the success of his previous works before "Detachment".
However, "Detachment" made Renly realize that he had only studied in the academy for two years and had spent less than six months honing his skills in London's West End and Broadway. In simple terms, the time he had spent on stage was still too little. He was not even twenty-two yet, and while he had made full use of every moment in his life, he was still too young. Those seasoned actors from the Academy, who had immersed themselves in the world of theater for ten, twenty years or more, were the ones who truly held mastery over their craft.
The Stanislavski acting method was as simple as that. The effort offstage would manifest onstage. Relying solely on talent to make a name for oneself in the industry was incredibly challenging, nearly impossible.
As Thomas Edison once said, genius is one percent inspiration and ninety-nine percent perspiration. The inspiration was the foundation, and without it, even the finest wood couldn't be crafted into a treasure. But once that spark of inspiration was there, it took the hard work, the sweat, the toil, the sacrifice of the ninety-nine percent to ensure success. In history, countless geniuses had squandered their talents and met early demises.
For the Stanislavski method, it meant continually refining oneself, tempering oneself, and accumulating experience. Under the weight of time, sweat would gradually become a part of one's body, leading to a transformation. This was a process, the process of forging steel, arduous, torturous, and challenging. However, without undergoing it, one could never achieve the necessary transformation.
Not long ago, "50/50" had given Renly a deeper understanding of the method acting and experiential acting. Now, after "Detachment", he had a chance to reevaluate his own accomplishments in Stanislavski acting.
Since entering Hollywood, in approximately two years, he had acted in a TV series and five movies. He believed he had achieved a certain level of acting proficiency, with accolades from the media pouring in, and even an Oscar nomination. However, looking at the long and winding road of exploring acting, he realized that he had only just begun.
This time, Renly started to seriously consider selecting a classic play from Broadway or London's West End for a reprise, and he intended to hone his skills rigorously.
As he contemplated this, a smile involuntarily graced his lips. He relished such challenges and cherished the process. Perhaps George and Elizabeth were right; he wasn't a genius. But he firmly believed that he possessed a sliver of talent, even if it wasn't one percent inspiration, maybe it was just 0.5 percent. Regardless, he was determined to stay on this path. The scenery along this journey was so marvelous; how could he bear to miss it?
Lifting his head, Renly gazed ahead, looking at Tony, and shouted, "Director, how was this scene? Do you need me to watch the playback, and then we can discuss it further?"
His shout shattered the silence on the set, and everyone turned to look at Tony.
Tony shivered briefly, then regained his composure. He raised his right hand and shook it vigorously. "No need! This scene is just two setups, and we've already completed all the shots. That means it's perfect! I can officially announce that it's a wrap!"
Tony had initially expected cheers and applause after his announcement, but when he looked around, he saw expressions of disappointment and regret on everyone's faces. Anxious, he jumped up and said, "What's wrong? Are you planning to do it all over again? Torture yourselves some more?"
With Tony's words, the cast and crew finally snapped out of their daze. Cheers erupted, and someone shouted, "All right! It's a wrap!"