Edgar was finding it a bit difficult.
In fact, those flamboyant lies, spoken on a whim, are often easier because they don't require much thought. He could draw from movies, novels, or other templates from life. As an agent, he had long been exposed to the classic tactics of persuasion used by other top agents at William Morris to impress actors. Copying and pasting such lines would make them sound very polished and extravagant.
But the truth? That's different.
Because the truth must come from within, from the heart. He had to think for himself and truly understand, explore, and discuss the person in front of him. Every word, starting from scratch, needed careful consideration. Even a tiny bit of deception could ruin the outcome, potentially destroying his own opportunity.
"I think..."
Edgar took a deep breath. Because of his openness and vulnerability, he couldn't help but avoid eye contact. His lowered eyelids, rarely seen, betrayed a hint of nervousness and hesitation. He almost couldn't bring himself to speak, but he lifted his eyes, looked at Anson, and sincerely gazed into Anson's bright eyes.
"I think you're a special actor."
"Even though you're only eighteen, you know what you're doing, and you know what you want. That wisdom is what's truly rare."
"Hollywood isn't lacking in actors or stars, but there are very few true superstars. Right now, the only one who can truly be called a superstar is Leonardo DiCaprio, but he's off on an island in Indonesia searching for himself. That's the Hollywood we have."
"So, I hope to work with you. We can create a future together and become the next superstar, a one-of-a-kind superstar."
"I want to be the one who witnesses your rise to the top."
Edgar spoke candidly and sincerely, without hiding his ambition. His eyes and cheeks reflected a bold and unrestrained desire. This was Edgar's true face, a man filled with hunger and energy, a formidable figure.
Now, Anson finally saw Edgar for who he really was.
Moved?
Of course.
Anson wasn't a stone Buddha. Edgar's words stirred him, making his blood surge with excitement. He truly felt the energy and vitality of being eighteen and was eager to roll up his sleeves and charge forward with Edgar.
But his past experiences reminded him that impulsiveness and passion often lead to risks. Hollywood, the arena of fame and fortune, is not a place where you can succeed with just passion. Those who charge in with blind enthusiasm often hit a wall hard. They need to plan long-term and strategize carefully.
No need to floor the accelerator all at once.
So.
A smile crept onto Anson's lips as he said, "You're so confident that I can land this role? You didn't even ask if I'm interested in it."
Edgar grinned, "If you weren't interested, you wouldn't have gotten in the car with me. Anson, you're not the type to just obediently follow along. Trust me, I have a very deep understanding of that."
"Haha." Anson burst out laughing.
Edgar continued, "So, you don't like this role? Peter Parker?"
Anson nodded, "I like it. And I'm looking forward to playing this role, but I also know the competition will be fierce."
Edgar agreed, "Of course. I can't guarantee you'll get this role. To be precise, no one can guarantee an actor will land a specific role. But that's my job—to find different ways to increase the chances of success, to fight for the roles you deserve. So, why not give it a try and trust me this time?"
Anson spread his hands, "I've got nothing to lose, right?"
That was the truth—
A sudden audition opportunity, and for "Spider-Man" no less. No matter what happens in New York, Anson wouldn't be at a loss.
Does Anson like "Spider-Man"?
Undoubtedly.
After all, it's the year 2000, and the movie is "Spider-Man," a situation completely different from twenty years later.
In 2023, superhero movies had become formulaic and tiresome, with lackluster quality, declining box office and critical reception, and even finding a decent popcorn flick had become exceedingly difficult.
Moreover, after the full rise of Marvel movies, actors became tightly associated with their superhero roles. On-screen and off, online and offline, they had to maintain a consistent persona, which was great for movie promotion but a nightmare for the actors themselves.
Indeed, a superhero role is a rare career breakthrough opportunity. However, it also becomes a prison for the actor's image, making it difficult to escape the superhero persona no matter what other roles they play.
Among Marvel's roster of actors, even the most popular ones like Robert Downey Jr. and Chris Evans haven't been able to shake off the superhero label. After leaving Marvel, their acting careers hit various roadblocks, with the roles that once propelled their careers now acting as burdens holding them back.
Only a few actors, such as Scarlett Johansson and Mark Ruffalo, who emerged from the world of independent films, have managed to retain their unique identities and continue exploring diverse acting paths.
But this is just the surface. The deeper reason lies in the strategic shift by Hollywood movie studios, completely overturning the previously passive role they played in the filmmaking process.
In the 1980s, the rise of stars like Harrison Ford and Tom Cruise ignited the market, ushering in the peak of Hollywood's superstar era.
This meant that audiences didn't care about the type or story of a movie—they would go to the theaters because of the actors, and box office draw came from the stars.
The 1990s bore witness to this, with Will Smith breaking records by achieving over $100 million in North American box office earnings with five consecutive films, earning him the nickname "King Smith."
Stars like Arnold Schwarzenegger, Jim Carrey, Julia Roberts, Meg Ryan, Tom Hanks, and Denzel Washington all had this kind of drawing power.
Naturally, this meant that the control was always in the hands of the actors.
If a movie studio wanted to ensure box office success, they had to cast a superstar—this is also the root cause of the "blind faith in superstars" phenomenon during the first decade of the 21st century. Studios would pay these superstar actors ever-increasing salaries, including box office bonuses, reaching a peak around 2010.
When Johnny Depp filmed "Pirates of the Caribbean: On Stranger Tides," his $56 million paycheck stunned the entire industry.
Then came 2008, with the release of "Iron Man."
Amid declining originality in films, rising audience expectations for genre movies, and diminishing box office appeal of actors, studios began to explore different avenues.
Disney turned its attention to comic books and chose Robert Downey Jr., whose career had hit a low point due to substance abuse, to star, attempting to move away from the influence of superstar personas.
This marked a turning point.
However, in the present, in the year 2000, the situation was entirely different, and the risks faced by actors lay in other areas—
Comics? Anime? Superheroes?
They were still considered niche culture, not taken seriously by the mainstream. Yet, precisely in this context, production teams didn't have to cater to mainstream market demands, allowing them to create vibrant and diverse works true to the original style.
First update.