From Flower Vase to Film Emperor in Hollywood

Silence, stillness, utter silence.

The entire crew was without a single sound, even breaths and heartbeats temporarily disappearing, more like complete focus and undivided attention than tension.

When focus reaches its peak, all external distractions cease to exist, wholeheartedly immersing oneself in the work at hand, forgetting everything else.

And then.

“Cut!”

Mangold's voice, like a thunderclap, took root and exploded, the entire theater able to feel the shockwave spreading like ripples.

Yet, the crew still didn't break the spell, merely resuming breathing, the tense state slightly eased but still not detached from the film's atmosphere—

Who knew, maybe this take still wasn't good enough, they might need to film it again, so they couldn't allow themselves to easily break out of character.

“Perfect. That's a wrap!”

Whoosh!

Mangold's words, like Prince Charming's true love kiss on Sleeping Beauty's forehead, finally broke the spell, and the air flowed freely again.

The next second, arms raised high!

Wow!

Voices, bursting from throats, eagerly venting; emotions, once the dam broke, could no longer be contained, surging and escalating.

Ah, ah ah ah, ah ah ah!

Unrestrained, hearty venting, releasing, burning, high-fiving, cheering, roaring, some even running wildly.

Note, this wasn't the wrap-up of the entire film, just a single scene today, a scene where Johnny Cash goes mad and completely loses control on stage.

But, finally!

From morning till night, filming for a full six hours, one scene was finally completed—

The hardship and setbacks, the torment and suffering in between, finally came to an end at this moment.

No one could control themselves, the emotions suppressed and controlled again and again were all released, one or two seeming to have lost their minds.

Aside, Mangold wanted to say: This isn't the wrap-up, it's just one scene; get a good rest tonight, the film crew's work continues tomorrow, no need to revel as if everything is over.

The words welled up, but in the end, he swallowed them back down.

Mangold knew very well how difficult and torturous today's scene was, all stemming from himself, precisely because Anson's performance was exceptionally outstanding, that Mangold developed ambition and desire, he wanted to film it better, he wanted to construct a perfect scene, a perfect picture.

Including Mangold himself—

Completely emptied.

After a whole day of busy and tense work, his mind was blank, at this moment he didn't even have the strength to raise a finger.

So, if the crew wants to revel, then let them revel properly.

Thinking seriously, today's scene could indeed be called a crucial turning point since the film began, when they poured all their energy into their work and completed a 120% effort, a short celebration and venting was indeed necessary, even if only for better subsequent work.

Thus.

Mangold stood up, ready to join the revelry, but found his knees weak, his whole body limp, only then did he realize that he had also exhausted everything, unknowingly depleted, and only after a beat or two did he realize that his body was constantly trembling.

A burning sensation.

This feeling actually felt not bad.

On the other side, exhausted to the extreme, overdrawn to the limit, Anson was actually getting more and more energetic, the pleasure and abandon after hearty venting continued to make his blood boil, the adrenaline rush keeping his spirit in a state of excitement, if filming continued, there would definitely be no problem.

That appearance, that posture, even if the boxing king Ali appeared in front of him, Anson would step on the butterfly's steps, clench his fists and directly launch a challenge.

Nora's full of worry standing in front of Anson evolved into a mix of laughter and tears, helplessly looking at Charles, “Still worried others won't know he's your son? That posture, exactly the same.”

Charles revealed a faint smile, “Should say, inheriting your excellent qualities.”

Lucas sized up Anson, refreshed, high-spirited, although tired, the bright light in his eyes seemed particularly energetic.

Such Anson was abnormally excited.

This made Lucas's brow furrow slightly, “Are you sure you're okay?”

Anson laughed directly, “No, I'm not sure.”

Lucas: … …

Anson laughed out loud, “Haha, Lucas, you should really see your expression.”

Lucas, “The mirrors in the waiting room have all been cleaned up according to someone's orders, so can't see.”

Anson burst into laughter.

Then, Anson could see Nora and Charles with worried faces, both of them not concealing their expressions, their gazes deeply fixed on Anson.

This made Anson take a deep breath, restrain his expression, and solemnly meet their gazes, “I'm fine, really.”

“This is the work of an actor.”

“All along, I've put myself into performances with a relaxed attitude, without burden or pressure, naturally unable to feel the power of acting, when I become one with the character, truly enter the character's world, enter a parallel universe, opening a brand new life in a different way.”

“This is the charm of acting.”

Anson was serious.

Tired? The answer was yes.

One hundred percent, genuinely tired, a kind of tiredness rooted deep in the soul, completely different from aerobic exercise, although the body hasn't experienced strenuous exercise, the dual tiredness of physical and mental levels empties the entire body, now Anson finally understands what it means to use up all his primal strength.

At this moment, the whole person has a burning sensation, chest, fingertips, brain, blood vessels, flames are burning in every corner, wantonly scurrying, as if wrapped in a ball of fire, but without feeling stinging and uncomfortable, just venting, releasing, consuming all the energy.

Not only that, but also some trance, the content perceived by vision and hearing are wrapped in a layer of bubbles, as if in the universe, at certain times and moments still difficult to accurately distinguish the difference between film and reality, unable to completely get out of the role for a while.

However, the pleasure after thorough venting and burning is also real; the fulfillment of heartfelt happiness and joy filling the limbs and stuffing the chest is also real.

Even that half-dreaming and half-waking trance and dislocation is just as charming, with a tipsy ease and lightness.

This was something that had never been experienced in any previous work.

“This is very interesting. Really.”

The smile on Anson's lips fully bloomed, even if he stood quietly in place, you could feel his words, his emotions dancing.

Looking at the vivid and animated Anson standing in front of them, Nora and Charles didn't know how to respond for a while.

Finally, Charles shook his head lightly with a face full of annoyance, “Anson, damn, you've finally become the Hollywood madman your Uncle Darren talks about, what to do?”