From Flower Vase to Film Emperor in Hollywood

"Go with the flow?" Anson was a little surprised.

Cliff nodded, "Yes, go with the flow."

Anson pondered to himself, "How do I go with the flow?"

Cliff chuckled directly, "Relax, trust yourself, and rely on your intuition."

Anson didn't speak, but fell into deep thought.

Cliff was a little surprised. He thought young people didn't like old people's nagging. After all, times were different, and their thoughts, concepts, and values were also different. This wasn't specifically aimed at Anson, but was generally the case with the younger generation, so he hesitated before speaking, worried that he was meddling.

But he didn't expect…

He was overthinking it.

Cliff continued to say.

"During this time in the crew, based on my observation, I can see that you have deeply researched the character and the plot, and you always grasp the state just right."

"I believe this scene will be the same. You know the lines, you know the emotions, and you know the state, so why not trust yourself."

"Don't deliberately think about those emotions or those lines, but immerse yourself in the character and follow your intuition."

"I believe your understanding and analysis of this scene are deeply imprinted in your bones, and your intuition will give you the correct answer and bring out the correct performance."

"Not thinking is not a good thing; but thinking too much is also not a good thing."

Cliff was stunned, "I thought you were going to say 'You're not my father, don't meddle.'"

This sentence was exactly what Peter Parker said to his uncle in the movie—

Words are both sharp blades and sharp edges, always easily hurting those closest to you unintentionally, but the words spoken are like water spilled, which cannot be recovered, and the scars remain on the heart.

However, here, going from reality back to the screen, Cliff created a clever contrast, and the comedic effect came out.

The smile in Anson's eyes also gradually overflowed, "You know, I'm an actor. I think the earth should revolve around me, so I care more about your praise. Am I really a good actor?"

Cliff revealed a thoughtful expression, looking at Anson with a serious face, "Not bad."

Anson widened his eyes.

Cliff burst into hearty laughter.

Then, the voice of the walkie-talkie came from under the car seat.

"Attention, attention, everything is ready. Anson, Cliff, what about you?"

On the surface, there are only Anson and Cliff in the car, but their every move is under the surveillance of cameras and microphones. Not only the director, but half of the crew is watching.

Cliff and Anson exchanged a look, and the two of them laughed again.

Huff.

Anson took a long breath, trying to calm himself down. He needed to trust himself. There was no need to get caught up in trying to perform well, as that would lose the sense of lightness. Too much is as bad as too little.

Cliff's voice came again from the side, "You don't need to prove yourself, you just need to play the character. That's enough."

There was a hidden meaning in his words.

It seemed that Cliff thought Anson might be worried about the label of being a pretty face becoming a burden to him, but in fact, Anson wasn't worried about others thinking he was a pretty face at all.

However, from another perspective, Cliff was also right. Anson didn't need to prove to anyone that he deserved this role. Just be himself.

"Thank you," Anson said, concise but sincere.

Behind the monitor.

James Franco, Kirsten Dunst, and other actors were all here, their eyes on the monitor, unable to resist their curiosity about Anson's performance.

The air was slightly quiet, and the roar of traffic two blocks away made the silence even more pronounced.

"Action!"

Buzzing, buzzing, buzzing, on the street in front of the Metropolitan Museum of Art, vehicles came and went, and the crowd was bustling, and life resumed its operation.

On the movie screen, these life-like scenes seemed incredibly real, but on the set, everything was a carefully planned performance.

Although Sam Raimi wasn't as crazy as Steven Spielberg, he also had his own keen sense of capturing the overall effect of the picture.

However, everything had nothing to do with Peter Parker and Ben Parker.

In the car, the atmosphere seemed normal. Peter couldn't wait to get out of the car, but was stopped by Uncle Ben.

"Thank you, Uncle Ben."

"Wait, we need to talk."

With one sentence, a trace of astonishment appeared on Peter's face. The joy and expectation briefly solidified, because he was preparing to go to the underground boxing match to try his skills and earn money with his superpowers. Three thousand dollars was not a small amount, but he was stopped. He couldn't stand it for a moment.

"Let's talk later."

"If you allow, we can talk now."

Uncle Ben insisted.

Peter didn't hide his disappointed expression, and was slightly impatient. Like thousands of teenagers, he obviously didn't like talking to his elders.

His shoulders drooped slightly, "What do you want to talk about? Does it have to be now?"

Uncle Ben turned off the engine, "Because we haven't had a heart-to-heart talk for a long time. Mei and I don't understand you anymore. You refuse to do housework and do some strange experiments in your room…"

One sentence, then another.

Peter became more and more irritable, slumped back in his seat, and his eyes impatiently drifted out the window.

Uncle Ben still didn't stop, and the nagging continued, "You fight in school…"

Peter immediately became excited, sat up straight, and looked aggrieved, "I said I didn't start it."

Uncle Ben didn't avoid Peter's gaze, "You made sure you won."

Peter turned slightly to face his uncle's gaze, and anger surged, "Should I have run away?"

Uncle Ben could feel Peter's aggressiveness. He avoided his gaze, "No, you shouldn't run away, but…"

Take a deep breath.

Uncle Ben raised his head, looked at Peter's glaring look, gently breathed out, and said in a softened tone, "Peter, you're changing. At your age, I was just like you…"

But Peter didn't buy it, and showed a sarcastic smile, "No, not quite the same."

Superpowers are both a surprise and a secret.

Peter had no way to tell anyone, and he wasn't sure if he should tell anyone. Of course, he hadn't seriously thought about this question.

In short, things were different, and Peter didn't think Uncle Ben could understand.

In a flash, the emotions between Peter's eyebrows were very complicated, but they couldn't be simply described. Finally, they evolved into a kind of stubbornness and a kind of alienation.

Cliff noticed—

This is the level.

And it wasn't acting, it was a natural level, and the image of the big boy in front of him and Peter Parker overlapped.

So much so that Cliff was slightly stunned.

Originally, this should have been his line, but now it didn't connect.

Behind the monitor, eyes looked at Sam in a hubbub. Was it going to be NG again? The fourth time?

But very surprisingly, Sam hesitated for a moment, didn't speak, but looked closely at the monitor screen, revealing a playful look.

Silence spread in the air, the surrounding noise was still there, but no one spoke.

So, what exactly is going on?