From Flower Vase to Film Emperor in Hollywood

“Cut!”

A voice shattered the tranquility of the apartment, simultaneously breaking the fourth wall, dragging everyone from the film back into reality.

Stiff brains and halted thoughts all surged back to life, and now they finally remembered the temporarily forgotten act of breathing, panting heavily, only to inhale scorching air mixed with carbon dioxide, setting their hearts racing.

One by one, they cast glances, both resentful and puzzled, towards the source of the sound.

The scene wasn't finished yet, so why the sudden interruption?

It was Michel Gondry.

Upon realizing it was the director, the atmosphere in the apartment turned strange.

It was clear that this scene still had interactions between Clementine and Joel.

Even setting aside how Joel's shots were being filmed for the moment, Clementine's shots could at least continue to be filmed in the apartment.

However, Michel interrupted the filming.

What did this mean...?

But why?

Was the scene not good enough?

The uncontrollable impulse and surrender amidst conflicting pulls, the helplessness and gradual retreat amidst surging emotions, the push and pull and entanglement between chasing and being chased, everything was so delicate, so rich, so full, and so vibrant, unconsciously captivating—

A sudden palpitation.

Brilliant, so brilliant that it made one forget to breathe.

Kate was not Kate; she was completely Clementine.

Vivacious and outgoing, passionate and brave, with a faint hint of unease subtly leaking from behind her overly restless and lively exterior, inadvertently revealing the fear of lacking security in her heart, so she buried herself in a warm haven, greedily indulging in a brief moment of calm.

Once she made up her mind, she boldly fought for it and took the initiative.

That kind of purity was like a flame.

Despite the numerous accolades Kate had received in Hollywood, having been widely recognized since the "Sense and Sensibility" era and even receiving an Oscar nomination, she seemed to have disappeared from the scene after "Titanic," completely submerged in the idol aura.

A fallen prodigy.

Hollywood had no legend of a "fallen prodigy," but stories of those who achieved fame at a young age only to fade into obscurity were countless, leaving no one caring after a few sighs of lament—

Because there were simply too many.

There was always the next genius, always the next superstar.

Kate?

Was no exception either.

One couldn't see any trace of Kate in her; she was Clementine, a woman from Venus bravely facing her true emotions.

Everything was natural, once again awakening the accolades that once surrounded Kate.

But the focus of the entire performance was Anson.

This was completely unexpected.

A quiet and introverted, reserved and shy man, who barely spoke throughout, always in a passive position, constantly evading and dodging, even his eyes were unclear, yet he set the tone for the entire scene.

Astonishing.

It wasn't just the expressions and lines; even in the shots without lines, the handling of eye contact, the details of body language, and even subtle changes like breathing, one could feel Joel's surging emotions in every aspect.

Anson truly breathed life into the character, allowing people to feel the conservatism, stubbornness, and steadfastness of this character, while also exuding a strange charm, even laying the core tone for the entire story in one fell swoop—

Déjà vu.

This wasn't obvious in Clementine because the film's narrative perspective started with Joel, using Joel to showcase that unnatural and abnormal sense of strangeness in the opening stage of the film.

At the same time, Clementine was originally an uninhibited character, so even if she felt that all of this was déjà vu, she accepted it casually without any burden.

Thus, all of this was presented through Joel.

Anson did a perfect job.

From involuntarily getting closer to being unable to extricate himself from the fall, to the intense moth-to-flame-like passion, he was awakened by the unfamiliarity, the stinging pain, and the overload, and hurriedly fled the scene in an almost runaway manner.

Weird and wonderful, cute and charming.

Those stiff and clumsy movements actually added a bit of quirky humor to the scene, with a slight cartoonish effect, but without exaggeration or excess, just enough to bring some lubricant to the whole scene—

Amazing.

Indeed, that was the word, completely amazing.

Despite the countless praises Anson received in the industry, and despite the crew's anticipation for Anson to bring about a chemical reaction, to be honest, on the balance between idol and actor, people's general impression of Anson began to slightly lean towards the idol, even if expectations were high, they were limited.

Rather than expecting Anson to deliver a brilliant performance, it was more about expecting Anson to once again use his personal charm to complete the character's interpretation.

Of course, Anson still showed personal charm, but it was completely different from expectations.

Gloomy, sorrowful, broken.

This Anson was completely different from any role or appearance in memory; it could even be said to be a 180-degree turn, yet he still brought a charming aura in the blue temperament.

Completely captivating.

But this charm, when colliding and merging with the character, produced a brand new chemical reaction, giving the scene and the story different colors.

More than just amazing.

Every smile, every move, was enough to make people fall.

Only now did people finally understand why everyone in Hollywood was constantly saying “Anson, Anson, Anson”—

Disdain. Scorn. Anger. Disgust. Complaint. Irritation.

Just now, the entire apartment was still soaked in negative emotions, shivering in the wind, and one could deeply feel each other's impatience and struggle in the exchange of glances.

But now, everything melted and disintegrated.

If someone asked why independent film crews, with their low wages, heavy workload, lack of returns, and low sense of accomplishment, might spend three to five years painstakingly shooting and producing a film only to have it screened in theaters for just two weeks before being taken down, making its release feel as if it never happened, essentially becoming a non-entity, why do people still generate electricity for love?

Passion.

Simply put, it was passion.

More specifically, it was for the moment when such a chemical reaction collided and transformed into a film.

After this scene happened, all the hardships, frustrations, and resentments seemed to vanish, no longer felt, leaving only joy and happiness, making everything worthwhile.

However!

Michel interrupted the filming, out of nowhere.

In an instant, all eyes gathered on Michel, those gazes making no attempt to hide their astonishment and surprise, sharply attacking Michel like arrows.

Michel realized he had become a porcupine with just one sentence, even clearly feeling the sharp edges sweeping across his skin, every pore feeling a burning pain.

Michel: Me???