From Flower Vase to Film Emperor in Hollywood

Wave after wave, followed by wave after wave.

Endless, without end.

Ripley couldn't control her elation and excitement, using all her strength to barely suppress the urge to scream, quietly feeling the blood boil—

They did it.

From "Elephant" to "Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind," simply because of Anson, independent films outside the awards season system received incredible attention.

For this, Ripley was always grateful to Anson.

Who could have imagined that such a thankless task that Hollywood had never cared about would eventually be accomplished by an actor labeled as a vase and rejected and despised by the Academy?

Like "Cinema Paradiso".

Buzzing, buzzing, buzzing.

The constant noise, whispers, and excited chatter continued to surge, along with the roaring engines of vehicles coming and going on the parallel avenues on both sides of the street. The whole world was noisy.

This was clearly not the right environment to show a movie, but... it didn't matter.

Ripley took a deep breath and signaled to the projectionist.

Snap, snap, snap. With a burst of sound, all the surrounding lights went out, and office buildings and apartment buildings also cooperated by turning off their lights. Although the hazy lights of Manhattan still supported the night, the darkness in front of them was enough to remind the audience that the screening was about to begin.

The scene was not quiet, but even more noisy, even with whistles.

"Shh!"

Many people issued reminders, trying to quiet everyone down, but obviously, this was not an easy task.

Directly in front, the high-hanging screen occupied the entire outer wall of the Angelica Film Center, and the beam of the projector fell on it, grabbing everyone's attention.

That, unexpectedly, was Anson!

"Ahem, hey, good evening, I'm Anson-Wood."

A smile, gently raised.

In an instant, the audience who were making noise, the audience who were absent-minded and unable to calm down, the audience who were talking to each other because of excitement, and the audience who were trying to stop the noise all quieted down, their eyes turned to the big screen. The surprise without warning instantly grabbed their attention, and the passion burst out.

Ah! Ah ah ah!

Surprise, absolute surprise. The previous event promotion completely did not mention this, and as a result, Anson actually showed up, catching everyone off guard.

He was there, wearing a green bow tie with a white shirt, looking at the camera with a bright smile, joining this carnival feast.

In an instant, the heart exploded, the wildly beating heart was almost about to burst out of the chest, Blair lost control, cheering forgetfully and frantically.

Karen next to her was startled by Blair, but the two exchanged a look, and then both screamed, laughter stirring in their chests.

They kept shouting until their ears ached faintly.

"Heh, thank you, thank you for letting me truly feel the atmosphere of Manhattan at this moment. Without a doubt, this will be a wonderful night."

"Honestly, I'm a little jealous of you, after all, not just anyone can join this carnival."

Roar!

Karen raised her right hand high, taking the lead in booing, and the low roar at the entrance of the Angelica Film Center stirred up, echoing truly between the surrounding tall buildings. From the slight trembling of the window glass, you could deeply feel this energy—

A carnival, indeed.

"At this moment, I am... sorry, where I am is not important; what is important is that I am not in Manhattan and cannot attend tonight's screening."

"Oh. You are sighing, right? You are expressing regret, right? Sorry, this is not a live broadcast, I can't see the scene, I can only pretend to see your reactions, now everything is exposed."

Haha, hahaha.

Roaring with laughter.

Karen didn't laugh, but stared at Blair with a look of astonishment: This is not a live broadcast?

Blair was overjoyed, shaking her head repeatedly.

"In short, I am not on site, which is undoubtedly a pity."

"But I sincerely hope you can enjoy a wonderful night. So, now let us enter the world of Charlie Kaufman, like John Malkovich entering his own head."

Laughter, exploded again—

"Being John Malkovich" is equivalent to Charlie's famous work, and it is also Charlie's most widely circulated film so far.

With a casual little joke, Anson silently completed the guidance, shifting the audience's attention from him to Charlie.

Get ready for the movie.

The video short ended, and without pausing, the movie began playing.

Seamless connection.

The entrance of the Angelica Film Center was slightly stunned, obviously not realizing such a turning point, but immediately, cheers and whistles surged up.

Moreover, the movie started immediately, and the Focus Features title only lasted for three seconds; immediately afterwards, Anson's stubble-covered face appeared on the big screen—

Roar!

A cheer came from the crowd, but this time it didn't last long, and then it quieted down. From Anson to Anson, the same face was completely different, easily making people realize the difference between reality and film, instantly dragging thoughts and concentration into the world of light and shadow.

Everything happened so fast that before the audience could prepare themselves mentally, the screening had already begun; but from another perspective, the audience had been waiting for this moment and was already ready, and now they directly entered the state.

In the entire dark blue-toned picture, the camera aimed at a close-up of Anson's face, recording every detail of the facial features and contours of that face in detail.

I have to say, Anson's face can withstand the test of the big screen, even the full presentation of the super-large screen is still eye-catching.

Obviously, the face in front of me is not good—

Stubble-covered, with a dazed look, and you can see faint dark circles under the eyes, sweating on the forehead, dazed and at a loss. Not only is he sloppy but also tired, as if he had just experienced a week of continuous overtime torture and finally was able to rest for a day, but couldn't sleep because of the noisy mosquitoes. Overdrafted after overdraft, this is the vicissitudes of life in front of you.

Those blue eyes, the focus collapsed, without emotion or waves, looking at the ceiling with no love for life, but unable to distinguish whether it was not awake or upset, just felt that even breathing was too much trouble.

Getting out of bed is also the same, like a turtle turned over, always struggling but powerless, the limbs stiffly and clumsily floundered for a while, finally managed to sit up, but sat there in a daze with a splitting headache.

It's just getting out of bed, but it's as if fighting with a whale.

Office workers understand this mood: everyone hates Mondays.