From Flower Vase to Film Emperor in Hollywood

“Sigh.”

“We’re all a bit lost right now, so we’re hiding in our trailers, peeking out like Eskimos, trying to figure out what’s going on.”

Chris couldn't hold back any longer. The words just tumbled out of his mouth. It took him a beat to realize what he'd said. He turned to check that Brian wasn't around, then looked up at the sky and let out a long sigh of relief.

Sigh.

Anson looked at Chris, a wry smile on his face. “You sighed again.”

Chris was taken aback.

Anson immediately understood. “Looks like things are worse than we thought.”

Chris instinctively sighed again. This time, he caught himself, paused, and shook his head with a helpless expression.

“I’m not sure if ‘worse’ is the right word, but we’re definitely in a bind. I'm not sure what I'm doing, or what I should be doing.”

“The director…”

Chris thought carefully.

“He seems to have a lot of ideas, but also seems to have none at all. I’m not even sure if he has any ideas at all.”

“During filming, he always thinks this is wrong and that is wrong, but he has no idea how to adjust it.”

“Anyway, whenever we ask, no one can get a straight answer.”

“The result is, none of us are sure what to do. Standing in front of the camera, I feel like I've never acted before.”

As he spoke, Chris gave an apologetic smile.

“Sorry, I don’t even know what I’m saying. None of this makes sense, does it?”

Anson’s lips curved slightly upward. “No, no, I understand.”

Chris looked surprised, disbelieving.

Anson chuckled inwardly—

He had just watched Brian direct the extras down the stairs and felt a sense of understanding.

Anson believed that Brian should have a general outline of the story and the characters, but this outline was very vague and abstract, without a clear picture, so Brian needed to constantly explore and research.

Otherwise.

It was just walking down the stairs, just a transition shot of an extra entering the scene. Could the director really make a flower out of it? This wasn't an art film. The camera, lighting, composition, etc., were all unremarkable. No matter how special the extras' entrance was, it would be difficult to see the difference. The director's outburst was truly incomprehensible.

It wasn't that Anson looked down on Brian, but Brian wasn't Martin Scorsese or Béla Tarr. His pursuit of the camera was basically zero. All those entanglements and carvings were just excuses.

Now, combined with Chris's words, that scene wasn't so difficult to understand.

This situation wasn't uncommon. Not all directors could be like Steven Spielberg, having a 100% detailed understanding of the movies they made, with every scene in their minds—

To be precise, Steven was in the minority.

Directors like Brian often didn't have their own cinematic language. There was no necessary connection between the camera language (composition, lighting, pacing, transitions, etc.) and the plot, characters, etc. They relied more on the story in the script, so their interactions with the actors often had nothing to do with professionalism, but were more of an exploration, a deliberation.

Anson: “Act the way you think you should.”

Chris shook his head, with an expression that said, “See, you still don’t understand.” “In the beginning, of course, I acted according to my own understanding, but the director said it wasn’t right.”

Anson shrugged. “But the director didn’t say how it should be done.”

Subconsciously, Chris wanted to explain, but the words caught in his throat and he paused, tilting his head and thinking seriously: Why did he feel that something was wrong with what Anson said?

Anson tried to offer a possibility, a point of view. “Sometimes the director can’t be sure what he wants. Rather than nitpicking acting details, it’s more about finding the feel of a scene, constantly refining it through repeated shooting.”

“So.”

“You don’t need to dwell on how to adjust your performance each time you shoot. Instead, trust your instincts and follow your own ideas.”

Chris: …

Pondering Anson’s words, “Wait, do you mean ignore the director’s opinion?” Chris widened his eyes, opened his mouth, and froze in place, so surprised and shocked that he didn’t know how to react. His brain malfunctioned.

It was obvious that this kid was still too young and hadn't been tainted by Hollywood yet, habitually treating the director's words as gospel.

A smile flashed in Anson's eyes, but he didn't show it on his face. Instead, he changed his approach. “We should understand it from a different angle. The director and the actors are completing artistic creation according to their own ideas, and see if they can create sparks in the end.”

“Precisely because of this, the director hasn’t given a framework or boundary, just trying again and again, so you should also think independently.”

“If you think your performance is correct, then stick to it. No matter how many times you NG, I don’t think the director can see the difference.”

Chris blinked, not even realizing he swallowed. Could it really be like this?

Obviously, this wasn't a good idea.

The director was the commander of the set, and everyone, including the actors, needed to follow his instructions. If the actors went their own way and acted according to their own will, it would probably be a disaster.

Especially for a small, powerless actor like Chris, the result of a conflict with the director could very well be to ruin his own career.

But facing a director like Brian, this was a way—

Treat the disease with the right medicine.

Although Anson himself hadn't experienced many directors, he had read countless people and had a maturity and wisdom in dealing with people that didn't match his age.

With a type like Brian, avoiding his sharp edge, cooperating on the surface but reserving opinions, could often turn big problems into small ones and small problems into nothing, making things simple.

The key was that Brian couldn't give truly effective opinions on a “professional” level. What he needed was a kind of social compliance, a kind of satisfaction. Simply put, as long as you could satisfy Brian's desire to control the overall situation as a director, the actors could get more space in their professional work, even completely according to their own ideas, and the director wouldn't refuse.

Then, Anson added another sentence.

“Of course, if you think your performance is wrong, then think for yourself, discuss it with your co-star, and find a way to work together. This can also be considered an opportunity.”

“You know, opportunities to explore acting methods by relying on yourself and your co-stars aren’t that many, actually.”