From Flower Vase to Film Emperor in Hollywood

NBC Television, live broadcast—

Upon receiving a signal from a staff member, Anson didn't rush to the stage immediately. Instead, he stood in place, adjusted his breathing, and made sure he was ready.

Then, he started walking.

With imposing manner and composure, he walked as if he were stepping onto the runway of Paris Fashion Week.

Clap, clap, clap, clap.

Applause rippled out, polite but not enthusiastic, creating another contrast with the hustle and bustle backstage.

The guests in the banquet hall needed to present a perfect image of propriety and generosity on camera, reserving all their passion and enthusiasm for the award winners. They really didn't have any extra energy to spare for an award presenter—

This was the norm.

After all, award presenters weren't the highlight.

Moreover, it was Anson.

Seeing Anson standing under the spotlight again, seeing that unconventional suit again, memories that hadn't quite died resurfaced.

Vaguely, that atmosphere reappeared: scrutiny and assessment of "Let's see how you perform," as if entering an audition.

The applause surged briefly and politely, then spontaneously ended, returning to silence, as millions of eyes fell on Anson.

Unhurried, Anson stood in front of the floor microphone, standing straight, but not rushing to speak. He paused slightly, revealing a smile.

"Music, an indispensable part of film, can always create atmosphere on an auditory level, allowing the audience to feel the emotions conveyed by the visuals."

"The same scene, the same characters, can convey completely different emotions because of different musical scores. This is one of the charms of film."

"For example."

The first half was conventional, just the lines written by the award ceremony's scriptwriters, existing to connect the segments and introduce the award to the audience—

That was all.

Moreover, awards like Best Original Score were often difficult to fill with jokes. Even if the presenter wanted to showcase their humor, it was incredibly difficult.

Anson's performance… no surprises, but no mistakes either. That was all. The banquet hall was completely calm and uneventful.

Heh, surprising?

Of course not, it was expected. A pretty face, what else could you expect? You could tell from today's red carpet fashion that he was purely trying to attract attention and harvest some buzz with his styling.

That was all.

However.

Amidst the scrutinizing gazes, Anson changed the subject.

"For example."

Music started—

This… it was actually the classic score from the "Tom and Jerry" cartoon.

Wait, huh?

Tap, tap-tap-tap.

The banquet hall initially thought there was an accident during the live broadcast, a problem with the sound system, and their attention was slightly distracted. But before they could figure out what was happening, their eyes were drawn to the figure on the stage in front of them.

Anson, was dancing.

The most classic and widely circulated dance from "Singin' in the Rain."

Light and agile steps, free and easy movements, flowing body.

A series of dazzling steps tapped to the dense and cheerful cartoon music, spinning out, and then returning to the microphone in a series of glides and turns.

Only a short three to five seconds.

The audience hadn't even had time to react before Anson had returned to the microphone, looking towards the award ceremony director with a slightly confused expression.

"Uh, that's not what we discussed."

"Tom and Jerry" paired with "Singin' in the Rain," a slapstick cartoon soundtrack with tap dance, completely different types and styles colliding like this.

It was truly… hilarious.

The comedic effect was immediate.

But that still wasn't all.

Without pausing, the music started again, this time it was—

Haha, hahaha.

A low laughter rippled through the banquet hall. The music was actually the most thrilling, exciting, and classic part of the climax of "Jaws," familiar and well-known.

And Anson?

"Jazz!"

The standard jazz hand, both palms open, elbows at the waist, arms open, gently waving his hands, the opening of a jazz dance.

Smart guests immediately deciphered the hint and instantly came to a conclusion.

"Chicago!"

Sure enough, the prediction was accurate.

Anson was performing a segment from "Chicago," the work that had revived the golden age of musical films this year, instantly igniting the entire venue.

The posture, the movements, the expression, and the eyes, were all one hundred percent accurate.

In fact, professionals could immediately tell that Anson had completely learned this at the last minute. His fundamentals were lacking, the details couldn't stand scrutiny, it was just a facade, definitely not from a professional background.

However, this wasn't important—

Because the music was… "Jaws."

Even if Anson was more professional and dedicated, the jazz dance still had a fishy smell, it looked wrong no matter how you looked at it, even a bit comical.

Who could pay attention to the details of Anson's dance at this time?

Smiles had already crept onto the corners of their mouths unconsciously.

A jazz segment, slightly longer, but only four eight-counts. Anson returned to the microphone again, and before he could shout, the next music started again, and he could only hear Anson's words half a beat late.

"No, no…"

However, this time, Anson didn't dance again, but stood in front of the microphone, grabbing the microphone with both hands, his expression serious, switching into serious mode in a second—

Lip-syncing rap.

Because the music playing at this time was Eminem's theme song of the same name for his semi-autobiographical film "8 Mile," which was also a hot award contender this year.

Although Anson wasn't as good as Eminem, the lyrics probably couldn't keep up. But the point was that Anson had the attitude, the gestures, and the expressions.

That look, he was simply Eminem incarnate.

After a short four eight-counts, Anson stood up straight, holding an imaginary microphone in his right hand, released his right hand, and made a mic drop gesture.

Clap.

Although there was no actual microphone falling, the sound system still transmitted the muffled sound of a microphone hitting the ground, punctuating the performance with a perfect ending.

Buzz.

As if a pebble had been dropped into a calm pool, the ripples quickly spread out.

The entire venue, was plunged into shock—

Unexpected, completely unexpected, Anson actually staged this, using the misalignment of music and dance to present the atmosphere of the soundtrack, which was more direct and impactful than any language or explanation.

For a moment, they didn't know how to react, and their brains were briefly blank.

This scene broke the expectations of the entire venue from different visual and auditory levels.

Anson, with long arms and legs, although he had no dance background, his movements and lines were very beautiful. Coupled with a suit, the unrestrained and handsome visual effect completely subverted the entire venue, stealing the spotlight from everyone before they could react.

The stage, brightly lit, seemed like a spotlight followed Anson like a shadow.

Question marks and shocks, they didn't even have time to pick faults and sneer before they were swept into the storm. Their brains were briefly blank, and everything disappeared—

What just happened? Wait, something seems a little bit wrong.