Actor in Hollywood

"Sigh."

"We're all at a bit of a loss right now, so one by one, we're hiding in the trailer, sneaking glances at what's happening outside, like Eskimos."

Chris couldn't hold it in any longer, and the words slipped out of his mouth before he realized it. He paused a moment too late, then turned his head to make sure Brian was nowhere in sight. He looked up at the sky and let out a long sigh of relief.

Sigh.

Anson looked at Chris and chuckled softly. "You sighed again just now."

Chris was taken aback.

Anson immediately understood. "It seems things are worse than we thought."

Chris instinctively sighed again. This time, he noticed it, paused for a moment, and then shook his head with a helpless expression.

"I'm not sure if 'worse' is the right word, but we're definitely stuck. I'm not sure what I'm doing or what I should be doing."

"The director..."

Chris thought seriously.

"He seems to have a lot of ideas, but also none at all. I'm not sure if he actually knows what he wants."

"During the filming, he keeps feeling that something isn't right, but he has no clear idea of how to fix it."

"So every time we ask, no one gets a definite answer."

"The result is that none of us know what we're supposed to do. Standing in front of the camera, I feel like I've never acted before."

Chris smiled apologetically as he spoke.

"Sorry, I don't even know what I'm saying. None of this makes sense, right?"

Anson's lips curled up slightly. "No, no, I get it."

Chris looked surprised, clearly not believing him.

Anson chuckled softly—

He had just watched Brian direct a group of extras down the stairs and had a feeling.

Anson believed Brian probably had a rough outline of the story and characters in mind, but it was very vague and abstract, lacking a clear picture, so Brian had to keep experimenting and figuring it out.

Otherwise.

It was just a simple shot of extras walking down some stairs. Could the director really make something extraordinary out of it? This wasn't an art film, and the camera work, lighting, and composition weren't particularly special. No matter how unique the extras' entrance was, it was hard to see any difference. The director's outburst was truly hard to understand.

It wasn't that Anson looked down on Brian, but Brian wasn't Martin Scorsese or Béla Tarr. He had zero pursuit of camera work, and all his nitpicking and fine-tuning were just excuses.

Now, combining Chris's words with the scene he had just witnessed, it all made more sense.

This situation wasn't uncommon. Not every director is like Steven Spielberg, who has a hundred percent understanding of the film he's shooting, with every frame clear in his mind—

In fact, Steven is the exception.

Directors like Brian often lack their own cinematic language. There's no inherent connection between the camera work—composition, lighting, movement, transitions—and the story or characters. They rely more on the script's narrative, so their interactions with actors are often less about professionalism and more about exploration and trial and error.

Moreover, similar situations can manifest in different ways. Some directors gradually confirm the image in their mind during the collaboration, some struggle and wait for inspiration to strike, while others simply use this process to assert their authority.

So, actors have different ways and possibilities to handle and respond to this.

Anson met Chris's gaze. "Maybe you should stick to your own understanding."

Chris: "??? What do you mean?"

Anson: "Act the way you think it should be done."

Chris shook his head with a look that said, "Clearly, you still don't get it." "At first, I did perform according to my understanding, but didn't the director say it was wrong?"

Anson shrugged. "But the director didn't say how to make it right either."

Chris instinctively wanted to explain, but when the words reached his lips, he paused and tilted his head to think seriously: Why does this feel a bit off?

Anson tried to offer a possibility, a perspective. "Sometimes the director isn't sure what he wants either. It's less about nailing the details of the performance and more about finding the feel of the scene through repeated takes."

"So."

"You don't need to stress too much about adjusting your performance for each take. Trust your instincts and act according to your ideas."

Chris: ...

Carefully pondering Anson's words, "Wait, are you suggesting we ignore the director's instructions?" Chris's eyes widened, his mouth hung open in shock, and he was too surprised to respond. His brain momentarily froze.

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

Anson's eyes flashed with a hint of amusement, but he didn't show it. Instead, he rephrased his advice. "We should approach it from a different angle. The director and the actors should create from their own perspectives and see what sparks fly in the end."

"That's why the director hasn't set a framework or boundaries. He just keeps trying, so you should think independently too."

"If you believe your performance is right, then stick with it. No matter how many takes it takes, I doubt the director will notice any difference."

Chris blinked and swallowed unconsciously: Can you really do that?

Obviously, this isn't a good idea.

The director is the commander on set, and everyone, including the actors, needs to follow their lead. If actors just do whatever they want, it could be a disaster.

Especially for a small actor like Chris with no power or influence, clashing with the director could very well mean the end of his career.

But dealing with a director like Brian, this might actually work—

Treating the root cause.

Though Anson hadn't worked with many directors himself, he had met countless people and was unusually mature and wise for his age in matters of human nature.

For someone like Brian, if you blunt his edge, cooperate on the surface while holding back your own opinions, you can often turn big problems into small ones and simplify things.

The key is that Brian can't offer truly effective feedback on a professional level. What he needs is a kind of social compliance and satisfaction; simply put, as long as his desire to control the overall situation as a director is fulfilled, the actor can have more space to work professionally, even doing exactly what they want, and the director won't object.

Then, Anson added one more thing.

"Of course, if you think your performance is off, then think it over yourself, discuss it with your co-actors, and find a way to adjust together. This could be a chance."

"You know, the opportunity to explore a performance with your co-actors isn't something that comes around often."