Actor in Hollywood

Scarlett's mood relaxed slightly, but the problem still lingered, unresolved. Reality quickly brought her back down. "That may be true, but he's still the director."

"It's not that he's particularly important," Scarlett added, tugging at the corner of her mouth in self-deprecation.

"He's the director, and he has expectations for the performance and the character, but I can't meet them. That's a failure as an actor. I don't even know what's going on in my head. When I'm in front of the camera, I feel like an idiot."

"I thought I had thoroughly studied the character, that I knew the character inside and out, but when the director criticized me, my mind went completely blank."

Scarlett paused here, the scene from the shoot earlier coming back into focus, bringing with it another wave of frustration, which was evident in the look of disappointment on her face.

Anson interjected at just the right moment, "Are you talking about the situation every actor might encounter?"

Scarlett didn't understand. "Every actor?"

Anson nodded, "There's a state in the world of acting where, without warning and with no way to resist, the brain goes completely blank. You can't remember any lines, anything about the character, or the plot. You just stand there like a puppet with its strings cut."

"Almost every actor experiences this."

"Even the legendary actors from Broadway and London's West End are no exception."

In the pre-internet era, Scarlett hadn't heard of this happening before. She looked at Anson with eyes full of doubt, sizing him up.

Scarlett asked, "Even Judi Dench?"

Anson nodded, "Of course."

Scarlett continued, "And Laurence Olivier?"

Anson confirmed, "Absolutely."

His tone was so certain and straightforward that it left no room for doubt, causing Scarlett to pause, her internal balance quietly shifting.

For a moment, Scarlett couldn't tell if it was because Anson was so convincing or if she just wanted to believe him so badly that she accepted it as truth.

Anson wasn't making things up—

In the future, with the proliferation of information, the secrets of the acting world would gradually come to light. People would realize that actors aren't infallible superhumans. They get nervous, make mistakes, forget their lines, and mess up, even seasoned veterans. But it's precisely this margin for error that makes acting so fascinating:

A mistake can make things worse, or it can lead to something extraordinary.

Mistakes are scary, but not as terrifying as they seem. How an actor handles mistakes is the true test of their skill.

Scarlett's understanding of the world wavered slightly. She had always believed that making a mistake meant she wasn't good enough, leading her to doubt herself. But if every actor could make mistakes, wouldn't that change things?

Scarlett looked at Anson, hesitating slightly, "What about you? Have you ever experienced it?"

Anson didn't pander to Scarlett, "Unfortunately, not yet."

Scarlett rolled her eyes.

"Haha," Anson burst out laughing, "Just because it hasn't happened yet doesn't mean it won't in the future; just because I haven't experienced it doesn't mean other actors haven't."

"Trust me, I'm serious."

"Actors might make mistakes, and it's okay to make mistakes. Nobody wants to screw up, look like a fool in front of the director, or stand on the Broadway stage unsure of what to do. Nobody wants to expose their weaknesses to the world. But more important than making mistakes is how you view them."

This time, Scarlett listened closely, watching Anson, waiting for him to continue.

Anson said, "Maybe some people give up on themselves, doubt their talent, and quit acting altogether, only proving others' critiques right and missing the chance to prove themselves forever."

Scarlett silently flipped him the bird, "Ha. Ha."

Anson continued, "Or maybe they completely ignore the mistake, pretend it didn't happen, deceive themselves, and just keep muddling through, repeating the same mistakes over and over."

Scarlett paused, chewing on his words. She hadn't realized it, but she was starting to get curious, "What else?"

Anson didn't leave her hanging, continuing, "Or they could face the mistake head-on, examine it, reflect on it, and explore it—not to break through, but to find their own path as an actor."

"Acting doesn't have a correct answer. The only thing you can trust is your own intuition. Even the director can't tell you if your judgment is right or wrong. They can decide whether they like it or not, but they can't make the decision for you."

"In Europe, the film industry has always been director-centric. They believe the director is the soul of the film. In America, it's producer-centric because producers determine the film's commercial aspects. But whether in Europe or America, films are ultimately presented to the audience through the actor."

"The actor is the face people see."

"So, while actors need to collaborate with the director, producer, writer, and the whole crew, in the end, it's still up to the actor to do their work, to collaborate with themselves."

Scarlett listened carefully, her thoughts expanding with Anson's words, and she became lost in thought.

Anson stopped there, leaving space for Scarlett to process her thoughts, glancing up at the sky, giving her time to reflect.

Scarlett was a smart girl, as Anson had noticed during their first two encounters.

In her early career, she was considered a naturally gifted actress with a unique quality—wild, raw, and unpolished, a kind of innate talent that shone without needing refinement. She had always tried to break free from the stereotypical expectations imposed by her appearance and find her own path as an actress.

The general public might only see a pretty face, but as an actor, Scarlett had always been exploring.

Now, Anson's words had sparked a small flame in her mind.

As she pondered his words, she felt like she understood a little, but not completely, and she turned to Anson with a glimmer of light in her eyes.

"Does Spielberg know you're such a rebel?"

A small joke.

Anson remained calm, "I'm sure he's smarter than we think."

"Haha," Scarlett laughed out loud, giving Anson a curious look before finally giving in to her curiosity, "So how do you approach studying a character?"

After asking, Scarlett realized her question was too abrupt and too broad. She thought for a moment and then added,

"I thought I had carefully studied the character, felt confident in my performance. I knew the character's state and emotions, understood the character's place in the plot, and recognized the role's significance in driving the story forward."

"But when I stood in front of the camera, the director kept telling me my performance was off."

"Oh God, I have no idea what went wrong. I tried talking to the director, but he just rambled on, which didn't solve the problem and only confused me more. It was so frustrating."

"Could it be that my understanding of the character is flawed? How should I approach understanding the character, or rather, how do I truly become one with the character?"