The amount of information was overwhelming!
For a moment, Gus didn't know where to start; shock and surprise, excitement and anticipation all surged at once.
His brain froze for a second.
So.
What came out of his mouth was just what his eyes saw:
A head of blonde hair.
Anson followed Gus's gaze and glanced at his own hair.
"Ha, this is a wig."
As he spoke, Anson casually took off the wig.
Gus stood there, dumbfounded, jaw dropped, likely unable to snap out of it for a while.
"Isn't that how it always goes in the movies? Spies need a little disguise, maybe James Bond is the only exception."
Anson had quietly left Los Angeles and arrived in Portland, but he wasn't naive enough to fully trust that paparazzo. On one hand, he made a deal with him, and on the other, he was prepared for anything.
Who would've thought that not only did Anson avoid keeping a low profile, but he was also walking around with a "light bulb" on his head?
Anyway, no one recognized Anson along the way.
Oh, except Jack! Jack should be the first one.
Of course, that's not all.
"Also, I'm trying to reconnect with my high school self, to feel that youthful mindset again."
Gus: …
After a pause, Gus couldn't help but say, "But you're not even twenty yet; high school was only two years ago, right?"
"Ah," Anson opened his mouth. Actually, high school memories felt so distant, but it didn't matter. "You see, two years in your world is only one twenty-fifth of your life, a blink of an eye; but in our world, two years is a tenth, a long and difficult tenth, almost like it was last century."
Last century—
Strictly speaking, Anson was correct, as his high school years were indeed in the 20th century.
A double meaning.
Gus couldn't hold back his laughter, "So, what about the hair?"
Anson shrugged lightly, "You know, we all make some stupid decisions during our teenage years to prove how unique we are."
"Like getting an ugly tattoo, dressing oddly in a graduation photo, or leaving some pseudo-philosophical nonsense in the yearbook."
"Or getting a haircut that's an absolute disaster."
Anson tossed the wig into the air.
"Sometimes, we know why we do these things; but more often, we have no clue at all. Maybe a friend egged us on, maybe it was a spur-of-the-moment decision, and then it just happened."
"God, we have so much to figure out during those teenage years, right?"
From Los Angeles to Portland, Anson had been pondering the character's psychology—
Although the character was also a high school student, he was completely different from the ones in *The Princess Diaries* or *Spider-Man*. Those characters' ordinariness was relative, but in *Elephant*, the ordinariness was absolute.
This character had no protagonist aura; everything about him was ordinary.
Just like…Jack.
So, when creating the first two characters, Anson could find their arcs and grounding, which is typical in movies; but this time, it was different.
In movies, characters often have an arc; they grow, they change.
In reality, however, people don't always have an arc; they might never grow, stay stuck in the same place, even regress instead of progress, or just give up entirely.
This meant that in *Elephant*, Anson's performance shouldn't be about finding an arc or narrative but about finding a state—
A true state.
That's not an easy task.
People often think "being yourself" is the simplest, easiest thing; but in reality, it's not. In real life, people often wear layers of masks, hiding their true selves well.
Because being real often means being vulnerable.
The same goes for actors. They get used to performing, in movies, in shows, in everyday life. Over time, even they can't take off the mask and can't identify where their true self is hidden.
When an actor needs to remove the mask and show their true self in front of the camera or on stage, it becomes the most difficult task.
No mask, no armor, just a state of total vulnerability.
Anson recalled what those carefree, worry-free teenage years were like, but time's dust had covered the original appearance of those memories so thoroughly that he couldn't be sure of their truth.
He thought those years were happy, with his father's business still intact and his parents' marriage still stable. He walked down the school hallways, his steps dancing in the sunlight.
But that wasn't entirely true.
When he calmed down, what came to mind wasn't happiness or beauty but those small, trivial worries and unexplainable confusion—
Homework. Teachers. Classmates. Girls. Pocket money.
All these worries filled the corners of his days: frustration over not getting an ice pop during recess, glee when his best friend got caught daydreaming by a teacher, being teased by friends for receiving a love letter on the way home from school.
It wasn't until he grew up that he realized those worries were sweet.
The wig gave Anson an inspiration—
"I'm not sure, maybe I saw Justin Timberlake perform once, or maybe it was Nick Carter, and on impulse, I dyed my hair blonde."
"I thought dyeing my hair would change my situation at school, help me talk to the girl I liked; or maybe it was just a form of rebellion, a protest against my father's drinking, which I was powerless to stop."
"I, uh, I just wanted to change something, hoping that life would change too."
"But now, I realize I was wrong."
"Right?"
Lost, confused, sensitive.
In just a few words, Anson painted a vivid picture of a teenager in Gus's mind—
Who says Anson is just a pretty face?
Who says that!
Gus could hardly believe it; could things get any better?
His worries didn't materialize, and Anson's connection with the character far exceeded his expectations. The camera's visuals just flowed naturally.
Gus was excited.
He curiously asked, "Did you come up with all this yourself?"
Anson smiled, "Without a script to guide me, I had to rely on myself. But this is just an idea, not fully formed yet. After reading the script, we can slowly adjust according to the character…"
"No script." Gus interrupted Anson.
Anson froze, "Huh?"
He was telling the truth. Even though the memory of watching *Elephant* in his past life lingered, since Gus wanted to choose an ordinary student for the role, it meant the actor needed to bring part of themselves into the film.
Anson was just being himself. Naturally, this *Elephant* would be different too.
But Anson was counting on the script, and now—
Gus repeated, "No script."
"That's why I tried to choose ordinary students from here. Whatever you usually say or do, I'll just capture it with the camera."
"No script needed."
"Oh, by the way, your characters in the movie will all use your real names."