Bit by bit, Scarlett's gloomy and frustrated mood brightened. Although her problem remained unsolved, the difference was:
She thought maybe Anson did have the answer.
Lowering her head, Scarlett looked at Anson again. "How did you do that? I mean, even if it was made up, it couldn't have been just gibberish."
"Imagination." Anson pointed to his head.
Scarlett didn't believe it. "Come on, I'm not a screenwriter. If I had such a rich imagination, I would have been sitting at a typewriter recording it all."
Anson laughed heartily. "I'm telling the truth."
Scarlett blinked, noticing the sincerity in Anson's eyes, and fell into deep thought again.
Anson continued to explain, "The imagination I'm talking about is using your understanding of the character and the story to construct a persona. Like I said before, even the most ordinary, boring, and mediocre person has their own life. The things they've experienced are the key to shaping who they are."
"What kind of personality leads to what kind of actions, what kind of experiences leave what kind of traces. Everything has clues, and every reaction naturally presented in front of the camera can be grounded in reality."
"In fact, the characters that appear in movies or TV shows are often not ordinary people, not even the supporting roles. Because when screenwriters create characters, they try to extract some drama or uniqueness."
"To some extent, the screenwriter has secretly left room for the actor to create."
"I think this is an unspoken understanding between good screenwriters and good actors, although it's not always the case."
Scarlett seemed to understand a little, but not completely. "Then, what's the difference between a screenwriter and an actor?"
As soon as she said it, Scarlett realized her question wasn't clear enough. She wanted to ask about the difference between how a screenwriter shapes a character and how an actor does, if both are trying to tell a story.
But there was no need to explain, Anson already understood.
"The focus. Or rather, the starting point."
"The screenwriter's starting point is the story; the character should serve the overall story."
"The actor's starting point is the character; the story is the result triggered by the character's actions."
"From another perspective, the screenwriter sees the big picture, while the actor sees the details. This difference determines that they are far apart."
"Therefore, the screenwriter creates the story and the character, while the actor breathes flesh and blood, and soul into the character."
"Analyzing the character, constructing the character, telling the story, it's one thing, yet it's several completely different things. Actors rely on their usual observations, daily accumulation, and rich imagination."
There was one more part, performance and interpretation.
But they weren't discussing that part now, so Anson didn't bring it up.
That's why some actors delve into their characters, using diaries or autobiographies to build the character's life bit by bit, creating a sense of reality. Or they personally experience the character's life, using their body to sense, their five senses to experience, letting details fill in the fiction little by little, finally landing on solid ground, giving the character a down-to-earth sense of reality.
Everything worked on this principle.
Of course, this was just theory. Anson himself hadn't reached that level yet:
Firstly, he hadn't encountered such a character that required deep digging, constructing a backstory, and establishing layers. Even "Catch Me If You Can" didn't count.
Secondly, his acting skills hadn't reached that level. To truly go from theory to practice, Anson estimated he would need to explore further.
Nevertheless, even so, this kind of discussion, exploration, and sharing was still very beneficial. Not only was Scarlett lost in thought, but Anson himself couldn't help but ponder, sharing his understanding and gains with his colleague, and waiting for feedback, exploring and reflecting on his own acting.
Scarlett pondered for a moment, then slightly tilted her head to look at Anson, trying to say something. The words were on the tip of her tongue, but she swallowed them back down. Then she looked up at the woman in the white shirt across the street.
Everything was just as Anson had said -
After calming down, she could see that there were logical loopholes behind Anson's words. Things weren't perfectly consistent. Looking back now, she could confirm that Anson probably didn't know that woman.
However, the rich and real details filled her mind, and even after calming down, the image of the woman remained vivid. She could easily picture her.
Impressive, he was truly impressive. No wonder Anson received so much praise in the industry. Sam Raimi was one thing, but Steven Spielberg and Tom Hanks weren't inexperienced bumpkins.
But that wasn't important now. This made Scarlett think about a question:
What was reality?
Was fictional reality also a kind of reality? At least in movies, it should be. Actors shaped their characters based on their own understanding and construction. Maybe the actor's understanding was different from the director's, the screenwriter's, or the producer's, but as long as the details were sufficient, the actor could complete their unique shaping and interpretation of the character.
This was the charm of acting.
Thinking of this, the world suddenly became clear.
Although Scarlett's questions remained unanswered, she had found her direction. She knew what to do next -
She was full of confidence.
After a brief period of low spirits and confusion, Scarlett was actually a little excited and eager, ready to get back in front of the camera and perform.
She knew her strengths and weaknesses, and she knew her goals and dreams.
Now, she couldn't wait to return to her battlefield.
Looking up, Scarlett looked at Anson.
That face wasn't unfamiliar. To be precise, it was more than just familiar. From summer to autumn, Anson had become the leading figure of the new generation, and the discussions about him were endless. However, looking at Anson again at this moment, Scarlett felt a sense of unfamiliarity, as if they were meeting for the first time.
About acting. About movies. About characters. About human psychology.
Clearly, Anson had his own ideas, and they weren't just any garbage thoughts. If she thought he was just a pretty face because of his looks, she might end up becoming the joke.
Involuntarily, Scarlett thought back to their first encounter.
A small accident, but Anson had already shown his ability to lie through his teeth, helping her find a brief respite in the dull and tedious daily life.
Thinking about it this way, the Anson in front of her didn't seem so unfamiliar anymore.
Maybe, from beginning to end, Anson was just Anson, and it was she who was trapped and deceived, unable to see clearly.
But every encounter with Anson seemed to bring unexpected gains. Beneath the seemingly same appearance, there were always different colors to be discovered.
Then...
Anson looked up, and their eyes met in the air. Scarlett's mind was racing, and she was caught off guard. She hurriedly looked away, her ears catching Anson's laughter from deep in his throat. She realized her actions were just making it more obvious, so she looked back again, meeting Anson's eyes openly and honestly.
Clear, bright, as if they could see through her disguise.