TMZ, the celebrity gossip website, noticed a subtle detail that others had temporarily overlooked amid all the hustle and bustle.
Undoubtedly, Anson was the center of attention. His flash event had caught everyone off guard, leaving them following his lead. All eyes were focused on the event and its aftermath, so no one paid attention to other details.
TMZ was no different.
Paparazzi were scattered across North America, constantly gathering and updating information, competing for exclusive stories in this fast-paced news era. But amidst the chaos, Harry Percy spotted a connection—a subtle but real one.
Harry Percy had crossed paths with Anson several times before, and he was always on high alert. He knew Anson was no easy opponent and required his full attention.
This flash event was already surprising enough, but Harry's gut told him there was more to it.
Unlike Hollywood professionals, Harry had a different perspective. He believed the flash event seemed too simple, mechanical, and monotonous.
Think about it: The core of a flash event is the element of surprise. But after ten or twenty repetitions, it loses its appeal, the excitement fades, and all that remains is fatigue. Eventually, it turns into a mechanical routine, and the surprise is no longer surprising.
While high exposure is good, too much exposure can be a bad thing.
As the event reaches its midpoint and loses its freshness, both the media and the audience will stop paying attention. Sure, small towns on the East Coast might still welcome it enthusiastically, but big cities like New York, Philadelphia, Miami, and Boston will lose interest.
In Harry's view, the event might hit a wall by the time it reaches Chicago or Atlanta, and from there, it could drop off a cliff, with no one caring anymore. All that would be left would be superficial pleasantries and official interactions.
At that point, the real challenge begins.
After all, as Hollywood professionals have pointed out, the cities that drive box office sales and boost ticket numbers are the densely populated ones. Setting aside the limited population of small towns, how many people living in rural or suburban areas are actually willing to buy tickets and go to the movies?
This is the 21st century, after all. With so many entertainment options, movie theaters are no longer the first choice for passing time.
In fact, according to statistics, the "golden age" of cinema ended long before the introduction of color films.
In 1939, "Gone with the Wind" became a milestone as the first large-scale color film production, marking the maturity of color film technology. However, color films didn't become mainstream until the 1960s, and by then, cinema attendance had already begun to decline.
In the 1920s and 1930s, 75% of North America's population went to the movies. But by the 1960s, that number had dropped to 50%, and it never recovered, continuing to decline until after the millennium when it fell below 20%, with no signs of stopping.
In other words, while the number of moviegoers and box office revenue might be increasing, when you consider population percentages and inflation, the market share of cinema has been in decline for the past half-century. The so-called golden age of Hollywood wasn't in the 1960s or 1970s—it was even further back, in the 1920s and 1930s.
The same holds true today.
Why do movie studios focus their marketing on big cities?
Because that's where the dense populations are, and more importantly, most of the people who are still willing to buy movie tickets live in these cities.
So, isn't the promotional plan for "Catch Me If You Can" risking losing sight of the big picture?
What happens if all the key cities in the densely populated East Coast reject the event?
Harry could see it, so wouldn't Anson?
Actually, the best way to avoid fatigue is to strike fast and hard.
While the freshness and buzz are still strong, pick five to ten major cities, make appearances, surprise people, interact, and then announce the event's conclusion, leaving everyone wanting more. This way, the buzz and attention gradually shift to second- and third-tier cities, with the core markets driving interest in the surrounding areas.
Instead of dragging out the event and risking it losing momentum like it is now.
When Anson appeared in Boise, Harry found it odd.
Initially, Harry thought it was just a gesture—a way to signal to the public that Anson might show up in small cities, keeping everyone on their toes and giving hope that audiences in smaller cities might be drawn into the theaters.
Like fishing.
But in reality, Anson would still focus on the big cities, making a token appearance in one or two small cities on the East Coast at most.
That would be the smart strategy.
But that's not what happened.
Anson wasn't just teasing—he was actually visiting a series of small, sparsely populated cities in the Midwest, and the pace of the flash event began to slow.
It was strange, and the more Harry looked, the stranger it seemed.
Harry didn't believe Anson was naive enough not to see the pros and cons of this approach.
So, why did Anson still choose this path?
Could Anson have miscalculated this time, failing to think it through?
No, Harry didn't think so. Having dealt with Anson before, he knew what Anson was capable of. If this was a marketing plan devised by DreamWorks or Universal, maybe it wasn't fully thought out; but since it was Anson's idea, Harry was convinced there was more to it.
Either there was a hidden twist in the flash event, or there was a grander plan in motion.
Or perhaps Anson had a backup plan.
Observation, connection, inference.
Harry caught the link in countless photos:
The outfits.
A flash of inspiration hit Harry, and he grasped the truth.
In every city, at every appearance, Anson changed his outfit!
At this point, professionals would definitely scoff.
"Come on, what's the big deal? This is standard practice during promotional tours. Actors are expected to change their outfits constantly. If the media caught an actor wearing the same outfit twice, that would be news. Even male actors would be embarrassed."
Of course, there are exceptions, like actors who cultivate a laid-back persona and stick to the same T-shirt and jeans look, but that's another story.
Don't forget, Anson first made waves with his "GQ" cover, breaking into the spotlight with fashion.
So, there's no way his agent or stylist would make such an obvious mistake. This was just routine.
But Harry didn't see it that way.
Changing outfits for each event? That's normal.
But changing outfits for every appearance, not just at the movie meet-and-greets, but at every single public sighting—at the airport, in the car, before and after fan events—literally changing outfits like a chameleon with each public appearance? That's not normal.
Each outfit showcased a progression of style and fashion trends? That's even more abnormal.
It was like collecting breadcrumbs, piecing them together to reveal a grand scheme and glimpse the full scope of Anson's hidden strategy.
Boom.
Harry's mind exploded.