The Greatest Showman

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The bar is extremely lively and noisy. The entire crew is preparing for the first scene. Stanley Charlesson and George Slender have come to Pioneer Village in person, and even Woody Allen. The little old man also unexpectedly appeared at the scene, and the bustling atmosphere made people addicted.

But it was really too sultry, almost breathless, as if the limbs were tightly bound, no matter how struggling, it was useless, and the drowning feeling of suffocation made the whole person sink bit by bit.

He almost fled, pushed open the back door, and quietly left the crowd, just wanting to escape, far away, he didn't even know where he wanted to escape.

The cold and fresh air rushed into the lungs in an instant, and the world became quiet in an instant.

In a trance, time seems to be turning back between my fingers, back to the cold winter three years ago, back to the time before "Pacific War" was broadcast, before "Buried Alive" was released, back to being alone for a dream The time when I came to New York is back to the time when I was smashed into the blood but still proudly refused to admit defeat.

Lowering his eyes, his eyes fell on the cigarette between his fingers, and a smile appeared on the corner of his mouth, but he couldn't tell whether it was bitter or sarcastic. He hasn't pulled out a cigarette for a long time, this habit has gradually disappeared, but today, he has returned to that moment of deja vu again.

Just like the fragments of childhood in the memory just now, everything completely blurs the concept of time, the length of three years disappears in an instant, and everything happened yesterday.

Sometimes, Renly couldn't help but wonder, is this all reincarnation?

After going around for a while, the role of LeVern Davis still came into his hands, as if destined.

Inspired by "Don Quixote" and based on Dave Van Rank, the Coen brothers created the character of Le Verne Davis and the story of "Drunken Country Ballad", but in fact, it is based on him The experience created this semi-autobiographical story belonging to "Renly Hall"; in other words, he was once Dave Van Langke, then became Chu Jiashu, and now becomes Renly Hall, What about the future?

It's a ridiculous idea, but is it really ridiculous?

The smile on the corners of his mouth rose involuntarily, and he chuckled softly. No thinking, no precipitation, or even analysis.

Everything is really too familiar, you just need to be in it, you can't tell the difference, the boundary between reality and illusion is completely broken - or, it has never existed, the hazy halo in the line of sight slowly shrouded When I opened it, it seemed that I could clearly capture the trajectory of the flow of time, and then I returned to the cold winter in early 2010.

Tonight, now, now, now.

He was working part-time in Pioneer Village, waiting for a chance to perform at a show, which was how he made a living. Not as a waiter, but as a performer, because he was an artist, and the hit "Cleopatra" became the best way to make a living, although every night's income was very Meager, but at least buy a pack of cigarettes or a bottle of beer.

At the same time, he was waiting for his chance, the call from the union, the invitation from the show, the call from the dream.

Lightly biting the cigarette holder, ready to light the cigarette, but a touch of bitterness came from the tip of the tongue, and the movement stopped just like that. I don't know if the taste is the original taste of the cigarette or the taste of emotions, and the focus gradually began to blur. There was a hint of confusion and confusion; but it was only fleeting for a moment, then after blinking, he let out a long breath, put the cigarette in his mouth again, and told himself that he was right.

These insistences are correct.

On this path of dreams and art, he is a wanderer who walks alone, but even if he runs barefoot in the ice and snow, he will proudly raise his head and insist on reaching the end.

madness?

Those who give up insisting on themselves for the sake of life, for money, and for the sake of profit gradually cover up all their edges and individuality, and become the same face in real life, like a marionette, that is the real stupidity . Let's say Jim, let's say Troy, let's say... Jane.

If you lose your original heart, if you lose your faith as an artist, if you lose your original intention as a creator, then he is no longer him, just another product on the assembly line, for the sake of Life is hard and rushing, loses himself, and spends his life meaningless, mediocre, vulgar and vulgar, which also means that the music he creates will lose its spirituality, the art he creates will no longer be moving, and what he leaves behind The brand will also disappear completely, completely annihilated in the vast sea of ​​people.

Instead of lingering on like this, it is better to hang him and let him say goodbye to this world completely.

Therefore, even if his mouth is full of bitterness, even if it is freezing cold, even if he is bruised and bruised, he refuses to change. Even burning life.

"Bang", there was a loud noise behind him, "Get ready, it's your turn to play." A shout suddenly exploded in the air, shouting impatiently, "Le Verne? Wayne!"

Yes, he's LeVine Davis, and he needs to be on stage.

He looked down at the cigarette at his fingertips. He originally wanted to smoke a cigarette, but he couldn't light it, so he raised his head and responded.

, "Hmm." Then he put the cigarettes back into the cigarette case, walked quickly into the door, and passed through the long and narrow back kitchen passage. His line of sight suddenly became clear, and at a glance, he saw the stage in the center.

Standing on the side platform, he thought for a while, but took off his suit jacket and hung it on the hanger next to him.

The wet patch on the back looked a bit comical; but it seemed less important than the raised sleeves and hem of the suit.

I found my guitar in the corner, holding the guitar in one hand, rubbing my hair casually with the other hand, shaking all the water vapor that was just outside the door, and then walked straight onto the stage. The wooden chair in the center sat down, hugged the guitar in his arms, pressed the strings lightly, and traced them a few times with his fingertips to confirm that the tightness of the strings was in line with his habit.

The dull guitar strings rumbled irregularly, walking through the buzzing discussions in the bar. The market is simple and popular, and it outlines a touch of ordinary fireworks. It is not that kind of elegant art, but is always by your side. Street art, you only need a guitar and a voice to sing loudly.

There were still whispers in the bar, and no one seemed to notice the changes on the stage at all.

The lights in the entire bar were dim and hazy, leaving only a cream-yellow light beam falling down and covering the wooden chair. The light dust in the air was flying up and down, sparsely fluttering around the shoulders, outline Out of the outline of the body, inexplicably, you can smell a trace of vicissitudes and the wandering breath of desolation, which seems to be a shirt, and it seems to be aura.

The messy and unruly golden-brown curly hair still carried cool water vapor, curling in the light, sparse light and shadow passing through the hair, polishing the outline of the facial features and face little by little, the thick and slender hair The shadow cast by the eyelashes covered the look of the eyes, but it couldn't hide the unrestrained and unrestrained flow between the eyebrows.

The neatly trimmed stubble covered most of his cheeks, but more and more brought out the softness of his lips. His lips were slightly sipped, revealing a little inner anxiety and restraint, but it was fleeting; his eyes focused on the strings. Above, as if watching his beloved lover/person, the deep tenderness and depth soften the light and shadow.

The world is so noisy and chaotic, but suddenly an indescribable silence creeps in. Time seemed to stop suddenly.

Anne Silliman gently pulled Paul Walker's sleeve and said in a low voice, "Paul, is that Renly?"

Worried that her voice would disturb the work of the crew, Annie's soft-spoken words made Paul have to put his ear close to catch the slightest breath, and then he quietly replied, "Yes, that's Renly. What? Can't recognize it?" Paul's mouth couldn't help but rise, "He grew a beard for this movie."

Annie shook her head gently, "It's not because of the beard."

Afterwards, Annie fell silent, walked through the bustling crowd, quietly looked at the figure on the stage, and did not say a word for a long time.

Paul, who had been waiting patiently, almost thought that Anne had nothing to say and was about to sit up straight when the tender voice came again, "He's Renly, but he doesn't look like Renly."

"It's not like it?" Paul raised his eyes again and looked over.

Annie shook her head firmly, and her mind reappeared on the stage of the Grammy Awards, the Renly who sang "The Beast" a cappella. There was a touch of sadness and bitterness between her brows, but she was still proud. Straightening his back and standing in the center of the world, there is a lingering loneliness and loneliness.

Annie was still young, she couldn't express her words, she couldn't say why, but inexplicably, her eyes turned slightly red, she shook her head again, and muttered, "Yes, and no." She didn't know what she was talking about. What, after being unable to express, he fell silent, sat quietly on the spot, and stared at Renly.

"...I know," Paul said softly, and he could read Annie's thoughts. This is Renly, a Renly who always surprises every performance.

At this moment, he has not even started to perform, just sitting on the chair, carefully tuning the strings, but the slowly flowing emotions and temperament have been outlined, it seems that everything is the same, but Everything has changed.

"He's Renly, but he's Le Verne now," Paul explained softly.

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