The Best Actor in the Vase of Meiyu

Chapter 2051 A Fool

"Thank you."

Martin expressed his gratitude solemnly.

Because it's too formal, it actually looks a bit strange.

Anson paused, then looked up at Martin. "Why? Because I'm willing to take on this film?"

With a smirk, Anson made a small joke, "I didn't expect you to start flattering people like this. It turns out you can't escape worldly views either."

Martin sensed it but didn't deny it. Instead, he went along with the joke, saying, "There's no way around it. You're under someone else's roof, after all, you're Anson Wood. I've already lost points on our first impression, so I have to do my best to salvage the situation, or things will quickly take a turn for the worse."

“Haha.” Anson laughed out loud. “It seems my devilish image in Hollywood has taken root in people’s minds. I thought it had no effect when I faced you last time.”

Martin glanced at Anson in the rearview mirror, his mind racing—

Anson may never know how he felt when he received the call from Forest Pictures, inviting him to come and discuss the details of the contract.

He remained calm throughout the call, but his hands and knees trembled uncontrollably. The moment he hung up, he collapsed to the ground.

Lost and found. A narrow escape from death. A glimmer of hope.

None of these words can accurately describe his feelings—the complexity, the surging emotions, the overwhelming happiness, the madness.

Everything, everything, originated from Anson Wood—

A man who stands at the top of the pyramid, wielding immense power and influence, yet still willing to set aside prejudice and misunderstanding to calmly listen to every voice.

It wasn't just because Anson agreed to star in "In Bruges," nor was it just because Forest Films signed a $15 million check and even agreed to let Martin continue filming the live-action short film he had conceived; that's still not all.

What's truly astonishing is that when Martin expressed his desire to direct the script he wrote, Forest Films actually... nodded in agreement.

Martin is no newcomer. He will turn thirty-five at the end of this month and has been working in the London theater scene for nine years, barely making ends meet with odd jobs and welfare payments. He has seen the bitterness and darkness of the world of fame and fortune, and has also experienced the trials and tribulations of reality.

He, a novice, clearly has three theatrical works, but all of them are credited as screenwriters, with no directing experience, let alone academic background.

However, Forest Pictures agreed.

Although Lucas didn't say it, Martin knew that nothing would have happened without Anson's approval.

Especially during his short stay in Los Angeles, all sorts of rumors and gossip came flooding in. Martin already knew Anson's prestige and influence. If Anson nodded, he could star in any project he was interested in. But Anson chose "In Bruges," a low-budget comedy about an unknown nobody.

All of this, all of it added up, and then looking back at what happened at the BBC—

Martin felt like he was a complete idiot.

The feelings were so complex and varied that words could not even begin to describe them; only those who had truly experienced it firsthand could understand.

So Martin always felt that he owed Anson an apology.

Upon reflection, what he should really express is gratitude, rather than an apology; all other words seem insignificant and meaningless.

A thousand words, a myriad of thoughts, swirled on Martin's tongue, but he still couldn't find the right way to express himself. He could only let out a long breath. "Anson, thank you... just for everything."

This was the second time, and Martin expressed his gratitude earnestly. Anson sensed it and stopped joking. "It's my pleasure," he said.

With a slight smile, Anson gracefully accepted the thanks.

Then, changing the subject, "So, that shouldn't be all, right? You should know that my salary is very high. I chose this project not as a charity, but because I genuinely hope to make an excellent film. Otherwise, I might change my mind faster than flipping through a book."

puff.

Martin couldn't help but burst out laughing.

This time, Martin turned his head and carefully examined Anson. A smile spread across his face, and he laughed loudly, "Haha, quite ambitious indeed."

"So let's look forward to our cooperation and cherish this honeymoon period before things turn into a disaster."

Martin's scripts, responding to humor with humor, truly reveal his personality.

He was sharp, melancholic, and cynical, but miraculously, he never lost his innocence and beauty, like a ray of sunshine hidden deep in endless darkness, becoming the strength that supported him to keep moving forward and keep fighting.

Like a hedgehog.

Anson turned to look out the window. "So, where are we now? If I remember correctly, this story was inspired by this city. Does that mean we need to explore the city properly and get a feel for its atmosphere before reading the script in detail?"

Martin's eyes lit up slightly. This was an unexpected surprise, and the first time he had truly gotten up close to Anson's working methods.

Hollywood is like this: enveloped in dazzling spotlights and glare, it looks beautiful on the outside, mesmerizing and captivating.

But the reality behind those lights is like a mystery; the true face of the actors is impossible to know until you get close enough to find out the truth.

This is why Martin Scorsese has always insisted that Colin Farrell is the best choice. Firstly, his image is a good fit, and secondly, he knows Colin personally, so he can have a clear vision for the film, draw up his own blueprint, and the final result will not deviate too much from his expectations.

As it turned out... a change occurred at the last minute, and it was a crucial change that completely overturned the entire project.
So, while expressing his gratitude, Martin still harbored some doubts deep down. Was his judgment correct? Was Anson really suitable? Would Anson act like a diva? Was his image merely a carefully crafted commercial performance? What were his true abilities and work ethic?

Everything is unknown.

Now, the moment of truth has finally arrived.

Martin was somewhat excited, and also slightly agitated by Anson's first question; clearly, Anson had truly listened to him.

“Of course.” Martin said, slightly excited. “In fact, Bruges is a city that’s perfect for strolling around on foot and exploring its secret corners.”

Anson gently raised his chin. "I looked up some information and it says this place is the 'Venice of the North,' a famous tourist city, but in fact I've never been here before, nor have any of my friends come here for vacation, so I have no idea what this place is like."

Martin curled his lip. "This once again definitively proves that you're not British. At least, you've never lived in London."

Anson spread his hands. "It seems my London accent didn't fool you."

“Ah…” Martin opened his mouth, his expression somewhat comical, “Actually, I might need you to correct your London accent.”

(End of this chapter)