The Best Actor in the Vase of Meiyu

Chapter 2111 Waiting for the rabbit
"Hey, Anson, good morning."

Michael Tedros flashed a big smile, revealing a set of uneven and not-so-white teeth, with a hint of fawning in his expression.

But what's amazing is that the smile isn't unpleasant; instead, it has a friendly feel to it.

It's clear that he's very good at these kinds of situations.

Anson chuckled, a smile playing on his lips. "Oh, what a coincidence."

Michael smiled broadly. "No, this is no coincidence. I came here specifically to wait for you. In fact, I went to the hotel lobby this morning and waited there hoping to catch a glimpse of you; but obviously, I missed you without paying attention."

"I didn't expect that after such a busy and hectic day yesterday, I would still be out watching a movie so early today. That's Anson for you."

This Michael Tedros is a producer who has been relentlessly searching for Anson four times during Cannes, and this is the fifth time.

However, Anson has been busy with a full schedule, and yesterday was the peak. After the premiere, he immediately began a group interview, changing his clothes five times. He interviewed people from noon until 3 a.m. After finishing, he removed his makeup, took a shower, and went to bed after 4 a.m.

After only two hours of sleep, Anson got up and went out to start a new day of work.

Anson let out a soft sigh. "I remember forgetting how physically demanding film festivals are. I'm finding that compared to two years ago, my stamina seems to have declined, and I can't seem to watch as much anymore. Is that normal?"

Michael burst out laughing. "If twenty-year-olds can't do it, then we old folks are even less capable. You could take a day off, even if it's not a whole day, a morning would be fine."

Anson spread his hands. "A promise is a promise. I made a promise to The New York Times, so I have to keep it. I still have work to do."

To others, being a guest film critic is just a gimmick, but Anson has his own principles.

Michael's eyes lit up. "As expected of Anson. So, what about what you promised yesterday..."

Anson was puzzled.

Michael wasn't angry. "I had a full schedule yesterday and really couldn't find the time, so you said you'd give me thirty minutes next time we meet."

This was to commend Michael for his perseverance in not being deterred by the fact that he had visited Zhuge Liang three times.

Anson suddenly realized, but looked slightly helpless. "So this early this morning? You could have waited until after Cannes to say it."

Michael cautiously joked, "I wonder if I'll be able to find you then."

"Hahaha." Anson burst into laughter.

Joking aside, Anson glanced at his watch, his expression slightly hesitant. At this moment, Michael took the initiative to come forward. Golden Kiwi, who had been quietly waiting by the side without making a sound, took a step forward, his whole body tensing up. Michael was startled and quickly stepped back, his whole body tensing up and curling up.

His wrinkled expression was particularly funny.

Anson combed his hair back and smiled. He was half asleep and half awake. He hadn’t noticed Eduardo at all and didn’t know where Eduardo had come from. To be honest, he felt like he was soaking in a hot spring bathed in golden sunlight and floating in mid-air.

“I’m just… Eduardo… Sorry… I, uh, my brain is a mess right now, and I can’t even speak properly, haha, I think I need a shot of espresso.”

He let out a soft breath. "Michael, here's the thing, I don't have thirty minutes because I have to get to the movie palace, and if I'm any slower I might have to wait in line; fifteen minutes, if that's acceptable, let's head to the coffee shop across from the movie palace now."

“But if you refuse, that’s fine too. I’ll tell Edgar to schedule another time.”

Before Anson could continue, Michael had already raised his hands in surrender. "Now. Now is fine, fifteen minutes, no problem." "If you don't mind, I can also go with you to the movie palace to queue, but twenty minutes, no problem."

Anson's eyes flashed with a smile. "Fifteen minutes." This guy is cunning, slippery, and always looking for an opening.

Clearly, Michael should have noticed that Anson was currently in a state of confusion and was thinking about whether he could find an opening, so he held onto the opportunity tightly and refused to let go.

Eduardo noticed it too, and he turned to look at Anson, his eyes questioning.

Anson believed that with just a word from him, Eduardo could bring Michael down on the spot.

Anson gestured to Eduardo not to worry and took a step forward, saying, "Have you had breakfast? Maybe I can buy you some at the coffee shop."

Michael followed along, walking alongside Anson. This time, Eduardo didn't stop him. "Of course, not everyone has the honor of having breakfast prepared for them by Anson. So, how does it feel to have turned Cannes upside down again?"

"Haha," Anson was clearly in a good mood. "It's not quite real yet. I haven't had a chance to read the program yet. What are the reviews of the movie?"

After the premiere yesterday, Anson was caught up in a media frenzy and was confined to his hotel room in complete darkness, unaware of what was happening outside.

Michael mysteriously moved closer, seemingly with unusual intimacy, "You should read it yourself. You'll be very happy with the spoilers."

Anson's lips curled down slightly, revealing a hint of meaning. "Is it about me, or about the movie?"

Michael was taken aback, blinking rapidly. "Yes, yes, I have them all."

Anson immediately understood Michael's point of view. In Cannes, all the discussions were about the film. If the discussions revolved around the actors, it meant that the film was mediocre. So discussing the film and discussing the actors were two different things. Anson wanted people to discuss the film.

As mentioned before, is it more worthy of celebration for an actor to win the Best Actor/Actress award at Cannes, or for an actor's performance to win the Palme d'Or?

At the three major European film festivals, it's always the latter.

Therefore, when "The Elephant" won the Palme d'Or two years ago, it was an unforgettable moment worth remembering, even more important than Anson's own breakthrough.

But clearly, Michael didn't understand the intricacies of the situation. Like an outsider, he couldn't see through the fog and ultimately couldn't understand the ins and outs of the film festival.

Through a small detail, Anson gained a preliminary understanding of the ink in Michael's stomach.

However, Michael did not understand Anson's probing. He tried to keep his voice relaxed and put what he had heard yesterday into practice on the spot.

"Clearly, you've done an incredible job. We're not surprised by your live performances; your Grammy and Oscar performances are still fresh in our minds. But beyond singing, you've demonstrated the ability and talent of an actor. Who would have thought we'd fall in love with the male lead because of a biographical film?"

Anson squinted. "I'm not surprised. Johnny Cash is a likable guy."

"Haha." Michael laughed heartily, a slightly exaggerated laugh, showing his great enthusiasm and dedication to the performance.

Then, changing the subject, Michael didn't waste any more time. Anson could have taken his time, but with the movie palace in sight, he had to get straight to the point.

“I am working on a project called ‘I Am Legend’, a post-apocalyptic story about a man’s lonely struggle after the apocalypse.”

"I believe you are the perfect choice for this role."

(End of this chapter)