In America, the Best Actor award starts with stereotypes.

Three days later, Burbank.

In previous years, by the end of November, preparations for Christmas had already begun on the streets.

But this year is completely different, with Celine Dion's new song "My Heart Will Go On" being released on November 14.

A giant ship named "Titanic" completely blocked out the Los Angeles sun.

Everywhere you look, people are talking about this blockbuster that cost $12 million, and everyone is looking forward to its North American release on December 19.

As for Christmas? Probably only children are looking forward to it, hoping that Santa Claus will give them a ticket to the movie "Titanic".

Nine o'clock in the morning, at an office building owned by Warner Bros.

The corridor was crowded with actors of all skin colors. Perhaps because the wait was too boring, many of them started discussing "Titanic".

Chen Zhuo, dressed in a slightly worn dark work uniform, walked into the audition waiting area for "The Matrix".

There were already more than twenty people sitting in the waiting area.

Most of them are young faces with little fame, but there are also supporting actors who have already appeared in several movies.

Upon seeing Chen Zhuo's sudden arrival, a black man with braided hair whistled and greeted him with a smile.

"Hey bro, are you Japanese from Tokyo?"

"No, I am Chinese."

Chen Zhuo frowned, his voice somewhat cold and hard.

"Oh, Fuck, I thought you were Japanese. That way you could tell us about Titanic."

Upon hearing that Chen Zhuo was Chinese, the Black man was somewhat disappointed and turned to shrug at his friend who was chatting.

"What a pity, he's a useless Chinese man."

"Do you think people can see Titanic in his hometown?"

"I don't know, even if we can see it, it will probably be a long time from now."

Chen Zhuo overheard the whispers of several Black men.

The premiere of "Titanic" was at the Tokyo International Film Festival, so Japanese people who saw the film were probably more popular in their social circles.

It's tacky and infuriating.

Chen Zhuo's expression was not good, and his fists hardened instantly.

He took a deep breath and forced himself to calm down.

This isn't an octagon; if he resorts to violence, he'll only end up in the police station.

Cultural issues should be resolved through culture.

Just like the monkey that swept across the West in his previous life, cultural export is the key to changing people's stereotypes.

He closed his eyes peacefully.

At this moment, only that quiet, optimistic, and reliable character as solid as a mountain—Tank—was on his mind.

……

"Next up, Malik Hudson."

The staff member pushed open the door and called out.

The black man with a braided hairstyle stood up, straightened his collar, and walked in confidently.

Less than a minute.

The door opened, and the black man walked out, looking disheveled. His charcoal-black face was flushed red, clearly indicating that he had been severely scolded.

"What's going on?" another Black man asked in a low voice.

"They said my image doesn't fit the role," the Black man cursed through gritted teeth. "Damn it, that casting director must be a redneck!"

"Rednecks?"

The expressions of people of other skin colors present changed slightly.

"I think the redneck is just something this gentleman imagined."

Chen Zhuo didn't even lift his eyelids, as if he were stating some objective fact.

"As for why this gentleman was rejected, let's take a look at his hair."

His voice was low and deep, and his speech was unhurried, as if it carried a calming power that made people instinctively feel convinced.

The other actors waiting for their auditions glanced at the black man's messy braided hair and most of them smiled knowingly.

The waiting area was instantly filled with a cheerful atmosphere.

"Next up, George Chen."

Chen Zhuo stood up calmly.

In my mind, the two terms, "genius actor (blue)" and "bookworm (green)," shone brightly at the same time.

The light in his eyes dimmed, and he hunched his shoulders slightly, as if carrying a heavy burden.

Watching his retreating figure, the white actor beside him rubbed his eyes.

Just now, he seemed to see a mountain.

[Stereotype +3]

……

Warner Bros.' casting office was larger than New Line Cinema's, which wasn't exactly top-tier.

This is both a good thing and a bad thing for the actors who come to audition.

A larger space means better opportunities to showcase acting skills, but an empty venue can also create greater psychological pressure.

At this moment, the casting director and casting assistant were clearly impatient, obviously disgusted by that idiotic old black man from before.

Chen Zhuo closed the door.

He lowered his center of gravity slightly, his body as steady as a veteran who had served for many years, each step extremely steady, the distance of each step never changing.

His gaze remained fixed straight ahead, quiet and composed, calm and restrained.

Casting director Marie Finn, who was rubbing his temples, stopped.

The veteran who discovered Leonardo DiCaprio and was in charge of casting Tom Cruise looked a little more serious.

She looked up, adjusted her glasses, and scrutinized the approaching young man with sharp eyes.

Chen Zhuo walked to the seat but did not plop down.

Instead, he paused for half a second, then gently landed to the side, his back straight, like a mountain, and landed steadily.

After sitting down, he seemed to freeze, his hands resting naturally and steadily on his thighs, without any unnecessary movements.

"Good morning, ladies. I am George Chen, the actor here for the audition."

Ms. Finn nodded and wrote a line down.

His voice was deep and steady, his steps were unhurried, and his posture was upright. He didn't look like a young man, but rather like an old man who had experienced many hardships.

"Hello, Mr. Chen."

Finn flipped through the resume and saw Greenberg's letter of recommendation. A smile appeared on her lips, and she glanced at Chen Zhuo again with some surprise.

She and Greenberg were from the same generation, so she naturally knew how stubborn the old man was. He almost never recommended anyone easily, so how come this young man got his recommendation?

Then I'll have to test its quality.

She thought for a moment, "Then let's have a free performance. Imagine that the chair you're sitting in right now is Neo the savior. The enemy wants to kill him, and you need to protect him. There are no lines. Use your actions to show it."

There are no lines.

This is the most difficult.

Compared to lines that resonate with viewers simply by being spoken, remaining silent can easily turn you into a wooden statue or a blank expression.

"start."

As the command was given.

Chen Zhuo slowly stood up.

In that instant, he saw it—he saw the ferocious octopus sentinel lunging toward Neo, the savior beside him.

He took a half step forward after getting up, his center of gravity naturally shifting to the side, his elbows slightly spread, completely encompassing the chair beside him within his protective range.

The room was deathly silent.

A second later, Finn's eyes suddenly locked onto Chen Zhuo's eyes.

Those eyes quickly scanned the surroundings, their gaze steady and calm, as if they were checking for any potential dangers.

A moment later, his eyes fixed straight ahead, resolute and cold, with an undeniable certainty—as long as I live, no one can get past me.

At the same time, Chen Zhuo's breathing not only did not become rapid, but slowed down, and his aura became more and more composed.

There were no unnecessary movements, and no changes in expression.

Yet it gives people a feeling of complete peace of mind.

At this moment, he is no longer a handsome young man, but an old comrade-in-arms to whom you can entrust your back at any time and trust him completely.

"it is good."

Marie Finn's voice broke the silence.