Best Director in Literature Department of Huayu

Chapter 124 Truth Without Fear: Awards Season

Inside the Princess of Wales Theatre, less than twenty minutes had passed before the screening began.

More and more guests began to arrive, including film critics from publications such as Variety, The New Yorker, Sight & Sound, and the Chicago Tribune, as well as chief film critics from local Canadian media.

Many industry professionals who were originally watching films in other sections also made a special trip over.

The once spacious screening room was now crowded with people, and low voices of conversation rose and fell.

In the front row, Todd McCarthy of Variety was flipping through the screening booklet, and sitting next to him was Kirk Honeycutt of The Hollywood Reporter.

The two were old acquaintances at the film festival.

"Have you seen the sample footage?" Todd asked.

"If I had seen it, I wouldn't be sitting here now," Kirk shrugged.

"Searchlight's secrecy this time is like that of the CIA. I heard that last week, several theater managers from major theater chains wanted to get copies early, but Peter Rice directly shut them down with profanities. The more this happens, the higher the industry's appetite for this film becomes."

Todd McCarthy said casually, "I'm curious what Lin can do to that Texas cowboy who lives all his life stripping and smiling."

Not far away, David Danby of The New Yorker was whispering with Roger Ebert of the Chicago Sun-Times.

Albert is now experiencing significant health problems, but he still insists on attending important film festival events.

He gazed at the enormous screen in the center of the stage: "I hope it's worth the ticket price."

Danby said with a laugh, "If it's not worth it, many people will be disappointed tonight."

Just as these film critics were talking in hushed tones, the VIP passage at the back of the theater was once again stirred up by a small commotion.

Many audience members who had already taken their seats turned around subconsciously and then saw several familiar figures walking in under the guidance of staff.

Feng Xiaogang, Zhang Ziyi, Ge You, Wang Zhonglei, and Johnnie To, among other Chinese filmmakers, entered the venue one after another.

Although it didn't cause a sensation like on the red carpet, it still sparked a murmur of discussion.

Todd McCarthy glanced back and said, "Quite a few Chinese-language directors are here tonight."

Kirk nodded: "It seems they're also very curious about Ryan."

In the VIP area on the other side, Brad Pitt, Ryan Gosling, Woody Harrelson, Emily Blunt, and others were already seated.

Looking around, the entire screening room was filled with some of the most influential industry professionals at this year's Toronto International Film Festival.

Shortly after Lin Ruiyang and the other lead actors took their seats, the theater lights began to dim, and the crowd that had been talking in hushed tones quickly fell silent.

The searchlight logo appeared on the screen, and the movie officially began.

For the first twenty minutes, the sound of pens and paper being scribbled could be heard throughout the theater.

Todd McCarthy, Kirk Honeycutt, and others maintained the habit of professional film critics, taking notes while watching.

However, as the plot progresses, the recorded sounds become less and less frequent, especially when Ron, played by Matthew McConaughey, is first told by the doctor that he only has thirty days to live.

The entire screening room fell completely silent. Matthew on the screen didn't become hysterical or cry; he just sat there silently.

But it was precisely this restraint that allowed the emotions to seep out little by little.

David Danby quietly capped the pen he was about to use to take notes.

As one of The New Yorker's most discerning film critics, he is accustomed to looking for flaws in the director's camera work while watching films, using them as material for his scathing column late at night.

But now, on the screen, Matthew McConaughey, thin and with skin as dry as a withered tree bark, is looking at the test results with an almost numb gaze.

There were no tearful breakdowns or heart-wrenching screams at the heavens, unlike the typical Hollywood terminal illness movies.

Lin Ruiyang used a fixed long shot to freeze Ron alone in that cold, disinfectant-smelling clinic in Texas.

"He's squeezed every last drop of sentimentality out of melodrama," Todd McCarthy thought to himself, sitting in the front row.

As a young Chinese-American director in his early twenties, Lin Ruiyang's maturity in cinematic language is comparable to that of veteran European directors.

When the plot progressed to the appearance of Raine, the transvestite played by Jared Leto, a series of low gasps echoed throughout the theater.

On screen, Ryan wears a cheap yet gaudy pink women's dress, his wig askew. Due to illness and the side effects of medication, his body trembles uncontrollably, but his eyes, painted with crude eyeshadow, still retain his dignity.

"My God, is that Jared Leto?" Kirk Honeycutt couldn't help but whisper to Todd beside him, his voice filled with disbelief.

Todd didn't answer, because he was also in shock at that moment.

If Matthew McConaughey's performance was a visible sacrifice, then Jared Leto's was a disappearance on a completely different level.

He could no longer see any trace of Jared himself.

On screen, Ryan would unconsciously adjust his wig when speaking, force a smile when others mocked him, and cough so hard he couldn't straighten up due to the side effects of medication.

Even so, he would still carefully touch up his makeup in front of the mirror. That vitality, a mixture of fragility and stubbornness, gave the character an astonishing sense of realism.

In the front row, Albert leaned slightly forward. As a veteran film critic who had seen tens of thousands of movies, he knew all too well the difference between an actor's "acted patheticness" and truly living the role.

What Jared is showing at this moment has transcended technique; it's a state where the audience forgets the actor's existence.

The film continues to move forward, showing Ron's journey from initial fear and anger to his exploration of alternative drugs, and finally his first trip to Mexico in search of a way to survive.

Lin Ruiyang did not film the story as a heroic legend.

On the contrary, Ron remains rude, selfish, and stubborn. He's a liar, he swears, and he'll exploit legal loopholes to make money.

But it is precisely because of this that the characters seem real.

"Smart," Todd thought to himself.

Most directors, when adapting true stories, tend to portray the protagonist as a morally perfect person, but Lin Ruiyang, on the contrary, preserved all the rough edges of the character.

That's why Ron's growth is so precious as he changes little by little.

As the plot unfolds, everyone is drawn into the world created by the film.

Feng Xiaogang abandoned his initial mindset of just watching the spectacle. As a director, he felt a greater sense of control over the film than the average viewer.

Those seemingly casual shots, those deliberately left-out pauses, those unspoken words... all forcibly strip away Feng Xiaogang's arrogance in a brutal way, just like Xi Jinping's approach.

At that moment, he felt a strong sense of powerlessness, accompanied by a chilling jealousy and vigilance.

Because Feng Xiaogang suddenly discovered something very cruel. This was neither luck nor a chance flash of inspiration.

"A Separation" can be attributed to talent, and "The Devil Wears Prada" can be attributed to commercial acumen, but when the third film still demonstrates such amazing completion, it seems a bit ridiculous to attribute everything to luck.

On the other hand, Johnnie To remained silent throughout.

As a Hong Kong director, he actually understands this sentiment better. A good film is simply good; there's no need to make excuses.

As the relationship between Ron and Ryan on screen gradually changed, Johnnie To even nodded slightly.

The character arcs are beautifully done; there are no deliberately designed transitions, and everything seems to grow naturally along with the character's personality.

This is the most difficult aspect to handle, and it's where the director's skill is most evident.

At this moment, the plot on the screen enters the most important turning point of the entire film.

The FDA began a full-scale crackdown on the buyer's club, with courts, pharmaceutical companies, and regulatory agencies exerting pressure in quick succession. Ron's gray area of ​​livelihood was constantly being squeezed, and the pace of the whole story suddenly accelerated.

Lin Ruiyang did not choose the intense editing commonly used in traditional commercial films. Instead, he chose to present the audience with the sense of powerlessness of an ordinary person facing a huge system, layer by layer.

Todd McCarthy finally picked up his pen again and quickly scribbled a few words in his notebook: "Authentic."

"Fearless."

"Awards (Awards Season)."

After finishing writing, he even laughed at himself. As a film critic, he has always disliked drawing conclusions too early.

But today is an exception, because by this point in the film he has been able to roughly determine the outcome; this is definitely not an ordinary independent film.

Kirk Honeycutt, standing nearby, clearly realized this as well, and he said in a low voice, "Looks like Searchlight has struck gold again."

Todd did not refute this; in fact, more and more people in the theater were realizing it.

As Ryan's life drew to a close, the colors on the screen grew increasingly somber and despairing. Jared Leto's silent trembling at the hospital bedside perfectly captured the struggle of marginalized groups caught between the system and disease.

In the VIP area, Brad Pitt's originally relaxed posture had unconsciously straightened up completely, and his fingertips were tapping lightly.

As the head of Project B and a top Hollywood actor, he believes that Universal's decision to delay development out of fear and even sign a waiver statement is the most foolish mistake Hollywood has made in the last decade.

Sitting next to Pitt, Ryan Gosling's eyes were filled with fervor and undisguised jealousy. As a rising star in the independent film scene, he knew all too well what kind of effect such a "script + director" combination could bring to the actors.

However, Matthew McConaughey seemed rather restless at this moment, which was completely different from when he was filming.

During filming, he knew what he was playing. But it wasn't until today that he watched the entire film with the audience for the first time.

The surroundings were too quiet, so quiet that it made him a little nervous. Especially when the scene of Ryan's condition worsening appeared, Matthew heard suppressed sobs from the nearby audience.

But in the next second, on the screen, Ryan showed that last smile that was both stubborn and somewhat relieved.

A collective gasp filled the theater. Even the usually oblivious Woody Harrelson couldn't help but mutter, "Holy shit!"

Matthew suddenly felt a lump in his throat, because he knew they had succeeded.

At least at this moment, the characters on the screen no longer belong to the actors.

On the screen, the movie finally came to its final scene.

Under the blood-red Texas sunset, the emaciated Ron straddles the back of a wildly jolting bison. With a gruff roar, the scene freezes abruptly before plunging into absolute darkness.