No matter who it is, when discussing their field of expertise, the confidence radiating from their entire being is an irreplaceable kind of unique charm.
Deborah was no exception. One mont she seed like an ordinary woman you'd pass on the street, and the next, she transford into Queen Elsa, ruler of the Ice Kingdom—
She didn't need to wear Prada; she still exuded that devilish flair.
Deborah asked, "So, have you read the script? Do you understand what kind of character this is?"
Anson raised the script in his hand. "They told I should guard it with my life."
"Haha." Deborah laughed out loud. "There's no need to be that tense," but she understood what Anson ant—he probably hadn't had ti to read it.
No worries, Deborah had already read it, and Marta had just co by to offer so pointers:
Handso.
One word sumd it all up.
Deborah gave Anson another look. "I think what you're wearing today isn't bad. Is there any story behind it?"
Anson glanced down at himself. So, had Deborah been observing him this whole ti?
"A morning after a serious hangover, getting ready to enjoy brunch with friends, pretending to be fully awake and that I got up early for so exercise. But in reality, I didn't even bother walking 50 ters. After brunch, I'll be heading ho to nap."
The vivid, humorous picture painted a scene full of hidden wisdom, instantly making Deborah's eyes light up.
"Aha! I've got an idea!"
Deborah, unaware of her own excitent, couldn't contain herself and began hopping lightly, completely imrsed in her expertise, quickening her steps.
Without paying Anson any mind, she started muttering to herself:
Maybe she could tinker sothing up.
Deborah's love for fashion and her appreciation for Anson's reasoning were actually the sa thing—she believed that clothing was an essential part of a person's character.
People who liked black and white versus those who liked colors usually had different personalities.
Those who preferred suits versus those who loved T-shirts tended to be different as well.
Of course, this wasn't absolute—just relative. But depending on the occasion or mood, a person's choice of clothing already reveals their personality.
Bold or subtle? Conservative or daring? Gentlemanly or carefree?
Even the act of not caring about clothing or appearance is, in itself, a reflection of character.
So for Deborah, when it ca to shaping a character, she liked to start with the wardrobe. The outfit was already part of the backstory.
Efficiently, Deborah quickly prepared four outfits, hung them on the rack in the empty space of the room, and pushed them in front of Anson.
"What do you think?"
Originally, Anson only had a vague idea, but upon seeing the clothes, everything beca vivid and clear.
**Costu is Part of the Character.**
Just monts ago, Anson had openly admitted that he hadn't read the script and knew nothing about his character. Additionally, with nearly 300 episodes across ten seasons of *Friends*, even though he had watched them all in his previous life, he couldn't recall what happened at the end of Season 6. This ant he had no reference point.
He would need to rely on himself to create a concept for the role.
Now, with Deborah analyzing the character and building a persona for him, Anson found this not only interesting but also extrely important.
Deborah picked up the first outfit. "Sports style?"
A T-shirt paired with jeans.
It looked simple, but any true fashion enthusiast would say that the more basic and ordinary the combination, the more it tests one's looks and aura. A white T-shirt, due to its cut, fit, and color, could present entirely different effects—it wasn't as simple as it seed.
Deborah believed that, given Anson's youth and physique, this basic style could emphasize his vibrant and energetic personality.
Anson thought seriously for a mont. "Doesn't this resemble Joey's style? I an, the type?"
Deborah nodded slightly. "In terms of character, Joey is a typical Italian heartthrob—handso, charming, sweet-talking. You could say he fits the sporty type."
Anson added, "If this is the look, how should the dynamic between my character and Ross be set up?"
The sporty style often represented youth. Unless you were as muscular and imposing as Arnold Schwarzenegger, it would be hard to overpower Ross.
Let's not forget, Anson was appearing as Ross's girlfriend's brother. He needed to make Ross feel threatened, maybe even afraid, for the cody to work.
Deborah snapped her fingers. "Gentlemanly style?"
A shirt paired with a suit.
Although a bit formal, suits ca in different styles, and Deborah envisioned a slightly business-like, elite look. The sharp tailoring would highlight Anson's physique and proportions, allowing him to command the scene the mont he appeared.
Anson agreed that this was formal and serious enough, but since this was a cody, a full suit might restrict the character's movents. "Are we going for a *Mr. Big* vibe?"
Mr. Big, the "Ross" figure from *Sex and the City*, was a classic business elite who had an ongoing romantic entanglent with the main character.
Deborah tilted her head slightly, imagining it. "No, you're much younger and more handso than Mr. Big. Besides, Mr. Big doesn't rely on his looks."
As soon as she finished, Deborah realized the implication of her words...
Anson's smile spread across his face. "I suppose not just anyone can rely on their looks, huh?"
"Haha!" Deborah laughed out loud. "Actually, Mr. Big is more of the type Rachel would like, and he'd look great on screen. But you're right; this setup feels a bit old-fashioned. It doesn't offer much room to play. We'll keep it as a backup."
Anson didn't have to say anything—Deborah quickly caught on.
Next up.
"Preppy style."
A T-shirt layered with a shirt, or perhaps a shirt paired with a cardigan.
Deborah didn't ntion this, but the inspiration ca from Anson himself, carrying a hint of British flavor. "Maybe we can tweak the details to create sothing between 007 and *Doctor Who*."
... At least, Anson didn't see it yet. "Are you sure this isn't too similar to Ross's style?"
It was just a more bookish version of Ross.
Deborah paused, instinctively denying it. "No, this is more nerdy than Ross."
Anson shrugged slightly. "If he's even nerdier, why would Rachel like him? Over the years, Rachel has failed to see Ross for who he is, spending five whole years figuring it out. Then, in a blink, she falls for soone even nerdier than Ross? Does that really work?"
From an audience perspective, it might be hard to accept.
Deborah reluctantly agreed, but she didn't want to admit defeat. "We could tweak it, make it quirkier—like a quantum physicist's type of quirky."
Scenes from *The Big Bang Theory* flashed in Anson's mind.
He had to take a deep breath to cut the thought short, or else Sheldon's image would haunt him. "But wouldn't that work better for Phoebe?"
Deborah didn't respond imdiately, but she imagined a scene with Anson and Phoebe together. It was odd, but Anson had a point.
So, should they abandon this?
Anson didn't think so.
Noticing Deborah's thoughtful expression, Anson's own thoughts began to expand. "In that case, why not go all out? Model him after Ross, creating another identical Ross."
This...
This?
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