"Cut."
A single word broke the silence, like a gently flowing stream suddenly encountering a rock, transforming from calm to turbulent in an instant, causing hearts to lose rhythm unexpectedly.
In a flurry, people averted their gazes, trying to hide their embarrassnt.
It took a mont to realize that the person in the cara was Anson, not themselves as they had been observing. There was no need to hide, no one had even noticed.
But what was this feeling of being exposed?
Looking at Anson in front of the cara felt like gazing into one's own softness and fragility, as if in a daze, they had exposed their own thoughts and were desperate to escape.
Sha mixed with anxiety, panic intertwined with unease, yet they couldn't look away.
Instinctively, they looked over again, searching for Anson among the crowd.
There he was—
Following Gus's footsteps.
After calling "cut," Gus didn't stay in place like usual. Instead, he left the monitor and walked straight toward Anson.
Wait, could it be that this take wasn't good either?
Another NG (No Good)?
No… that can't be right.
The thought gripped their throats, eyes following Gus's every move.
Then, Gus stopped in front of Anson.
Anson didn't have a particular reaction.
Even though the filming had been interrupted, from being in character to stepping out of it, Anson remained the sa—still the seventeen-year-old teenager, still imrsed in his frustration and confusion, carefully hiding his true self.
Gus slightly raised his head, looking up at Anson.
Gus, standing at under six feet (175 cm), hadn't particularly noticed Anson's height before; but now, he suddenly realized how tall and upright Anson was.
Although Anson was looking down at him, Gus noticed how Anson slightly lifted his chin, trying to conceal his gaze, the sharp angles of his features forming a flat surface, awkwardly hiding the surge of mixed emotions within.
NG?
No, Gus really liked it.
To be precise, he really, really liked it.
Gus appreciated Anson's state—calm yet turbulent, simple yet complex, a kind of elusive aura flowing naturally from within.
In Anson's expression, Gus could see the shadow of River Phoenix.
River, the ever-wandering and lost River, whose handso and cool exterior concealed deep scars. Those invisible pains and sorrows slowly devoured his soul until he could no longer bear it.
So, like a phoenix, he was reborn.
Gus didn't know much about Anson.
But at least from what he saw now, with Anson recently gaining montum through "Spider-Man," he should be riding high; yet Gus saw loneliness, fragility, confusion, and unhealed wounds in him.
Just like River.
Now, Gus finally understood Anson's defensiveness and unease, his careful attempts to hide his true self behind a mask—there was a reason for it all.
Gus quietly watched Anson, suddenly recalling River's story and its ending. The many words swirling on his tongue found no way to be expressed. A mix of fear, compassion, and admiration gripped his heart.
Then.
Gus took a step forward and hugged Anson.
He said nothing because words were insignificant at this mont. He didn't know nor need to know what Anson had been through—that was Anson's story—but it didn't stop him from giving Anson a warm embrace.
Anson froze.
He hadn't expected this. The director was hugging him—what did that an?
Approval? Or comfort?
Anson's body stiffened slightly, standing there confused and unsure, but the warmth was sothing he couldn't help but long for.
In his past mories, no one had ever hugged him.
Not his father. Not his mother.
Before the incident, no one had. After he turned twenty-five, even less so.
So, when he ca to this world, any embrace made him uncomfortable. That kind of intimacy and warmth left him at a loss, unsure how to respond.
And now?
A hug—for the seventeen-year-old, and also for the twenty-five-year-old—left Anson completely bewildered, his eyes full of confusion:
What kind of feeling is this?
Anson was sowhat bewildered.
After thinking for a mont, he gently patted Gus on the back, as if trying to comfort the director instead.
Gus noticed this, released the embrace, and looked up at Anson again, seeing the expression on Anson's face, and couldn't help feeling a pang of heartache.
Then Gus spoke.
"Let's move on to the next scene."
No extra words were needed; that one sentence was enough.
Alex hadn't expected to feel an itch in his eyes. He instinctively raised a hand to rub them, only to find a bit of moisture on his fingers, which left him feeling a bit embarrassed.
Alex exaggerated a smile to cover it up, then looked around and realized that no one was paying attention to him. Everyone was lost in their own thoughts, which put him sowhat at ease.
But he still felt a bit uneasy.
Alex nudged Eric's shoulder. "It's different, isn't it?"
Exactly how it was different, these outsiders couldn't say for sure. To Alex, Anson was still Anson—nothing seed to have changed. The performance seed the sa, too. But sohow, even though it was the sa filming, the feeling was different. Why?
"Huh, it's like watching magic."
Eric didn't turn his head. He seed a bit lancholic and embarrassed.
He saw too many emotions in Anson. His mind wasn't particularly focused, but his mood was quietly settling down, calming.
It was just him and his heartbeat.
Just like Anson in the cara monts ago.
Eric muttered to himself, "Maybe that's what acting is."
But he wasn't sure, because everything felt too real, with no trace of acting. If it weren't for the caras and the crew, he would have thought he was watching himself—just his everyday life.
Alex looked at Eric, wanting to say sothing, his lips moving but no sound coming out. In the end, he fell silent.
The atmosphere on set was a bit strange.
Impact?
No, that's not it.
The filming just now, the acting just now—nothing was particularly special. It was just a regular day in the life of these students. Anson didn't give a breakout performance, nor was there any dramatic storyline. Everything was as plain as water.
Yet, sohow, thoughts and emotions were drawn in bit by bit.
Finally, everything quieted down, and they found themselves imrsed in their own thoughts.
Listening, feeling, experiencing.
Everything was so simple.
One could vaguely sense the thoughts surging beneath, like a silent scream—stillness enveloped with a roaring undercurrent.
Maybe this is why Gus chose to shoot this way, to produce this way—to hide the raging waves and complex layers beneath a calm surface, leaving space for the audience in front of the screen to ponder.
It's certain that not everyone will like this movie, but from a filmmaking perspective, Gus has taken a significant step forward—
Building on "Gerry," Gus is further exploring cinema, not just deconstructing and reflecting on how he makes films, but also experinting with a new way of filming altogether.
It's impossible not to think of the Dogma 95 movent initiated by the four Danish directors.
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