The Best Actor in the Vase of Meiyu

Chapter 378 Like Electricity
In front of the monitor, Steven Spielberg stared at the screen attentively. The soft light fell lightly on Anson's eyelashes, flapping gently like butterfly wings.

A pause, a look back, a lowered gaze, a rest.

That is, the reaction in this short moment, but it gently tugs at the heart, a faint bitterness emerges, and it is complicated that words cannot describe.

At this moment, Steven saw himself, he saw little Frank and he saw himself——

In fact, they all understand.

Parents think that they are still children and know nothing, but this is not the case. Maybe they are children but it does not mean that they know nothing.

They know that the storm is coming, and they know that the family is on the verge of collapse, but they don’t know what to do. They have never faced such a problem in their short lives. Even if they want to solve it, they have no way to solve it, so they can only bury themselves like ostriches. He raised his head, and then carefully maintained his normal state and prayed secretly. As long as he didn't reveal the truth, the end would not come.

Those bitternesses, those struggles, those fears.

Like fragile butterfly wings, it flapped weakly and stubbornly in the violent wind and rain, and then... bit by bit, it fell into pieces.

Steven was stunned.

His focus is always on composition, camera movement, lighting, and pictures. He can just leave the performance to the actors. There is really no need for him to interfere in other people's professions.

But now, in those blue eyes, he saw a crumbling world.

Involuntarily, Steven paused on the spot.

"No, I didn't think you forgot."

Little Frank tried to hide his calmness, his panic and embarrassment subsided again, and he continued to turn the pancakes carefully.

Then, Steven noticed an obvious pause in Christopher's shot——

Didn't you get the role?

How is it possible? It is impossible for an old actor like Christopher to be so deviant.

What's more, Christopher is a typical expressionist actor.

The biggest difference between expressionism and methodism is that:
Methodists pay attention to "losing control", giving themselves to the characters, and following the characters' own edges and personalities to show the plot. They believe that the characters have vitality, they can breathe, think and develop the plot.

Expressionism pays attention to "control". The actor needs to completely control the situation, arrange, plan and present with his own calmness, including the proportion of the performance, and does not allow accidents. The better the actor, the more precise the control, and even the accuracy can reach the eyes. Tears are tears and will never be shed.

No matter how well Anson performs, Christopher cannot lose control. Just look at stage actors and they will not pause their performance even if something unexpected happens.

Moreover, Anson's performance was delicate and restrained, without violently releasing energy, and Christopher was not shocked to the point of being stunned——

It's not that exaggerated, really.

So, what happened to Christopher?

The thoughts in Steven's mind just flashed by, because Christopher's pause was very subtle and very brief, and then he acted.

His shoulders and steps were slightly stiff. When he spoke again, he raised his voice slightly. The contrast between his voice and his body subtly created a sense of rawness——

Guilt. sad. Bitter.

Christopher noticed, and he also noticed the details of Anson's performance, so he immediately responded with a performance, showing the same complicated emotions of old Frank.

Looking back at this moment again, the blank space shown by the pause complements Anson's rest -

They all realized that the storm was coming, and a kind of uneasiness enveloped their hearts, but in order to maintain the harmony of the family, they both chose to whitewash the peace.

The whole scene is complete like this. "I opened a checking account in your name."

Old Frank raised his voice.

This made little Frank stunned. He was a little shy and embarrassed but still couldn't suppress his happiness. He turned off the gas stove and put down the spoon. He turned to look at his father, but did not dare to get close. He stood on tiptoe and secretly Covering up the raised corners of his mouth, he muttered inaudible words in a low voice.

Then Frank Sr. took out a stack of checkbooks from his briefcase.

Little Frank took a big step forward, unable to suppress his excitement, and suddenly appeared in front of Old Frank. It was so sudden that Old Frank looked up. At this time, he saw the shy but happy face of his son. A smile that made the corners of his mouth slightly raise.

"I've got twenty-five dollars in the account, so you can buy whatever you want."

Little Frank couldn't wait to reach out his hands.

Frank Sr. was about to hand over the checkbook, but took it back before touching Frank Sr.'s fingertips, and reminded him in a rare light tone, "Don't tell your mother."

Little Frank nodded obediently, "I won't."

Only then did Old Frank put the checkbook into Little Frank's hand.

Little Frank's heels lifted off the ground and rocked gently up and down like they were stepping on springs. He lowered his head and looked at the blank checkbook. A smile finally appeared on the corner of his mouth. His eyes and fingertips showed a trace of nostalgia and excitement. He took a moment to react. Come over and look up at old Frank again.

"Thanks, Dad."

Little Frank's raised arms were a little reserved, but he still hugged his father.

It was at this moment that the air became completely quiet.

Steven, Christopher, Anson, and the on-site staff can all feel a subtle warmth, like electricity pulsating at the fingertips——

A connection that belongs to the family, but also between Abagnale and his son, is quietly established in a weird and awkward way.

However, the filming is still not over.

Little Frank let go of his arms, took two steps back, and sat down at the dining table, "Didn't that bank refuse to give you a loan?"

Old Frank did not deny it, and said calmly, "Yes, they all rejected me."

Little Frank couldn't help but chuckle. He could hear the self-deprecation in his father's words, "Then why are you still opening an account there?"

Frank Sr. patted his son on the shoulder, walked to the gas stove and continued the work that Frank Jr. had just finished, "Because sooner or later you will need a bank to get a loan to buy a house or a car, and they control the money."

But Frank Sr. heard no response.

Turning around, Frank Sr. saw Frank Sr. opening his checkbook. He couldn't move his eyes away at all, as if he had found a novel toy. He kept flipping through it and playing with it, paying special attention to it.

Frank Sr. came behind his son and supported his shoulders. "Here are fifty checks, Junior. This means that starting from today..."

In the script, he is called "Frank" instead of "Junior", but very, very rarely, Christopher, who always values ​​control and precision, changed his lines.

A trivial detail, but it completes the bond between Abagnale and his son.

"...You just join their little club."

　Monthly tickets are doubled. Qimao also asks for a wave of monthly tickets! I wish everyone a happy new year!

　　
　
(End of this chapter)