Befuddled and anxious

Lyman sat quietly in his seat, feeling quite emotional.

This was not the first time he watched the completed version of "3 Idiots", nor was it the first time he showcased his work to the public. After all, this was already his second feature film as a director, and he should be accustomed to these things. However, deep inside his heart, there was still an indescribable and inexplicable emotion after the movie finished playing, to the point that his mind started to boil, and he couldn't calm down for a long time.

He thought that after going through it once, he wouldn't have that feeling of uncertainty anymore, and he could remain composed and unperturbed... but unfortunately, he couldn't.

As he looked at the big screen, the subtitles slowly disappeared, and everything gradually turned dark. In his mind, a surge of emotions overwhelmed him in an instant.

There was a restlessness in presenting his own ideas and filmmaking concepts to the public for scrutiny and criticism; there was a throbbing sensation in expressing the resonance of his thoughts through the language of the camera and the narrative of the story; there was a sense of accomplishment in pouring his heart and soul into completing a good story. All of this was mixed with excitement, doubt, frustration, hope, and so on. In short, he was extremely restless at the moment.

This feeling was like... the feeling of waiting for exam results during childhood. His blood rushed through his body time and time again, gradually calming down the restlessness that surrounded Lyman. His brain rebooted, and he regained the ability to think. Only then did he finally shift his attention to observe the reactions of the surrounding audience.

Lyman always believed that for a movie, its quality and appeal could only be judged by the audience who had truly watched it. They held the right to speak and were the most important reference criteria. As for the compliments from colleagues, the nonsense spoken by media journalists who received bribes, or the baseless remarks from a group of film critics, he didn't care about any of that.

A movie is an art, but first and foremost, it should be an art accepted by the masses.

Throughout history, many stories have told us that being exclusive and obscure is useless. What's even more brutal is that many filmmakers don't even have the qualifications to be exclusive and obscure, yet they mock the audience's aesthetics. They attribute everything negative to the incompetence of the current audience.

Well, instead of talking about others, why not look in the mirror and see what kind of person you are?

...

Lyman's peripheral vision kept scanning the reactions of the surrounding audience, but he gradually became anxious again. It was because the surroundings were too quiet. Not to mention applause or expressions of gratitude, there wasn't even the sound of the audience discussing the plot after watching the movie. Only Lyman, René, Thomas, and George remained, staring at each other, not knowing whether to stand up and leave or go backstage to talk to the projectionist.

What was going on?

Lyman remembered that even after the previous movie, many audience members complained and criticized it before leaving. At least that was some kind of reaction, right? How come now, everyone unanimously started playing the game of statues. One, two, three, don't move, whoever moves is a little dog.

Hey! Can you give some reaction, guys? It's nerve-wracking to be left hanging like this.

Another minute passed. The audience still didn't make any moves. There was no outburst of curses, nor did anyone leave voluntarily. No, the screening was already over. Was everyone really that idle?

This situation made Lyman somewhat panicked, and his mind kept wandering with various conjectures. Could it be that the completed version of "3 Idiots" was really terrible, and the audience collectively felt insulted? This thought emerged and was instantly captured by Lyman's brain.

He couldn't help but think that maybe it was because of his adaptation that ruined this work. To be honest, his version couldn't really be said to be better than the original, but at least in his opinion, it wasn't bad either. But he was a director, a producer, and his opinions didn't count at all.

He turned his mind quickly, indulging in various wild thoughts.

"Clap! Clap!" A crisp and rhythmic applause suddenly rang out, echoing lightly in the exhibition hall. This sudden sound interrupted Lyman's daydreaming, and he involuntarily turned his head toward the source of the sound, followed by René, Thomas, and others looking in the same direction.

"It's a beautiful woman!" René's focus remained unchanged, as always. Although the exhibition hall was still in darkness, making it a bit difficult to see clearly, it was no surprise that the person applauding was indeed quite beautiful, as Lyman's judgment concurred with René's comment.

Bella had just been thinking that the audience was immersed in reliving the movie's plot, just like her. And indeed, the movie subtitles had been scrolling for a while, but the cinema remained silent. No one stood up, no one made a sound, and no one discussed the movie with their companions. It was as if they were all immersed in the joyous flavor of the Indian song and dance at the end.

Everyone sat quietly in their seats, motionless.

Bella found it extremely amusing and couldn't help but feel a little amused. So, playfully, she encouraged herself with claps of her hands, "Clap! Clap! Clap!"

She was the one who initiated the first round. Her solitary applause echoed in the quiet space, with no one joining in. It made her actions appear a bit awkward, but Bella continued to applaud with even more enthusiasm. At that moment, it seemed as if the game of statues had come to an end.

The audience in the exhibition hall gradually came to their senses. The applause began to overlap. Some people even stood up in excitement. "Clap! Clap! Clap!" The applause converged into a unified sound, growing louder and louder.

Lyman, who had been looking at the beautiful woman just a second ago, was shocked by the sight of everyone around him standing up and clapping in a disorderly fashion. René, by his side, also stood up and enthusiastically clapped his hands. Thomas, George, and the others sitting nearby couldn't help but laugh.

Lyman looked at everything with great satisfaction, feeling that his decision to become a director had been extremely wise.

The audience's standing ovation brought back memories of that afternoon, when a similar group of people had expressed their approval of his work "Buried" through such actions. It was only after that day that he was able to smoothly embark on the path of a director.

Everything seemed so similar. It was wonderful, he thought.

The crisp sound of palms colliding filled the air, as if awakening the exhibition hall. The temperature inside gradually rose, and the creamy yellow light drove away the darkness like a tide. The lights in the theater came on, and the momentary illumination made the entire exhibition hall scene appear incredibly clear. The excitement and joy on the faces of the audience filled Lyman's field of vision. What a wonderful feeling it was.

In a trance, it felt like being in heaven. Lyman couldn't help but lift his head to search for that figure once again. The beautiful woman who had applauded first was now standing quietly, occasionally looking around with a smile on her face. "Director, director, director..."

Cheers erupted, and another group of people joined in.

"Come forward, you should stand at the front." George, by the side, said, implying with his gaze to Lyman. He even extended his hand and pointed to an empty space in front, nodding encouragingly.

Lyman hesitated for a moment, then took hold of George's body and signaled Thomas and René to follow. "We are a team, and this honor belongs to all of us. We should stand together at the front."

The four of them slowly walked forward, with all the spectators' gazes and attention focused on them. The sense of being in the limelight danced joyfully in the depths of their hearts. It felt as if all the pores on their bodies were opening up, and their hearts thumped vigorously like fearless warriors, launching a relentless charge.

Stirring blood, lightened steps, and a subtle sensation on the skin, like soaking in a hot spring at this moment. Every part of their bodies felt comfortable. In their minds, various emotions surged in an instant, intertwining in a way that was indistinguishable. And so, the four people who could only smile foolishly stood on the stage constructed by the applause and cheers of the audience.

As René described it afterward, "At that moment, my mind went blank, and all I knew was to follow everyone forward. And when it was time to stop, I just stopped, not knowing what I had actually done. But that feeling was truly amazing."

Yes, it was truly amazing, and Lyman felt the same way.

At some point, the entire audience in the exhibition hall stood up, forming a dense forest-like presence that towered and filled every inch of Lyman's field of vision. Amid the bright environment created by the lights, the applause continued to resound.

At this moment, Lyman faced the audience, accepting their affirmation and encouragement, and his emotions fluctuated continuously. The hardships of the past few months during filming, the people troubled by that piece of land, and that memorable afternoon flashed through his mind incessantly. Like a cameraman controlling the camera, memories gradually evolved into frame after frame of cinematic scenes, ultimately freezing at the moment of his awakening.

Past experiences slowly surfaced and disintegrated into fragments, gradually fading away. He knew that his future path as a director would be rock-solid, he was sure of it. And the applause that resounded in his ears at this moment, so clear and distinct, only reinforced Lyman's thought: He had once again taken a successful step!

Yes, he had succeeded once again.