The Greatest Showman #702 - Production Meeting

The focus of the meeting was initially on Tim, but when the discussion shifted to "Frank Marshall," all eyes turned to Renly.

After the "Pacific War," Renly and Steven hadn't met again, though rumors circulated that the two producers—Steven Spielberg and Tom Hanks—did not exactly praise Renly. There were claims that "Buried Alive" earned Oscar nominations due to the significant contributions of both Steven and Tom.

However, rumors are just rumors. Publicly, at least, Renly appeared to have severed all ties with these industry giants. Today, however, Frank's words, relayed through Tim, reconnected all the threads. Not only Paul, but even Lucinda was taken aback.

"Huh, I guess I should say something now," Renly said with a smile. His relaxed, carefree tone lightened the mood, making everyone chuckle. "I'm not entirely sure what Frank meant, because I didn't hear it firsthand. So, I should either be thankful now or start brainstorming a whole new movie title. Since Frank isn't here, I'll just go with the latter."

His witty self-deprecation brought an instant shift in atmosphere, and the team couldn't help but smile.

Regarding Frank's topic, Renly had only heard of it today. It wasn't clear whether Andy had pushed this behind the scenes, if Jeff had reached out to Steven, or if Frank had taken an interest in the project. One thing was certain, though: Frank was leading the group of producers, which would benefit Killing Reincarnation.

In his past life, Tom Cruise was the dominant figure on the Edge of Tomorrow set, leaving little room for others. Naturally, there were fewer big names in the producer lineup. But with a top-tier producer like Frank on board, this project had a significant advantage.

Renly surveyed the room. "Any thoughts?" He turned to Derek, the author of the first script. "The original novel carries a serious and profound tone, discussing reincarnation and fate in Eastern culture. But our script is lighter, even incorporating some dark humor. Perhaps 'Killing Samsara' is a bit too heavy and harsh."

Derek didn't have much to say. He shook his head thoughtfully. Paul, sitting next to him, took the initiative to speak. "I think we need to define the core theme of the entire work first. The original novel centers on reincarnation, but what is the heart of our film? That's the first step to clarity."

Though it was Renly's first time meeting Paul, he immediately appreciated his approach. Paul, with his journalistic sharpness, was straightforward, precise, and saw the bigger picture before diving into the details. It felt like a conversation from his university days.

"The script now has a solid story," Paul continued, "and a good rhythm. But it's too... Hollywood." His tone was calm, neither exaggerated nor overly restrained—grounded and to the point. "This could be an excellent commercial film, but I don't see why it would make it to number three on the blacklist."

While Derek was the subject of the critique, he took it well, rubbing his bald head and smiling in a simple, disarming way. "I actually thought about this while writing the script. But honestly, I know very little about reincarnation in Eastern culture. I couldn't capture its depth without slowing the pace, so I just left it out."

"That's why the script got blacklisted," Tim chimed in, showing his support for Derek's creative approach. "Because it's a commercial script with brilliant creativity and smooth storytelling—but it doesn't have the depth to justify being on that blacklist."

"I don't see any depth in this version of the script," Paul countered, shaking his head. "It's just a smooth, single-player game story. It has content, but no soul."

"Reincarnation isn't that difficult to understand." Renly interjected, cutting through the back-and-forth. He returned to the central topic. "It's about the meaning of time. In Groundhog Day, the screenwriter first renders time meaningless—each day repeats, and no matter how hard you try, it's always the same. Then, time is reimagined. Reincarnation can be understood in a similar way."

Renly paused to gather his thoughts. If he were to delve into reincarnation from a Buddhist perspective, it would be a vast and profound topic, one Renly didn't claim to fully grasp. So he chose a simpler, more accessible explanation: "Reincarnation can be viewed as a cycle of cause and effect. A good deed might bring positive results; a wrong choice might lead to punishment. In this movie, Kai Qi suffers due to the consequences of the killing cycle."

Billy, who had been quiet until now, spoke up in a gravelly voice, "You mean every death impacts Cage differently?" Renly nodded. Billy shook his head, skeptical. "That's impossible. We're making a movie, not a novel. We can't detail the impact of every killing. That would make the script too tedious, and worse, the commercial appeal would vanish."

"I don't think that's a problem," Paul offered. "As long as we capture the emotional impact of each death, through one shot, or a few key moments, or change the way each death is portrayed, it can bring out Cage's emotional evolution without slowing the pacing."

This was a compliment and trust toward Renly's acting ability, but it wasn't the right moment for compliments. Renly steered the conversation back on track. "No, that's not what I meant." He took a moment to clarify his thoughts. "Cage starts out selfish, greedy, and cowardly. He's a typical salesperson, someone who sells war and victory, but looks at it from a detached, almost clinical standpoint."

"Oh?" Paul perked up. The connection between Cage's character and the White House officials was obvious to him. A journalist's instinct was sharp, and it was evident in Paul's keen eye for detail.

Renly chuckled, catching Paul's look. "We're making a commercial movie here." They exchanged a knowing glance before Renly continued. "But through each cycle of death, Cage begins to evolve. He learns responsibility, empathy, and starts to value his comrades. He realizes the true horror of war, and by the end, he understands that in the face of life and death, personal gain becomes irrelevant."

Both Derek and Billy were lost in thought, and Billy pulled out a notebook, jotting down notes quickly.

"In this process, Cage grows. At first, he's a coward, trying to escape. With each death, he's pushed to endure, eventually deciding to take on the burden of the war alone—not because he wants to be a hero, but because he can't bear to see his comrades die over and over. However, even in his attempt, he fails. Finally, he learns that the burden of war isn't his alone to carry. It's the collective weight of every soldier, bound together not to be heroes, but to protect their families and homes."

Derek leaped up, excited. "This can echo the beginning of the story—the other members of the team. Why did they join the war? Why do they despise Cage for deserting? It's not because he's afraid of death. It's because he treated the war like a game—there was no reason, no meaning, and no purpose in his fight. That's why he lost the will to live."

Billy, ever practical, shook his head. "Do you realize what this means? We need to develop these characters, make them grow, and create a strong emotional bond between Cage and the other team members—all while maintaining the pacing of the script. It's easy to say, but extremely challenging to execute. The heroine, Rita, is easy—just add a love interest, a few conversations, and some suffering. But what about the other characters? We don't have the room for that."

Renly smiled, appreciating the depth of their conversation. Paul nodded thoughtfully and spoke again. "Renly's point is that the core of the film is Cage's growth, which is defined through his repeated deaths and the emotional changes he undergoes with each experience. The other characters' deaths and interactions with Cage need to be impactful, too, but the essence is the transformation he undergoes."

"Exactly," Renly affirmed. "It's similar to Groundhog Day. Each reset, each cycle, represents a test for the protagonist. Others may just repeat the same day, but for Cage, each cycle is a new lesson on life, death, and meaning. The contrast between him and the supporting characters doesn't need to be explicitly stated—it will naturally emerge as the core theme of the film."