The Greatest Showman #747 - A Work for the Occasion

The entire Alice-Tully Hall was packed. Not only were the seats filled, but the aisles between them were also crowded, and even the back was standing-room only with four or fifty people. The scene felt less like the premiere of a commercial film and more like a gathering of film masters at the New York Film Festival. It was imbued with both an academic atmosphere and a fervent fan energy. The crowd was quiet, almost serene, but beneath the surface, their enthusiasm was palpable.

After the earlier disruption, the premiere that resumed felt different—less chaotic, more solemn, yet still as still as water. As the creators, led by Seth and Renly, stepped in front of the audience, there was a respectful applause. There were no whistles or shouts, just a heavy, almost subdued, round of claps.

Tessa watched Renly silently from behind, noting how he had shed his previous embarrassment. He no longer looked out of place, though he hadn't changed his clothes. He still wore the same white shirt and jeans from the red carpet. His curly hair was messy, his face makeup-free. He appeared casual and unaffected, an ordinary young man rather than the artist his reputation suggested. In the sea of people, Tessa could easily spot him, her gaze not straying. The admiration and longing she felt for him had only grown since their first meeting in Toronto, and though her awe had settled, it hadn't diminished—she had slowly come to see the soul beneath his exterior.

In fact, Tessa liked Renly even more now: clean, simple, pure.

Jonathan Levin and Seth Logan had given their speeches earlier, expressing regrets for the earlier incident, briefly introducing "Anti-Cancer Me," and sharing their expectations. Now it was Renly's turn.

He stood at the podium, microphone in hand, momentarily lost for words. This was a rarity for him. In all of Tessa's memories, this was the first time she'd seen Renly speechless.

He sighed softly. "I just want to say that movies are important, but there are things in life that are more important than movies." Renly's voice was still hoarse, traces of the earlier incident still lingering. "That's what 'I am fighting cancer' is about. I hope it's a good movie, but I hope it's an even better night. So, enjoy it!"

Such a simple sentence, yet full of meaning. Tessa understood, and a soft smile appeared on her face. Her heart warmed, like a shooting star across the sky. Her eyes felt a little misty, and as she looked at Renly, his figure seemed to blur, but his firm smile remained clear.

As the creators took their seats, Tessa noticed Hope's expression—similar to her own. For them, this night was more than just the premiere of a movie. It meant something deeper. Renly, too, had a complex emotional weight that only those who'd truly experienced it could understand.

Words can't always express everything, but eyes convey it all.

"Phew, I'm already looking forward to the movie," Tessa whispered, as if trying to release the tension building in her chest.

Hope nodded in agreement. "Me too." After that, the two of them quietly focused on the big screen, awaiting the film to begin.

The lights in the screening hall slowly dimmed, and finally, darkness took over. After all the twists and turns, the premiere of "Anti-Cancer Me" finally fell into place. As the movie title flashed on the screen, the audience settled into an expectant silence. For the next 100 minutes, they would enter the world of the film, leaving behind the concerns of the real world.

The first shot introduced Renly's character. Dressed in a navy blue hoodie, dark blue T-shirt, black athletic shorts, and white football socks, he looked like a typical American jogger. He ran through Seattle's Harbor Park, where the green, smoky water reflected the cold winter air. The camera followed Renly, immersing viewers in Adam's world.

When the traffic light turned red, Adam stopped despite there being no cars. A woman crossed the road briskly, disappearing in an instant. Adam stared after her, his expression confused. After a moment, his gaze returned to the red light, but he hesitated before stepping forward.

Tessa smiled softly at Renly's awkward expression. He looked like a lovable nerd, and it was a refreshing surprise.

At home, Adam found there was no shampoo in the bathroom. After a brief hesitation, he picked up a bottle of women's shampoo from the shelf, sniffed it, and raised an eyebrow slightly. No extra expression, but his dissatisfaction was clear.

Dressed and ready, Adam had a casual conversation with his girlfriend Rachel, who was brushing her teeth. He nervously suggested she empty a drawer for her personal items. His shy demeanor and uneasy eyes reflected his inner tension, while the subtle sweetness of the moment shone through.

On the way to work, Adam—who didn't have a driver's license—was picked up by his friend Kyle. Kyle, impatient, greeted Adam with a fist bump. Adam, in an unexpected move, responded by covering Kyle's fist with his palm. Kyle gave him a stunned look before leaning in to sniff Adam's hair, now smelling of Rachel's shampoo.

The reaction was met with laughter from the audience, echoing throughout the screening hall. In just the opening three minutes, the small details of Adam's life had already begun to build his character. His awkward, nerdy charm brought out a wave of laughter and warmth in the audience.

"Me Against Cancer" was undeniably a comedy. Tessa was now convinced. Renly's comedic performance was refreshing, eye-catching, and wonderfully executed.

From the awkward coffee shop banter to the formal but slightly awkward workplace discussions, Adam and Kyle's friendship created a magical dynamic that had Tessa smiling throughout. It wasn't the kind of comedy that forced laughs, but rather a gentle humor that made everything feel lighter.

But that lightness was fleeting. When the doctor announced Adam's diagnosis—back pain due to a malignant tumor—Tessa's smile faded. Adam's initial disbelief gave way to shock, panic, and eventually a quiet resignation. The raw emotions were palpable, and Tessa felt the weight of them in her chest.

Watching Adam on the bus, his face etched with quiet pain as he stared out the window, Tessa couldn't help but feel a deep sense of loss and confusion. This wasn't despair—it was a kind of numb grief, as if life itself had become too much to navigate.

The moment Adam chose to open up to Rachel and Kyle about his diagnosis, Tessa understood the film's title. "My Cancer-fighting Me (50/50)." The 50/50 odds of survival became a symbol of hope and despair, a chance at life even in the face of terminal illness.

Kyle's comforting words echoed in Tessa's mind: "Fifty percent is better than nothing." The same sentiment applied to Adam's fight. It was a chance, a shot at survival. Though it didn't sound as dire as other statistics, there was still a quiet, hopeful chance.

But it was Adam's mother, Diane, that truly broke Tessa. Diane, upon hearing the news, rushed to the kitchen in a frenzy, trying to prepare green tea—something the "Today Show" had claimed could reduce the risk of cancer by 15%. Adam, gently and helplessly, reminded her, "But I already have cancer."

Diane's heart-wrenching response, a cry muffled by her son's embrace, brought a rush of emotion to Tessa's eyes.

A fifty percent chance? Was it truly a fair ratio to stake one's life on? Could numbers really defy fate? Tessa didn't have an answer, but the film's exploration of hope, loss, and resilience left her with a lump in her throat.