The Greatest Showman #782 - Three Live Treasures
"More intensity, please! Be fierce!" Paul urged.
"This is life and death, and you two are giving me this?"
"I've set everything up, and this is what you're showing me? The audience won't buy it!"
From behind the camera, Paul paced back and forth like an exasperated mentor, grumbling and gesturing animatedly. His frustration wasn't just after three failed takes—this was after only one. He'd already walked between the actors and the camera three times, seemingly ready to leave, only to turn back each time. His rambling complaints exposed his mounting impatience.
Renly and Jennifer struggled to suppress their laughter. Finally, Renly looked at Paul with a mock-serious expression. "What exactly do you mean by 'passion'? Are we talking about full-on saliva exchange and tongue entanglement?"
He could have simply said "French kiss," but he deliberately exaggerated, making the whole thing sound even more absurd. "Do you need more hand movements? Would that be too much?"
Paul blinked at Renly, momentarily stunned. As Renly continued to elaborate, Paul panicked and waved his hands. "You figure it out! You're both adults, you should know how this works. It's just… just…"
"Thunder and fire?" Jennifer chimed in solemnly.
Paul choked, then turned and fled. The entire set erupted in laughter.
Once the joke passed, Jennifer turned to Renly, her cheeks slightly flushed. Still, she maintained her professionalism. "So… tongues? You okay with that?"
Renly chuckled. "Shouldn't I be the one asking?"
Scenes like these often placed women at a disadvantage, and a considerate co-star would ensure their comfort before proceeding. But before Renly could speak, Jennifer took the lead.
She waved dismissively. "I'm fine. It's nothing major. But you—" she teased, "—always look like some untouchable, abstinent aristocrat. I feel like I'm corrupting your innocence."
Renly didn't smile this time. Instead, he maintained his gaze, his pupils narrowing slightly. The playful light in his eyes dimmed, replaced by something unreadable.
Jennifer suddenly felt like prey caught in a fox's gaze. Her spine tingled. Then, she saw the corner of Renly's lips curve slightly. "Good. We need to cooperate well."
Jennifer felt as if she'd stepped on a landmine. What now?
"Cut!"
Paul's voice rang out, suspending all action. But Jennifer felt paralyzed. Her breath hitched, her brain blanked, and a strange heat spread through her. A rush of adrenaline sent butterflies fluttering in her stomach, leaving her lightheaded.
Her vision blurred slightly, and Renly's face came into focus. His lips—rosy and soft—seemed to taunt her, as if coated in an invisible allure. The thought sent a jolt through her, and she quickly averted her gaze, taking deep breaths to steady herself.
Damn it.
She had lost composure entirely. Completely surrendered. It was almost humiliating. Yet, her pounding heart betrayed her—she couldn't lie to herself. She had to be careful with this man.
Stealing a glance at him, she unwittingly locked eyes with Renly again. His amused smirk deepened. Like a startled rabbit, she snapped her gaze away. Then, realizing how obvious her reaction was, she forced herself to look up again and glared at him. "What? Was there a problem with the scene?"
The second she spoke, she regretted it. Her voice was an octave too high—completely exposing her unease. She might as well have admitted defeat outright.
Renly's smirk widened.
"God, just kill me now," Jennifer muttered under her breath, exasperated with herself.
"Excellent!" Paul called out. "That was perfect! Today's work is done!"
Jennifer blinked in disbelief. "Director, are you sure?" Her performance had felt uncharacteristically raw—far too vulnerable. Wasn't that excessive for Rita's character? Shouldn't they do another take?
Wait—did she actually want to do another take?
"Absolutely!" Paul confirmed. "The emotions, the looks, the chemistry—everything was perfect! The audience will love it! I love it! Right, guys?"
Around them, the crew was still in a daze, overwhelmed by the scene's intensity. The air had crackled with tension, the chemistry undeniable. Finally, they nodded in agreement.
One glance was all it took to confirm what everyone was thinking: this on-screen chemistry had scandal written all over it. Gossip was already taking flight across the set.
Jennifer opened her mouth to argue but hesitated. Then, Renly's voice drifted over.
"Not satisfied?" His voice was deep, smooth—almost teasing. "I can do it again if you want. Your call."
His words, laced with a velvety richness, sent shivers down Jennifer's spine.
"No!" she blurted out, as if she'd just sat on a hedgehog. Realizing her outburst, she scrambled to recover. "I mean, I'm fine. If the director says it's good, then it's good! Couldn't be better!"
She glanced around, looking for an escape. "I—I'll go touch up my makeup."
"Jennifer, we're done for the day," Paul reminded her, but she was already gone, darting behind the makeup station like a fugitive escaping the heat. At last, she was free from Renly's piercing gaze and the knowing looks from the crew.
Paul turned to Renly, mouthing, "Is she okay?"
Renly chuckled, waved a hand dismissively, and stretched. Despite the intense scene, they had only managed to film four minutes of footage today—impressive, given the complexity. It had been a productive day.
Now, he needed a good massage. Tomorrow's scenes would be even more challenging.
Paul, satisfied, clapped his hands. "Alright, everyone! See you tomorrow!"
The Studio Advantage
Shooting in a studio had its perks—no weather disruptions and strict adherence to the filming schedule. It was also cost-effective, making it the preferred choice for most production companies.
Directors like Christopher Nolan, who insisted on shooting on location, were becoming rare. Paul Greengrass, who blended live-action with special effects, was among the few who upheld this tradition. This approach was part of what made Edge of Tomorrow special.
Filming had been progressing smoothly since November. With the box office success of 50/50 and Crazy, Stupid, Love, Barry Meyer had grown more confident in the film. When additional funding for VFX was needed, Warner Bros. had readily approved it, bringing the production budget to $130 million.
The set was lively, thanks in no small part to its so-called "Three Live Treasures"—Donald, Jennifer, and Alexander. Renly refused to include himself in their antics, but the rest of the crew knew better. Even Paul Walker seemed to suspect otherwise.