The Greatest Showman - Chapter 786

Hearing Andy's words, Renly raised an eyebrow slightly. At first, he assumed it was a new project, but upon further thought, he realized that new creations on Broadway and the West End were becoming increasingly rare. The trend was irreversible—classic masterpieces remained the safest bet.

"Film or theater?" he asked.

Andy, momentarily caught off guard, hesitated before grinning. Renly was always perceptive. When most people heard "Les Misérables," they immediately thought of the stage production, especially since the last film adaptation was in 1998. Given that Andy had spent the past few months searching for the right theatrical production for Renly, he had hoped to steer the conversation smoothly. But Renly saw right through him.

"Film," Andy replied smoothly. "This project has been shelved for 23 years. It originally belonged to Columbia Pictures, but no one dared to take on the challenge. Musical adaptations always struggle to find the right tone. After bouncing around, it finally landed at Universal Pictures. But listen—hear me out."

Renly smirked.

"Even though this is a Universal project, Cameron Mackintosh still holds the primary producer rights, and Universal has opted not to interfere," Andy continued.

"Cameron?" Renly echoed, tilting his chin thoughtfully.

Cameron Mackintosh, the legendary producer behind the English productions of Les Misérables, The Phantom of the Opera, and Miss Saigon, had never ventured into filmmaking. Les Misérables would be his first attempt. Universal, undoubtedly wary of mishandling a beloved classic, had sought Mackintosh's guidance. Yet, his involvement was both a strength and a potential weakness—his expertise could ensure fidelity to the stage production, but it might also stifle cinematic innovation.

"Yes, Cameron is assembling the cast. Tom Hooper has been confirmed as the director, and they're currently in the second round of casting. The first round ended a month ago," Andy explained. "But this is Hollywood—don't worry too much. I spoke to Cameron, and he's eager to see your audition. In fact, he's looking forward to it."

For unknown actors, the preliminary auditions were crucial, but for established stars, skipping directly to the final selection wasn't unusual. Renly wasn't a superstar yet, but he was no longer a nobody.

Andy rested his hands on his stomach, the usual smile playing at his lips. His eyes narrowed as he studied Renly's expression. "I know you're eager to return to the stage, but finding a truly worthwhile script in the West End or Broadway takes time."

It had only been three months since Renly had expressed his desire to return to theater—a short span in the grand scheme of things, especially given the hectic awards season. Andy had scoured every possible avenue, even searching Off-Broadway, but finding a script worth Renly's talent was like searching for a needle in a haystack.

Yet Andy neither sought credit nor made excuses. He simply laid out the reality. "Les Misérables is a great opportunity. Under Mackintosh's guidance, the film will remain faithful to the original production, almost like a stage performance. And with Tom Hooper directing—a Brit with a television background—I believe his approach to drama will be solid."

Renly's lips twitched. Andy's lack of theatrical expertise was obvious.

Film and theater were fundamentally different. The stage required raw, immediate engagement with the audience, while film allowed for retakes and post-production refinement. Renly longed for the thrill of live performance—the unfiltered intensity, the daily challenge of delivering an impeccable performance.

And then there was Tom Hooper. A television director by trade, his cinematic work often felt constrained by television conventions—technically competent but lacking grand cinematic depth. Renly had long considered Hooper's Oscar win for The King's Speech one of the Academy's weaker choices in the 21st century.

"Which role?" Renly asked.

"Marius," Andy answered, tapping his belly lightly.

Renly nodded knowingly. "Not surprising."

In Victor Hugo's original work, Jean Valjean's life spanned decades—his years in prison, his time as a mayor, and his eventual reclusive existence. Given the difficulties of condensing such a vast timeline into a stage performance, productions typically focused on Valjean's middle years. The same applied to his nemesis, Javert.

But characters like Fantine, Cosette, and Marius were young—between eighteen and twenty-five—prime opportunities for rising actors. Marius, in particular, was a crucial role. A privileged young man with revolutionary ideals, he abandoned his aristocratic upbringing to embrace the fight for the republic. His love for Cosette entangled him in the novel's sweeping historical conflicts.

Casting Renly as Marius made perfect sense.

"Any specific audition requirements?" Renly asked, unbothered.

Andy hesitated. "You're not objecting?"

Renly chuckled. "Of course I have my reservations. I want theater, not film—there's a fundamental difference. But your argument holds. Under Mackintosh's oversight, Les Misérables will retain its theatrical essence, and for actors, the core challenge remains the same."

Hooper's adaptation closely mirrored the stage production. Many cast members were Broadway and West End veterans, and their performances reflected that training. In contrast, Russell Crowe, a pure film actor, struggled—his singing ability aside, he lacked the stage presence and expressiveness needed for such a production. Hooper's decision to film Les Misérables as if it were a play exposed Crowe's weaknesses, leading to widespread criticism.

"I want to refine my fundamentals, master stage presence, and reconnect with live performance. But if a suitable theatrical project isn't available, this Les Misérables adaptation is the next best option," Renly concluded. "The audition process alone will be similar to stage work."

Ideas were already forming in his mind. Which scene should he perform? Should he incorporate Shakespearean elements? His Royal Academy of Dramatic Art training had prepared him well for such moments. The mere thought of stepping back into an audition brought an old thrill surging through his veins.

"Yes," Andy said, still slightly stunned. "The audition requires a dramatic performance, recorded and sent via email. Ideally, ninety to one hundred and twenty seconds—similar to a stage audition."

"That's right. The only difference is the absence of a live audience," Renly replied confidently.

Andy observed him thoughtfully. It was at this moment that he fully grasped the difference between a film actor and a stage actor. There was an unspoken intensity in Renly, a raw theatrical energy that transcended the camera's confines. What would it be like to see him command a Broadway or West End stage?

"Besides," Renly added with a sly smile, "I know you haven't given up."

Andy's fingers drummed lightly against his belly. "Are you guessing? Or are you certain?"

Renly smirked. "Now I'm certain."

Andy chuckled, while Nathan, sitting nearby, remained bewildered by the exchange.

Finally, Andy cut to the point. "I came to London because there's a promising theatrical project here. I wanted to discuss it in person."

Renly's eyes gleamed with interest. "So, whose work are we seeing tonight?"