WTR-LAB: The Greatest Showman #818 - The Scent of Copper

It was only the first day of publicity when Renly began to feel the ache in his back. He wasn't sure if it was an illusion brought on by the passage of time or actual physical pain, but the discomfort was undeniable. By 11:15 PM, after a long day of interviews, when the last conversation finally ended, Renly had to stretch and move his body. No matter how many hours he'd walked or how many martial arts drills he'd practiced, he had never felt this exhausted.

Standing before the floor-to-ceiling windows of his hotel room, he gazed at the quiet, solemn city below. Most of the urban landscape had fallen into darkness, already in sleep mode, but Potsdamer Platz was still alive, bustling with activity. He felt a pang of regret. Being at one of the three largest film festivals in Europe and spending his time alone in a hotel room seemed like a missed opportunity.

So Renly decided to change. He slipped into a low-key, comfortable outfit: a black T-shirt, black jeans, and a black motorcycle jacket. Quietly, he left the hotel room, walking into the cool night air.

The streets were wet, and the loud voices of young people echoed in the silence. It felt as though the city was asleep, save for the few souls dancing alone in the night, without any background music. Renly crossed the street and found himself back at the cinema in the Sony Center. He didn't have a particular film in mind; he simply bought a ticket for the next showing and quickly blended into the crowd.

As much as he enjoyed engaging with fans, there was something magical about losing himself in a film alone.

He entered the theater, grabbed a movie poster, and sat in a corner. The film was titled Just the Wind, directed by Hungarian filmmaker Benedek Fliegauf—a name Renly had never heard of, and a film he hadn't seen. But the allure of discovering unknown gems at festivals, especially from countries like Algeria or Lithuania, was always exciting.

After reading the movie details with growing interest, Renly looked up and saw two figures ascending the stairs toward him. They paused for a moment, as if debating whether to sit next to him.

It was only then that Renly noticed two movie posters left on the seats next to him, presumably from the previous screening. He quickly picked them up and gestured politely, saying, "This seat is free."

As the figures moved closer, Renly's eyes finally landed on their faces. The backlight from the ceiling illuminated their profiles, giving them an almost ethereal glow. Despite the dim lighting, Renly instantly recognized them: Joel and Ethan Coen.

The Coen brothers were legendary in Hollywood, icons of independent film, and masters of dark humor. For fans, No Country for Old Men was a thunderous triumph, and Thunderbolt had recently turned the tide at the Oscars. But for veteran followers, their early works—Blood Labyrinth, Barton Fink, Raising Arizona—were considered classics, etched in the annals of cinematic history.

Renly admired their work deeply. The Coen brothers' films, filled with irony and reality, always maintained a rare sense of humor in the face of suffering. He'd never had the chance to meet them at Sundance or Telluride, but here, in Berlin, was his opportunity.

A smile crept onto Renly's lips as he stood up and greeted them: "Good evening."

Joel and Ethan both stopped, turning their eyes toward him. Joel, the older brother, was taller, his face angular. Ethan, the younger, had a small, flat head and a beard that gave him a kiwi-like appearance.

The Directors Guild of America had specific rules that prevented two directors from being credited on the same film—unless one wasn't a member. Officially, Joel was the director, while Ethan was the producer. But in reality, the brothers' roles were indistinguishable. Only recently had the Guild revised its regulations, allowing them both to receive directing credit.

Ethan, always the more genial of the two, looked at Renly and gave a polite nod in return.

Joel, however, was more direct. His sharp demeanor, coupled with a slight frown, made it clear that he wasn't in the mood for pleasantries. He asked bluntly, "Who are you? Do we know each other?"

Renly blinked, taken aback by the abruptness. Before he could respond, Joel turned his back to him and walked away without another word, leaving Renly stunned.

Ethan paused, glancing at his brother before turning back to Renly. With an apologetic smile, he nodded once and said nothing further. As Renly looked on, Ethan followed Joel, leaving the situation in awkward silence.

Renly couldn't recall any confrontation with the Coen brothers. He was puzzled by their coldness, especially Joel's sharp reaction. Was there something more to this encounter that he didn't understand?

As the brothers walked away, Renly couldn't help but chuckle softly. Despite the awkwardness, his curiosity about the scene had only grown.

From the hushed whispers that filled the room, Renly caught snippets of conversation. Joel muttered about "a guy full of copper stench," and Renly soon realized that Hollywood's PR battles had escalated into a full-blown war. Gossip, rumors, and slander were rife, with figures like Harvey Weinstein the subject of much scorn. Renly wasn't interested in probing deeper—Hollywood was a cauldron of speculation, and he didn't need to add fuel to the fire.

Soon, the lights dimmed and the film began.

What followed was surprisingly captivating.

Just the Wind told the haunting tale of a brutal family murder in a small village. The killer was gone before anyone could react, and the surviving family, who lived nearby, found themselves ostracized by their neighbors. The film explored the suffocating isolation and fear that comes from living under the weight of suspicion—a theme not unlike the Danish film The Hunt. While the violence in Just the Wind wasn't as visceral as in The Hunt, it was still deeply unsettling.

Renly found the film thought-provoking. As the credits rolled, he slowly left the theater, trailing behind Joel and Ethan, who were surrounded by a group of excited film fans.

Just before leaving, Renly met Ethan's gaze. He offered a polite smile and a nod, but Ethan's response was colder than expected. With a brief glance away, he turned and joined Joel, walking off into the night with the crowd.

Renly chuckled quietly to himself. The awkwardness had passed, but the questions lingered.