The Greatest Showman - Grand Debut

The howling winter wind cut through the night, and the air was thick with drifting snowflakes. The cold was so biting that one could barely feel their hands or feet, yet the red carpet at the heart of the Berlin Film Festival was alive with noise. The usual hustle of the crowd was slowly being overtaken by a sense of control, a subtle shift that marked the evening as something special.

Mark was ecstatic, jumping up and down in pure celebration, as if caught in the wild joy of a carnival. His energy was contagious, and those around him couldn't help but join in. A boy nearby, about his age, shouted in awe, "It's incredible that Renly is so kind and considerate!"

For at least fifteen minutes, Renly had been fully immersed in the fanfare—signing autographs, taking pictures, and exchanging hugs. It was as if the red carpet itself had two distinct sections: the first, near the main venue, where reporters frantically pressed shutters with telephoto and wide-angle lenses; and the second, farther away, where the audience reveled in the scene, almost forgetting the freezing winter night.

Mark, with his enthusiasm uncontainable, shouted over the noise, "I'm not surprised at all! Last night, Renly stayed up late with us to finish our project report! He's amazing! The best, honestly!"

The young man beside him looked at him skeptically. "Are you serious?"

Mark merely gestured toward Renly, who was still engrossed with fans, his presence infectious. "You can verify it yourself."

A sudden, deafening shout pierced the air: "Ahhh! Renly, I love you!" It was a boy's voice, powerful and full of raw emotion. The surrounding noise faltered for a moment before the crowd's energy surged even higher, as Renly turned his gaze toward the boy and responded, "Thank you." The response was like a spark to dry grass, and the volume of the crowd shot up once again.

Mark felt a realization dawning on him. He had always wondered about the reverence fans had for Renly, especially those who called him "Master." The term had never made much sense to him, but now, after experiencing the excitement firsthand, he felt like he understood—just a little bit. With a grin, he shouted along with the crowd, "Master!"

One by one, others followed suit, and soon the air was alive with the chants of "Master! Master! Master!" It was deafening, a force of nature, and even the cars on the road slowed down as they passed the spectacle. Pedestrians and diners paused, drawn into the strange magnetism of the moment.

The bustling street outside, once filled with the usual noise of traffic and people, now felt still—frozen in time, as if the world had momentarily stopped turning. The waves of shouts echoed through the night, becoming one of the defining moments of the 62nd Berlin Film Festival.

Renly, sensing the rising chaos, knew he needed to leave. The traffic was already beginning to spiral out of control, and the work of the traffic officers was becoming increasingly difficult. So, after a final wave to the crowd, Renly turned and walked away, retreating toward the press area.

Mark stood, watching him go. The excitement in the air lingered as he gazed at Renly's diminishing figure, now small among the crowds and towering buildings. But then, just as quickly, the flashes of cameras and the shouts of the crowd swept over him like a tidal wave, and the figure of Renly reemerged—larger than life, steady in the storm. It was only now that Mark understood the true significance of the title "Master Renly."

This was the moment that Mark would remember—the night of the premiere. His testimonial, shared among a small circle of friends, wasn't something meant for the masses. It was a personal memory, one that began to grow, like a seed taking root, eventually blossoming into something more.

As Renly reached the first half of the red carpet, everything became more familiar. The cameras, the interviews, the spotlight—it was all second nature. The questions were routine, focusing on his impressions of the festival and the films he had seen in the past few days. The host asked about his favorite films and his thoughts on the Berlin Film Festival in comparison to others like Cannes and Toronto.

But there was a small disruption in the flow of the evening when a new figure entered the scene—a small, silver-haired man with round Harry Potter-style glasses, wearing a silver-gray shirt beneath a green wool vest, topped with a dark brown suit jacket. His unique fashion sense brought a few chuckles, but the reporters were instantly energized. The cameras flashed like a waterfall as the man approached Renly.

With a friendly smile, the little old man extended his right hand, placing his left on Renly's shoulder. "Hoho, you're taller than I expected," he joked, causing a ripple of laughter.

Renly, ever quick with a retort, replied, "We're not on a basketball court, so I think I'm safe."

The old man's name was Dieter Kosslick, the president of the Berlin Film Festival. Since assuming the role in 2001, he had worked tirelessly to maintain Berlin's status as an artistic and political beacon in the film world. He was known for his steadfast pursuit of quality cinema, welcoming both Hollywood productions and more niche European films. Despite the commercial influence of Hollywood, Dieter had earned respect both in Germany and across Europe.

Dieters' presence was rare at a movie premiere, so his appearance at the Transcendence premiere was a surprise, particularly because he was a fan of both Renly and director Tony Kaye. As he stood before Renly, he smiled warmly. "Tony Kaye and I have been friends for years. I've always wanted him to come to Berlin, and now, after fifteen years, he finally has. I couldn't let him come without saying hello."

Renly chuckled. "He's been great. Always gives his best."

Dieter was in Berlin tonight not only for Kaye but also to support Renly, whose growing fame as a European actor with Hollywood appeal was vital for the future of the Berlin Film Festival. After their brief conversation, Dieter patted Renly's shoulder and moved on, leaving Renly with a few final words of encouragement.

Before leaving, Dieter offered one last comment. "Stick around, Renly. There may be some surprises ahead." His words lingered in the air, and Renly soon realized what he meant.

In a surprising twist, several high-profile jury members of the main competition unit arrived, including Asghar Farhadi, François Ozon, and Charlotte Gainsbourg. Their presence added a layer of prestige to the premiere, and soon, the screams from the crowd escalated once more.

It wasn't just a film premiere—it was an event, and Renly had become the star at its center.