The Greatest Showman #828 – Sweating

"Director, it's undoubtedly a huge challenge to cast such a young actor, Renly Hall, in such a deep and complex role. What made you choose Renly in the first place?"

"Renly, welcome to Berlin, and thank you for bringing such a remarkable piece of work. Before taking on 'Transcendence,' you had already achieved considerable commercial success. Choosing such a bold, experimental project must have required a lot of courage. What was your mindset when you decided to take on this role?"

"I have to ask, Renly—there were three scenes that stood out to me. One was the bus scene, another was the farewell scene with Erica, and lastly, the final recitation scene. These moments are filled with such strong, delicate emotions, and the connection between the beginning and the end is so clear. How did you approach portraying these moments?"

"Tony, I'm curious about the heavy use of close-ups and the grainy film texture. What inspired you to choose this style? And how did you capture the subtle details of Renly's performance?"

"Renly, can you speak about your co-stars? The two young actors were making their big-screen debuts, but their performances were truly remarkable. What was it like working with them?"

"Renly, I noticed that Henry's emotions were calm, almost indifferent, when he first appeared, and this continued until the end. There wasn't the expected sadness or loneliness. How did you approach this aspect of his character?"

"Tony, I'd like to ask about the Adolph-Hi/T/L suggestion. Does it have any deeper significance?"

"Renly, how did Henry handle his relationships with his grandfather and mother? How did he become a teacher without family guidance? Can you share the process you went through to understand and portray his character?"

As customary at film festivals, after the screening, the audience was invited to ask questions. Renly took the lion's share, handling more than two-thirds of the inquiries. The microphone felt like a hot potato, continually passing through his hands. Even when he tried to direct questions to others like Sammy, Betty, Carl, Marcia, and Tony, the questions always circled back to him.

Each question was so detailed and thoughtful—far beyond what Renly had encountered at Sundance or Telluride—that it was overwhelming. But this is what the audience at a film festival comes for: they want to engage with the creators, to discuss and debate the nuances of the film, whether in support or critique.

Art exists because it inspires diverse perspectives. If everyone thought the same after watching a film, if there were no room for debate or differing opinions, then the work would fail on an artistic level. Popcorn entertainment is about enjoyment, not intellectual challenge, and that's a different matter altogether.

The 30-minute Q&A session was packed with intensity, and when the final question was asked, it was clear that time had run out. But Renly answered every query graciously. This was followed by a separate session with reporters, which was a different atmosphere. The journalists left their seats, and the crew was surrounded by a sea of questions.

Surprisingly, it wasn't the two rookie actors who were surrounded by the least attention; it was Carl Lund, the screenwriter. Even though he was largely behind the scenes, he too was surrounded by reporters—seven or eight at a time. But the real focus? That was reserved for Renly.

Renly's section was a complete frenzy, with a crowd gathered three layers deep around him. It resembled the chaos of a popular booth at San Diego Comic-Con. Still, there were a few journalists circulating around the outskirts, pulling Tony, Marcia, and others aside with, "You should ask Renly this," or "Why not ask Renly? He's the right person to answer this."

The crowd surged like a wave, closing in from all sides, trapping Renly in a tight space. There was no escape. As the heat of the situation grew, Renly felt his back starting to sweat.

It was an unexpected scenario. For someone like Renly, who had spent much of his life training to avoid sweating in public, this was particularly uncomfortable. In the past, noble etiquette often involved avoiding visible sweat—especially in the summer months, when it could be seen under the armpits, which was considered rude. To counter this, people would either change their clothes or cover up with a heavy coat.

Renly, however, had never been one to go to such extremes. And though he usually sweated minimally in calm environments, the overwhelming situation in Berlin's cold February air had him perspiring.

Eventually, the reporters started to disperse, though Renly couldn't tell how much time had passed or how many questions he had answered. All he knew was that his throat felt dry and sore—a truly embarrassing sensation.

Just then, a bottle of water appeared in front of him, accompanied by a calm, restrained voice. "Next time, I'll be prepared," said the voice.

Renly turned to see Jake Gyllenhaal standing a few steps away, carefully holding the bottle at arm's length. It was clear that Jake was keeping his distance, maintaining a polite boundary. His smile was warm, but his posture was stiff, and his shoulders seemed a little tight.

Renly accepted the water, raised a hand in acknowledgment, and took a couple of small sips. As the dryness in his throat subsided, he looked up at Jake. "The difference between a rookie and a veteran shows in the details."

Jack let out a shy laugh. "The first time is always tricky, but it gets easier. Though, for many, the first time is a struggle."

Renly smiled. "Are you complaining about your first trip to the Berlin Film Festival?"

Jack shrugged, his lips curling into a grin. "I've never been in the main competition. So, honestly, I don't get why they picked me as a judge."

"Didn't they also invite an Algerian writer?" Renly teased, prompting Jack to pause in surprise. He nodded seriously. "I suppose that means I'm not so bad after all."

Such is the unpredictable nature of the three major European film festivals. Every year, the jury composition seems strange: writers, photographers, models, and even unknown actors. But one thing remains constant—the chairperson of the jury, often a reliable figure who sets the tone for the entire festival.

Jack, catching Renly's gaze, continued, "Congrats on the incredible work. Your lines were just perfect. You managed to convey so much with so little. How do you do it?"

Their first meeting, along with their initial greeting on the red carpet, had been brief. Yet here, Jack was filled with enthusiasm and curiosity, eager to understand Renly's process. Renly couldn't help but laugh at the situation.

"Jack, you're an excellent actor," Renly began, only for Jack to interrupt with a dismissive wave. "Not great—just excellent."

The bluntness of Jack's self-assessment revealed his inner disappointment. "When I worked on 'Brokeback Mountain,' Lee kept telling me to feel the emotions behind the lines, but I couldn't do it. It was really frustrating. If you worked with Lee, I think it would be amazing. You'd definitely meet his expectations."

Renly, understanding Jack's struggle, responded candidly, "Jack, have you ever studied at a formal acting academy in the UK? Reading lines there is an essential skill. The trick is that we're not reading scripts... we're reading the newspaper..."