The Greatest Showman #835 - Ticket Sales

If he had watched the movie from the start, if he were in Berlin now, if he had a chance to speak with the audiences face-to-face... then perhaps he would stand up and argue on its behalf. But in reality, there are no "ifs."

He could only sit in front of his computer, scrolling through posts filled with curiosity, anger, and anxiety, unable to do anything to help.

William ran a hand through his hair in frustration and irritation, attempting to reply to the posts, but as his gaze locked on the screen, he fell into a daze. He never expected Renly's works might not be well-received, might fail, or even face criticism. After all, the name "Renly-Hall" seemed to guarantee quality, a belief solidified up to this point.

A mix of thoughts swirled in his mind, and he couldn't organize a single coherent idea. He rubbed his head in annoyance, grabbed the mouse again, and exited the post. He refreshed the forum mindlessly, lost, until he caught a new post—just released five minutes ago—by the familiar username, "Brando Fever."

William's eyes lit up as he quickly opened the post.

"The 62nd Berlin Film Festival is in full swing, and the work I care most about is undoubtedly Renly Hall's Transcendence.

After the premiere, the first batch of reactions have come in. Currently, Detachment seems to have fallen into a quagmire of mixed opinions, leading to countless debates and fiery support or opposition—movie fans are in an uproar, as though the world has ended. But in my view, it doesn't have to be this way.

Every great work is born with controversy. Van Gogh's paintings were once considered worthless; The Smiths' peak came only after their disbandment; classics like Blade Runner and Once Upon a Time in America initially faced harsh criticism—historical injustices like these are not uncommon.

Now, I don't suggest Detachment will reach the heights of these masterpieces, but the fact that the young master chose it shows he's striving for greater artistic breakthroughs. Therefore, the criticism, the disgust, and even the hatred are not only expected—they are embraced.

Watching a film is deeply personal. Just because others like it doesn't mean you will, and vice versa. You can love and hate a movie at the same time—mixed emotions are hard to explain.

In just 24 hours, the premiere of Transcendence has sparked such intense debates. Instead of worrying, I find myself even more intrigued. What kind of film could generate such strong reactions? What kind of work did the young master choose to create such an uproar?

Except for Pacific War, each of Renly's works carries his distinct personal touch. I am especially curious about his performance in this controversial film. To be honest, I'm more excited to see Renly tackle a cosmic rift than to engage in this mixed debate. What will that look like?

Finally, there's a rumor circulating that this may be the best performance of the young master's career!"

Brando's fanatical posts were as clear and structured as ever, always presenting a fresh perspective. The hand-drawn artwork accompanying the post depicted Renly in a cobalt blue polka-dot shirt, sitting at an outdoor café, his bright eyes and warm smile illuminated by the sun, exuding a calm, effortless charm.

William remembered seeing the same image in the latest Berlin Film Festival news. It had reported that Renly had met with fans on the street, enthusiastically discussing the movie.

Thinking about this, William's mood brightened. As Brando Fever said, Renly wouldn't mind this debate; in fact, he seemed to be relishing it. He was starting to look forward to seeing Aloof for himself, curious to understand the film's allure.

He typed a reply, "The Berlin Film Festival is known for its dedication to art, politics, and social issues. The fact that Detachment was shortlisted already highlights the film's artistic value and its potential for controversy. From this perspective, the film has already succeeded.

For the young master, the real achievement of this trip to Berlin might lie in the opportunity to discuss the film with fans. Also, the hand-drawing is beautiful—love it!"

After posting, William nodded in satisfaction and re-read the earlier critical comments. The angry, dismissive, and condemnatory voices painted a fragmented image of Transcendence.

Curiosity slowly began to take hold. William could hardly wait to see the film for himself.

In just an hour, Brando Fever's post had garnered over 3,000 replies, with its popularity index rising exponentially. The hand-drawn artwork posted alongside had exceeded 200,000 likes in 24 hours, making it the fastest post to reach such a milestone.

The influence was undeniable. On the other side of the Atlantic, the Berlin Film Festival seemed to mirror the internet's buzz: more and more heated debates, with rising expectations and curiosity.

Despite Berlin's film festival never matching the ticket sales of Cannes or Venice, usually due to its colder February weather and a more niche selection of films, this year was different. Typically, the Berlin Film Festival's tickets were not in high demand, with audiences often buying tickets in person after reading the program. It was rare to see a sold-out screening.

But today, Monica Hofbauer was shocked to learn that she couldn't buy tickets for the 3:00 PM screening.

"What did you say?" she asked, incredulous. The ticket seller confirmed with a smile, "There are no tickets left for 3:00. The only show is at 8:00 PM. There are still seats in three other theaters."

Monica stood there, stunned. "How is that possible? Detachment—the movie everyone hated? How can all the tickets be sold out?" She had expected the film to struggle at the box office, not sell out.

A middle-aged man nearby chimed in, "That movie's a disaster. You shouldn't bother watching it."

"It's uncomfortable to watch, but not a disaster," replied a younger man waiting for his friend. "I didn't like it either, but I think it's worth seeing. There might be something unexpected."

Monica's confusion deepened. "If everyone hates it, why are the tickets sold out?"

"You're joking, right?" The middle-aged man shook his head. "Is everyone going just to see the handsome lead? It's not Twilight!"

"Maybe it's curiosity about how bad the movie really is?" another man suggested.

"Detachment is a film worth reflecting on," a woman spoke up, defending the film. "You might not like it, but it could mean something to others. It's uncomfortable, yes, but it's a wonderful piece of work."

Monica raised her hand, halting the argument. "I just want to understand why some people like it and others don't. No need to argue further." She turned to the ticket seller, "I'll take two tickets for the 8:00 PM screening."

The ticket seller grinned and nodded. Monica sighed in disbelief, "This is my sixth year at the Berlin Film Festival, and I've never seen a movie sell out before. This is amazing."

"Yes, we didn't expect this either," the ticket seller said with a smile. "It's like Toronto in that way. The tickets are always in demand, and the lines are always long."

Berlin had, at long last, experienced a shift—a new energy had arrived after a long absence.

Monica smiled as she took her tickets. "Well then, let's see what's going on."