The Greatest Showman #912 - Rise to Fame

"No one truly understands Renly Hall. And no one truly understands Renly Hall."

But what's surprising about this? In the age of fast-food culture, how many people are willing to slow down and listen to the artistic pursuits and dreams of an actor, a singer, or an artist? To put it another way, how many are willing to approach films, music, and art with patience, depth, and grounding?

The big screen is filled with popcorn movies, designed for quick fun and family enjoyment. Record stores and streaming platforms like iTunes overflow with catchy electronic dance music—singing, dancing, and losing oneself to the beat. There's nothing wrong with this; in a fast-paced world, where stress is ever-present, we need ways to relax and let go. We open our arms and embrace this fast-food culture.

But what happens to the art that requires time, reflection, and depth? What happens to the creative works that enrich our culture and push human civilization forward? Slowly, they fade into the background, gradually disappearing. In a world so saturated with entertainment, no one seems to care.

Renly Hall is an actor, a singer, an artist—or at least he's on a path toward art. Yet no one remembers the independent films that built his foundation and earned him his current standing. No one recalls the profound thought he poured into his music album, a project that took him months of work, only for it to be lost in the chaos of the market.

When people finally take notice of his excellence—his depth, his shock-value—they praise his work, only to then accuse him of being part of the "hype." This is the reality of artistic creation today.

No one truly understands. In fact, no one even tries. Art has become just another commodity in the marketplace—a crown to wear, a medal to show off. The true meaning of art is slowly withering away.

People blame the "hype." They blame Entertainment Weekly. But no one blames themselves.

Once the truth is revealed, look back at One Man's Concert, at the three Grammy acceptance speeches, at Don Quixote, and at Renly Hall. And when you do, you'll realize the smallness and discomfort you feel. People have been chanting, "TV is dead," "Movies are dead," and now, it seems, the next chant will be, "Dreams are dead."

"So, dream, if you dare. How dare you forget our scars? I'll turn into a beast for you. If you pay enough, everything counts. Only a few dreams will remain remembered."

This short essay, taken from Brando Fever, closes with the lyrics from The Beast. Accompanying the words is a hand-painted illustration.

The drawing is striking—an image of a scarred beast, blood dripping from its wounds, a crooked, blood-stained crown on its head. Its dark brown eyes reflect sadness and pain, yet it stands tall and stares ahead with determination.

It's vivid. It's alive. It mirrors the struggle of the lyrics and the dilemma of reality. It's a powerful depiction of the core idea of Brando Fever, a fitting tribute to the artist and his journey.

After the truth came out, there was a brief silence, followed by the media turning on Entertainment Weekly and Cornell McGregor. Then, netizens started to act. The frenzy began to surge across the internet. The same people who had once vilified Renly now took to defending him. They quickly distanced themselves from the scandal, positioning themselves as supporters.

"I've known Renly was never into hype," they claimed.

"How could Entertainment Weekly believe such lies?"

"Finally, the truth is out. I've been telling my friends Renly was innocent all along."

"I knew it! No one who created something like Don Quixote could be into malicious hype!"

"Haha, see? I told you, Renly Hall isn't that kind of person."

"Finally, the truth is restored! Otherwise, we'd be left believing the lies."

It seems like everyone has become a prophet, and suddenly everyone supports Renly. The narrative shifted in a blink of an eye. So simple. So easy.

But amidst the praise, Brando's fanatical article stood out. It garnered the most attention, with a staggering 5 million views in just 12 hours. The post was locked by Yahoo! community, but the views continued to climb.

Brando's article was reposted on various platforms, including Twitter. Paul Walker retweeted it, commenting, "One confidant is enough, but ten thousand blind followers are too few. This is the motivation to support Renly Hall and his journey." Ryan Gosling quickly followed suit with, "I'd like to be the second."

These simple retweets grew into a powerful force. As the number of retweets surged—one hundred, one thousand, ten thousand—the message spread far and wide. The narrative of Hypegate was reframed, and Renly Hall's image was restored.

With the truth out in the open, the focus quickly shifted to Renly's work. The performance in One Man's Concert, the Grammy acceptance speeches, Don Quixote, and the performances in independent films—this was the Renly everyone had forgotten. But now, people began to pay attention.

Renly Hall, the actor, the singer, the artist. Maybe not an "artist" in the strictest sense, but certainly not a star in the way the media often defines it.

In the aftermath of the negative press, the smudges and stains faded away, and Renly's crown finally began to shine. His true essence was revealed—not through hype, but through his work.

Crazy Love earned Renly another Best Actor nomination for the second year in a row, showing the world that it was still not too late to enter the cinema. And, perhaps, in the end, that's where the real story lies.