The Greatest Showman #1047 – Family Secret

On the North American continent, the buzz had been silent for four weeks—suppressed, accumulated, and charged, until the box office energy erupted with force in Edge of Tomorrow. Across the Atlantic, on the British Isles, this commercial project, led by Renly Hall, had caused a frenzy at the box office.

Warner Bros. had taken into account Renly's previous three works and knew that the UK would be a crucial market for the film, where his box office performance had always been stellar. Consequently, they chose to premiere Edge of Tomorrow simultaneously in both the UK and North America.

After the premiere in Los Angeles, the entire crew rushed to London for the UK premiere, only staying for a mere eight hours before heading to Paris. For the next three days, they toured through Paris, Rome, and Barcelona before jetting off to New York, spending more time in the air than on the ground.

Despite the hectic schedule, the box office results proved the crew's efforts were well worth it.

In the UK alone, Edge of Tomorrow earned $14 million in its opening weekend—making it the second-highest opening of the year, just behind The Avengers ($25 million) and far surpassing The Hunger Games ($7 million). Such a performance was nothing short of impressive and sparked endless conversations.

The British film market, with its dual focus on both Hollywood-style commercial films and in-depth art films, warmly embraced Edge of Tomorrow. The film's deep themes and Eastern allure garnered a dedicated following, even surpassing the discussions in North America. On social media, it became the topic of the hour, and for many young people, it was the preferred choice for parties and social gatherings—beating The Avengers at its own game.

This frenzy carried into the following weekend when Edge of Tomorrow still grossed over $10 million in the UK, with a drop of less than 30%. For comparison, The Avengers dropped 50% in its second week, and The Hunger Games saw a 39% decline.

To say that The Hunger Games had become a massive cultural event in the UK would be an understatement—it had surpassed The Avengers in popularity, and Renly Hall was at its very heart.

Over the past six months, Renly had created a media whirlwind: Love Crazy had become a sensation, Transcendence earned rave reviews and Renly the Berlin Film Festival's best actor accolade, and the Almeida Theater's version of Les Miserables sparked a frenzy. Now, Edge of Tomorrow was adding fuel to the fire.

As one of the leading figures of the new generation in the film industry, Renly, an authentic Brit, was the subject of intense media discussion and admiration. His consistent ability to deliver outstanding performances was praised by professionals across the board.

In fact, Renly's popularity in the UK far exceeded that in North America.

As his fame grew, even the Pacific War tape rentals and online viewings surged, and people couldn't stop discussing his remarkable journey. Rumors and stories about Renly from London's West End spread like wildfire, with fans eager to share their own "Renly in my eyes" anecdotes and join the conversation.

Among those drawn into the hype was senior reporter Ned Mullan from Empire magazine. In the June 17th issue, Mullan wrote an article titled "Renly Hall: The Real Aristocrat," likening him to a drop of clear water falling into a pot of hot oil.

In the 21st century, noble children had largely lost their luster, with many entering everyday professions. Even Queen Elizabeth was no exception. However, the true aristocracy, which had once been firmly entrenched, still commanded respect. Figures like Eddie Redmayne, Tom Hiddleston, Benedict Cumberbatch, and American actors such as Edward Norton and Rooney Mara were considered part of the upper class, but not true aristocrats.

For these actors, their prestigious educations at schools like Eton and Harrow, as well as their families' wealth and connections, placed them in the upper echelons of society. While their status afforded them some privileges, they were still considered "new money" by the standards of true aristocracy. Their social challenges were relatively minimal.

However, Renly Hall's background was different. He came from a long-standing aristocratic lineage. According to Mullan's investigation, the Hall family name could be traced back to the 11th century, with a title granted in the early 12th century. Although the Hall family was only granted a barony (the lowest rank of nobility), they held significant influence and lands, with close ties to the royal family. The family had a rich legacy, which persisted for centuries.

Though the family's fortunes waned following World War I, and subsequent generations saw the title diminish, Baron George Hall, Renly's father, had worked to revive the family name. Similarly, Renly's mother, Elizabeth Hall, came from another noble family with a long lineage. Her childhood in ballet and painting, her popularity in social circles, and her eventual marriage to George Hall were all part of this aristocratic legacy.

Renly was no ordinary actor; he was a true nobleman, heir to a centuries-old title. Mullan's article detailed Renly's many accomplishments: his language skills at the Berlin Film Festival, his understanding of literature, art, and philosophy, and his musical talents. But it was Renly's aristocratic education that explained the noble grace and restrained elegance he exuded at just 22 years old.

Following the publication of Mullan's article in Empire, the internet was abuzz. It was clear now—Renly Hall was no mere actor. His lineage, his education, and his undeniable talent made him the epitome of aristocratic allure. The world had been introduced to a new kind of celebrity—a true nobleman, not just in title but in substance.