The Greatest Showman #1184 - In-depth Communication

1,146 In-depth exchanges

In the story segment of Drunk Town Ballad, LeVinn Davis's life seems to remain unchanged. He appears to return to the same place after his journey, almost as if he's gone in a circle. But after careful reflection, can we truly say that nothing has changed?

In just one week, LeVine discovers he's about to become a father, yet finds himself trapped in a dilemma. He must raise money to dispose of the child—because he impregnated his best friend's wife and, unable to provide for the child, feels he has no choice.

LeVern meets a group of young dreamers entering the folk music scene. They opt to compromise with the commercial market, becoming younger and more commercially viable. Their success is evident, but LeVern refuses to join them, even though he envies their achievements.

LeVine embarks on a desperate journey to Chicago in search of his break, but fails. Upon returning, he tries to give up his dream by joining a crew, but loses his crew card and much of his savings. Dejected, he returns to the Gaslight Bar.

He is stuck in a cycle. Spinning in place, struggling to survive and persevering, yet unable to find a way out. After completing the same journey, he ends up back with his ballads.

Why do LeVerne's ballads always seem so bitter? Because that's his life.

It's not easy for actors to understand and delve into LeVerne's dilemma, but that's not the central issue. The real challenge lies in capturing the internal conflicts and subtle changes these dramatic turns bring to LeVerne's mindset.

Without change, the character becomes numb and stagnant. There are no emotional highs or lows, just a flat trajectory, which causes the story's drama to disappear in performance. The audience will lose interest. This is especially true when the Coen brothers depict an era where everything seems to go in circles, risking the audience's patience in the absence of performance evolution.

By the end, it seems as though nothing has changed—but LeVerne is, in fact, different.

Renly can't help but reflect on whether Oscar Isaac's performance in his previous life lacked the layers and depth needed to convey LeVerne's transformation. The memory now feels a bit hazy, and Drunk Town Folk Ballad leaves behind only vague fragments, while its finer details are lost.

This reflection helps to explain part of the issue. Oscar Isaac's performance was undoubtedly solid, and Renly personally admired it. However, it lacked lasting impact and depth, with the tail end falling short, affecting the character's evolution and the story's aftertaste.

Given the tight schedule, how should the role of LeVerne be portrayed? More specifically, how can his struggles, caught in the wave of folk music, be presented in just seven days? While a week isn't enough for LeVine's personal state and mindset to undergo profound change, how should those scattered ripples of transformation be represented?

Renly needs time and space to break free from the Ryan Stone narrative and immerse himself in the world of LeVerne Davis, but unfortunately, that is precisely what he lacks.

The script is intriguing, and so is the character.

On the surface, the performance may not seem overly challenging. After all, the story doesn't delve deeply into human nature or philosophy. Compared to the profound depth of Gravity, Drunken Country Ballad seems like a simple, refreshing ice cream—a straightforward narrative with little difficulty. But when Renly takes a moment to deeply reflect, the real complexities emerge.

The challenge is much greater than expected.

Lacking the time to analyze the script or explore the character in depth, Renly has taken an extreme approach in the past few days: he's been listening repeatedly to the original soundtrack of Drunken Country Ballads.

With no time to delve into the script or the characters, Renly has used the music as a bridge to gradually immerse himself in the soul and life behind those melodies. It has also allowed him to peer into the era and history reflected in those musical symbols, entering the world of 1960s folk music and into the world shaped by the Coen brothers.

Had Renly more time, he would have sought out the real voices of those who lived through that era—experts and ordinary people who experienced the wave of folk music firsthand. He would sit down and have long conversations to deeply understand the 1960s ballad wave—learning from history, anecdotes, and firsthand accounts.

Unfortunately, time is not on his side.

So, Renly has taken a more direct approach: asking a series of questions to the Coen brothers as directors, the co-stars in the same project, and, importantly, to himself. Then he waits for answers, eagerly awaiting the brainstorming sessions and the exchange of ideas that will spark new inspiration for his performance.

"LeVerne Davis is not just a symbol," Renly reflects. "In the current tide of the times, he's just a drop of water. He might represent a loser to some, but in LeVerne Davis's world, he's not just a drop; he is the whole world. So how do the changes and turmoil of this world unfold? How do they manifest?"

"Through music? Or through performance? Or through the lens of the camera, which foreshadows the plot? Specifically, the beginning and the end. LeVerne performs the same piece in both, but are there differences in these two renditions? Is the arrangement different, or is there a difference in the interpretation?"

As Renly enters the world of performance, he transforms. His gaze sharpens with a newfound intensity, his voice steady yet resonating with deeper meaning. His ease morphs into a series of interconnected thoughts, each more profound than the last.

His eyes narrow, yet with intense focus, as the room quiets, centering only on Renly and the Coen brothers. The noise of the world around them fades into nothingness.

When Renly poses his question, Joel remains silent, lost in thought, but Ethan jumps in, offering a response: "Well, how should I put it? I think performance and music are intertwined, inseparable."

Renly smiles and chuckles softly, "Sorry, I don't think I expressed myself clearly. Let me rephrase." He continues, "In my view, every sound, every song in the soundtrack, finds its match in the long history. They are inherently tied to the creator."

"In other words, the environment, background, and person who created the song—the era it reflects, its trajectory—all of this complements the entire story. These aren't just songs anymore; they're microcosms of the era, portraits of each character."

Renly leans back, eyes fixed with laser focus, completely absorbed in the conversation. To him, this is more than a simple exchange; it's a soul-stirring dialogue with the script, the directors, and the characters.

"This means every song carries its own narrative weight. Each one tells a story, embodies a character. And more importantly, the singer isn't just singing the song—they're interpreting it. My question is, should the re-creation and re-arrangement of the song adjust accordingly? Does the singer's interpretation reflect an understanding of the character?"

"If so, the way the songs are arranged and performed will differ. Furthermore, during the live performance, the approach will change. I remember you mentioned earlier that all tracks will be performed live on set, not dubbed in the studio, right?"

Renly turns to Joel and directly addresses his earlier question, prompting a brief silence in the room. Everyone around him pauses, lost in their own thoughts. It's clear that Renly isn't just speaking casually—he has deeply considered this, bringing profound and comprehensive perspectives to the table.

The rumors within the industry seem to echo in the background: Renly is not just an actor; he's also a singer, a music creator, and, above all, an artist. Before the name "Renly Hall" became synonymous with excellence, many other titles could be attached to his name. But ultimately, Renly is exploring his art, pushing boundaries in music, performance, and creation.

Renly's insights into the performance and creation of music show his unique perspective—one that challenges and inspires the director, screenwriters, and co-actors, injecting a new level of energy into the process. This, in turn, sparks an endless flow of creativity as he collides with the stories and characters of Drunken Country Ballads.

Though others thought Renly might be distracted, failing to listen to the director, the truth is far from it. Those around him may have been passively absorbing information, but Renly, though seemingly distracted, was fully engaged, savoring every word and extending new possibilities for his craft.

So, who is the truly dedicated one?

In this moment, no one notices the restless figures around them. All eyes are on Renly, who has fully immersed himself in the world of Drunken Country Ballads. His collaboration with the Coen brothers has turned into a dynamic brainstorming session, filled with sparks of inspiration.

In just a few days, through the mastery of the original soundtrack, Renly has already built a detailed world of 1960s ballads in his mind. He's come to understand the role of LeVern Davis, though time remains too short for everything to be fully realized. But his concepts and ideas have evolved beyond the surface. He still needs to engage with the Coen brothers and fellow actors to refine his performance.

Joel and Ethan exchange excited glances, silently thanking their lucky stars for having found Renly.

4o mini