The Greatest Showman #1331 - Analysis of Vases

It's so wrong."

Andy felt a strange sensation, but couldn't pinpoint why. He paused, reflecting, but the feeling remained elusive. With a slight tilt of his head, he asked, "What about chick flicks? You know, romantic comedies—like 'Wind/Moon/Pretty/Beautiful/Ren'?"

Renly nodded, a thoughtful expression on his face. "A chick flick. That's an interesting idea. It could spark something fresh, perhaps. Worth a shot."

Andy opened his mouth, about to speak again, but hesitated. Everything was going too smoothly. Renly hadn't raised any objections or refused, which wasn't his usual approach.

This wasn't normal.

Andy pressed on, "How about the 'Star Wars' reboot series?"

Renly chuckled lightly, "Andy, you know Disney won't use this as a bargaining chip. Diesel isn't that important."

A sense of relief washed over Andy. "So, you haven't lost your mind."

Renly raised an eyebrow. "Which part made you so suspicious?"

Instantly, Andy felt a shift—sharpness in Renly's tone that stilled the air. His heart almost stopped, but the feeling passed quickly, replaced by the warmth of Renly's smile.

Andy shook his head. "Didn't you notice? You just agreed to everything—animated films, chick flicks, fairy tales—no hesitation. It's too easy, too abnormal. If I didn't know you never joke about work, I'd almost think you were playing a prank."

Renly laughed, a touch of amusement in his voice. "You mean, you're more used to me saying 'no'?"

"Yes. I'd rather hear 'no' from you than 'yes' to everything. You look like you've been brainwashed. That's not the Renly Hall I signed with," Andy said, his smile becoming stiff. "Or is it because of Diesel that you're so agreeable?"

Renly's expression hardened, but his response was firm. "I don't need Diesel to dictate my career choices. Besides, he's not worth it."

Andy couldn't help but laugh, repeating the words, "Not worth it," and nodding in agreement. "If not, then why? Are you joking, or are you serious?"

"Serious," Renly said. "Of course, I can still read the script. I can't star in everything. My standards should be higher than Nicolas Cage's." He smirked, adding a touch of humor to his words, and Andy chuckled.

"I just want to explore new possibilities," Renly continued, explaining his shift in perspective after his recent vacation. "I've always focused on studying acting techniques, diving deeper into character exploration. That's my long-term mission. Like 'Popping Drummer'—it's the motivation behind my performance."

"But beyond that, performance can bring different feelings," Renly mused, drifting into his thoughts. "At the Earl's party in Oxford, they thought performing in public was an insult, a form of depreciation. But when art was first born, its enjoyment was one of its core functions."

He spoke about Oscar Wilde's The Picture of Dorian Gray, about the interaction with a painter and a male model that sparked the idea for the novel. Art, Renly believed, both came from life and transcended it—interpreting and elevating it.

Renly paused. "My past work hasn't been separate from life. But I've become so focused on artistic exploration that I've neglected the broader range of performance. I don't want it to become disconnected from life, just a lofty idea in the air."

"So, I want to open up new possibilities," he concluded.

Andy listened, clearly intrigued. "Imagine a role in something like 'Pretty Woman.' That would be interesting."

Andy frowned, surprised. "Wait, you mean as the pretty face? Hollywood already has enough of those. You want to be part of that?"

Renly nodded. "You know, once, being called a 'vase' was a compliment—only the handsome or beautiful could be called a vase."

Andy stared, speechless. "Ha! Ha! So, you're saying I should be honored to be called a vase?"

Renly shrugged with a grin. "Last year, when I was voted People magazine's Sexiest Man of the Year, you were the first to announce it."

"Yeah, it was me. But what did you say then?" Andy mimicked Renly's cool tone. "Oh, that's good news. Thanks." He sighed dramatically, slumping his shoulders. "Even the street cleaners show more emotion than you."

Renly laughed softly, clearly entertained. "Okay, okay, I get it. But find me some good projects. Don't embarrass me, or reporters will ask me: 'Renly, aren't you an actor? Why are you in a bad movie? You don't even look interesting as a vase.'"

Andy shot Renly an exasperated look, but Renly wasn't phased. "Andy, you know, you're starting to look more and more like Roy. That expression—it's his signature move, even the eyes."

Andy groaned. "Stop! You always know how to get under people's skin."

Renly smiled, unbothered. "I know how to find people's weaknesses. Everyone has them. But compared to Elf, I'm still not as skilled."

Andy raised an eyebrow. "And what about you? What's your weakness?"

Renly smiled again, but said nothing.

Andy, feeling defeated, raised his hands in surrender. "Okay, okay, let's move on. What's the status on Boom Drummer? I heard the shooting schedule is still up in the air."

"Right. Disney sent me two emails with project ideas—no scripts yet, just concepts. I'll forward them to you shortly. Review them and give me a general outline, then we can negotiate further. The Diesel thing needs to be expedited." Andy added, "Also, there are two major parties in Cannes I need you to attend: one with Giles Jacobs and Thierry Fumaux, and another for Drunken Country Ballads. The Coen brothers are pushing hard for your involvement in independent film promotion. I think it's worth it."

Renly raised an eyebrow. The Coen brothers, who had tried to approach him a year ago, were back now, this time through Drunken Country Ballads. It was an interesting turn of events.

"No problem," Renly said with a nod, though his mind briefly wandered.

Andy squinted, still skeptical. "You've been acting a little off today. I have to ask—did something happen when you were in London?"

Renly gave a soft laugh, his gaze calm. "Don't worry. When I need to say 'no,' I will. But for now, just enjoy the ride. Maybe tomorrow, I'll start saying no."

Andy's suspicion grew. "You know, the reason you've made it this far is because you've always been yourself—the one and only Renly Hall. Please, don't change. I still like the old Renly."

Renly's response was a quiet, almost inaudible, "Well."