The Greatest Showman #1440 – The Only Way

Andrew and Renly. In a way, they are the same person—both inside and outside the mirror.

Andrew, a nineteen-year-old boy, entered Shelford, Juilliard School in the real world. He caught the attention of Fletcher and was admitted to the Academy's top jazz band, becoming its youngest member.

On one hand, Andrew suffers from low self-esteem, ridiculed and dismissed by his father, and constantly uncertain about whether he can truly achieve his goal. On the other hand, he is driven by the belief that his dream is to become another Charlie Parker or Buddy Rich. He refuses to give up, never compromising, continuing forward with the relentless determination of a bull.

The first rehearsal for the jazz band was a contradiction for Andrew.

He was nervous, fearful that his performance would fall short of the band's standards, and embarrassed at the thought of underperforming in front of the top musicians. But he was also proud, imagining a performance so perfect that it would shock everyone, propelling him to the top of the pyramid, where he could bask in the applause and the spotlight.

Caught between excitement and anxiety, anticipation and apprehension, Andrew entered his first rehearsal. But everything—everything—came crashing down under the weight of Fletcher's storm, and before he could even touch the peak, he fell into the bottomless abyss.

Renly's story is not dissimilar.

On the outside, he exudes confidence, but deep down, he too battles self-doubt and low self-esteem. He is constantly unsure of himself, questioning his worth. Still, he continues to pursue his dream with all his heart, earning praise, recognition, and success along the way, each achievement a step up the ladder toward the top.

Yet, even Renly became lost. The fame and success began to cloud his vision.

Now, he needs to return to his roots. He needs to reclaim his purpose, his direction. He needs to move forward.

So, he chose to become Andrew, blurring the lines between fantasy and reality. Even after the filming concluded, Renly could not fully detach from the character. He remained trapped in Andrew's world, clinging to the pride, the confidence, and the dreams that had all been shattered in Fletcher's storm. These dreams fled like a frightened dog in the wind, humiliated and covered in shame, unable to find refuge, only left to shiver in the cold.

Renly hides himself in the darkness, nursing his wounds in solitude.

He isn't sure if this path is the right one, if he's chosen the correct way out, or if he's simply stumbling forward with a blind and foolish determination. But... there's no one with the answers. No one has walked this road before. He is the first actor to set such a record, to push boundaries no one else has dared to reach. He can only stumble forward, like a blind man groping through the dark, crashing into walls, and continuing to foolishly hope that one day, he will break through.

This is the only way he knows.

He must hold onto the shame, the humility, and the devotion that once fueled him, remembering his original dream and why he started this journey.

Awards are undeniably important. No one can deny that they are crucial, a way to measure one's significance in the world. This is true in every field—whether in film, literature, technology, politics, or education. Renly understands this.

But awards are deceptive.

Not in the sense that they lie, but in the illusion they create. Every award carries immense significance within its historical, societal, and cultural context.

Take, for example, the 1989 film Driving Miss Daisy, which highlighted racial relations in the American South. It was groundbreaking at the time and ultimately won the Oscar for Best Picture, despite not being nominated for Best Director. It was an upset, a major one, and its victory opened doors for change, highlighting the progress made in racial equality.

But time changes perspectives. Paradise Cinema and Goodfellas from the same year, or Born on the Fourth of July winning Best Director, are now considered more timeless masterpieces.

This isn't to say Driving Miss Daisy wasn't a significant film. Its impact was monumental, and its Oscar win represented a step forward in social awareness. But awards are time-bound, shaped by the era in which they are given. They often reflect societal trends rather than artistic merit alone. Art, true art, transcends awards.

Consider the works of Alfred Hitchcock—Psycho, Rear Window, and Vertigo—or Stanley Kubrick's 2001: A Space Odyssey and A Clockwork Orange. These films didn't always win awards, but their greatness has endured through time. Their brilliance isn't tied to accolades, but to their lasting influence on the world of cinema.

This is Renly's perspective. When the congratulatory messages from colleagues, friends, and reporters flooded in after his EGOT victory, he acknowledged the awards, but he maintained his stance. His passion for acting, his dedication to the craft, cannot be swayed by external recognition.

He can't say whether Boomstick or his portrayal of Andrew will go down in history, but that isn't the point. What matters is his devotion to the craft, to performing as honestly and wholeheartedly as Andrew played his drum. Forget about historical records, fame, or accolades. He must return to the pure, unadulterated love of the craft.

In this sense, Renly and Andrew are becoming more and more alike. They are both driven by an unshakable belief in their dreams, even as they face adversity and uncertainty.

But how does one break through? How does one move forward? Can Renly make that leap?

He's not a failure. He's not a fool. He knows he can achieve his dream, and no hardship can stop him. He will rise, fight back, regain control, and prove himself. He will make those who doubted him bow their heads and admit their mistakes. He will stand under the spotlight and take his place in history.

But how?

The questions torment him, leaving him feeling trapped, suffocated by his own doubt. The walls are closing in, and he can hardly breathe. The pressure is overwhelming.

What should he do? What is the next step? The panic grips him. The uncertainty is suffocating.

What should he do?