The Greatest Showman #1481 - Wait Quietly
Strictly speaking, the "Boomstick" crew had only five professional actors: Paul Reiser, Melissa Benoist, Austin Stowell, Renly, and J.K. Simmons. Among them, Renly was not only the most famous but also a producer. Damien frequently collaborated with him to refine scenes from both a performance and narrative perspective, making Renly the de facto acting coordinator on set.
Now, he was also the only one who sensed the lingering tension in Simmons' performance.
Even before Damien could say anything, Renly took the initiative. "Fletcher, wait for my cue."
"What? What... what?" Simmons blinked as he slowly emerged from his thoughts.
"We need to shoot close-ups," Renly clarified, keeping his tone neutral. He avoided being too direct, allowing Simmons time to transition back to reality at his own pace.
Simmons hesitated for a beat before responding, raising his right hand to signal "OK" and nodding repeatedly. "No problem. Of course, no problem." Yet, his expression remained unfocused, as if he were still lost between dream and reality.
"That's better," Damien interjected, hurrying over. He masked his earlier nervousness and focused on his work, explaining the camera setup to Renly and Simmons.
These close-ups were spontaneous reactions to the raw energy on set. Since they had adjusted the framing based on the actors' performances, Damien needed to provide specific direction himself, ensuring the shots aligned with his vision.
Once the briefing ended, filming resumed.
A Relentless Shoot
This scene was far more complex than expected. The crew went through over twenty takes. Only seven were interrupted due to errors; the rest were Damien meticulously capturing different angles and close-ups, mentally piecing together the final edit as he worked.
From daytime to night, the entire workday was consumed by this single scene.
At last, Damien clapped a hand on both Renly's and Simmons' shoulders. "Thank you. Thank you! Great work!"
Renly and Simmons stared at him blankly, their exhaustion palpable. Damien felt the weight of their gazes and faltered. He had pushed them to their limits.
Then, finally, a smile ghosted across Renly's lips. Damien exhaled in relief. "I thought… you two were about to… I mean… never mind."
Renly nodded. "Hard work is one thing, but at least we've completed today's task. That's enough. Have you got everything you need for the edit?"
"Yes! Absolutely enough!" Damien assured him.
Truthfully, part of the reason for the extensive shoot was precaution. They had only one day to film in Alice-Tully Hall. Afterward, Juilliard needed the space, making reshoots impossible. Damien had pushed for extra takes to ensure they had ample material for post-production.
Technically, they had exceeded the union's stipulated working hours. Yet, every crew member gave their best until the very last frame.
Simmons' Withdrawal
Simmons stood off to the side, silent. A faint smirk flickered on his face, but something about his demeanor felt off. He nodded brusquely as Renly and Damien wrapped up their conversation. "That's it for today? Then I'm heading out."
Like a shadow melting into the night, he slipped away.
Damien watched Simmons' retreating figure, a shiver running down his spine. "Is he… okay?"
"We'll see tomorrow," Renly said simply.
He recognized Simmons' state all too well. No one could help him now—Simmons alone had to find his way back to the boundary between fiction and reality. Otherwise, no one could predict what would happen next.
Because of the film's non-chronological shooting schedule, the crew had to maintain the integrity of the characters' arcs. In the coming days, both Andrew and Fletcher would need to return to an earlier emotional state—a fresh challenge for both actors.
Damien nodded absently, then refocused on Renly. "You must be exhausted. Get some rest. And about your hand—do you need to get it bandaged?"
Renly smirked. "I think we've had enough drama for now. No need to rehash the same story again."
With that, he nodded farewell and strode away along the crimson carpet of the concert hall.
A Watchful Presence
Stepping out of Alice-Tully Hall, Renly moved through the empty rows of the auditorium, the exhaustion weighing on both his body and spirit. Yet, he didn't want to rest. He wanted to hold onto the sensation of the performance just a little longer. That moment of artistic transcendence—the breakthrough for both Andrew and himself—was something rare and exhilarating.
From the corner of his eye, he noticed a familiar silhouette sitting in the back row. A small smile tugged at his lips, but he kept moving forward.
The figure stood up slowly, unhurried.
Even as Renly exited the hall, she took her time adjusting her clothes before following. When she finally pushed the door open, she saw him standing outside, watching the Manhattan streets with a contemplative gaze.
Renly was still in Andrew's costume—a simple black shirt and standard suit pants, the kind that could have come from a discount retail store. Sweat had soaked through the fabric, dried, and soaked through again, leaving it wrinkled like the skin of a Shar Pei.
In that moment, there was nothing glamorous about him. He looked like an ordinary college student, someone you might pass by in Brooklyn without a second glance.
Rooney Mara chuckled softly.
Today was the film's most challenging scene. Many friends had visited the set—Paul Walker, Ryan Gosling, even Andrew Garfield. But as the hours stretched on, one by one, they had all left.
Except for Rooney.
She had stayed, quietly watching from the sidelines. Because of the film. Because of Renly. There was something captivating about witnessing a top actor at work. When someone is truly immersed in their craft, they radiate a unique kind of brilliance, an undeniable allure.
She took a step forward and stood beside him. Only then did she notice the cigarette dangling from the corner of his mouth. His brow furrowed, his face shadowed with fatigue, yet the glimmer of sharp intelligence remained in his eyes. Despite the rumpled clothes, there was an undeniable charisma about him.
Rooney tilted her head. "So… are you imitating James Dean now?"
Renly's lips twitched. "Do you like James Dean?"
Rooney blinked, caught off guard. "No."
Renly exhaled, the hint of a smirk playing at his lips. "Then I'm not."
The night stretched on as the city hummed around them, but in that moment, there was nothing but the quiet understanding between them.