The Greatest Showman #1509 - Clapping on the Spot

Christopher Nolan, in his own way, had no special attachment or aversion to Renly. He regarded him as just another actor—no more, no less.

For Christopher, the concept of modern fame seemed foreign. He refused to use a cell phone or email, had no grasp of social media, and didn't know the names of many new-generation stars. The world of Taylor Swift, Kristen Stewart, Chris Hemsworth, or Justin Bieber? It was all a blur to him.

As for Renly, Christopher was unaware of his EGOT win, his historic achievements at the Oscars, or even his past works. He had never seen Renly's films. It wasn't personal—it was simply his way.

Emma Thomas, his wife and producer, often said he lived like a man of the nineteenth century, immersed in his films rather than the celebrity world. And this extended to Renly. To Christopher, Renly was merely an actor who was always mentioned in Hollywood circles, but he had no specific opinion about him.

Still, Christopher remained open to the possibility of Renly playing a part in Interstellar. Why? Because of one thing—age.

Renly, at twenty-three, might seem like an odd fit for Cooper, a role written for a man in his forties or fifties. Sure, Hollywood makeup might make it possible, but Christopher still questioned: Why choose a young man when the right-aged actors are abundant?

Before meeting Renly, Christopher had already shown interest in the actor through Andy, always drawn to performers with solid acting skills. Christian Bale, whom Christopher admired greatly, was often his first choice—except for scheduling conflicts.

But with Renly, there was something different. Praise for him abounded, and when Emma, too, endorsed Renly for the role, Christopher's curiosity grew. Yet, when Renly expressed his interest in playing Cooper, a character vastly different from his usual roles, Christopher couldn't help but wonder: What would it be like?

"If you were to play Cooper, do you have any special ideas?" Christopher asked, curiosity piqued.

Renly's response was a surprise: "No, no ideas."

Christopher frowned. "You don't seem like someone without ideas."

Renly chuckled. "In my view, Cooper is a special character. His story, growth, and personality are stripped away in the film, leaving only the emotional bond with his children, especially Murphy. That bond becomes the film's focus, not his personal journey."

"What that means for an actor is to express emotional depth, not the methodical exploration of a character's backstory. It's about showing the emotions, not the character's life history," Renly continued.

Christopher was still confused. "You mean, Cooper's role is too thin?"

"Exactly," Renly nodded. "Think about it. Why did NASA choose him for the mission? Why did he retire? Why is his bond with his children so strong? These are all questions, but the script doesn't give us a deep dive. It offers only background, disconnected from the character's actual motivations, leaving Cooper as a mere outline."

Renly paused and then added, "In commercial films, this approach works. The audience doesn't need to see every detail of a character's past. They just need to understand the core, which in this case, is Cooper's relationship with Murphy."

Christopher considered this. He wasn't sure if he agreed, but it was certainly an interesting perspective. "You still haven't answered my original question: If you were to play Cooper, do you have any special ideas?"

"No, no," Renly repeated, then added with a grin, "For the actor's part, I'd focus on building memories and stories with the actors playing Murphy and Tom. I'd want to understand their background. For example, what happened to their mother? How did Cooper's retirement relate to his children? What's the nature of his relationship with Murphy and Tom? These are the elements I'd want to explore with the cast."

"For me, even in commercial films, characters like 007 or Ethan Hunt are living, breathing beings with their own stories—stories that may not be fully told on screen, but still matter. These background stories inform the performance. Even if the audience never sees them, the actors' performances reflect them."

Christopher's brow furrowed, then a thought crossed his mind. "I think I get it. The quality of the performance comes from this emotional depth you're talking about."

Renly smiled. "Exactly. Heath Ledger's portrayal of the Joker comes to mind. On set, I couldn't understand what he was doing, but Christian Bale explained it to me. Heath's method drove him to the edge, but that's what gave his performance soul. That's what you can't fake."

Christopher's expression softened for a moment, a hint of sadness in his eyes. "I understand now. You're saying that these emotional layers—this philosophical depth—don't need to be explicitly stated in the script. They'll be conveyed through the director's visuals and the actors' performances. They won't disrupt the rhythm of the film; they'll enhance it."

A flicker of realization crossed Christopher's face. "Renly, would you be willing to play Cooper?"