The Greatest Showman

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The high-pitched voices were so engrossed in the conversation that no one noticed Renly's presence at all. Several young people on the right-hand side of the bar are arguing with red faces.

"...No no no, haven't you found it? 'Cleopatra', 'Believe it', 'Go ahead', these songs all hide the essence of rock and roll..." "So you think he Could be a second Bob Dylan? I admit he's great, but he's not a Bob! There's only one Bob in the world..." "...but there's only one Renly Hall in the world!"

The argument was so heated that no one noticed that the tall figure who had just passed by was the object of their discussion. Renly retracted his chin slightly, and hid his face in the shadows. He pushed the door and entered the Pioneer Village Bar. The scene of people coming and going and woven guests was filled with the atmosphere of a party, surging warmly, rushing towards his face. The incoming heat made his vision blurred, and he didn't know where to land.

Before I could take a closer look and look for any familiar faces in the crowd, a small old man with white hair and a short stature approached him. Before passing by, he suddenly stopped and went backwards. Two steps, standing in front of Renly, those cloudy eyes hidden in the dim light looked up and down, showing a hint of nitpicky and playful, and said without warning, "You are an interesting guy. "

I thought it was just a stranger passing by, but hearing this sentence attracted Renly's gaze, and then saw Woody Allen's iconic black-rimmed glasses, the little old man was still expressionless, but The slightly flushed cheeks still added a touch of kindness than usual. Aware of Renly's inquiry, Woody didn't care. Not only did he have no intention of explaining, but he added, "I mean, you're more interesting than I thought."

"The 'Match Point' type of fun, or the 'Midnight in Paris' type of fun?" Renly teased back with a faint smile in his eyes.

"Scarlett-Johansson-style fun," Woody said meaningfully, pushing up his black-rimmed glasses.

The big director has repeatedly stated in public that Scarlett is his "muse" and the source of creative inspiration. Scarlett also served as the heroine of Woody's films three times before and after, "Match Point", "Scoop", "Midnight Barcelona".

Renly raised his chin, his eyes gleaming with playfulness, "So you're saying, you got inspiration from me? Next, you will create a script with me as the core character?"

Woody chuckled.

This is the first time Renly has seen such a cheerful expression on Woody's face. It can be seen that Woody is indeed in a very happy mood tonight, and his whole body is filled with an indescribable lightness, "Young man, don't be too greedy, too. Don't be too arrogant." Woody narrowed his eyes and replied sharply, "My muse is a woman, in the past, and in the future. Men are not helpful for creative inspiration." As he said, On the other hand, there was also a look of disgust, "Women, only women."

The same sentence Woody repeated twice, emphasizing his point, made Renly laugh, "And what about 'Midnight in Paris'?"

"If you've seen this work, you should know that Owen-wilson is referring to me, and those who are really inspired by mobile Paris, and Marion-Cotillard cotilrd)." Woody explained it patiently, considering the two previous meetings, this is absolutely impossible. "But I have to admit, you're an interesting guy."

This is the third time Woody has repeated the same sentence.

"Is it because I'm so bored that there's no better adjective, or is your brain shutting down tonight and it's the same words over and over again?" Renly responded with sarcasm instead of being humble or flattered. past.

Not only was Woody not angry, but he gently retracted his chin, with an expression of "as expected", as if he was very satisfied with Renly's response, "I can use this line in the script of 'Midnight in Paris', But a pity."

The following words were not said, but the meaning could not be more obvious: the timing was not right, so Renly missed the opportunity to cooperate, and "Midnight in Paris" was already released at this year's Cannes Film Festival.

"If you miss it, it means it's inappropriate, and there's nothing to regret." Renly shrugged lightly, but after speaking, his expression became condensed, "Have my purpose been achieved? Is this the most appropriate tone of voice? ?" The subtext is to say: The answer just now is a routine, not deliberately flattering, but choose tit for tat, like a clear stream, can you stand out among the actors who are constantly courting Woody?

Renly said it in such a playful and self-deprecating tone that he was actually making fun of Woody. He is always used to being surrounded by others, looking at him with longing and admiration, which is one of the reasons why he doesn't like Los Angeles. Flashy Vanity Fair.

Woody pursed the corners of his mouth, "You're not the first. I believe, you won't be the last." The unmoving general wind returned the ridicule to Renly, "We should stop this conversation, Because you're getting cheesy and boring, that's not a good sign." The acerbic Woody then stabbed Renly again and walked away shaking his head.

Walking up to Renly, he seemed to remember something, and paused again, "Is the 'Don Quixote' album your idea? I know it's not George Slender's, nor Stanley Charlesson's. of."

"George's idea, my creation." Renly wasn't humble, but he wasn't proud either, telling the truth.

This sentence made Woody ponder, and he sighed meaningfully, "God, what a wonderful thing if you were born in the 1960s." He patted Renly's arm, put his hands behind his back, staggered out of the bar, and walked away.

Watching Woody's back, Renly's thoughts could not help but diverge. He can taste the sighs and regrets in Woody's words, as well as the expectations and satisfaction hidden behind Woody's words.

All along, Renly knew that Woody was a stubborn and proud little old man, and he was a rare literati in the whole of Hollywood—not an artist, but a narcissistic, ink-filled but complaining literati; Li also knew that Woody played the saxophone in the bar every Monday, deeply reminiscing about the glory of jazz in the fifties. But he did not expect that the album "Don Quixote" could touch Woody's inner softness.

The seemingly boring nonsense just now hides Woody's approval. This was not anticipated before the album was released.

It's a bit ridiculous to say that Renly and Woody have only met three times. They have never cooperated, not even an opportunity. The longest conversation was just this one. But vaguely, Renly felt friendship in Woody, like... like George, like Stanley.

Shaking his head with a chuckle, this self-indulgent, wishful thinking is best stopped there.

Passing through the crowd and coming to the bar, you can see at a glance Neil, who is very busy. With a cheerful smile on his face, he chats with the guests from time to time, but his work is not idle at all. He is skilled. The gesture has become a habit. Renly couldn't help but look around, not sure if he should roll up his sleeves, go back to his old business, and help.

At this moment, a graceful girl came over, lay on the bar, and shouted loudly, "Bartender, bartender!" She had short, capable hair, highlighted in a conspicuous emerald green, and her short-sleeved top showed There is a beautiful rose tattoo on his left arm, and the deep facial features are feminine and feminine, but the short hair style and bright makeup burst out a boy-like handsome and handsome, not to mention smearing. There was a cigarette in his right hand with black nail polish.

Between the two of them, the place was a bit crowded, she turned her head and raised her chin towards Renly, "Dude, make some room, how about it?" With a look of surprise, "Hey, you're Renly, aren't you? The protagonist of the party tonight?"

After recognizing Renly, she simply turned around, with a playful smile on her face, looked at Renly seriously, "What should I say, you look a little different from the photo, but you It's the same image I had in my head." She put the cigarette to her mouth and nodded contentedly, "Man, I honestly don't like this album, and I don't think anyone can beat it in terms of folk music. Bob Dylan, your lyrics are still not good enough. But man, I admire your courage! That alone is worth my admiration! How about I treat you to a drink and a face?"

"My honor." The smile at the corner of Lan Li's mouth rose involuntarily, not because of the other's praise, but because of the other's immaturity. Although she exuded a mature temperament, the innocence of her face could not be concealed. Renly could bet she wasn't of legal drinking age—twenty-one in America.

This answer made the girl raised her eyebrows and patted the table hard, "This is another reason why I like you! I just like this kind of simplicity, it's much better than those mother-in-law men. They always It's insistence that men must invite women to drink, what's the point of this?" The girl called out again, "Bartender, here, here!"

Neil finally came over, and the girl said boldly, "Seven bottles of Heineken! Hurry up!"

Neil nodded, looking for Heineken beer, and raised his head to start a conversation, only to see Renly standing next to him, his expression suddenly brightened, "Jesus Christ, you are coming tonight, why didn't you let me know in advance? Stan? Leigh also said just now that you may not have time to come over this time." After the machine gun general said a lot, before Renly could respond, Neil stepped up to the bar and shouted, "Guys. Guys! Let's give a warm welcome to this week's miracle worker, Renly Hall!"

In the hustle and bustle, the hustle and bustle of shouts began to rise one after another: Renly! Renly! Renly!

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