Walking into the small living room of the apartment, Ryan slumped onto the sofa, burying his pale face in his hands.
Just like he said, he knew exactly where the problem lay, but the reasons were so complex that outsiders could never truly understand.
No acting skills? That was impossible. Even a pig, if it performed non-stop for nearly ten years, would become a master actor. Let alone a clever and smart boy with the experience of two lifetimes.
In fact, he knew very well that apart from being unable to resist looking into the camera lens, the real problem lay elsewhere.
Firstly, the image of Haley Joel Osment in his previous life was too deeply imprinted. As soon as he thought of acting in The Sixth Sense, that image would pop into his mind, prompting him to imitate it. Yet, another voice in his head said imitation was wrong and he should forge his own path. The consequences of such internal conflict were predictable.
The second, and most crucial reason, was that from infancy to childhood, and then from a child to a boy, he had been acting non-stop for over nine years. He had long been deeply immersed in this role and could no longer get out. By now, especially after Nicole's appearance, he could no longer separate himself from this world, unable to distinguish whether this was a dream or reality, or whether he was Ryan Jenkins or Lu Ming. While there seemed to be no abnormality in daily life, the problem became apparent when acting in another role.
What was this? Acting within acting? A play within a play? Ryan could only smile bitterly.
"Ryan." Nicole Kidman couldn't help it in the end. Unnoticed, she had entered the apartment and come to Ryan's side.
"Nicole." Smelling that incredibly familiar scent, Ryan leaned in and naturally rested his head against Nicole's soft abdomen. Warmth and peace surged into his heart.
Leaning on the second closest person to him in both his past and present lives, his confused and restless heart seemed to regain clarity. When Nicole's soft, sweet lips touched his forehead, Ryan gradually came to a realization. The past life was over; the present life needed to be embraced. Whether Lu Ming or Ryan Jenkins, I am who I am, a unique existence in this world!
But could the past life truly be left behind?
"Nicole, thank you. I think I understand a lot now." Ryan jumped onto the sofa and, before Nicole could react, kissed her fair cheek.
Nicole Kidman just thought Ryan was showing his affection and dependence, and didn't mind. "This is the confident Ryan I know."
"Let's go out. Let's not keep people waiting too long." Ryan took Nicole's hand, as if holding his entire present world in that grasp.
No one could have expected that in just ten minutes, the boy who had previously seemed to lack any acting skills and appeared a total outsider, would make such a dazzling transformation. Not only did he nail the previously stuck shot in one take, but in the following scenes, every shot he was in required no more than three takes.
If it had been due to a lenient director, that would be understandable—but they all knew that David Fincher, although he never lost his temper, was meticulous to the extreme. Even a monologue by Al Pacino had once been stopped nearly twenty times by him.
Under such conditions, for the boy to maintain such a high pass rate for shots—it made many secretly click their tongues.
Most of the scenes shot in those three days were fragmented. There weren't many for Nicole, but just as Ryan had thought, Nicole not only wore aging makeup but also reined in her usual icy elegance. Having acted in London theatre for over a year and discussed the script many times with him, the results were evident—her acting at this time was far better than at the same stage in her past life.
Especially after hearing Ryan's initial offhanded remarks, she almost entirely became that single mother character. Undoubtedly, this gave her a significant boost.
Seeing Ryan and Al's performances improving, David Fincher did not hesitate to adjust the shooting schedule, bringing forward a few confrontation scenes between the two.
Upon seeing David Fincher's hand gesture, the script supervisor called out, "Scene 11, Take 22, action!"
"Cole!" In the empty corridor, Al Pacino squatted beside the boy in a purple school uniform. "I didn't see anything."
Ryan's lips trembled slightly, with fear and hesitation, his body seemed to tremble with fright. "Don't move! Sometimes you'll…"
"Cut!"
The boy, seemingly unaware of Fincher's shout, continued mumbling to himself. Only after finishing that line did he shake his head hard and look confusedly toward the camera. "Did I mess up?"
"It wasn't you, it was Al's expression that was off!" David waved his hand.
Ryan let out a small sigh of relief, said nothing more, and sat quietly on a chair nearby. But he overheard a crew member teasing Al Pacino, "Al, you NG'd three times for that shot. Pick it up! Don't let this little guy outshine you."
"Want some water?" Pat Kingsley handed over a water cup.
"No thanks, Pat." Ryan replied sincerely. Because Nicole was often away, Mrs. Kingsley played both agent and nanny roles.
"Ryan, you're getting too immersed in the role. It's taking longer and longer to detach," Kingsley warned.
"It's fine, Pat, don't worry. You know where this character comes from."
Ryan sighed and once again used that excuse. Undoubtedly, the method acting approach was the most commonly used one among actors, but its flaws were also glaringly obvious. Once too immersed, it became a huge problem—especially for someone like him who couldn't distinguish fantasy from reality after getting into character. It was far harder to come out of the role than for the average person.
Of course, the benefits were also obvious—just listen to the crew's praise for him.
Perhaps spurred by Ryan's performance, Al Pacino brought out his Oscar-winning level of acting in the following takes. That scene passed in one go. But when they shot the scene where the two guessed riddles in a room, Ryan's state seemed to vanish, perhaps overwhelmed by Al's presence.
"Acting is like the Chinese national soccer team's goal shots—unreliable. They score own goals when they shouldn't, and miss open goals when they should score!"
Ryan mumbled as he sat on the sofa. In his eyes, an actor's state was as unpredictable as a football player's. When in the zone, even a bicycle kick from outside the penalty area would score. When not, even a one-meter empty goal would be sent flying into the stands.
"Ryan, that's how acting is—your state will always fluctuate." Al Pacino, sitting across from him, tried to comfort him.
"But Al, this time it's half your fault I lost my state." After three days of working together, they had grown familiar. Ryan didn't hesitate to throw the blame on the gentlemanly older man.
"All right then, as the responsible party, do you need me to help you get your state back?" Al didn't mind and even joked with him.
"No need, I have the best way to get it back."
Ryan looked at Nicole, who had just come out of the makeup room. "Human cannonball—launch!"
Whoosh! Ryan shot out like a sprinter. Under the astonished gaze of the crew, he leapt into the air and flew straight into Nicole Kidman's arms.
His momentum was so strong, and Nicole so tall and slender, that she was pushed back several steps before stopping with her back against the wall.
But even in retreat, she didn't stretch out her arms to steady herself. Instead, she tightly hugged the boy in her arms, afraid he might get hurt.
"You two have such a great relationship!" the assistant director praised nearby.
Nicole smiled without saying a word, gently patting the boy's back before placing him onto a high-backed chair.
As filming progressed, the crew gradually came to understand their relationship. While sighing over Ryan's life story, they also admired the deep bond between these two who were not related by blood, but more like siblings than many real siblings.
"That's from physical activity," Nicole defended, facing the doctor played by David Fincher. But the doctor clearly didn't buy it. Seeing the doubt in his eyes, Nicole suddenly waved her hand forcefully. "You think I did this? You think I'm a bad mother?"
After another round of suspicion from the doctor, Nicole finally erupted. What flashed in her mind was Ryan's timid figure looking at her on the Hollywood Walk of Fame, followed by their first meeting, the exhausting lawsuit, and all their moments over the years. All of it rushed to the surface. Her deep affection and fierce protectiveness over Ryan were not something any outsider could question.
"He needs help! Do you understand? He needs help! He is the person I love the most, the most important person to me. I would rather die than hurt him or let anyone hurt him! Anyone!"
Tears streamed down Nicole's face. Though her lines diverged completely from the script, they felt so right, so perfect.
Everyone was stunned by her emotional outburst. When the assistant director, who had taken over the camera from David Fincher, finally snapped out of it and shouted "cut," someone began clapping. Then a thunderous applause erupted that almost lifted the roof.
Everyone was clapping for Nicole's brilliant performance. Only Ryan knew—Nicole wasn't acting at all. She was simply expressing her love for him in the most intense way under provocation.
Even Ryan didn't realize he had walked over to Nicole's side. It was only after he hugged her tightly that he sighed in his heart, "Nicole, with all that you've done for me, how can I ever repay you?"