Chapter 378 Like Electricity
In front of the monitor, Steven Spielberg stared at the screen attentively. The soft light fell lightly on Anson's eyelashes, flapping gently like butterfly wings.
A pause, a look back, a lowered gaze, a rest.
It was the reaction in this short moment that gently pulled at the heart, a faint bitterness emerged, and it was complicated that words cannot describe.
At this moment, Steven saw himself, he saw little Frank and he also saw himself——
In fact, they all understand.
Parents think that they are still children and know nothing, but this is not the case. Maybe they are children but it does not mean that they know nothing.
They knew that the storm was coming, and they knew that the family was on the verge of collapse, but they didn’t know what to do. They had never faced such a problem in their short lives, and they had no way to solve it even if they wanted to, so they I can only bury my head like an ostrich, and then carefully maintain normality and pray secretly. As long as I don't expose the facts, the end will not come.
Those bitternesses, those struggles, those fears.
Like fragile butterfly wings, they flapped weakly and stubbornly in the violent wind and rain, and then... bit by bit, they were broken into pieces.
Steven was stunned.
His focus is always on composition, camera movement, lighting, and pictures. He can just leave the performance to the actors. He really has no need to interfere with other people's professions.
But now, in those blue eyes, he saw a crumbling world.
Involuntarily, Steven paused on the spot.
“No, I didn’t think you forgot.”
Little Frank tried to hide his calmness, his panic and embarrassment subsided again, and he continued to turn the pancakes carefully.
Then, Steven noticed an obvious pause in the shot of Christopher -
The scene was not picked up?
How is it possible? It is impossible for an old actor like Christopher to deviate like this.
What's more, Christopher is a typical expressionist actor.
The biggest difference between Expressionists and Methodists is:
Methodists pay attention to "losing control", giving themselves to the characters, and following the characters' own edges and personalities to show the plot. They believe that the characters have vitality, and they themselves If you can breathe and think, you can develop a plot.
Expressionism pays attention to "control". Actors need to completely control the situation and use their own calmness to arrange, plan and present, including the proportion of the performance, and no accidents are allowed. The better the actor, the more precise the control. It can even be so accurate that if there are tears in your eyes, you will never shed tears.
No matter how well Anson performs, Christopher will never lose control. Just look at the stage actors. Even if there is an accident, they will not pause the performance.
Moreover, Anson’s performance was delicate and restrained, without releasing energy violently, and Christopher was not shocked to the point of being stunned——
It's not that exaggerated, really.
So, what happened to Christopher?
The thoughts in Steven's mind just flashed by, because Christopher's pause was very subtle and brief, and then he took action.
Shoulders and steps were slightly stiff. When he spoke again, he raised his voice slightly. The contrast between his voice and body subtly created a sense of rawness -
Guilt. sad. Bitter.
Christopher noticed, and he also noticed the details of Anson's performance, so he immediately responded with a performance, showing the same complicated emotions of old Frank.
Looking back at this moment, the blank space shown by the pause complemented Anson's rest -
They were all aware of the coming storm, and a kind of uneasiness enveloped their hearts. , but in order to maintain family harmony, they both chose to whitewash the peace.
The whole scene is complete like this. "I opened a checking account in your name."
Old Frank raised his voice.
This made little Frank stunned. He was a little shy and embarrassed but still couldn't suppress his happiness. He turned off the gas stove and put down the spoon. He turned to look at his father, but he didn't dare to get close and stood where he was. Standing on tiptoes, he secretly concealed the raised corners of his mouth and muttered inaudible words in a low voice.
Then Frank Sr. took out a stack of checkbooks from his briefcase.
Little Frank took a big step forward, unable to suppress his excitement, and suddenly appeared in front of Old Frank. It was so sudden that Old Frank looked up and at this time he saw The shy but happy smile on his son's face made the corners of his mouth slightly raise.
"I have twenty-five dollars in my account, and you can buy whatever you want."
Little Frank couldn't wait to hold out his hands.
Old Frank was about to hand over the checkbook, but took it back before touching Little Frank's fingertips. He rarely reminded you in a light tone, "Don't tell your mother."
Little Frank nodded obediently, "I won't."
Old Frank then put the checkbook into Little Frank's hand.
Little Frank's heels lifted off the ground and swayed gently up and down like they were stepping on springs. He lowered his head and looked at the blank checkbook. A smile finally climbed to the corner of his mouth, and his eyes and fingertips showed a touch of nostalgia and excitement. It took him a moment to react, and he looked up at Old Frank again.
"Thank you, Dad."
Little Frank's raised arms were a little reserved, but he still hugged his father.
At this moment, the air became completely quiet.
Be it Steven, Christopher, Anson, or the on-site staff, all can feel a subtle warmth, like electricity pulsating at the fingertips——
A connection that belongs to the family, but also between Abagnale and his son, is quietly established in a weird and awkward way.
However, the filming is still not over.
Little Frank let go of his arms, took two steps back, and sat down at the dining table, "Didn't that bank refuse to give you a loan?"
Old Frank did not deny it, with a full face. Frankly, "Yes, they all rejected me."
Little Frank couldn't help but chuckle. He could hear the self-deprecation in his father's words, "Then why are you still opening an account there?"
Frank Sr. patted his son on the shoulder, walked to the gas stove to watch, and continued the work that Frank Jr. had just finished in the middle of, "Because sooner or later you will need a bank to get a loan to buy a house or a car, and they control the money."
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But Frank Sr. heard no response.
As soon as he turned around, Old Frank saw Little Frank opening the checkbook. He couldn't move his eyes away at all, as if he had got a novel toy. He kept looking at it and playing with it, paying special attention to it.
Frank Sr. came behind his son and supported his shoulders, "Here are fifty checks, Junior. This means that starting from today..."
In the script, he is called "Frank" instead of "Junior", but very, very rarely, Christopher, who always values control and precision, changed his lines.
A trivial detail completes the bond between Abagnale and his son.
"...You just joined their little club."
Monthly tickets are doubled. Qimao also asks for a monthly ticket! I wish everyone a happy new year!
(End of this chapter)