Chapter 179 – Teaching the Scene

Chapter 179 - Teaching the Scene

In the makeshift room, the camera shot from the doorway, passing through the dimly lit living room to focus on a spot of yellow light emanating from the kitchen. The kitchen door was ajar, and the faint yellow glow illuminated Tang Fei, who portrayed Luo Chun, sitting on a high stool and kneading dough. Each press of her hands into the dough had lost its previous rhythm, becoming chaotic and disordered.

There had been previous shots of Luo Chun kneading dough, with ample lighting that captured the graceful movement of her actions.

But today, darkness occupied about seventy percent of the frame, while the remaining thirty percent was shrouded in a gloominess. The director used this lighting to convey a sense of oppressive emotion.

Luo Chun's strength and speed in kneading increased, and a few times, the dough tore apart. Clearly, her mind was not on the task at hand.

Suddenly, a few drops of water splashed onto the flour beneath the dough, causing it to scatter. The camera slowly zoomed in, then cut to a frontal view of Luo Chun. The dim light took on a slightly yellow hue, revealing silent tears rolling down her face.

After putting up a brave front to comfort her daughter, she could only weep in secret. To her daughter's classmates, she was a crippled mother, but she knew that she needed to be strong for her daughter.

A family couldn't fall apart entirely.

No one is born strong; resilience is forced upon them by circumstance.

Luo Qi was sensitive, as was Luo Chun. Both their lives had been marked by the scrutiny of others' peculiar gazes since birth. Their uniqueness was on full display, whether met with kindness or malice, and even the slightest expression could wound. The situation they faced today was no different.

Tears brimmed in Tang Fei's eyes, but her hands never ceased their work. Her vision was fixed on the dough, her lips pursed tightly. Each blink sent a tear cascading down her cheek.

Luo Chun's beauty lay primarily in her fortitude and tenacity. The director aimed to showcase the inner beauty of her character, not just her physical appearance.

Thus, Tang Fei's makeup was simple, even aging her slightly, transforming her into a mature, rustic farm woman, a mother who had single-handedly raised a child.

Despite this, Tang Fei's striking looks still drew attention. Mi Hai had once worried that it might detract from the role's portrayal.

Tang Fei's face was so distinctive that it somewhat hindered her acting, potentially limiting the range of roles she could play.

Yet, there was a kind of acting called "plastic surgery acting," where one's skills could not only make the unattractive appear beautiful but also tone down an excessively prominent, captivating beauty, making it less overpowering in the scene.

When the performance was exceptional, the audience's focus shifted to the character and the storyline, gradually overlooking her appearance. She became the character, and her beauty was that of the character – be it radiant or unassuming.

Once the viewers emotionally invested in the story, the constraints of her physical attractiveness ceased to matter.

The entire scene, from the full-body shot of her back to the subtle facial expressions, Tang Fei captured in one continuous take without any breaks.

Upon completion, the director leaped to his feet and exclaimed, "Brilliant!"

Only then did Tang Fei release her tensed legs and let out a long sigh. She had prepared extensively for this scene and had smoothly executed most of the regular scenes in the film. However, this was her first time not relying on makeup cards or the system's immersive feeling. She had to find the character's emotions all by herself, which made her slightly anxious. Now that she had successfully pulled it off, she could finally relax.

She had been worried that she wouldn't be able to do it justice, despite rehearsing in front of the mirror dozens of times and refining her performance repeatedly.

Tang Fei ignored Zhou Weichuan's constant praise, assuming he was just a supportive leader who praised everything she did, except for river-jumping rescues and martial arts displays – the boss had never been harsh on those occasions.

Now, she had proven herself, and she realized that when you have a passion for a profession, you naturally discover your talent. The system had shown her the way, and now she could hone her skills independently.

With the experience from Happiness Hotel, Tang Fei had developed a profound understanding of how actors should express themselves on camera, within the interplay of light and shadows. She would consciously adapt her performance to complement the lighting, set design, and camera angles, ensuring her character seamlessly integrated into the overall visual narrative.

Mi Hai was convinced that choosing Tang Fei had been an excellent decision!

She was exceptionally talented!

This made Jiang Xiaoying nervous. She and Tang Fei were to film their scenes separately, and without Tang Fei's guidance, she lacked confidence. When acting alongside Tang Fei, Tang Fei always had a deep understanding of her character, guiding her through their performances, making it easier for her to portray her role.

For some reason, in Jiang Xiaoying's eyes, Tang Fei had become an incredibly seasoned veteran actor.

Someone even more skilled than her grandfather.

In the scene, Jiang Xiaoying, as Luo Qi, was supposed to be crouching in a corner of the living room. She would gaze at her mother, illuminated by the dim light in the kitchen as she busied herself with daily chores. In this moment, her vision and hearing were focused solely on her mother, while everything else faded into nothingness.

The emotions inside her needed to be conveyed entirely through her eyes.

Sure enough, as soon as Jiang Xiaoying felt nervous, she lost her connection to the character, resulting in the director calling cut several times.

Eventually, the director came over to coach her through the scene.

Mi Hai also crouched down in the corner, pointing at the camera. "From Camera 3's angle, you see your mother's back as she works in the kitchen. At this point, you hear nothing but silence. The room is dark, your vision blurry, and all you can see is your mother. For the past dozen years of your life, she has been the only constant.

She has mobility issues and sits on a high stool, yet no matter what happens, you always see her optimistic, energetic, and passionate about life.

You've unconsciously emulated your mother; often saying that you're like her.

Yet your inner strength isn't as formidable as you imagine, and your world is crumbling swiftly. Your resilience is merely an illusion; you emulate your mother, longing to live up to her expectations and make her proud. But you're not like her; you can't achieve it, which is why you now feel defeated and despondent.

But your mother's departing figure clings tightly to the sunny side of your heart. You're reluctant to divert your gaze, yet unsure how to muster the strength to move forward."

Mi Hai explained Luo Qi's inner turmoil and demonstrated to Jiang Xiaoying, "Look into my eyes."

Mi Hai's gaze instantly transformed, revealing a wounded vulnerability mixed with cautious yearning and hope.

"Got it? Have you seen stray cats or dogs? After being abandoned by their previous owners and then adopted anew, they're initially hurt and guarded but desperately crave their new owners without daring to approach.

When you look elsewhere, into the darkness, it's a sign of defense. When you look at Camera Three, you need to convey that longing and cautious anticipation."

"Okay, Director, I'll practice more." Jiang Xiaoying took a deep breath, preparing herself emotionally.

Tang Fei also approached, whispering in Jiang Xiaoying's ear, "Convince yourself that you're Luo Qi. Envision the events leading up to this scene – they all happened, they're real, not just acting. You've been discriminated against by classmates, you're in your adolescence, striving sensitively to be a 'normal' high school student. But the armor you've built to protect yourself, the facade you maintain before your mother – all of it has shattered today.

Embrace this feeling, and you'll do great, I'm sure of it!"

Jiang Xiaoying nodded, closing her eyes to hypnotize and condition herself.

After several minutes, the filming resumed, and Jiang Xiaoying found her groove. Her gaze shifted between timidity and yearning, carefully navigating the dim light. Unlike the shot of Luo Chun, Luo Qi's scene began with a close-up of her eyes, gradually moving to her face before finally settling on the bundled shadow in the darkness.

"Great! Perfect! This is it!"

Mi Hai applauded Jiang Xiaoying, and the crew followed suit, offering their encouragement. Jiang Xiaoying bowed in gratitude.

In the subsequent scenes, Luo Chun vented her emotions through kneading dough. When she turned around to declare that she wouldn't sell bread the next day, catching sight of Jiang Xiaoying huddled in the shadows, the thought that Luo Qi couldn't hear her almost made Luo Chun weep again.

She took a deep breath, pressing her lips together to hold back her tears. Tang Fei's performance tugged at everyone's heartstrings. After washing her hands, Luo Chun switched on the living room lights and knelt down in front of Luo Qi.

Luo Qi threw herself into Luo Chun's arms, "I don't want to go to school anymore."

Unable to hear, Luo Chun didn't respond with words but embraced her tightly, nodding in understanding.

Once Luo Qi finished dinner, Luo Chun wrote on a piece of paper, "We're going back to Wangzhong Village. Leaving here."

A change of environment was needed for Luo Qi to forget what had happened.

Luo Chun had come to a realization. She no longer wished for Luo Qi to be like a normal person; they should embrace their uniqueness instead of burdening Luo Qi with unrealistic expectations.