Cold Reading, Part 3
Jim Carrey was probably the actor in Hollywood with the greatest disparity between his inner self and his outer persona. To the public, he was a comedian bursting with more energy than anyone else. He could instantly conjure exaggerated expressions and movements reminiscent of characters from early 20th-century cartoons like Tom and Jerry. Yet, every time the audience burst into laughter at his antics, the "melancholy" deep within Jim Carrey grew stronger. It was to overcome this that he had taken up meditation and yoga.
"Whew."
In this way, the longer and more famous a Hollywood actor's career became, the more they tended to retreat into seclusion. There were two main reasons for this. First, they realized that public attention didn't actually do much to help their personal lives. While they were grateful for the love they received, there was no guarantee it would work in their favor. In fact, immense love always came with an equally immense curse attached to it. Second, the higher they climbed, the more they realized they were merely "tools." Just as Renaissance artists relied on the patronage of nobles to continue their creative work, the smarter these actors got, the more they realized that a class system still existed in the world. Consequently, rather than engaging in public activities that only lined the pockets of the modern-day nobility, they chose to stay behind closed doors and focus on their inner selves.
Just as Jim Carrey turned to meditation and yoga, Sion Lee focused on gardening, Elena Asimov on books, Arnold Schwarzenegger on bodybuilding, and Tom Cruise on motorcycles and airplanes—hobbies that allowed them to focus entirely on themselves.
"It feels like they're using those hobbies to release their true inner desires."
Jim said, bracing his core while holding the dead bug pose.
"Hup... is that so?"
Elena, who was doing yoga right next to him, stammered in response. Ever since receiving advice from Arnold, she hadn't neglected her daily workouts. Today, wanting to chat with Jim, she had joined him for a yoga session.
Jim shook his limbs with practiced ease, his voice barely wavering as he spoke.
"Yes. I do yoga because... I want to organize... my inner thoughts."
The intellectually curious Elena read books. Arnold, a lifelong bodybuilder, and Tom, who craved thrilling dopamine rushes, all enjoyed hobbies that projected their desires into reality, integrating them seamlessly into their daily lives.
Hearing this, Elena recalled the advice Arnold had given her during their last shoot: Build up your stamina and muscles. That is your greatest asset. Thinking that it certainly made sense, she let out a soft chuckle. The laugh caused her to lose her core strength, and she collapsed limply out of the pose. Jim, showing his expertise, held his position a bit longer before smoothly returning to his starting posture.
"Whew. Then what do you think is the reason Sion likes gardening so much?"
"Well, what do you think, Elena? Since you two are closer, surely something comes to mind."
"I want to hear your answer first, Jim."
"Hmm..."
Jim pondered for a moment before replying.
"Perhaps he wants to empty his cluttered mind."
The public believed Sion was just a reckless brat who relied solely on his handsome face. In reality, he was a man who operated under meticulous calculation. He merely wore that mask to easily obtain what he wanted.
"So, I suppose there are times when he just wants to rest."
"I agree. He acts like a total kid when he doesn't have to calculate things."
Elena had noticed that this tendency became even more pronounced on days he returned from filming. But that was precisely how she knew: Sion Lee's "acting" was even more intense than his meticulously planned daily life.
"He's underestimated, but he really is a great actor."
"Indeed. Because he's the type to calculate and plan everything so thoroughly, he actually loses out as an actor in some ways."
He was the exact opposite of what people typically imagined as a deeply immersed method actor. Just as he calibrated his public image as a wild brat, Sion approached his acting as if keeping even a single speck of dust on a table in mind. He deceived people the way a skilled magician packages his technique as an illusion.
"Actually, that's what acting is."
Jim remarked that acting and magic shared similarities in that they both involved deceiving someone. He was absolutely right.
"He performs magic not just in his daily life, but on set as well."
Elena smiled, remembering their time filming Fragments of You. And now, he was working alongside Jack Nicholson. She was eager to see how he would hold his own against an actor of a much higher caliber.
As the morning air in Duluth grew colder, the atmosphere on set froze just as sharply. The empty nursing home, chilled by the previous night's frost, had been renovated by the crew into a filming set. Extra actors began to arrive and prepare for their scenes. Amidst the bustling set, while director Robert Benton meticulously checked how the humidity and temperature would translate on screen, the two lead actors finally arrived. Jack Nicholson and Sion Lee. The primary culprits behind the icy tension on set. But do you know what the most surprising part was? It's perfect. The current atmosphere was absolutely ideal for this movie.
Usually, the rhythm of a set was dictated by whoever held the highest status. Typically, that was the director or the star actor, though in the worst-case scenarios, producers would show up and try to micromanage everything. In other words, on this set, Jack Nicholson should have been the one calling the shots. Indeed, during the early stages of filming, everyone had walked on eggshells around him. Jack, like a stubborn old man, wanted things done according to his own condition, and everyone accommodated him, adjusting the schedule to fit his needs. However, a few days after the two lead actors joined, the initiative shifted to Sion Lee. To be precise, it happened after they shot the early scenes where Dan and Bob began living under the same roof and bickering. As "Bob," admitted to the nursing home, gradually sank into helplessness... the dynamic shifted.
"Jack, how are you feeling today?"
"......My back hurts."
"Should I call a masseuse?"
"They'd be a guy. Forget it."
Grumbling under his breath, Jack Nicholson lit a cigarette and checked today's script. Robert, who had been observing the atmosphere from a short distance away, approached Sion, who was reading his script on the opposite side of Jack.
"Sion, did you sleep well last night?"
"......Ah, Director. Yes. I feel good."
As filming progressed, Sion spoke less and less. He grew sharp, looking exactly like a man whose father had actually been diagnosed with Alzheimer's and hospitalized. The heavy, subdued atmosphere on set was born from the intense charisma he radiated as he gripped his emotions tighter. Sion displayed a level of concentration so astonishing that anyone could see it at a glance, leaving Robert, as the director guiding this set, with only one thought: Was he always this kind of actor? Perhaps "this kind of movie" was the perfect fit for him after all.
Soon, filming began in a quiet, orderly fashion. To summarize the scene: Bob, now in the nursing home, mocks Dan just as he always did. It was a scene where emotions cut as cold and sharp as a razor blade.
"Action."
The camera began to capture the two men sitting across from each other. Close-ups of each face, then a wide shot. Bob's expression was indifferent and deeply uncomfortable.
"I would've preferred to kill a man instead."
"......What?"
"Prison would've been a hell of a lot better than being shoved into a place filled with nothing but old geezers like this."
"Stop talking crazy. You're just a worn-out old man yourself."
Meanwhile, though Dan acted rough, he couldn't bring himself to look Bob straight in the eye. He couldn't easily accept the reality that his father, who had always been strong and oppressive, now required his protection.
But Bob, interpreting Dan's behavior as that of a dog with its tail between its legs, tried to project his usual strength. In the end, this movie was a story of two men. A man who could never be a father, and a man who was no longer allowed to be one.
"You must be thrilled now, huh? Shoving your piece-of-shit father into a madhouse. You must be so happy."
"What are you talking about now......"
"Isn't this what you've wanted to do your whole life? Oh, wait, was that playing in a band?"
Instead of answering, Dan fixed a freezing glare on Bob. A son in his early thirties, at the physical peak of his manhood. When he momentarily flashed a murderous intent, Bob flinched. Yet, refusing to admit his fear, Bob kept pushing.
"Otherwise, there's no reason to put a perfectly fine father in a place like this. You resent me, don't you?"
"Cut the crap. That's all in the past."
"Well, at least I get to be happy thanks to you. Since you quit that pathetic band of yours and got a real job, I don't have to end up homeless in my old age. For the first time, I'm actually glad I had a kid."
"......Whew."
In an instant, the atmosphere shifted. Letting out a long sigh, Dan began to control the room. Just like the actual filming set.
"They say your brain is dying."
"......"
"Soon, you're going to forget everything. Who I am. What your wife's name was. What your own name is. Even that petty typewriter you used to pound on. You'll forget all of it. That's your life. Nothing will be left. No one in this world will even remember that you existed."
"Won't it be the same for you?"
"I don't care."
Dan cut him off coldly.
"The moment you die, I'll forget you. Just like you'll forget me."
"......"
"Let's try not to see each other if we can help it."
Dan stood up. Robert watched as Bob's expression, staring at Dan's retreating back, sank into a swamp of utter futility.
"Cut!"
As Robert yelled the command, a shiver running down his spine, Sion and Jack let out long, exhausted sighs into the empty air. The crew watching them couldn't even breathe properly.
Seriously, that was insane acting.
How is this possible? It feels like it's actually happening.
The two lead actors were so completely immersed that even their real-life dynamic seemed to have inverted. In the eyes of the staff watching them, awe and fear coexisted.
The reason life is born and continues to exist is extremely simple: survival and reproduction. To achieve this, humans form packs and establish hierarchies within them. Strong males claim many females, and females seek to mate with the strongest possible males. Keeping that in mind made many things in the world quite simple.
"But you see, Sion, you little bastard..."
Jack Nicholson, thoroughly drunk on Jack Daniel's whiskey, grumbled. They were in the old house in Duluth where they had decided to stay for the duration of the shoot. Jack felt that the worn-out dining table in the room was just like himself.
"Life isn't like that. Humans are needlessly smart. Everything changed when Adam and Eve ate the fruit of knowledge. That's why they started naming things, like a virgin trying to hide her shame. Good and evil were born. Calling sex 'love' is the perfect example of that."
Yet, the older humans got, the more they had to lean on the things they defined as "good."
"Why do you think so many people return to their families when they grow old?"
Because they grow weak. Because they die. Humans weren't designed to be strong enough to endure the fear and anxiety that came with that. And lately, Jack Nicholson was realizing all too clearly that he, too, was only human.
"I have five kids. Sure, I succeeded in survival and reproduction. And yet... through this shoot, I'm realizing there's still an unresolved fear inside me."
"You said something similar when we met before we started filming," Sion recalled the time Jack, who happened to be staying in Duluth at the same time, had visited him. Even then, the two of them had shared different emotions while looking at the same script. In reality, Jack Nicholson was a father of five. But he had never been a good father. He took financial responsibility, but the emotional connection was faint, and he had lived his life believing that was just how things were.
"My own life started out that way. I had no father, and the woman I thought was my mother wasn't actually my mother."
The person he had believed to be his sister was actually his mother, a truth he only discovered after both his biological mother (whom he thought was his sister) and his grandmother (whom he thought was his mother) had passed away. From then on, Jack had paid no mind to the traditional concept of family. He never regretted living his life that way. However...
"If I had lived a normal life and started a family, I think I would have turned out like this man."
Feeling that way as he looked at Bob, Jack Nicholson sank even deeper into his role. That was also why, unlike his usual self, he kept quiet on set. It was like undergoing a psychological counseling session; every time he used method acting to pull out this vulnerable, "ordinary version of himself," an inexplicable loneliness touched his heart. And because his co-star, his "son," was Sion—someone he adored as an actor and felt shared a similar artistic frequency—the feeling cut even deeper.
"Me too, Jack."
On the other hand, Sion also projected himself onto Dan. That figure who failed to achieve his dreams and endlessly ran away felt just like his past self. But there was one difference... in Dan's life, there was a family he could reconcile with, and a friend who had once shared the same dream. Dan would probably never truly achieve his childhood dream. Even so, there was someone who remembered that dream, someone who watched over his life from the sidelines.
If only my life had been like that...
As he analyzed and internalized the character of Dan, Sion felt himself growing not just as an actor, but as a human being.
That wouldn't have been so bad. Just like this set right now.
An actor, not just a handsome Hollywood brat, but Sion Lee. And a father watching over him, standing by his side. Immersed so deeply, the two of them deliberately focused even harder on their roles on set. They knew this film was a work that traced the trajectory of the male species through these two men.
The two men, who countered each other's acting with actions rather than words and focused solely on themselves, would hang out like this after the day's work was done, as if letting off steam. It had been a very long time since Sion had done this kind of deep, heavy acting, and he thought with a pleasant anticipation:
I can seriously aim for it.
With a father supporting him firmly from behind. The Oscars. Even if just to remember and honor this very moment, he felt a burning desire to win it.
"Jack."
"......What."
"If I bring your sons and daughters as a special event when filming wraps, will you cry?"
"You little shit, I will literally kill you. Don't you dare."
"Usually in movies, a father who neglected his family goes to see his kids whom he hasn't met in years when he's on his deathbed after a huge fight."
"Do I look like I'm about to die?! You idiot!"
Jack Nicholson, who had suddenly flared up, cleared his throat lightly and said,
"Besides, you're enough."
"Pardon?"
"I'm saying having one idiot son on set is more than enough."
"............"
Stunned by those words, Sion opened his arms wide and yelled,
"Give me a hug!"
"Huh? ......Oh, for Christ's sake. I have a medical condition where I break out in hives if another guy touches me—hey, you little bastard?!"
At times like this, Sion listened to absolutely no one.