Entertainment: Starting as a Succubus, Taking Hollywood by Storm

"Wow, wow, wow, I hear someone singing my praises."

Martin's voice made Leonardo, Spielberg, and Scorsese turn their heads.

To Martin's surprise, Tasya van Ree didn't seem the least bit annoyed by this.

He rubbed his chin, sensing that tonight might bring some unexpected thrills.

By 8:30 p.m., everyone had settled into the theater. The lights dimmed, and the massive screen flickered to life.

At its core, Inception wasn't a typical sci-fi film. It was better described as a "contemporary action sci-fi set within the architecture of consciousness."

In this journey, Cobb and his team faced relentless challenges, while Cobb sought his own redemption.

Fortunately, Cobb was a seasoned dream thief. After countless trials, he finally extracted Saito's secret.

But his wife betrayed Cobb's whereabouts to Saito. At the same time, a teammate's mistake tipped Saito off that his dream was being infiltrated. Led by Cobb, the dream-thief team was forced to flee in a panic, their mission a failure.

Cobb hoped to atone through death, to express his guilt toward his wife.

But why the guilt?

Because his wife's death was, in truth, his doing.

The only way out was to plant an idea in her mind: None of this is real. Suicide would return them to reality.

He succeeded—and yet, he failed.

Though Meire escaped the dream back to reality, she came to believe that reality itself was false, just another dream.

This left her unable to accept reality, clinging instead to an endless longing for that beautiful dreamworld.

Convinced beyond doubt of the planted idea, she chose to end her life again—this time, in reality.

Cobb lost Meire forever, his regret boundless.

Inside the theater, critics were stunned. Martin's editing in Inception broke from his usual linear storytelling, weaving in a tapestry of flashbacks and reverse narratives.

One critic scribbled in their notebook: This tale, dancing between reality and dreams, bursts with groundbreaking artistry, showcasing fresh traits in cinematic language and narrative.

As the film unfolded, Martin's meticulously crafted four-layer dreamworld revealed its mesmerizing allure to the audience.

This was an experience audiences had never encountered. They weren't just watching the film—they were drawn into it, unraveling the dream layers alongside the characters.

So, Cobb assembled a new team and began designing a plan.

To make Fischer believe the dream was reality, their scheme had to feel impossibly real, targeting Fischer's deepest emotional wounds to manipulate him.

Wounds often carry a powerful "emotional cluster." Satisfy that cluster, and you could control the person.

Yang Mi, seeing her character appear onscreen, nervously grabbed Martin's hand.

Martin patted her hand reassuringly. "Don't worry, you did great."

And Yang Mi truly shone. Unlike her original timeline, where overworking led to formulaic performances, her spark was still alive.

In a way, Martin had saved this girl.

The story pressed on.

The film's thrilling "four-layer dream journey" was about to begin.

The team first entered the first dream layer: a rainy cityscape. The dream thieves hijacked a taxi to abduct Fischer, their target.

But Fischer had undergone anti-dream-invasion training in reality, so his dream spawned hordes of armed gunmen attacking the team.

They fled to an abandoned warehouse, finding temporary safety. But during the escape, Saito was shot and gravely wounded, his life hanging by a thread.

Disguised as Fischer's godfather, Meyer, Tom tricked Fischer into believing they'd both been kidnapped. Through casual conversation, the fake godfather tried to extract the safe's combination containing Fischer's will. But Fischer genuinely didn't know the code.

Fischer's dream-world gunmen closed in, forcing the team to break through the siege. The chemist drove, weaving through relentless pursuit, while the other five team members plunged into Fischer's second dream layer.