The-Greatest-Showman

The next day, the filming of Boom Drummer continued without any hiccups.

By the third day, the shoot was progressing steadily.

The entire crew was working at full speed, without any unexpected issues.

Simmons, the most concerning member of the cast, had not fallen into a slump and quickly recovered. He did not lose himself in the role, nor did he blur the lines between reality and fiction. After a night's rest, he was back to his usual self.

In the end, Simmons wasn't the one leading the difficult scenes; he was more of a passive participant caught in the turmoil. Once he stepped out of the performance environment, he gradually regained his composure. For the crew, this was a good sign, though for Simmons himself, whether this recovery was truly positive or not remained uncertain.

As for Renly, he remained the most stable and dependable member of the crew.

The shooting sequence had been disrupted due to location constraints. Now, the actor had to shift from a manic state back to a more controlled one. For an actor, this was a difficult transition. It's not as simple as rewinding a tape; adjusting one's mindset and controlling emotions takes effort.

However, Renly made it look easy. His control and expressiveness were nothing short of remarkable.

To put it in simple terms for the untrained eye: "Yesterday, he was a self-destructive maniac; today, he's back to being the innocent little deer he was before the madness began." Even without understanding the depth of the character or the intricacies of the performance, anyone could tell the stark contrast between madness and vulnerability.

For any director, having such a top-tier actor is a rare privilege. For a novice director like Damien, it was an even bigger advantage, allowing him to focus more on the technical aspects of filmmaking, like shot composition and planning.

In just two days, the shooting for Boom Drummer was nearing completion. By tea time, there was only one scene left.

This particular scene was unique.

After Andrew and Fletcher's reunion, Fletcher lured Andrew back into the fold, encouraging him to pick up the drums again and join a new band to perform at the JVC Music Festival. This moment marked Andrew's tentative return to life, hoping to rediscover the joy of music, temporarily setting aside his obsession with Buddy Rich and Charlie Parker, and focusing on the pure love he had for drumming.

Before the performance, Andrew hesitated over whether to call Nicole. When he decided he was ready to perform on stage, he dialed her number, inviting her to come to Carnegie Hall to watch him play. Nicole responded that she had to check with her boyfriend.

And that was it.

Andrew suddenly realized the cost of his sacrifices: not only had he given up his dreams and passions, but also his first love, cherished memories, and the pure, unwavering version of himself. Everything had been sacrificed, but he couldn't fully grasp the consequences.

Did he regret it?

He didn't find the answer right away, but during the performance, Fletcher set off a trap he had carefully planted, pushing Andrew into the abyss. This further fueled Andrew's determination and resolve. He completed the "Father Killing" moment, severing all emotional ties and focusing entirely on his drums. In doing so, he experienced an artistic breakthrough and achieved perfection.

The script didn't answer the question: Is it worth it?

To achieve artistic perfection, is it worth pushing musicians to their limits, like Fletcher did? Is it worth sacrificing love and friendship, as Andrew did? Or is it worth torturing oneself, both mentally and physically, as both Fletcher and Andrew did?

The correctness of these views was not the focus of Boom Drummer—Damien wanted to present a state or form of art. Perfection, at least, in one of its forms. Whether people liked it or not didn't matter. What mattered was that it resonated with some.

How people felt about it was for them to judge.

If someone hated Andrew and Fletcher, then Damien had succeeded. After all, he shared the same feelings about his former high school band teacher. If someone admired or relied on them, it meant Damien's idea worked because art often emerges from disaster.

Damien chose this scene as the finale after a joke Simmons made.

"Have you heard? If a movie ends with Renly's eyes as the final shot, then it's a success. Love Crazy, Cancer-Fighting Me, Edge of Tomorrow, Transcendence… all of them. Not long ago, I heard the same thing at the Cannes Film Festival, about Drunken Folk Ballads."

It was supposed to be a joke, but Damien took it seriously.

The final scene of Boom Drummer couldn't be changed; Damien preferred the drum beat Andrew played to ignite the entire jazz band's performance, driving the atmosphere to a crescendo before the screen went black. Yet, the final scene could still be adjusted, so Damien stuck with this choice.

In fact, the entire crew approved of this decision.

The filming was straightforward—just a fixed shot of a single camera, focusing on Renly's face and eyes. No other preparation was required. The director and cameraman simply set up the equipment, and once everything was ready, the crew could sit back and let the magic happen.

All it took was Renly to deliver the performance, and that was enough.

Thus, the final scene was set.

...

The voice on the other end of the phone belonged to Nicole, whose lines were pre-recorded before Melissa Benoist left the crew. They could easily be added in post-production. During the live shooting, the person in charge of the scene with Renly was Rooney, who had come to visit the set at Renly's invitation.

"...Well, I don't know. I have to ask my boyfriend."

Nicole's hesitant voice came through the phone. Andrew stood still, momentarily stunned. His fingers, still wounded, gripped the black phone case, and he could faintly see the blood-stained band-aid. He lowered his eyes to conceal the flash of bitterness and panic, the anxiety, anticipation, and worry, all of it now dimmed.

"...Okay." After a brief pause, Andrew managed to say, "Okay" in a quiet voice, his jaw clenching as he closed his eyes, hiding the confusion within.

Silence.

Andrew lowered his chin slightly, the dim light falling across his face, his long eyelashes casting shadows on his cheeks. His fragility slowly seeped through.

Then, the silence was broken by the voice on the other end, "I'll ask him. But I don't think he's interested in jazz."

Andrew forced a smile, though it was weak. "Yeah, of course, not everyone likes it." His voice cracked slightly, the words muffled, as he tried to smile through the pain, hoping the smile would somehow reach her.

Another long silence followed. This time, Andrew spoke first, "Okay, then… maybe I'll see you there."

"Alright."

"Okay, bye."

With that, the call ended. Andrew's forced smile lingered, though his focus had already shifted. His smile was frozen in place, but the warmth was gone. His emotions turned inward, lost in confusion and sadness.

The smile faded from his face, and his eyes grew heavy with tears, but he blinked to push them away, returning to calm and serenity. He stared ahead, his gaze as still as a calm lake, hiding the turmoil beneath.

From Andrew to Andrew, from Renly to Renly, both had gone through their transformations, embarking on their own journeys of renewal. On the surface, they might appear calm, but deep down, their souls were irreversibly changed.

At the end of his gaze, Chu Jiashu waved goodbye and walked away. When the focus returned, Renly saw Rooney standing by the monitor, ready to speak.