Hollywood: The Greatest Showman

Chapter 15: Differential Treatment

Bright incandescent lights illuminated the entire corridor, leading straight to the large door at the end; green potted plants adorned the indoor scenery, complementing the white walls, wooden desks, and silver decorations, bringing a hint of coolness amid the sweltering heat of midsummer; the bustling scene filled with people exuded vitality, with a quiet ambiance amidst the noise, indicating that young people embracing the "Hollywood dream" still thrive in today's society, driven by the allure of fame and fortune under the spotlight.

"Hey, George," someone cheerfully greeted Chris and Renly head-on, this being the sixth time on their journey, "It's rumored that J.J. is a difficult director to get along with. Is that true? Does he really arbitrarily scold actors on set?"

This was about J.J. Abrams, who rose to fame with the TV series "Lost" and then directed "Mission: Impossible III" and "Star Trek," becoming a top Hollywood director. Chris played George Kirk, Captain Kirk's father, in "Star Trek," making him quite recognizable among loyal fans.

Chris seemed accustomed to being called "George" and answered with a smile, "No, not at all. J.J. is a witty and humorous guy on set. He's very open to exchanging ideas with actors..." Chris vividly recounted a behind-the-scenes anecdote, and the other person indeed showed a satisfied expression, with admiration evident in their eyes.

"Really?" The other person appeared to be around thirty years old, but his face was still quite unfamiliar. His acting career probably hadn't made much progress. In fact, actors of this type constituted the main part of Hollywood, while the glamorous top stars occupied only a tiny fraction. Actors like Chris, who could play significant roles in blockbuster films, were already worthy of the title "star" in their eyes. "So, when does the next 'Star Trek' start filming? I believe your role in the movie will be pivotal, right?"

"Star Trek" premiered in May this year, receiving praise and box office success, revitalizing the series after years of silence. The filming of the sequel was a certainty. However, there was no further news at the moment.

"The script is still in the works, and our whole crew is waiting," Chris replied with a smile, clearly adept at handling such situations.

Renly stood quietly by, serving as a foil, with no intention of joining the conversation—of course, he also didn't have the qualification to join.

After a while, Chris took the initiative to end the conversation. The other person solemnly introduced himself. This was how Hollywood networking worked—no one knew when an unknown would suddenly become famous overnight. Moreover, Chris was no longer an "unknown."

The other person glanced up and down at Renly as if just noticing him. Renly gave a polite smile, and the other person, who was already prepared to leave, felt somewhat embarrassed upon seeing Renly's calm smile. He nodded awkwardly and then hurried away.

After seeing him off, Chris turned to Renly with a helpless expression. "They always like to hear these anecdotes. Their enthusiasm is really overwhelming."

"This is the nature of the industry, isn't it?" Renly shrugged, sighing. For those outside the circle, they wanted to get in, but for those inside, they wanted to get out.

Chris looked a bit puzzled, not quite understanding the meaning of the statement. However, he didn't intend to inquire further. He nodded vaguely and then strode forward, walking into the New York branch of the American Actors' Guild with Renly.

The middle-aged woman sitting at the front desk looked up, smoothly saying, "Welcome to the American Actors' Guild. Are you here to join the guild or..." Her words trailed off as she saw the two tall figures before her—Chris was even taller than Renly by nearly two inches—and then she flashed a bright smile. "Chris, sweetheart, it's been a long time since you showed up. I thought you got that role in 'Inception'!"

Her overflowing enthusiasm made Chris smile brightly too. He pouted and complained, "No, Joseph Gordon Levitt got that role."

"Oh," the woman sighed regretfully. Her plump body wobbled as she stood up, pinching Chris's handsome cheeks vividly expressing her regret. "I think you're better than him!"

Chris shrugged with pursed lips, then shook his head lightly. "It's okay, missed opportunities are missed opportunities. Besides, I didn't have much faith in that movie anyway. The concept was too complicated." Then, Chris didn't want to dwell on this depressing topic any longer. He turned his head and pointed to Renly beside him. "This is my friend, Renly. He came today to confirm the casting results for a series. What was the name again?" The last sentence was directed at Renly.

The woman finally shifted her gaze. Renly gentlemanly flashed a smile. "'The Pacific.' I was told to come to the guild today to find a public agent and inquire about the specifics."

The middle-aged woman didn't seem too surprised—although this was a series produced by Tom and Steven, there were differences between TV shows and movies. She was quite familiar with such situations. "Name?" Her tone became more businesslike, slightly cooling down the atmosphere. She clumsily returned to her seat, her fingers like fat sausages landing on the keyboard.

"Renly Hall."

She typed away, looking at the screen to confirm the information. "Roy Lockley." Looking up, she continued, "I'm not sure if Roy is here today. Go to the third floor, room 307; that's his office. If he's not there, there will be his business card at the office door. You can take one and contact him."

Chris patted Renly's shoulder. "Do you need me to accompany you upstairs?"

Renly waved his hand. "Aren't you here to check things out? You go ahead, I'll come find you later." Then, he politely nodded to the woman named Lisa as a thank you. Her name tag said "Lisa," and Renly could see a slight stiffening in Lisa's expression, but he didn't pause his steps and turned away directly.

Once again, the voices of Lisa and Chris chatting happily came from behind him, and Renly couldn't help but smile.

For Renly, such differential treatment felt entirely normal. This was the reality of society—fame, power, and money were the basic standards by which people measured social status. People climbed higher, and water flowed lower; there was nothing wrong with it. Even for Renly himself, choosing "The Pacific" as his first audition attempt, he hadn't failed to consider the intentions of the two big-name producers.

Following the guidance of the stairs, he quickly arrived at the third floor. Glancing at the Victorian-style wooden door and stained-glass windows, Renly looked around, trying to confirm whether Roy was present.

Suddenly, the office door opened, and a man appeared in front of him. His hair was slightly disheveled, a set of dark brown suit, wrinkled, a black briefcase hugged in his arms, and the black glasses perched on his nose kept sliding down, making him a bit flustered. "You are..."

"Renly Hall," Renly proactively introduced himself.

"Renly, Renly," the man repeated the name twice, "Oh, it's you!" He looked back and forth, seeming to hesitate whether he should continue going out or deal with Renly's matter.

Renly was about to say he could come back in the afternoon when the man made a decision, pushing open the office door and walking back in. "Come in." Then, he casually placed the briefcase on the table and walked around to the back of the desk. "I'm Roy, the official agent of the American Actors' Guild. Since you don't have an agent, I'll handle the signing of the contract for 'The Pacific.'"

In America, to protect actors' interests and prevent hidden rules, the guild not only sent representatives to monitor the audition process but also dispatched official public agents for actors without agents to sign contracts.

Although hidden rules still existed in the entire film industry, compared to thirty or forty years ago, the entire industry had been regulated, maximizing the protection of individual actors' rights.

Unlike his sloppy appearance, Roy was entirely efficient in handling matters. Renly had just sat down when he accurately retrieved the contract from the small mountain on the desk and placed it in front of Renly.

Glancing at the half-eaten sandwich and the greasy pizza box on the table, Renly looked away, picked up the contract, and heard Roy's explanation, "HBO has stated that you will be the lead actor, appearing in seven episodes, with a salary of twenty thousand dollars per episode. If you have any objections to this figure, we can discuss it further. However, personally, I think this is a very reasonable number, considering this is only your first show."

Renly didn't wait for Roy to continue explaining but directly nodded and interrupted his words, "I have no problem." For Renly, acting and roles were paramount, that was his essence.

His straightforward attitude caught Roy off guard. The salary was crucial for any actor. For newcomers like Renly, they needed the first bucket of gold to make ends meet—yes, the reason was as simple and humble as that. So, Renly's performance truly surprised Roy.

After a pause, adjusting his breath, Roy nodded, "That's a wise decision." After a moment's thought, he added, "This is almost the highest salary a newcomer can get, unless you're Emma Roberts."

Renly smiled modestly and accepted, "I know."

Roy felt somewhat stifled.