**Chapter 137: Humbly Seeking Advice**

All along, the atmosphere on the set of *The Princess Diaries* had been light and joyful. The filming was progressing slightly ahead of schedule, and everyone maintained a good mood despite the work. However, after Julie Andrews joined the crew, the entire atmosphere became even more cheerful, radiating happiness.

Anne was acutely aware that this was her opportunity. Not only was she playing the lead role in a film, but she also had the chance to observe a legend up close and learn from her experience, which could become the nourishment for her own growth. She had a hundred reasons to focus all her attention and give it her all.

Julie had taken a particular liking to Anne. After working together three or four times, Julie could sense Anne's eagerness to learn. Though nervous, inexperienced, and uncertain, Anne was always absorbing knowledge. She was able to make adjustments after being given direction, truly listening, digesting the advice, and growing on her own.

This was extremely rare.

Julie generously shared her experience, like a treasure trove of knowledge, offering Anne tips on details to help her better convey the character's emotions and achieve the humorous effect that Garry wanted to see.

After all, *The Princess Diaries* was a comedy. If it didn't make the audience laugh, how could it be considered a comedy?

Anne was continuously learning.

"Whew."

Anne exhaled a long breath, glanced at Anson, and playfully widened her eyes, making a small goofy face. "Wish me luck, I'm ready to go on."

Today's scene was no easy task.

It was pure comedy, even requiring some silliness. If it fell short, it wouldn't be funny; if it was overdone, it would be clownish. They needed to strike the right balance.

That was the hardest part.

Anson gave Anne a playful fist pump and flashed a big smile. "No need to be nervous. Just use a third of your funny-face competition skills, and you'll be fine. I believe in you."

"Haha. Ha. Ha." Anne forced a laugh, then turned and walked toward the spotlight. Her tense shoulders showed that nervousness was unavoidable.

In a way, Anson was even more excited than Anne.

Another opportunity to observe and learn had arrived.

Today, he had the chance to watch Julie perform comedy up close, to see how she elegantly balanced humor without resorting to cheap laughs, how she skillfully incorporated humor while avoiding the trap of being overly exaggerated or greasy. Opportunities like this didn't come every day.

Generally, when watching a performance, it's the lines that capture attention—because the sound grabs your ears, and the dialogue reflects the content. When viewers evaluate a performance, the actors' delivery of lines is often mentioned.

Indeed, the silent film era is a very distant memory.

Anson was no exception; however, when he watched Julie's performances, what captivated him—both his eyes and ears—was not the dialogue.

In earlier scenes, Anson thought this was because *The Princess Diaries* had a more natural, everyday tone in its dialogue, without those over-the-top dramatic effects. The actors' performances needed to be more natural and light.

—Conveying the everyday tone of dialogue was itself a challenge.

So, Anson had been observing how Julie handled those lines. But today, he finally realized that the key was not in the dialogue, but in her posture: her stance, her sitting position, her gestures—all her body language.

But why?

Watching with his eyes and feeling with his heart, Anson could truly taste the essence of the performance. Yet, when it came to putting it into words, he couldn't find the right vocabulary.

It was a sensation that was indescribable yet very real.

Something truly special.

In the movie, there is a scene where the main character, Mia, stands with the stylist responsible for her makeover in front of three full-length mirrors, assessing where the transformation should begin.

The stylist, in an exaggerated and almost alarmed manner, creates a sense of shock and fear, highlighting the difficulty of the makeover. This not only adds comedic effect but also builds audience anticipation for the outcome of the transformation.

And what about the queen, played by Julie?

In this scene, she plays a supporting role. She stands beside the mirror with her assistant, listening to the stylist's suggestions. Then, the queen takes a confidentiality agreement from her assistant, hoping the stylist will sign it and adhere to it.

Here's the key moment—

Before the queen speaks, she stands quietly beside Mia, observing her. Despite the fact that there are five people in the shot, including the stylist and assistant, and the focus is on Mia, Anson couldn't take his eyes off the queen.

No dialogue, no actions, not the focal point.

Julie simply stands there elegantly, her hands resting one over the other at her abdomen, quietly watching Mia. Her gaze reveals a hint of concern, though carefully restrained, as if she wants to get closer but is unsure how. There's a fragility, along with a sense of exploration and hope, as if she's searching for traces of her son in Mia.

It's actually quite complex to describe, but in reality, it's just a fleeting moment—less than half a second. Yet, it's this half-second that firmly captures attention.

At first, Anson thought it was Julie's gaze, but then he realized it was more than that. Her posture, her expression, the emotions radiating from her entire being made the scene different. She wasn't actively trying to do anything; she was simply present, allowing the audience to interpret her feelings.

Anson found it fascinating and couldn't help but want to replay the moment—

Of course, he couldn't.

This was a film set, not a short video clip.

But even so, Anson couldn't stop reflecting on it. In the shot, there were five people. The dialogue came from the stylist, the focus was on Anne, yet Julie, saying nothing, still drew the camera's attention.

Why was that?

It was a subtle, unique feeling. Anson had never noticed it before, but now that he was an actor, watching these moments brought new insights, as if a whole new world was unfolding before him.

So, what exactly was happening?

Not afraid to ask when he didn't understand, Anson approached Julie and Anne when the day's filming reached a pause at midday. He patiently looked for an opening to join their conversation.

"Hey, Anson."

Julie noticed Anson approaching, turned to him, and smiled in greeting.

Anson flashed a bright, toothy grin. "Ms. Andrews."

Julie was amused by the formal address. Despite having had surgery on her throat and no longer singing as much, she could still speak comfortably in her day-to-day life, though she needed to protect her voice. Her expression softened completely. "Calling me 'Ms.'—does that mean you have something to ask?"

Anson replied earnestly, "Even if I didn't have anything to ask, it would still be the same. After all, we were taught from a young age to use proper titles."

This was... a joke.

In *Mary Poppins* and *The Sound of Music*, Julie played characters who were responsible for teaching children, so in the eyes of the audience, she had long embodied the image of a "governess," a figure deserving of respect.

Julie immediately picked up on the subtext in Anson's words and let out a light laugh, turning to Anne. "No wonder Anne says you're the mood-maker on set."

Anson spread his hands with an innocent expression, "Seems like my efforts are working."

Julie's eyes gleamed with amusement. "Alright then, what's your question? I'm ready."

With permission granted, Anson didn't hesitate and quickly shared his thoughts.