Movie frenzy

Under the hazy night sky, the contours of the mountains undulated between inky black and deep blue. The warm glow of the streetlights bloomed like a brushstroke, gently brushing away the rich darkness, outlining a serene yet cozy harbor. The tranquility and commotion of the early morning spread like smoke in this warm palette, as if the world's colors had been overturned like a palette of paints, instantly becoming vibrant.

"No, no, this isn't fair." A clear voice, tinged with a coolness, echoed on the rain-dampened street. The damp, deep gray asphalt exuded the crispness and chill of early autumn. Unconsciously, the voice also acquired shades of yellow, red, and green, like the maple leaves covering the mountains. "This is a historical dilemma. You can't just throw this out there in such a straightforward and blunt manner. It's unfair."

"Hehe." Laughter that couldn't be suppressed emerged like an oil lamp on a deep autumn night—dim yet bright, piercing yet warm. The hoarseness in the depths of the throat became rougher due to the permeating night, "Then, let me rephrase the question. Between "The Shawshank Redemption" and "Forrest Gump", which film do you prefer? That's fine. Everyone has their own preferences, and everyone has their habits. You're just expressing your opinion as an audience member."

Rooney didn't answer immediately. Instead, she scrutinized Renly's expression between his brows, but he remained unperturbed, looking back at her calmly and unflinchingly. Rooney couldn't help but grit her teeth in frustration, tore off a piece of bread, and threw it into her mouth. She chewed it fiercely, as if that piece of bread were her sworn enemy.

"Well then, how would you answer the same question?" Rooney refused to give in easily and countered with her own question.

Facing such a tricky historical problem, Renly showed no signs of panic. He took a bite of his sandwich, slowly swallowed it down, and let the tranquility spread between them. The atmosphere seemed somewhat awkward, yet a smug smile tugged at the corner of Rooney's mouth. At that moment, Renly spoke.

"It's simple. Compared to "The Shawshank Redemption", I prefer "In the Name of the Father". And compared to "Forrest Gump", I prefer "Barry Lyndon"."

Renly's answer left Rooney momentarily stupefied, clearly not expecting this response. She pondered over it for a while, but found herself unable to counter or even sensing the logic behind his words. However, Rooney quickly snapped out of it, her eyes widening as she looked at Renly. "Wait, you're being tricky here. According to what you're saying, you mean you don't like either "The Shawshank Redemption" or "Forrest Gump", right?" She almost got tangled in Renly's reasoning and momentarily overlooked the original focus of the question!

Unexpectedly, Renly nodded, confirming, "Yes, I don't like either of them." This caught Rooney off guard, leaving her momentarily unsure of how to respond. "Relatively speaking, I prefer "Pulp Fiction". It's like how I prefer "The Social Network" over "The King's Speech"."

They were discussing one of the greatest controversies in film history, the winner of the Best Picture award at the 67th Academy Awards in 1995—"The Shawshank Redemption", "Forrest Gump", and "Pulp Fiction". Who truly deserved the title of Best Picture?

"Then what about you?" Renly didn't give Rooney a chance to catch her breath and continued to throw questions at her.

Rooney sensed Renly's intention, squinting her pupils slightly. She looked annoyed and regretful as she averted her gaze. However, Renly was evidently unfazed. He had a dignified expression of being taught a lesson, which caused Rooney to grit her silver teeth lightly. Nevertheless, she had no intention of bowing down in defeat. "I prefer "Forrest Gump". I like "Forrest Gump" more," Rooney straightforwardly offered her answer. "Because of the wisdom conveyed by the film, it's worth savoring."

Renly wore a meaningful expression and nodded, making Rooney feel a twinge of uneasiness. "What's that expression for?"

"It's nothing. It's just that I didn't expect your taste to be so mainstream," Renly shrugged casually, saying it lightly. Rooney bit her lower lip, her translucent eyes widening as she stared fixedly at Renly. Her predatory look caused Renly to chuckle, and he gave in to the amusement. He had been in the process of putting the sandwich into his mouth, and he raised both hands in surrender, playfully acknowledging his mistake, "I misspoke. Those who like "The Shawshank Redemption" are the real mainstream. Otherwise, the film wouldn't have gotten the top spot on IMDb, right?"

Even in his apology, his sincere words accompanied by a serious expression emitted a sense of dark British humor. Rooney, however, couldn't hold back and chuckled softly, nodding. "Indeed. But you're quite mainstream too, liking Stanley Kubrick." This master filmmaker is hailed as a genius, with a wide range of works and often veering off the beaten path. Many passionate cinephiles consider him a master among masters. However, because Stanley Kubrick is so famous, even pseudo-fans and pseudo-artistic types use him as a shield, as if just mentioning titles like "A Clockwork Orange" and "2001: A Space Odyssey" makes them seasoned movie aficionados, a perfect icebreaker.

Facing Rooney's attack, Renly nodded calmly. "I can't argue with that." His composed demeanor actually rendered Rooney's mockery ineffective. Rooney choked momentarily, and then also burst into laughter.

The two of them continued walking along the straight street of the small town, resembling a checkerboard. Two pale old men sat on the roadside, each with a bottle of beer in hand and lit joints emitting a pungent smell of marijuana.

Renly initiated a greeting, "The night is so beautiful. After the autumn rain just now, don't you plan to snuggle up under the covers?"

"We're waiting for the 3:30 AM showing of "Never Let Me Go". Aren't you joining?" one of the old men answered loudly. His powerful voice resonated in the street.

"Kazuo Ishiguro isn't my cup of tea," Renly shrugged, responding politely yet firmly, which elicited a light laughter from the two old men. "Young folks, go on with your date. Don't waste such a beautiful night on us old bachelors. Movies are for us, the singles with old bones."

Hearing this, Renly and Rooney exchanged a glance, then burst into laughter together.

Continuing down the street to its end, they reached a vast grassy field. Climbing up the gentle slope, they could see the continuous mountain range at the end, like a colossal guardian of the valley under the dark night.

At this moment, a cluster of campfires had been lit on the grass. The fiery red flames licked the blackness of the night, casting an orange halo around. Around thirty or forty young people sat around, engaged in lively conversations and debates. The noisy clamor diverged from the tranquility of the town, gradually growing animated. Youthful abandon and exuberance burned within this safe haven, releasing boundless energy, presenting the very essence of the Telluride Film Festival.

"Renly! Hey, Renly!" From afar, someone recognized Renly amidst the blurry halo and stood up, shouting aloud. Instantly, everyone turned their heads, and the calls resounded in waves. "Renly, Renly!" The cries echoed intensely. People rushed over, and someone even jogged directly toward them. "Renly, oh, hey, Rooney! You're here too? Come on, come on over. Perfect timing, we're discussing today's film screening. We have some doubts, so you two can help us figure things out. Let's share our thoughts together."

Renly and Rooney were unable to refuse, as a group of people surrounded them and led them to the campfire. "Can someone finally tell me what's going on? Why have I suddenly become so popular?" Renly's teasing remark elicited laughter from the crowd, and someone even whistled. The atmosphere instantly became lively.

"Because you starred in a damn brilliant film?" A comment led to a chorus of agreement from others. "Rooney, "The Social Network" is absolutely amazing, but we'll discuss that later. Right now, we need to teach Renly a lesson."

Rooney gestured invitingly, her eyes gleaming with a eager-to-try expression. "Can someone give me a seat?" The young people immediately loosened their formation, allowing Rooney to sit down. Now, only Renly remained standing, resembling a natural target, as the collective bombardment began.

"Who's behind the abduction of Paul? Radical terrorists or ordinary civilians?"

"What's going on between Paul and his wife?"

"Why did Dan mention Mark White's name? Was he placating Paul? Or does he genuinely not know that Mark is dead? Or is there some conspiracy?"

"Is the recording from CRT legal? Paul is trapped in a coffin, his life in jeopardy. Isn't there any legal provision against their actions?"

"Why was Paul's convoy targeted? Was it simply an intelligence error, or is there something more to it?"

"Why did Paul's phone call sound so chaotic, switching between the FBI and the State Department? It caused the repetition and confusion of information. Is there some hidden meaning behind this?"

"How was the finger-cutting scene filmed? I think your performance was so outstanding, it completely overshadowed James Franco's performance in "127 Hours"!"

...

The questions followed one after another, leaving Renly hardly any breathing space. They came relentlessly, embodying their enthusiasm and eagerness with authenticity. This reminded Renly of Toronto.

In Toronto, people were always impatient to take photos, get autographs, scream, and shout, as if worshiping idols, yet it was more like the clamor of a crowd wanting to join in. "Buried" became the focal point of discussion. They were merely moths drawn to the hot topic. This made Renly feel like a clown.

However, in Telluride, people's conversations always revolved around films, inevitably tied to films. They didn't even see Renly as an actor; they treated him like a fellow student or friend in a discussion class, eagerly sharing their thoughts and viewpoints, eager to debate, share opinions, and exchange ideas.

Looking at the pairs of eyes filled with anticipation before him, Renly finally had a sense of reality: even in Telluride, even on the opening day when "The King's Speech" and "The Social Network" dominated the topic charts, "Buried" still managed to find its place.