1086-1090

*Chapter 1086: Honest Advice is Hard to Hear*

The café remained noisy and bustling. Edgar lowered his voice slightly, his expression serious. Despite still catching his breath, the intensity in his eyes made it clear he wasn’t joking.

"Anson, this project—they’ve been working on it since 1993. James Keach started developing it back then. It was originally supposed to be a TV series, but because the script was so bad, they condensed it into a single episode."

"Unfortunately, even that episode flopped—it didn’t make any impact."

"At the time, Johnny Cash and June Carter were still alive. They always wanted to push the project forward, with James Keach as the producer. But it never gained any traction."

"I’m not sure if you know this, but there’s an unspoken rule in Hollywood."

"Don’t make biopics while the person is still alive."

"It’s not that it never happens, but they try to avoid it. Things can get complicated."

"Very few people are willing to objectively dissect their entire life—successes and failures alike, let alone allow a film crew to nitpick their every move."

"Usually, it ends up being a flattering portrayal of the person, and the movie turns into some boring hero story. Not everyone has the guts like Frank Abagnale to let the crew take creative liberties with their life story."

"Besides, Johnny Cash himself was the one pushing for this film. I haven’t read the script, but I doubt he’s planning to air all his dirty laundry for the audience to see, right?"

Anson suddenly understood.

A prime example of this is The Social Network, the movie about the creation of Facebook, adapted from the autobiography of Mark Zuckerberg’s co-founder.

After the movie came out, Mark Zuckerberg filed a lawsuit against the production, demanding the film be pulled from theaters.

This controversy gave Harvey Weinstein the perfect opportunity to stir things up, ultimately leading to The Social Network being overlooked at the Oscars in favor of The King's Speech, one of the biggest PR upsets in recent Academy history.

The Social Network is a rare exception in the biopic genre. It doesn’t shy away from portraying the good and the bad, showing its characters in a raw, unflattering light, which infuriated almost everyone involved—except the author of the source material.

No one likes to be publicly scrutinized and criticized. No one.

That’s why, although Hollywood loves biopics, most are made about people who have already passed away.

Anson nodded. "I haven’t seen the script either, but they just told me they don’t want to shy away from the darker aspects of Johnny Cash’s life. In fact, they want to focus on how those struggles influenced his music."

Edgar raised an eyebrow. "Really?"

Anson nodded again, confirming.

Edgar frowned slightly. "If that’s the case, it’s not impossible. At least they’re brave enough to confront the scars. But..."

Edgar paused to think, and Anson waited patiently. He knew Edgar’s reluctance had to be about more than just an unwritten Hollywood rule.

Edgar continued, "There’s another possibility. The film might try to romanticize Johnny Cash and June Carter’s relationship."

"Did you know that when Johnny and June met, they were both married? June’s husband, Edwin Nix, was even one of Johnny’s friends."

"I’m not here to judge their marriages, and sometimes people get trapped in unhappy relationships. Splitting up might be the best thing for both parties. But the truth is, their relationship began before their marriages had officially ended, which caused a lot of controversy."

Anson was surprised. "Why? I thought people in Hollywood were used to this—getting married, divorced, then remarried. If you haven’t been married at least twice, you’re hardly considered part of Hollywood."

Edgar replied, "They were devout Christians."

Anson suddenly understood.

Edgar continued, "So, maybe the film’s goal isn’t to glorify Johnny, but to romanticize their love story. June Carter’s love is depicted as a lifeline that saved Johnny Cash. Their meeting is portrayed as destiny."

Anson raised his chin slightly, a subtle smirk on his lips. "So, that’s a bad thing?"

Edgar sighed. "I don’t know. Maybe it won’t be an issue, or maybe it’ll be a complete disaster. This biopic was a passion project for both Johnny Cash and June Carter. They were determined to see it made, which is why I have my suspicions."

"The point is, the entire Hollywood industry thinks this is a bad idea."

"From 1993 until now—over a decade—more than 30 production companies have turned this project down."

Anson didn’t hide his surprise.

Edgar nodded lightly. "Even though I haven’t read the script or the project outline, I think that fact alone tells us something."

"And that includes big studios—Warner Bros., Universal, Paramount—as well as smaller, indie production companies known for making artistic films."

"My guess? They’re too eager to romanticize their love. They’ve taken the best, happiest parts of their memories and written it into a script."

"To them, it’s a deeply romantic story—an upbeat woman rescuing a lost soul. It’s like the ultimate love story. But to others, it might look very different."

Anson wasn’t surprised. "People always say to trust your memories, but the truth is, we edit our memories. Some people erase the pain and darkness, while others exaggerate their scars. Some only hold onto the romantic moments, and others conveniently forget their own mistakes."

"In the end, we’re all just trying to save ourselves. It’s like a survival mechanism—altering memories so we can move on."

"So, the same event might look completely different depending on who’s remembering it."

Edgar snapped his fingers.

"Exactly. That’s why biopics rarely show the full truth—they only show one side of the story."

"When the person is still alive, it’s hard to escape the bias of the first-person perspective. This can turn the film into a self-indulgent disaster."

"Think about it—Johnny Cash and June Carter are two of the biggest stars in the history of American country music. At his peak, Johnny Cash’s albums were outselling The Beatles, and he stayed relevant into the ’90s. And yet, over 30 production companies didn’t want to make a movie about him?"

"For years, James Keach has been running around trying to get this movie made..."

Anson interrupted, "Wait, who’s James Keach?"

After all this back and forth, Anson still had no idea who Keach was.

Keach: ...

*Chapter 1087: Hidden Intentions*

"Who is James Kitchell?"

Anson’s question caught Edgar off guard for a moment. Then, without any sarcasm, he answered directly.

"An actor from the lower ranks."

"He's appeared in a few projects, tried his hand at directing, and even producing, but so far, nothing worth mentioning has come out of it."

"Some people, despite not being very talented, are obsessed with fame and fortune. They do everything in their power to break into the scene. No matter how many times they fail, they refuse to give up. Lacking talent but refusing to admit it, they spend their whole lives circling around Hollywood."

"James Kitchell is one of those."

Anson suddenly understood. "A Don Quixote."

Edgar was surprised. "Not as romantic, but yes, that’s the idea."

"In Hollywood, they’re like parasites, constantly wandering without gaining any real status. But to those outside Hollywood who look up to it, these people boast endlessly—claiming they had dinner with a superstar last night or chatted casually with another the night before."

"Even though we all know it's a lie, they might’ve just been at the same party, never even crossing paths."

"Hollywood has tons of people like that."

"And honestly, they know this better than anyone. They hate it, probably more than anyone else. That's why Kitchell is so desperate for this Johnny Cash project to take off."

"If it succeeds, he could leap into success and completely change his fate."

Edgar was calm—neither disgusted nor condescending.

To outsiders, these people might seem pitiful. But they’re like oxpeckers on a rhino’s back, playing a necessary part in the whole Hollywood ecosystem.

In fact, out of the 400 movies released every year, at least 50 are driven to completion by these “oxpeckers,” connecting the dots behind the scenes.

"Maybe this is Kitchell's last chance, possibly his only chance."

"He’s trying really, really hard. But still, no studio was interested. That’s when James Mangold stepped in."

"I'm not sure about the details—I just skimmed over them—so I can’t say if it was 1999 or 2000, maybe even 2001. But before that, Mangold had already been circling Johnny Cash. He was really interested in the project and wanted to be a part of it."

"But Kitchell kept refusing."

"It wasn’t until he hit a dead end that he finally, reluctantly, approached Mangold."

Anson lifted his chin slightly. "I’m guessing it was 2000."

Girl, Interrupted was released in 1999, and the next year it received an Oscar nomination for Best Supporting Actress. But more than the Oscar nomination, the important part was Mangold's influence.

Mangold was able to convince Winona Ryder and Angelina Jolie to join Girl, Interrupted and persuade a studio to invest, even though the project was risky and experimental.

That’s what Kitchell lacked—he needed Mangold.

Edgar nodded in agreement. "It must’ve been. In any case, Mangold finally got what he wanted and became part of the project."

"But even with Mangold on board, it wasn’t smooth sailing. They spent another two years trying to find a studio. Eventually, they convinced Sony Columbia to join in."

"That’s not surprising. Girl, Interrupted was funded by Sony Columbia, and Mangold has friends there."

"But I suspect that Sony Columbia's decision to get involved had something to do with June Carter’s death."

Anson’s eyes widened.

Edgar confirmed, "Yes. She passed away this April."

"So, Sony Columbia thought they could make some changes to the script. And just last month, Johnny Cash passed away too."

"This means the only person still sticking to the original script is Kitchell. Sony Columbia can easily take control of the project."

A lot had changed in just a few months—lives coming and going, and suddenly, this movie project had new life.

Now, thinking back to Kitchell and Mangold’s reactions, those odd little details started to make sense.

Edgar added, "But I still have my doubts. I don’t think this is a good project. And I suspect their motives aren’t pure."

"They might just be using you to push Sony Columbia into giving them a bigger budget."

Anson replied, "Isn’t that a good thing? It means I’ve reached the point where I can be used as leverage."

Edgar conceded, "Of course, you have that kind of pull now. Just your name could probably get a studio to invest. But that’s exactly why your credibility is at stake."

"If a studio invests because of you, and it fails, it only takes one or two times before those old foxes back off again."

"And while I don’t mind producers using your name, because it helps expand your influence, the issue lies with this project."

"If it’s doomed to fail, and they use your name to secure funding, Kitchell might get a fleeting moment of glory for a career that doesn’t even really exist. But you could end up dragged down by this mess."

"Also..."

Edgar took a deep breath.

"Our relationship with Sony Columbia is fragile right now. Even if you don’t want to get involved in their internal power struggles, you don’t have a choice."

"Next, if Spider-Man 2 performs well at the box office, we can completely turn the tables. But what if it fails?"

"And there are still at least eight months before the movie comes out. Until then, every interaction we have with Sony Columbia could lead to all kinds of possibilities. We need to tread carefully."

"Kitchell might just want to use you as a pawn, but we have to face the risks."

"We’re not Mother Teresa."

Anson burst into laughter.

Edgar sighed. "You still have the energy to laugh?"

Anson grinned. "What, should I cry instead?"

His casual demeanor left Edgar speechless.

Anson continued, "Anyway, I haven’t promised anything yet. Let’s see the script first."

Edgar was startled. "Anson, you’re still planning to read the script?"

Anson nodded. "Of course."

Edgar couldn’t hide his frustration.

Anson gestured for Edgar to calm down. "Captain, I understand your concerns."

"But as you said, you’ve never read the script. You don’t even know what the story is about or its quality. Being rejected by thirty studios doesn’t mean it’s terrible. It just means it doesn’t align with mainstream tastes. It could be terrible, or it could be groundbreaking."

Edgar tilted his head. "I’m skeptical."

Anson laughed. "Me too."

"I don’t really believe the script will be anything amazing, but at the very least, we should give it a chance before making a decision, right?"

"That’s a matter of respect—for them, and for us."

Chapter 1088: Blossoming Outside the Wall

"At the very least, we should give the script a chance." That was Anson's thought.

However, as a manager, Edgar had a completely different perspective. "That's exactly their goal. They bypassed the agent and sneaked directly to you to persuade you to give the script a shot."

Anson replied, "You have to admire their courage and persistence, don't you? They've stuck to this project for a full ten years. I know it could be terrible, but to refuse to give up for ten years is admirable. After all, we're not immortal beings who don't need to eat or drink. Ten years is no simple feat."

Edgar remained noncommittal; he wasn't easily swayed by things like this.

Anson continued, "Captain, maybe you should look at it from a different angle."

"We've always been looking for a breakthrough—not necessarily a transformation, but a chance to break away from the typecasting as a mere pretty face. This is an opportunity to show my capabilities as an actor..."

Edgar furrowed his brow. "I don't think this is the right opportunity."

Anson laughed out loud. "But it's the first one to come knocking."

"It's a biographical film, and they're considering Joaquin Phoenix and me. Actually, they're not entirely convinced by my acting. They're more interested in my musical talent, but either way, they don't see me as just a pretty face."

"I think it's an opportunity."

Seeing Edgar was about to speak, Anson raised his hand to stop him.

"When I say opportunity, I mean opening the doors to Hollywood. You could let it slip out that I'm reading the script and seriously considering the role. You know what that means."

Edgar, being the professional manager, immediately grasped the implication.

On one hand, it signals that Anson is willing to challenge different types of roles.

On the other hand, it suggests that not only are commercial films considering Anson, but Hollywood also sees greater potential in him, especially after the success of "Elephant" at the Cannes Film Festival.

The most crucial point is that some people might see this ten-year-old biopic project, rejected for so long, as a desperate move to approach Anson. It wouldn't prove anything, so there's no need for a big announcement. But others might see it as a sign of Anson's broad-mindedness—he's open to any project regardless of its state, embracing all possibilities.

Opportunities often hide within such moments.

Edgar squinted slightly, his mind working quickly.

Anson wasn’t in a hurry, patiently watching Edgar, giving him time to process everything. His calmness and confidence were convincing.

Edgar remained silent, and then Anson slowly continued.

"As for Sony Columbia, I'm not too worried."

"Business is business. A project is just a project."

"'Spider-Man' made waves because of its sheer scale—investment, size, strategic value—it all made a difference. Other projects wouldn't carry the same weight."

"The higher-ups are battling like whales. The Johnny Cash biopic may not even be on their radar."

"Besides, even if it does get caught up in all that, it's part of Hollywood's power games."

"Look, we've already had one confrontation with Sony Columbia. Half of Hollywood saw it. It means that any future collaboration with any studio might be more complicated."

"I'm not saying we should charge head-on and challenge all of Hollywood, but we don't need to panic or overreact."

"Right?"

His words flowed easily, calm and steady, without any dramatic emphasis, but the quiet confidence in his tone made it all the more persuasive.

Edgar blinked and looked at Anson again. "Are you trying to con me?"

Anson burst out laughing. "A little, a little. I just don't want to dismiss their sincerity. At the very least, we should give the script a chance. As for the rest, that's just a bonus."

Edgar sighed, somewhat resigned, but calmed down to think carefully.

"Alright, let's look at the script first."

Meanwhile, he'd use this time to investigate further, to find out what was really going on with this project. Why hadn't it moved forward in ten years?

Taking a deep breath, Edgar looked at Anson. "I'll read it first, but no matter what, I trust your judgment."

Anson waved his hand lightly. "Relax, relax. What actor hasn't starred in a dud or two?"

...

Is Anson really that kind-hearted?

Of course not.

If he opened the door to any random director and producer, then he wouldn’t have time for anything else over the next few months. His villa would be filled with scripts, and even after reading through them all, he still wouldn't be able to meet everyone’s expectations.

Eventually, those people would start to complain and criticize Anson for being fake and cold-hearted.

Kindness is a valuable trait, but without boundaries, it can become a weapon others use to harm you.

Anson understood that all too well.

The real reason Anson was willing to give James and James a chance was because of:

James Mangold.

Or, to put it another way, the film James Mangold was directing: Walk the Line.

After some conversation and reflection, Anson finally remembered which project the two Jameses were discussing with him.

Walk the Line.

A biopic about Johnny Cash, focusing on his love story with June Carter.

So, how should one describe this movie?

In a previous life, the movie starred Joaquin Phoenix and Reese Witherspoon.

Although the storytelling was chaotic, with the film entirely centered around Johnny Cash and relegating all other characters to mere props, Mangold's direction still effectively captured the internal struggles and performances of the characters.

Both Joaquin and Reese gained significant recognition during the awards season, with Reese eventually winning her first—and only—Academy Award for Best Actress.

However, for a long time, Reese, like Gwyneth Paltrow with Shakespeare in Love, was criticized for lacking depth as an actress.

Because of this, Walk the Line later became known less for its artistic merits and more as the film that earned Reese Witherspoon a "shallow" Oscar.

Anson didn’t agree with this assessment at all.

*Chapter 1089: Focus on the Actors*

Is Anson of the opinion that Walk the Line is a classic masterpiece?

No, he doesn’t think so. But he believes the movie is still worth watching.

"Walk the Line" can be interpreted as "moving forward," showing how Johnny Cash, with the help of June Carter, pulls himself out of darkness and regains control of his life. Alternatively, it can also symbolize the precarious tightrope walk of Johnny Cash’s struggle between the shadows of his family and the whirlwind of fame, ultimately finding redemption.

Unfortunately, the translated title fails to capture the deeper meaning behind the original words.

The film has big ambitions, but the narrative feels a bit scattered. As Edgar pointed out, because the script was written while Johnny Cash was still alive, it tends to focus too much on his personal redemption, which made it difficult for the director to unify the story's fragmented elements.

A truly great biographical film often centers on one key theme, whether it be a person, an era, human struggle, or philosophical reflection, building the character around that core. Otherwise, trying to tell the sweeping story of a person's entire life in a single film is simply too difficult.

Walk the Line has a solid core, but the script drags it down.

Even so, Anson still thinks the film is worth watching for two reasons:

First, the music.

As both Jameses mentioned, they wanted the movie to showcase how Johnny Cash transformed his chaotic life into musical inspiration. In this regard, Mangold nailed it.

Mangold insisted that the actors perform all the songs themselves. In the past, Joaquin Phoenix and Reese Witherspoon both underwent professional vocal training. While lip-syncing is common in Hollywood biopics, they performed all the songs themselves in the film.

These musical performances are what give the movie its soul.

Second, the performances.

Both actors have their strengths, but Anson believes Reese Witherspoon outshines Joaquin Phoenix.

Joaquin is undoubtedly an excellent actor, excelling at emotional outbursts and deep character insights, making him truly stand out. However, when it comes to establishing emotional context and a solid performance framework, he falls a bit short. Not bad, but not extraordinary either. That’s why many of Joaquin’s most memorable roles tend to involve emotionally charged or explosive characters—like in The Master, Gladiator, or Joker.

In Walk the Line, Joaquin portrays Johnny Cash’s struggle with darkness exceptionally well. You can even see the early traces of his later performance in Joker, where he walks a fine line between control and chaos. However, his musical performances… are just passable.

It’s clear he tried his best, but his understanding of musical emotional depth and his control over live performances never quite hit the mark.

Reese, on the other hand, provides a nice contrast.

Throughout the movie, Reese’s portrayal of June Carter lacks the emotionally explosive scenes typical of an "acting showcase." Instead, she brings a light, warm presence to Johnny Cash’s life, much like a ray of sunshine.

Reese’s lighthearted, lively performance breathes life into the character. Her acting might seem simple and effortless—hence the criticism of her as being a "lightweight" actress—but in reality, she expertly balances the performance. Too little, and it lacks impact; too much, and it would come off as overdone.

For an immediate comparison, look at Glee or High School Musical. The performances in those shows often feel like over-the-top, hyper-stylized versions of reality, almost like "fake enthusiasm." In contrast, Reese’s performance in Walk the Line is perfectly measured, making it all the more impressive.

What really stands out about Reese, though, is her singing. She brings a commanding presence to her musical performances, showcasing her talent, control, and rare musical gifts.

The musical highlights should belong to Johnny Cash in the film, but Reese’s portrayal of June Carter steals the show with star power.

Without comparison, Joaquin’s effort wouldn’t seem lacking.

Of course, this isn’t to say Joaquin did poorly—just that it’s a matter of refining excellence.

Unfortunately, most general audiences tend to judge acting based on emotional intensity.

A simple example: If someone can cry on cue within 30 seconds, people often applaud that as a sign of great acting. While actors who need eye drops for tears deserve some criticism, being able to cry on demand isn’t necessarily a mark of skillful acting.

Reese’s ability to embody a character with such understated charm and subtlety is perhaps even harder to achieve.

What’s important is that Mangold, coming from a screenwriting background, demonstrates his sensitivity as a director. Previously, he expressed characters' nuances and complexities through words. Now, he does it through his camera and his actors, knowing how to capture the emotions actors bring to their performances.

He did this masterfully in Logan as well. Even though it’s a superhero movie, Mangold managed to convey the loneliness and melancholy of an aging hero, akin to a Western.

Mangold may not be a director blessed with extraordinary talent, as he has never been nominated for major directing awards. But he is undoubtedly a director who respects, cares for, and knows how to draw out the best from actors.

In that sense, Mangold and Kitcher at least grasped the heart of the movie. Their judgment was sound, and their vision was clear: musical performances are the soul of the film. That’s why, after much consideration, they sought out Anson—even after meeting with Joaquin.

At least in that regard, they were honest.

As an audience member, Anson might not be wildly enthusiastic about Walk the Line, but he would still recommend it to friends.

As an actor, however, Anson views Walk the Line as a challenge.

On further reflection, this might be Anson’s best chance to break free from the "pretty face" stereotype. The film’s core focus is on musical performance, which is somewhat related to acting but also distinct, offering Anson a new angle to dive deep into the character.

After all, none of Anson’s previous roles truly allowed him to delve deeply into a character’s performance.

In Catch Me If You Can and The Butterfly Effect, the films’ commercial elements took precedence, giving Anson only a few scenes to showcase his acting skills without the opportunity to build a solid character framework.

Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind offered more room for character exploration, but Charlie Kaufman’s script cast such a long shadow over the film that it consumed much of the actors' space to create their own performances.

In Walk the Line, the script is somewhat fragmented and flawed, with much of the focus on Johnny Cash. Yet, the lack of a clearly defined character framework might be an opportunity in disguise—similar to how Reese Witherspoon carved out her own space within the film.

This script gives actors the space to develop and refine their performances.

That’s why Anson told Edgar he saw this as an opportunity:

He was serious.

Chapter 1090: A Deliberate Choice

Anson was serious.

"Walk the Line" might be an opportunity—a chance to break through, a risky challenge, a chance to reinterpret Joaquin Phoenix’s performance.

It was a bit exciting.

However, Anson wasn't in a rush.

Most of his memories of watching the movie in his previous life had faded, and there’s a significant difference between a viewer's perspective and an actor’s perspective. He knew he needed to read the script first.

Also, if Anson decided to take on the role, his first task would be to erase the imprint of Joaquin Phoenix’s performance and rebuild the character from his own understanding, creating a new interpretation and performance framework unique to himself.

Reading the script was essential.

From this perspective, Anson's lack of familiarity with Johnny Cash and June Carter, and not having preconceived notions about their music, was an advantage.

It meant Anson could start from scratch and shape the character purely from the script.

Eventually, the script found its way into Anson’s hands.

Edgar was still worried.

On one hand, he understood why the project had been stalled for over ten years: disorganized, bloated, and self-indulgent, with little difference from what was expected. Plus, the insistence from the likes of [James] Mangold and [Cameron] Crowe that the actors must sing their own parts wasn’t a popular stance in Hollywood.

Sony Columbia finally green-lighted it, and Edgar thought June Carter's death played a bigger role in that decision than Mangold’s personal appeal.

On the other hand, he couldn’t deny that this was a breakthrough opportunity, specifically for Anson. Both Anson’s musical ability and the space the role offered for interpretation clearly opened a door for him.

Though "Catch Me If You Can," "Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind," and "Elephant" weren’t typical genre films, they also weren’t standard awards-season fare.

But a biopic was different. It was a classic awards-season film. If Anson took the role, it would signal that he was serious about entering the Academy's world, showing his dedication to shedding the "pretty face" label and taking a solid first step toward proving himself.

As for whether he would succeed or how the results would turn out, only time would tell.

At this moment, some might ask: if Anson was ready to take on a biopic, an awards-season film, wasn’t there a better choice?

Of course Edgar had considered that, but it wasn’t that simple.

In the past couple of years, Hollywood has seen an explosion of biopics.

Films like The Hours, The Pianist, Frida, Seabiscuit, Catch Me If You Can, A Beautiful Mind, Ali, and The Road to Perdition, among others.

And countless others were either in development or already being filmed: The Aviator, Capote, Good Night, and Good Luck, Munich, Cinderella Man, North Country, Finding Neverland, Being Julia, Hotel Rwanda, The Motorcycle Diaries, and more.

The options were overwhelming.

But the key issue was, first, suitability.

For example, Ray, which focuses on the legendary Ray Charles, was clearly not suitable for Anson as Ray Charles was Black.

Additionally, Anson was still young—under twenty-one—which made him too young for most biopic roles, especially given that most active Hollywood actors are between thirty and forty-five.

Second, there’s the matter of negotiation.

Although Anson was hot property right now, especially after his Palme d’Or win for Elephant, the "pretty face" label stuck to him stubbornly, and most of the offers Edgar had been fielding were still commercial blockbusters.

Pretty face, pretty face, still a pretty face.

Edgar was filtering through these scripts while also actively trying to break into new opportunities.

What Edgar hadn’t told Anson was that he had been negotiating with a producer in an attempt to connect with Martin Scorsese.

It was well-known in Hollywood that Leonardo DiCaprio had gone through five different agents just to work with Scorsese, so why was it so difficult for an agent to even get a word with him? Was it really that hard to say a single sentence to the man?

It wasn’t about saying something—it was about convincing Scorsese.

Scorsese, often mentioned alongside Steven Spielberg, George Lucas, and Francis Ford Coppola as one of the "Four Great American Directors," had been working in the industry for almost forty years. He was known for demanding excellence from his actors and loved working with familiar faces—Robert De Niro being his go-to actor.

Scorsese preferred his own trusted ensemble, so introducing a new actor into that mix was incredibly difficult.

Also, Scorsese wasn’t interested in "pretty face" actors, consistently working with those he considered serious and dedicated.

So when DiCaprio expressed his desire to work with Scorsese, he was initially ignored. It took several agent changes before Leo could even get a chance.

The same thing was happening with Anson, or more precisely, with Edgar, as he struggled to break through.

Scorsese was preparing a biopic of the legendary tycoon Howard Hughes, and Edgar believed Anson was the perfect choice for the role. He saw it as a career-defining opportunity and tried to get Scorsese to give Anson a chance, or at least have a conversation.

Unfortunately, all efforts failed.

According to the latest news, Scorsese had already decided to cast DiCaprio, reuniting after their work on Gangs of New York.

That was Scorsese for you—he initially had no interest in DiCaprio, but after working together once, Leo became part of his regular ensemble.

Even though Anson was highly sought after and had successfully worked with Spielberg, Scorsese already had his favorite, and he wasn’t open to other suggestions, not even giving Edgar a chance to argue the case.

In this challenging situation, Edgar started to see Walk the Line as a genuine opportunity.

One key factor was Mangold’s desire to showcase the actor's musical talent and give them room to express their personal understanding of music and art.

Setting aside all other factors, Edgar believed this element alone made the role worth considering.

Mangold’s insistence was seen as "pretentious" in Hollywood. If an actor wasn’t good at singing, there was no need to force it—using a "ghost singer" to perform the songs in the studio was an easy solution. But now, that insistence had become Anson’s opportunity, a chance to break through the industry's bias.

Even Edgar himself hadn’t expected that what he once considered a "side project" with the August 31st Band might turn out to be the pivotal moment in Anson’s career.