1076-1080

Chapter 1076: Comedy Talent

New York, clear skies.

The entire crew of *Spider-Man 2* was hard at work on the streets of Manhattan. Everyone was silent and focused, all eyes directed in one place.

Sean Graham's palms were slightly sweaty as he gripped the safety wire in his hand, repeatedly checking the harness around his waist and the support under his feet. His face was tense.

Meanwhile, on the other end of the wire, standing on the roof of a three-story building, Anson appeared remarkably calm. He smiled at Sean and the other riggers.

"Relax, hey, relax!"

"No need to be scared. Facing mistakes head-on is the only way to move forward. I’m ready, and I trust you all are too."

"Don’t worry. If anything goes wrong again, I won’t come after you guys. After all, even if I sued you, I wouldn’t get much. I’d definitely go after Sony Columbia instead."

With that bit of humor, the tense atmosphere lightened up a bit.

Sitting behind the monitor, director Sam wasn’t entirely sure. "Anson, are you sure?"

Anson gave an "OK" hand signal, easing some of the anxiety lingering over the set, though no one dared to completely let their guard down.

After taking a deep breath, Sam regained his composure and raised his hand.

"Action!"

At this moment, Anson, dressed in a nerdy outfit—T-shirt, hoodie, and jeans, wearing black-framed glasses—was back in his Peter Parker persona, no costume, no mask. Clearly, this wasn’t Spider-Man.

Because of that, instead of using a stunt double, Anson had to do this scene himself since his face would be in the shot.

Holding onto a clothesline with his right hand, Anson stood at the edge of the three-story building like a trapeze artist preparing to perform a mid-air stunt. The only difference was he had the safety of the wire rig.

As the camera rolled, Anson took a deep breath, grabbed the clothesline with one hand, and jumped off the roof.

"Ahhh..."

Peter continued to fall, crashing into the wall like a comic book character.

"Oof!"

With a sudden thud, Peter let go of the clothesline, bounced off, and dropped straight onto the roof of a dark blue sedan, then bounced again like a ball before rolling onto the ground.

Splat.

He landed face-first, arms and legs sprawled out, right into a puddle. The comedic timing was perfect.

Then, like a spring-loaded toy, Peter popped back up, only to wince as his body creaked and cracked.

Supporting his back with one hand, his face contorted in pain as he groaned, "My back... Oh, my back..."

He spasmed, struggled, twisted, and limped away painfully, stumbling.

The set remained silent, everyone holding their breath as they watched him limp away. Though Peter didn’t keep moaning, his defeated, pitiful posture spoke volumes.

"Cut!"

The entire crew erupted into laughter, whistling and clapping as the set became lively. One by one, people joined in, the air buzzing with energy.

Even Sam, who was usually stone-faced, couldn’t help but smile and call out, "That’s a wrap!"

The atmosphere was now buzzing even more.

They were filming an impromptu scene.

In the movie, Peter, overwhelmed by stress, begins to doubt himself, losing his powers temporarily, sometimes working, sometimes not. He even has several moments where his powers fail him while swinging between buildings, causing him to fall.

This scene was exactly that.

Peter thought his powers had returned, so he jumped off the building, only to realize too late that his powers hadn’t come back. Like any normal person, he fell flat on his face.

To film this scene, Anson had to perform the "falling" sequence himself. Although the full fall would be filmed with a stunt double in wide shots, close-ups required Anson to step in.

The whole crew was on edge.

Not long ago, Anson had an accident on set, leading to a series of complications. And now, they were filming another falling scene with him.

Though this was a "controlled" fall, the crew was still tense.

The wire team, in particular, was feeling immense pressure, running drills over and over, trying to relax but failing to smile, rehearsing repeatedly to ensure every detail was right. The tension was palpable.

Seeing this, Anson made a suggestion:

Why not break the fourth wall? After Peter falls, he could add a line, "My back," referencing Anson’s real-life injury.

The idea came from the *Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind* set, where Anson and Kirsten Dunst had added an Easter egg in one of their first scenes together.

Now, it was the same.

Anson’s on-set injury had made headlines across North America. By making a joke about it in the film, they figured audiences would get a kick out of it when the movie premiered.

The crew was shocked. They couldn’t believe Anson had made such a proposal.

But, on the other hand, they had to admit it was a brilliant way to defuse the fear and tension, allowing everyone to relax a bit.

Sam couldn’t help but admire Anson’s courage and unique charisma.

Judging by the results, it was a resounding success.

The cloud of tension hanging over the set vanished without a trace.

Even Sam, who was usually stoic, couldn’t help but whistle, leading the crew in a wave of excitement.

Sam knew that Anson’s gesture was, at its core, for the sake of the entire crew, and he didn’t want to let Anson’s efforts go to waste. So, he kept the momentum going.

There was no doubt, this was a moment to remember.

Sean Graham looked down at his hands, noticing his fingers were trembling.

He had been forcing himself to stay calm, calm, calm—even if he got hurt, he couldn’t let Anson get hurt. He had been so focused on his work that it wasn’t until the scene was over that he realized his hands were shaking.

"...Still nervous?"

A voice snapped him back to reality. Sean reflexively clenched his fists, standing up straight, trying to hide his emotions, unaware that his stiff posture had already given everything away.

When he looked up, there was Anson.

Sean tried to say something, but his throat was too dry.

Anson smiled. "It's over now. You can relax. If you stay this tense, something’s bound to snap."

Sean swallowed hard, studying Anson closely. "You... You’re okay?" he asked, unable to hide his concern.

Anson laughed. "I’m fine, really. I’ve never felt better. The crew’s treating this like some huge action scene, layering me with protection on protection. What could go wrong?"

The wall had a layer of foam to cushion the impact.

The car roof had an air cushion.

The ground was covered with mats for additional cushioning.

With all these layers of protection, it was like Anson was falling onto a cloud, not to mention the safety wire for extra security. It was foolproof.

*Chapter 1077: High Standards, High Quality*

Inside and out, from top to bottom, the production team ensured comprehensive protection.

The danger factor was reduced to nearly zero, with the entire set surrounded by air cushions.

So, shouldn’t the shoot have gone smoothly without a hitch?

Sean gave Anson a once-over and finally felt slightly more at ease. "What can I say, you're the treasure of the entire crew."

Anson glanced at Sean, his face twisted with a grimace. "My back, my back."

Sean was startled.

But in the next second, he caught the mischievous glint in Anson’s eyes.

He’d been tricked.

Sean paused, but he couldn’t hold back and let out a soft laugh. "Thank you."

"I know you’ve been trying to help. Even though you're the one who got hurt, you’ve been comforting the crew and worrying about how we’re handling it."

Anson shrugged. "I’m not as noble or kind as you make me out to be."

"I just don’t want to get hurt again, that’s all."

"Hey, in the end, I’m the one who’s gotta deal with the pain, right?"

Sean immediately understood what Anson meant. "Even so, thanks."

There were many more things Sean wanted to say, but he realized words couldn’t fully express his feelings, so he swallowed them all down.

"So, you’re not afraid?"

Anson looked over at him.

Sean explained, "About getting back on the wire. You’re not traumatized?"

Anson gave a light shrug. "You’ll need to keep this to yourself, especially from Luca, but... yeah, I’m scared."

"Believe me, when I say I really don’t want to get hurt again, I mean it. It’s the worst feeling, and I never want to go through it again."

"Honestly, right before the shot, my knees were trembling a bit, and my legs felt like noodles, barely able to hold me up."

"But."

"The first step to overcoming fear is to face it. I don’t want to be trapped by it. Otherwise, half the fun of being an actor would be gone."

"To be real with you, when I jumped down just now, my eyes were closed the whole time, haha."

"Shh, don’t tell anyone else, or Luca will start nagging again."

Ahem.

A beat too late, Anson finally noticed Sean signaling with his eyes.

Anson blinked. "Luca’s standing right behind me, isn’t he?"

Sean face-palmed and gave a barely noticeable nod.

Anson slowly turned his head, saw Luca’s cold, stern face, and forced a smile like nothing had happened. "So, are we ready for the next scene, Director?"

Luca wasn’t having it. "I heard someone took quite the joyful tumble earlier."

Anson looked to the sky. "Ah, Luca Wood, it was nothing. Really, nothing!"

Nearby, Sean watched the dejected Anson and the stone-faced Luca, unable to hold back the slight smile that tugged at the corners of his mouth. He quickly lowered his head, realizing it might not be the right moment.

The wire technicians around them exchanged glances, their tense expressions gradually softening, and smiles reappeared on their faces.

The entire crew relaxed as the pressure visibly lifted.

It was true—

From co-stars to the crew and even the director, everyone had been tense, like an invisible string pulling tight, unable to relax.

But with Anson’s return, that string began to loosen, and everyone slowly regained their rhythm. Though it took some time, they were finally back on track.

The production was finally back on schedule.

After a period of adjustment, the shooting pace picked up again.

Originally, due to Anson’s unexpected injury, the production halted for five days. When they resumed, they tried to catch up, but things didn’t go smoothly. Instead of gaining ground, they fell further behind.

Before Anson returned, the crew was two weeks behind schedule. Even though he came back early, the challenge remained immense.

The pressure was ever-present, with Sony-Columbia watching them closely.

Situations like this happen all too often in Hollywood, often leading to disastrous results. The tension from multiple directions can drag a production down like quicksand, turning it into a train wreck.

The bigger the budget and project, the more likely it is to be caught in the whirlwind of conflicting interests and power struggles, leading to chaos and disaster.

This is no exaggeration.

However!

Unexpectedly, the crew slowly found their rhythm, working steadily and methodically. The producers and director took on the brunt of Sony-Columbia’s pressure, giving the team enough time and space to work. The shoot became smoother and smoother.

And, they maintained high quality throughout.

When the crew wrapped up all their work in New York, they were only three days behind the initial schedule. It was almost unbelievable how they caught up, silencing all the voices at Sony-Columbia.

Afterward, the crew moved on to Chicago, Vancouver, and Los Angeles to continue filming.

After weathering the storm, the entire team was more united than ever—something Sony-Columbia hadn’t anticipated. The rest of the shoot went smoothly, and they even managed to surpass their schedule—

A full week ahead, "Spider-Man 2" was about to wrap in Los Angeles.

A surprise!

An absolute surprise!

From a purely time-based perspective, finishing a week early might not seem like a big deal. After all, "Spider-Man 2" had a total shoot time of 114 days, nearly four months, so wrapping a week early wasn’t that impressive.

But, given everything the crew had been through, it was a massive victory.

When Anson got injured, Michael Lynton’s biggest fear was:

The delayed schedule would prevent the movie from hitting next summer’s box office.

It was a legitimate concern that sparked a series of chaotic events.

But now, not only did "Spider-Man 2" stay on track, but they also wrapped ahead of schedule, effectively erasing the time lost from Anson’s accident. This was a serious slap in the face to Michael.

And that, right there, was the point!

Most people might not know the inside story, but Sam knew every detail.

The usually quiet and reserved Sam rarely gossiped. But he’d been all in, putting in 200% of his energy, devoting everything he had to directing.

Finally, Sam made his voice heard, delivering a powerful response.

Whether Michael Lynton could feel it or not, this was Sam’s way of pushing back. After being tense and holding his breath through the entire process, Sam could now relax and feel a sense of redemption.

From summer to fall, the calendar had flipped to October, and today, the crew of "Spider-Man 2" finally reached the end of the line.

Just like the first scene they shot, the final scene was chosen to be simple and relaxed—a lighthearted way to cross the finish line.

“Cut!”

Sam’s voice rang out, and everyone’s eyes turned to him.

The director continued.

“That’s a wrap. We’re done.”

Cheers erupted.

Nearly four months of ups and downs were finally over, like graduating from school. It was time to celebrate.

Quietly, eyes began to turn toward the absolute star of the crew—

Anson Wood.

Chapter 1078: A Missed Opportunity

One, two, three—

Without any warning, a bucket of cold water was poured over Anson’s shoulders and neck.

In an instant, he was drenched to the bone.

Anson stood frozen in place, maintaining an awkward posture, blinking in disbelief. It took him a full second to realize what had just happened.

The prankster, who was always the one pulling tricks, had become the victim of a prank?

He looked down at his soaked clothes and slowly raised his head.

Around him, there was a burst of laughter. James Franco and Kirsten Dunst, the masterminds, had gotten their shoes wet from the splash too, and they were now laughing uncontrollably. Meanwhile, a group of crew members, holding small plastic buckets, had formed a circle around Anson, looking like kids ready to build sandcastles on the beach. Their eyes sparkled with amusement, and smiles stretched across their faces.

But as they prepared to move in closer, they hesitated, noticing Anson’s stiff stance. One by one, they grew uncertain.

After all, this was Anson.

They had been convinced by James Franco to join in on this prank, but what if they had gone too far and angered Anson? How would they deal with the fallout?

Could Anson even take a joke?

The atmosphere grew tense.

Anson glanced down at his soaked clothes once again and then shouted loudly.

“Wardrobe team, you saw this! It's not my fault, I didn’t ask for this!”

The wardrobe crew, who had just been worrying about sending the clothes to the dry cleaners and dealing with extra work after the wrap, couldn’t help but burst out laughing.

Then.

Anson gestured to Shawn, who was standing nearby with a bucket.

“Come here, you.”

Shawn: ??? Why me?

“Come on, come over.”

Under Anson’s beckoning, Shawn, confused but unable to resist, stepped forward.

James let out a warning scream, “No, Shawn! It’s a trap!”

But it was too late.

Shawn stood in front of Anson, who took the small yellow bucket—

Ah!

James was the first to yell and run away, followed by the rest of the group. The once tightly surrounded Anson was suddenly left standing alone.

Just when everyone thought Anson was going to retaliate, he did something unexpected. He took the plastic bucket and poured the water over his own head.

With a swift motion, Anson slicked back his wet hair, and a broad smile spread across his face.

Earlier, James and the others had intended to pour the water over Anson's head, just like in those NBA or NFL games where players dump Gatorade on the coach. But they quickly realized that it's harder to pull off in real life, and instead of drenching him from the top, they ended up soaking his neck.

Now, Anson had corrected the problem for them.

He then spread his arms wide, smiling at everyone around him.

“Seize the moment, guys. I’m getting ready to fight back.”

The bold and confident stance left everyone stunned. They had never seen someone turn the tables on a prank like this.

Kirsten was the first to snap out of it.

She rushed forward a few steps, “He’s alone, we’ve got the numbers! Attack!”

At her command, James grabbed a blue plastic bucket and charged forward, leading the way. “Charge!”

But just as quickly, he saw Kirsten make an abrupt U-turn, sprinting away at full speed.

James: ???

He, too, tried to retreat, but it was too late. Anson took a big step forward, grabbed James by the neck like an eagle catching a chick, and held him tight.

James howled, “Anson! Anson! Help!”

Anson ignored him and looked around at the hesitant crew members. “What are you waiting for? I’ve got him! This is your chance!”

Kirsten skidded to a halt, turned back, and threw a splash of water.

Splash!

That started a chain reaction. Everyone grabbed their colorful plastic buckets and began flinging water they had prepared earlier.

James’s eyes widened in disbelief. He couldn’t believe the trap he had set had become his own downfall.

“Wait—” he tried to speak, but the water splashed into his open mouth, cutting him off.

As he gasped for air, he accidentally swallowed some water, sputtering, “Wait, I swallowed it! Anson, help!”

In the meantime, Shawn, having noticed Anson’s warning glance, managed to escape just in time. From a safe distance, he watched as James was soaked with water right in front of him.

Shawn stood there, dumbfounded.

He couldn’t believe his eyes. Just moments ago, James had been enjoying the prank, but now, he was the one being drowned in water.

Amid the laughter and chaos, the entire set erupted into joy.

As for Sam?

The quiet, responsible guy had long since locked himself in Anson’s trailer, shutting out the noise of the prank. He put on a vinyl record of “Beethoven’s Symphony No. 5,” brewed a cup of coffee, and hummed along to the music while nodding his head to the rhythm.

For a moment, the set turned into a chaotic scene of playful fighting, and the wrap party unofficially kicked off in a way no one had anticipated.

Everyone was wrapped up in the fun, so no one noticed two unfamiliar figures quietly appear on set.

One was a chubby middle-aged man with a round face, round belly, round fingers, and even a shiny round forehead, thanks to his receding hairline. His round eyes and round nose were framed by a scruffy beard that made his whole face look even rounder.

Beside him stood an elderly man with gray hair and a neatly trimmed gray beard. His dignified air was enhanced by the navy blue suit he wore, though it looked somewhat out of place in the still-warm October weather of Los Angeles.

The two of them looked like they had just arrived from another planet, curiously observing the water fight taking place before them.

Though others might have been scared off by the chaos, they remained calmly surveying the scene.

The round-faced man’s eyes lit up. “There, look. That’s him.”

The gray-haired man raised his chin slightly. “Hmm…” He paused, looking thoughtfully. “His build and presence… not quite right, but there’s definitely a certain charm. You know, the first time I saw Johnny, he had this rebellious, world-weary air about him. This guy seems a bit too bright and cheerful.”

The round-faced man chuckled. “But the charisma is the same.”

The gray-haired man nodded. “He stands out in a crowd, that’s for sure. Height-wise, he’s similar too. Honestly, there’s only one Johnny, so finding someone similar isn’t easy.”

The round-faced man didn’t mind, rubbing his hands together. “Why don’t we go up and talk to him? Personality, charm, conversation skills—all of that matters too.”

The gray-haired man pondered for a moment. “True.”

The round-faced man pressed on, “Besides, with him on board, Sony-Columbia will definitely invest.” Without waiting for a response, he eagerly took a step forward.

The gray-haired man hesitated briefly before following.

Chapter 1079: Helping Others for the Joy of It

"Anson…"

"Anson!"

The round-faced man shouted repeatedly, but his voice was drowned out by a chorus of laughter and chatter. Finally, he managed to catch Anson's attention.

Anson looked slightly surprised to see a completely unfamiliar face on set, but he quickly reacted. Taking a step forward, he used his body as a shield to block a bucket of water aimed at the round-faced man. Turning his head, he called out, "Hey, careful, let's not damage the plants."

Having fun is one thing, but it's not good to hurt the innocent.

With the playful laughter fading, Anson turned his attention back to the round-faced man. "Is there something I can help you with? Or are you lost and need some guidance? Which production crew are you looking for?"

A white-haired man standing a few steps behind silently observed the scene.

Amid the chaos, Anson remained smiling, his eyes bright and approachable, showing no signs of a superstar attitude. At the same time, he exuded a warm and radiant aura, making everything else seem insignificant. The entire world’s focus was on him.

One glance was enough.

In Hollywood, people often say, "You can tell if someone has star power with just one look." But real life isn't a Hollywood movie. Actors who can exude star quality with just a glance are rare. Most of that talk is just to justify their supposed foresight and power over others' fates.

That's all.

But occasionally, very occasionally, Hollywood life gives you a fleeting glimpse, where your gaze is drawn before your mind can catch up.

In moments like these, you realize that the aura of a star is real.

Here was such a moment.

Instinctively, the white-haired man stepped forward, squeezing in front of the round-faced man and interrupting the conversation. With a tone more urgent than he realized, he asked, "Do you know Johnny Cash?"

Anson sensed the sudden intensity and didn’t answer immediately. Instead, he sized up the white-haired man while keeping his smile. "Sorry, I can't help. There's no Johnny Cash in our crew, at least none that I know of. But you could ask around..."

"No." The white-haired man cut him off. "Not just any Johnny Cash. In America, there’s only one Johnny Cash."

Anson raised an eyebrow, searching his memory.

From the man’s tone, it was clear that Johnny Cash was someone famous, but unfortunately, the name didn't ring a bell for Anson—after all, he wasn’t an all-knowing encyclopedia.

Though it felt a bit awkward, Anson shook his head and spread his hands. "Sorry, I still can't help. Are you sure you don't need help with something else?"

That single response left the white-haired man momentarily stunned, standing frozen, shocked and incredulous. A hint of anger flashed across his face, but instead of exploding, he let out an odd smile.

In just one second, his face displayed a full range of emotions.

The round-faced man, clearly anxious, scratched his head and stammered, "We... we’re here to see you. You, Anson Wood."

Things were escalating rather quickly and unexpectedly.

So, what exactly was happening here? Was this some kind of scam? Or a prank show?

In a different setting, Anson might have left quickly to ensure his safety. But this was the Sony Columbia Studios lot in Los Angeles, with at least six film crews working nearby. Only industry professionals could enter, so Anson didn’t rush to leave.

His first thought? It must be some kind of prank show.

For viewers ten or twenty years later, the entertainment landscape was filled with diverse options, and older formats had faded. But in the early 2000s, prank shows that staged surprises or awkward situations were hugely popular.

They'd prank actors, singers, or random people, filming their reactions for entertainment. These shows were immensely popular, often with the show’s crew coordinating with an actor's manager to keep the prank secret.

Anson had reason to believe that this was likely arranged by Edgar, his agent. So, what show was it?

He remained patient. "So, are you here to discuss work? You can contact my agent; he should be on set today as well."

The round-faced man, clearly aware that things had gotten messy, took a deep breath to calm himself. "Sorry, Anson, please forgive our abruptness."

"I'm… uh, I’m James Mangold, the director. I have a project I’d like to discuss with you."

"I know, I know, we should go through your agent. Trust me, I understand how Hollywood works. But before we start formal talks with your agent, we wanted to speak with you directly. Maybe you could spare five minutes—just enough for a cup of coffee."

Wait, this wasn’t a prank show?

Now things were awkward.

James Mangold. Director.

The director of Girl, Interrupted and Identity, the former earning Angelina Jolie her first Oscar nomination for Best Supporting Actress. The latter, released earlier this year, didn’t make waves at the box office but became a cult favorite in the DVD market, praised as a low-budget sci-fi classic.

Of course, James Mangold’s most famous film would be 2017’s Logan, which redefined the superhero genre by portraying an aging Wolverine's struggles, earning Mangold an Oscar nomination for Best Adapted Screenplay.

Few people knew that Mangold was classically trained, starting his career writing numerous animated scripts for Disney before transitioning to directing at 32.

Mangold might not be a household name, and his academic background may have tempered his creative wildness, but there was no doubt about his passion for filmmaking. He was a director deeply committed to exploring character depth, often relying heavily on strong performances from actors.

Anson was familiar with Mangold’s name, especially since Identity was one of his favorite indie sci-fi films from earlier this year. But Mangold wasn’t a flashy figure, so Anson hadn’t immediately connected the face with the name.

Until the director introduced himself.

Now, the surprise hit him full force.

Anson, feeling a bit awkward, didn’t hide it and clung to one last shred of hope. "Sorry, this isn’t some kind of prank show, is it?"

*Chapter 1080: A Difference of Opinion*

"Sorry, isn't this some sort of prank show?"

Ansen’s face was full of sincerity, and his reaction completely caught the two people in front of him off guard.

Clearly, from the very beginning, they were not on the same page, creating a sense of dissonance like two people speaking different languages. An absurd kind of humor naturally surfaced from the situation.

Unfortunately, the other party wasn’t in the same lighthearted mood as Ansen.

The white-haired man sneered, not hiding his anger. “What? Do we look like a joke to you? Jesus Christ.”

Ansen remained unbothered and shrugged lightly. "Hey, you showed up on set, stood in front of me without any warning, without being introduced by my agent, and without explaining anything. You should allow me to use my imagination. Honestly, the fact that I didn’t think you were kidnappers shows I'm being kind."

His tone was calm, relaxed, and even humorous.

The white-haired man was stunned.

Meanwhile, the round-faced man almost burst out laughing but managed to control himself, though the corners of his mouth kept twitching.

Joking aside, Ansen knew how to gauge the situation and quickly pulled his thoughts back into focus.

Still, Ansen couldn’t quite understand why James Mangold had come to visit him on set, bypassing his agent. What was the reason behind that?

Of course, Ansen could think of a few interesting scenarios where a project might skip the agent and go straight to the actor.

Ansen smiled again and looked directly at James Mangold, who was staring at him. “Identity—I really liked it. I watched it twice in the theater this year. If you’re the director, sure, I can spare five minutes for us to grab a coffee.”

“How about this: why don’t you head over to the café across from Stage 3? I’ll change into a dry set of clothes, and I’ll meet you there in a minute.”

After saying this, Ansen took half a step back, gesturing to his drenched, disheveled appearance. Water droplets were still falling from his short hair, but his bright eyes pierced through the strands, looking directly at the two men. His calm and unbothered demeanor quickly smoothed out any tension.

James's smile returned before he even realized it. “Of course, no problem. See you in a bit.”

As James turned to leave, he noticed the white-haired man still standing in place. Sighing softly, he tugged at the man’s arm.

“James…”

“Hey, James!”

So, the white-haired man was also named James?

He continued staring at Ansen, and it was hard to read his expression—there was more than just anger. There was something like nostalgia, maybe even longing, in his eyes.

In the end, he followed James Mangold out of the soundstage.

Mangold, seemingly oblivious to the white-haired man’s internal turmoil, spoke with mild excitement. “Ansen’s really something, isn’t he? He’s even better than I imagined.”

Beside him, James Keach shook his head repeatedly. “He doesn’t even know Johnny. I don’t think this is going to work.”

Mangold didn’t seem to care. “James, Ansen was born in the 1980s. He and Johnny aren’t even from the same era. Isn’t it normal that he doesn’t know him?”

“If we’re looking for a young actor, the chances of them not knowing Johnny are pretty high.”

Keach whipped his head toward Mangold. “What are you talking about? Johnny is up there with The Beatles! No, scratch that. He’s one of the greatest singers in American music history. How could Ansen not know who he is? How is that possible?”

Mangold exhaled softly. “James, even I can’t say I really knew Johnny. I know of him, I like his music, but that doesn’t mean I understand him. That’s why I need your help. That’s why I’ve read two of his biographies, to truly understand him.”

“To us, Johnny is a symbol, an icon. He’s not just a regular person—he carries this aura. But that also means we can’t truly enter his world. When we look at Johnny with awe, he ceases to be the real Johnny. He becomes this perfect image we’ve created in our minds.”

“Now think about it. If we cast an actor who idolizes Johnny, do you think he’d dare to break down Johnny’s life? Do you think he’d be able to step into Johnny’s world with objectivity? Do you think he’d interpret Johnny through his own lens?”

“So, what do you want? A performance from someone who idolizes Johnny, or a Johnny reconstructed without biases or preconceived notions?”

“I thought we already talked about this, and Johnny himself agreed. So why are you acting so surprised?”

Blah, blah, blah.

Clearly, Mangold had a different perspective and managed to remain calm and objective, eventually silencing Keach.

Though Keach's expression remained stubborn, he stopped arguing, retreating into his own thoughts.

He needed a moment to process.

So, who exactly was Johnny Cash?

Johnny Cash was one of the greatest singers in North American music history.

This legend was one of the most influential singer-songwriters in shaping American country, rock, pop, and folk music. He was hailed as the embodiment of the American grassroots spirit, leaving a lasting impact on the music scene and pop culture.

Appearing around the same time as Elvis Presley, Johnny Cash’s influence was comparable. However, while his primary genre was country, he also inspired rock and folk music. His impact was somewhat less global than Presley’s, mostly limited to North America.

Even so, Johnny Cash’s legacy was undeniable. Today, in Nashville, traces of his cultural influence are everywhere.

Over his career, he sold more than 50 million albums, won numerous awards, and topped the Billboard charts. He was considered a legend who could stand toe-to-toe with The Beatles, sometimes even surpassing them.

The only slight regret was that Johnny Cash's true influence remained rooted in the country genre. Compared to legends like Elvis, The Beatles, or Bob Dylan, his impact stayed primarily within North America.

Moreover, his influence started to fade in the '80s and '90s. For young people like Ansen, who had no interest in country music, it was entirely normal not to know about Johnny Cash.

After all, the music scene in the ’90s belonged to rock, R&B, and pop.

And now, Mangold and Keach were discussing this legend.

Clearly, Keach was unhappy. Ansen didn’t know Johnny Cash? How could he not know Johnny Cash?

Unforgivable!

His anger flared up, burning inside him.