mchenry-crisis.org Chapter 151 Ambition on and off screen
Chapter 151 Ambition on and off screen
Chapter 151 Ambition on and off screen
In the corner of the lounge, Kitahara Shin was sitting in the center of the sofa. Around him, Koji Ishizaka, Toshiyuki Nishida, and Masato Ibu, three "living fossils" of the Japanese entertainment industry, were chatting happily.
"Kitahara-kun, I found your handling of last night's scene very interesting." Ishizaka Hiroshi held a teacup in his hand, leaning forward as if he were treating him as an equal. "Especially in those two seconds of pause, you didn't look at me, but glanced at your watch. That gesture perfectly captured Zaizen's arrogance."
"yes."
Nishida Toshiyuki, standing next to him, chuckled and patted his round belly, "I can practically smell that impatient ambition through the screen. Among today's young people, you're one of a kind who can handle the kind of improvisation we old guys do."
Kitahara Shin smiled and calmly responded.
He always managed to steer the conversation precisely to the area where each person was most proud, making these usually arrogant seniors beam with joy.
This scene made the staff in the distance hesitant to approach.
That's a social circle for "acting monsters"; ordinary people would feel suffocated if they went in.
Rie Miyazawa stood at the corner of the corridor, clutching the script tightly in her hand, her eyes filled with complex emotions as she looked at the man who was being fawned over.
"—I can't get a word in edgewise."
She sighed softly, suppressing her urge to go up and say hello.
Since Kitahara Shin "conquered" these veteran actors, his status on set has risen sharply.
The break time was almost entirely taken up by these old men; it took a lot of courage to even get close to them, let alone chat with them.
But this is not the only reason why Rie is feeling so heavy-hearted right now.
What made her stomach clench even more than the feeling of being neglected was the upcoming scene.
That was the first formal scene between Higashi Saeko and Zaizen Goro.
She had been preparing for this day for a long time.
In a film analysis class at Horikoshi High School, the teacher emphasized Alfred Hitchcock's film theory.
That master of suspense had a famous quote that Rie still remembers vividly: "Actors are animals."
In Hitchcock's view, film is the art of the director.
The best movies should tell their story entirely through editing. Actors don't need to have their own thoughts; they just need to appear precisely in the positions designated by the director and make the designated expressions, like puppets on strings.
Rie Miyazawa, who debuted as an idol, once thought this theory made a lot of sense.
Because in many of her previous commercial films, she was just a pretty "vase," only responsible for being beautiful and not for thinking.
But now, she doesn't think so anymore.
She looked at Kitahara Shin, who was chatting and laughing in the distance.
That man was not a puppet. He was alive and aggressive in front of the camera.
He not only cooperated with the director, but also used his acting skills to control the camera and even his co-stars.
"An actor needs to understand the director's intentions and, in appropriate situations, make the most of their strengths."
These are the words that Kitahara Shin once said to her.
That's why Rie felt an unprecedented sense of panic when she saw such a dazzling male protagonist.
If I've studied for so long and gone to such lengths to get this role, only to find out I'm still just a "puppet" who can only recite lines when filming starts ———
If you can't keep up with his acting, if you're completely overwhelmed by his aura—
Will he show a disappointed expression?
The thought of Kitahara Shin looking at her with that cold gaze made Rie unconsciously grip the edge of the script, her knuckles turning white.
"Miyazawa-san!"
The assistant director's loud voice interrupted her reverie, "Get ready, ten minutes until filming! We're heading to the hospital courtyard location!"
"yes!"
Rie took a deep breath and slapped her cheeks hard.
No time for sentimentality.
The hospital atrium.
This is an oasis surrounded by white towers, a rare place to breathe in the world of fame and fortune.
"All departments, prepare!"
"The White Tower, Scene 24, Action!"
As the clapperboard fell, the noise subsided.
Rie Miyazawa sat on a bench, holding a thick German book in her hands (which fits Saeko's intellectual and well-educated persona).
She didn't look up, but she heard the footsteps.
That was the sound of leather shoes striking the ground, rapid and powerful, each step like climbing over someone else's shoulders.
It's Zaizen Goro.
Rie took a deep breath and adjusted her posture. Unlike those in idol dramas who panic, she displayed the composure and guardedness typical of a young lady from a prestigious family.
Their eyes met.
Kitahara Shin, wearing a white lab coat, stood three steps away from her with his hands in his pockets.
Backlit, his expression wore a professional, impeccable, gentle smile. It was a mask he used specifically to deal with "people who could be of use."
"Miss Saeko."
Kitahara Shin spoke first, his voice magnetic and charming, trying to close the distance: "Are you reading here? The professor would be very happy to know you're here."
He took a step forward, directly encroaching on Rie's safe distance.
The intense scent of male hormones, mixed with a faint smell of disinfectant, emanated a highly purposeful and oppressive aura.
If it were the old Rie, she probably would have been too intimidated to speak by this aura.
But at this moment, she remembered Hitchcock's theory and the "vase" label she wanted to break.
She didn't flinch, nor did she show any shyness.
She closed the book and slowly stood up.
Her eyes were so clear they were almost cruel, staring straight at Kitahara Shin as if he were a clown putting on a terrible performance.
"Associate Professor Zaizen".
She spoke, her voice soft yet exceptionally clear, interrupting Kitahara Shin's ensuing pleasantries: "You don't need to smile at me like that. I'm not my father, and you don't need to waste your time campaigning for me."
.
Upon hearing this, Kitahara Shin raised an eyebrow slightly.
That professional, fake smile instantly froze on his face.
At that moment, the atmosphere between the two changed. It was no longer a polite exchange between an elder and a younger person, but a genuine clash of ideas.
Kitahara Shin's smile faded.
He took off his glasses, pulled a velvet cloth from his pocket, and slowly wiped them, his eyes turning cold and sharp. It was the rage of having his secret exposed, and the fangs finally being revealed.
"Ms. Saeko is indeed very smart."
He put his glasses back on, his tone turning sarcastic: "Since that's the case, I'll be blunt. In this hospital, only the strong survive. Your father's 'benevolence' won't save lives, nor will it keep him in that position."
He took a step closer, his eyes sharp as knives: "In your eyes, I'm an ambitious man who'll stop at nothing to climb the ladder, right?"
This distance is too close.
Rie was so close that she could see the red blood vessels in his eyes from years of staying up late.
That menacing aura unique to ambitious people pressed down on her shoulders as if it were a tangible weight.
One cannot back down.
Although Ichizaeko was frail, she was the only one who dared to speak the truth in front of this man.
Rie gripped the book tightly in her hand, her knuckles turning white, but her back remained ramrod straight.
She looked at the powerful man in front of her.
There was no fear, no disgust.
A mixture of pity and confusion slowly surfaced in her eyes. It was the look of someone watching a person running frantically through the desert for salt water.
"No."
She said softly, her tone chillingly calm: "I just don't understand."
"You have such incredibly skillful hands, so why do you live like a beggar, begging for votes everywhere?"
The wind blows through the courtyard.
The leaves rustled.
This line, which is not in the original work, is the one that best fits Saeko's perspective and delivers a fatal blow.
She didn't call him a devil; she simply pointed out the truth he least wanted to admit—that he had lost his dignity as a doctor in the game of power.
Kitahara Shin was stunned.
In that instant, a crack appeared in the coldness, arrogance, and sarcasm on his face. It was as if he had been slapped hard by those words, and a hint of genuine embarrassment and pain flashed in his eyes.
But he quickly covered it up.
He snorted coldly, turned around, and left Rie with his back to her, leaving behind a lonely and stubborn figure.
"Because only those who stand at the top of the tower have the right to talk about dignity."
After saying that, he strode away and never looked back.
"Cut!!"
Director Hiroshi Nishitani's voice rang out, his tone filled with undisguised surprise.
"Great! Excellent!"
He took off his headphones and couldn't help but lean out from behind the monitor: "Rie-san! That line about looking like a beggar was so well said! That calm irony is much more powerful than shouting!"
The staff were stunned for a moment, then burst into applause.
In the scene just now, although Kitahara Shin's aura was still strong, Miyazawa Rie was not overwhelmed. Instead, she caught the knife in a way that "softness can overcome hardness" and gently stabbed it back.
This tension is absolutely brilliant.
Rie's body went limp, and she almost sat back down on the bench.
She looked nervously at Kitahara Shin, who had just returned, like a primary school student waiting for the teacher to correct their homework.
Kitahara Shin walked up to her and handed her a bottle of water.
"You acted very well."
His voice was sincere, without any politeness, even tinged with admiration: "Especially that last look in your eyes. You weren't acting like you hated her, you were acting like you regretted it. That's the level that Higashi Saeko should have."
Upon hearing this, Rie felt her eyes well up with tears.
All the anxiety and self-doubt vanished at that moment.
"Thank you—" she said, unscrewing the water bottle to hide her emotions.
The film crew finished work relatively early today.
As the sun set, it bathed the entire Green Mountain film set in gold.
Rie changed into her everyday clothes, slung her bag over her shoulder, and felt exceptionally cheerful.
She wanted to go find Kitahara Shin.
Her recent success made her a little giddy, and she wanted to strike while the iron was hot and invite him out for dinner.
Let's celebrate this first victory, and maybe we can also talk about the script?
She spotted the familiar black Toyota Century in a corner of the parking lot.
Kitahara Nobumasa was leaning against the car door, holding a mobile phone in his hand.
Rie was about to wave and call out to him when she suddenly stopped in her tracks.
Even from a distance, she could see the expression on Kitahara Shin's face.
The man who was always calm, rational, and even a little aloof on set had incredibly soft features on his face at this moment.
He looked down at his shadow on the ground, a faint yet genuinely relaxed smile on his lips.
"Yeah, just finished work."
His voice drifted on the wind; though not loud, it was exceptionally clear in the quiet parking lot.
"Don't wait for me, eat first—remember to heat up the soup, don't drink it cold."
"What do you want to eat? — Okay, I'll buy some strawberries on the way."
That tone.
That familiar, down-to-earth, and unguarded tenderness.
It was "Kitahara Shin" whom Miyazawa Rie had never seen before.
That wasn't the ambition of "Goro Zaizen," nor the authority of "President Kitahara."
That was a private territory that a man reserved only for his closest confidantes—perhaps the legendary songstress, or perhaps the mysterious rock singer.
That was a world she couldn't currently reach.
Rie stood there, her feet, which she had wanted to take a step, feeling as heavy as if they were filled with lead.
She watched as Kitahara Shin hung up the phone, opened the car door, and nimbly climbed into the car.
The taillights came on, and the black sedan glided into the twilight, heading in the direction where someone was waiting for him.
A bittersweet feeling welled up inside me.
The confidence and happiness I had built up in the restroom suddenly seemed insignificant.
"As expected of someone from Kitahara Office."
"Those who follow Kitahara-san—"
The words of those staff members echoed in my ears once again.
Rie gave a bitter smile.
Yes.
No matter how well she acts in the play, no matter how hard she works on set, in everyone's eyes, she is still just a vine clinging to that big tree.
But as she watched the headlights of that departing car, what welled up in her heart was not discouragement, but a profound sense of irony.
Just now, on camera.
Her character, Azuma Saeko, looks at Zaizen Goro with the most compassionate and bewildered eyes, asking him, "Why do you live like a beggar, begging for power?"
In the play, Saeko is the only person in that white tower who is "without ambition." She doesn't understand Zaizen's obsession and even despises his desire to use any means to climb the ladder.
But what about Rie Miyazawa off-screen?
She stood in the shadows, her fingers gripping the bag strap tightly, her knuckles turning white from the force.
She understood.
She understood the meaning of Goro Zaizen's words, "Only those who stand at the top of the tower have dignity," better than anyone else.
Because I don't want to be treated like a pretty face anymore, because I don't want to only see his back, because I don't want to be just "Kitahara Shin's appendage" forever.
"How ironic!"
Rie murmured to herself, a self-deprecating yet sharp smile curving her lips: "Saeko doesn't want to climb the tower, but I—want to climb it."
"I want to climb to the highest point."
"So high that one day—she won't have to be called 'Kitahara Shin's entertainer' anymore, but rather Miyazawa Rie."
The sun completely sank below the horizon.
The girl stood in the shadows, but the light in her eyes was even more intense than before.
That was a flame full of "ambition," the complete opposite of the character.
It also marked the beginning of a female actress's true growth.