289: Chapter 288 Incorrect Performance Method

Filming had begun, and the atmosphere on the Film Crew for "mother of the han palace" was quite harmonious.

Although there were many big stars, everyone was quite familiar with each other, gathering to chat or puff on cigarettes.

There were few young people, and among them, An Zhuo had the highest status, yet she was uncharacteristically reserved on set.

She simply sat on her camping stool and continued to study the script.

As the definite male lead, Gu Shengya greeted everyone and caught up with them; catching a glimpse of An Zhuo, who was already in makeup, he walked behind her and tapped her on the shoulder.

"Come on, let me introduce you to some people. Whoa—look at this script of yours."

An Zhuo's script, which wasn't particularly thick, was filled with all sorts of annotations; it was almost completely covered in writing.

Gu Shengya reached out to take the script, trying to decipher the somewhat messy but still legible handwriting.

An Zhuo's script was very plain—

It wasn't cluttered with colorful sticky notes, nor was it scribbled all over with multicolored highlighters.

Compared to her usual refined demeanor, this seemed very unlike her style.

Gu Shengya's gaze fell on the small side table next to her camping table, which held a humidifier, a massage gun, and even an aroma diffuser.

A girl who pursued such a high quality of life actually possessed such a simple, almost tattered script.

"Performance Mode One here is like this, Performance Mode Two is like that..."

Gu Shengya identified the handwriting she had written in the margins.

"Is this how you always act?"

He looked at An Zhuo with some surprise.

This method of acting was similar to a student filling in all possible answers when facing an exam paper.

There's always one that's bound to be right.

"I lack talent, so this is the only way," An Zhuo shrugged, admitting quite generously that she was lacking when it came to character study.

The characters and plot of "mother of the han palace" all had historical prototypes.

It was difficult to shape fictional characters according to her own ideas as she had done in the past.

An Zhuo was very worried that her performance would feel off and that she would be attacked by history enthusiasts.

However, the available materials and historical records were too numerous and dense; unable to distinguish truth from falsehood, the images of Lv Zhi she could create were almost all different.

She herself felt she couldn't get the hang of it, so she had to resort to this crude "fishing in troubled waters" method.

Gu Shengya was surprised, but also very appreciative.

He was surprised that a young person today would actually use such a clumsy method.

He appreciated An Zhuo's attitude toward acting.

Regardless of whether it was right or wrong, her dedication was genuine—a rare kind of dedication.

After all, this was just a role that appeared in less than ten episodes.

"If you write out four or five performance modes and character psychologies, can you really act them out?"

"In other words, even if you really have the ability to act them out, wouldn't the audience feel it's disjointed?"

Gu Shengya threw out several questions in a row, leaving An Zhuo bewildered.

It wasn't that she hadn't thought about this problem, but she didn't know how to solve it.

Gu Shengya looked at the young girl's bewildered eyes and patted her shoulder—

"Don't let the prototype box you in; the character is yours to define."

"Don't worry about what the audience wants to see; first think about what you want to present to them."

"Wake up, you can use your brain later. Let me take you to meet some people."

It was rare for Gu Shengya to be so enthusiastic about introducing a junior to seniors, and the veteran actors were all very cooperative.

Many of them didn't have any scenes at the moment; they had appeared at the opening ceremony and would wait for the script supervisor to notify them of their next call date.

Meeting everyone today meant they would at least be familiar with each other's faces later.

Everyone reached a consensus that the younger version of the female lead was under the male lead's protection, so they treated An Zhuo with great courtesy.

Who wouldn't like a pretty girl with a sweet mouth?

The director brought over the camera draped in red silk, preparing to shoot the first scene.

Only after filming started did An Zhuo realize why Director Yu Feng had told her to act well and not embarrass herself.

Because Gu Shengya's ability was simply too strong.

He was different from those scene-stealers who intentionally suppress others; he was just purely powerful.

His aura was so unique, his acting charm so prominent, and his personal style so strong that the audience's attention was unconsciously drawn away.

It made his scene partners suffer.

So this was the strength of a top-tier Method Acting practitioner in the television industry?

An Zhuo acted in a scene, feeling that she had only performed at a passing level.

Acting like a young girl was just like being a young girl.

Apart from being pretty and young, there were no advantages.

On the contrary, Gu Shengya, who was clearly filled with a scholarly, refined air, could portray the ruffian, hooligan look perfectly.

Some might ask, why did Lv Zhi need to be split into three people, while Liu Bang only needed one male actor?

Besides the director believing that Gu Shengya could handle the life span of the character, it also had to do with the fact that in history, Liu Bang was fifteen years older than his wife upon his first appearance.

Lv Zhi, courtesy name E Xu, had a life that was filled with "being unable to control one's own fate" from the very beginning.

At her father Lü Taigong's birthday banquet, Liu Bang, in order to scam a free meal, blurted out a fake "gift of ten thousand coins." Lü Taigong, however, was astonished by him and immediately betrothed his daughter to this man who was fifteen years her senior.

An Zhuo felt that this father really didn't hold back when it came to screwing over his daughter.

Although history, through the transition between the Qin and Han dynasties, proved that Lü Taigong's judgment was truly precise and ruthless.

But Lv Zhi's entire life was definitely nowhere near happy.

Managing the household, gathering support, and relying on her own family's influence to rally more than half of the eighteen marquises of the early Han dynasty.

Yet she was also mistrusted, hunted down, and harmed by the concubine favored by her husband.

How could the word "miserable" even begin to describe it? Even after death, she was cursed by future generations and called the Wicked Empress.

Because Lv Zhi's life was so legendary, An Zhuo had spent a lot of effort without figuring out how to act out such a legend.

She had conceived seven or eight versions of the character portrait alone.

The more she tried, the more it felt off.

Today, after being nudged by Gu Shengya, her mind finally cleared up a bit.

She felt she had a bit of a clue.

Why bother trying to act out so many different emotions? Follow your heart, perform the historical character's story, and leave the rights and wrongs for the audience to judge.

This was the attitude that an actor in a biographical television series should hold.

As expected of a Method Acting master, he could point out the problem in an instant.

No wonder he could portray a hooligan so vividly despite his scholarly air.

The first scene ended relatively smoothly; in any case, Gu Shengya performed as usual.

An Zhuo's performance didn't attract too much attention from the veteran actors.

She was just a young person with slightly better skills; she wasn't the main contributor to this TV series anyway.

Director Xi Weifeng was a bit busy and couldn't spare the time to coach the actors today.

His pace of filming wasn't fast, mainly because he was confident in the gold content of his own scripts and didn't intend to take the path of fast-consumption dramas.

Many TV series are produced every year, but very few can be called classics; every time Director Xi Weifeng filmed, he took the goal of creating enduring classics.

However, in his career to date, he had only produced five or six truly popular works.

It was evident how difficult it was to create a classic in such a market.

An Zhuo also had an unyielding personality, seizing every moment to re-read the script.

This is how the hardworking type with slightly less natural talent is.

There was always a sense of bitter fate, a feeling that even if there was no credit, there was at least hard work.

She had just barely sorted out a clue when she felt someone tap her on the shoulder again.