This movie doesn't have grand scenes—in a strict sense, it's just a drama between three or four people: the boy and the doctor, the boy and his mother, the doctor and his wife. And David Fincher masterfully grasped the theme; the thriller aspect is merely a façade. What the film truly aims to express are communication and familial love.
Although the filming pace under David Fincher's meticulous direction wasn't exactly fast, it wasn't slow either. Especially as time went on, both Al Pacino and Nicole Kidman were getting more and more into character. As for Ryan, however, he encountered quite a bit of trouble—his time to "come out of character" was getting longer and longer.
"Cut!"
Even after David Fincher called out the stop, Ryan still sat stiffly in the high-backed chair, dazed and unresponsive, as if the whole world had abandoned him. He could only retreat into his own world for comfort and protection.
This wasn't the first time this had happened. In the past, both Al Pacino and crew members had tried to help him, but as soon as anyone approached, Ryan would react like Cole in the script encountering a ghost—full of fear, shrinking away, and panic-stricken.
During moments like these, only Nicole Kidman could approach him normally. Only her embrace could offer him warmth and solace.
It took several minutes before Ryan finally snapped out of it. He slumped back into the chair and let out a long breath. They say a good actor can enter and exit a role freely. But him? He could enter but couldn't exit. What was this supposed to mean? Especially when immersed in Cole's world, the painfully dark memories from his childhood in a past life would always take over his mind.
"Ryan, you need to rest," David Fincher suggested seriously.
"No, David," Ryan shook his head firmly. "This is when I'm at my best. Please, trust me, okay?"
David tried to persuade him a few more times. Seeing that Ryan was adamant, he returned to his director's chair and began preparing. The next scene was one of the most important in the entire film.
Dim light filtered into the corridor. With a soft click, the door creaked open a sliver. A boy in a t-shirt and shorts peeked out from the gap, his pale face full of hesitation. He seemed afraid. After scanning the area, he finally made up his mind and wobbled into the bathroom.
Suddenly, the boy felt something pass behind him. He turned around slowly and fearfully. Standing in front of the toilet, he looked so lonely and helpless.
After hesitating for a while, the boy decided to check it out. He walked slowly, the hesitation on his face turning into unease. From the kitchen came the sound of clattering utensils. He thought his mom was making breakfast and felt a bit more at ease.
He stepped into the brightly lit kitchen and asked tentatively, "Mom?"
The woman in the pink nightgown suddenly turned around and barked in a low, shrill voice, "No! Dinner's not ready yet! What do you want?"
Her face was covered in bruises, and her hysterical expression made her terrifying. She roared and angrily extended her hands, which were riddled with deep knife scars. "You'll never hurt me again, Lanny! You're the one who made me like this!"
The boy couldn't bear the horror any longer and turned to flee, running desperately back to his bedroom. However, the ghost woman's hysterical screams still rang in his ears. Without thinking, he dove into the red tent, facing the Virgin Mary and Jesus statues he had collected from a church. Tears of helplessness and despair streamed down his cheeks, suppressed by sobs.
"Cut!"
Everyone, including David Fincher, breathed a sigh of relief. They hadn't expected to get such a key shot in just one take. The boy was extraordinary. Based on his performance over the past month, the only word they could use was "genius."
However, inside the red tent that everyone had ignored, Ryan still sat motionless. The loneliness, helplessness, and despair on his face hadn't faded—instead, it was worsening. His bright sky-blue eyes were gradually losing their luster. Tears poured down like floodwaters from a broken dam.
The boy with black hair and eyes looked extremely thin. His clothes were not only old but patched in many places. The black schoolbag on his back was also worn and so heavy it nearly bent his spine.
He pushed open the classroom door with effort. A few classmates playing nearby shot him unfriendly glances and then scattered. As he walked toward his seat, someone suddenly shouted, and many others joined in chorus: "Idiot! Beggar! Idiot! Beggar!"
The boy bit his lower lip so hard that blood beaded up, but he didn't even notice. His body trembled uncontrollably. Tears welled up in his eyes but stubbornly refused to fall.
"Idiot! Beggar!"
The chants grew louder and louder. He couldn't hold back anymore and swung his black backpack at the nearest boy's head. Once, twice...
"You're just a troublemaker who brings us nothing but problems! Can't you just endure it when they mock you? Look at all of you—abandoned children left behind by your parents. What? I'm wrong? Don't you dare glare at me! I'll teach you a lesson..."
The orphanage director slapped the boy repeatedly. The boy bit his lip even harder, but his eyes were now dry.
"Ryan!" David Fincher called out. Seeing Ryan still unresponsive, and blood starting to appear on his lips, with his bright blue eyes growing dim, he urgently shouted, "Quick! Go get Miss Kidman!"
Nicole was in the middle of removing her makeup. Without even putting on her shoes, she rushed over barefoot, ignoring everything around her and dove straight into the tent, pulling Ryan tightly into her embrace.
"Ryan! Ryan! Wake up!"
Ryan just stared blankly ahead, as if only his shell remained. Nicole's heart trembled uncontrollably. She felt the boy growing colder—not physically, but spiritually. The Ryan she knew, the one she loved, the one she depended on, was slipping away. It was as though he might vanish at any moment.
"No~ Ryan! Come back!"
Nicole pressed her forehead tightly against his, trying to use her body heat to warm his chilling soul, trying to summon him back with her heartfelt call, trying to hold on to the most important person in her life.
"Damn it! I knew it! I knew I shouldn't have let you act in this damned movie! Ryan, I swear—if you don't wake up, I'll send you to boarding school! A Catholic one! I swear to both God and Satan! I swear I'll personally tear down that orphanage that dragged you into darkness and pain! I'll send that fat sow of a matron straight to Devil's Island!"
Panic gradually crept into Nicole's eyes. Hysterical, she no longer knew what she was saying. Thankfully, there were no Black crew members around—otherwise, she'd have been in big trouble.
Seeing Ryan biting his lip so tightly and blood seeping from the corners of his mouth, Nicole could no longer hold back. Her sapphire eyes glimmered, and two large teardrops rolled down her cheeks.
The tears ran down her pale face, carrying her breath, imbued with soul-deep emotion. They dropped onto Ryan's cheek, onto the corner of his mouth, and into his heart, which was slowly being consumed by cold and darkness.
The young man was incredibly stubborn—just like his spiky black hair. He watched the beautiful girl walk farther and farther away. The one who had brought him warmth and light for ten years had finally vanished from his world forever. From that moment on, the clouds covered the sun, and darkness replaced the light.
Time returned to that night. Drunk, stinking, and numb like rotting wood, the young man opened another beer bottle and raised it to his lips. Suddenly, two drops of liquid fell from the sky and landed on his face.
"Why is this so familiar? This scent, this feeling…" The young man suddenly remembered something. His hand loosened, and the beer bottle shattered on the ground. "An Xin? No! This is Nicole!"
"An Xin? Nicole!" When the boy in her arms finally spoke, Nicole immediately replied, "Ryan, I'm here! I'm right here. I'm not going anywhere!"
Ryan blinked, and the blankness in his eyes gradually faded. The sky-blue in his pupils became brighter and brighter. Nicole could feel that the Ryan she knew had returned. But… there was something indescribably different about him.
"I'm sorry, Nicole. I made you worry," Ryan said, hugging her tightly, as if her embrace was the only thing in the world that could bring him warmth and peace.
"Ryan, if… if possible, please don't scare me like that again, okay?" Nicole was still gasping softly, not yet calm.
"Don't worry, Nicole. I just remembered a lot of dark memories."
"Then… who is An Xin?" After living together for several years, Nicole had picked up some Chinese.
"An… An Xin?" Ryan was indeed a born actor. His look of confusion was utterly natural. "I said—安心 (peace of mind), Nicole!"
He deliberately slowed down and pronounced each syllable in Chinese again so Nicole could hear clearly.
"Nicole, I think Ryan needs rest," David Fincher approached. "There aren't many scenes left for the two of you. I'll give you a few days off—take Ryan out for a bit. He's gotten too deep into character."
Too deep into character? Ryan sighed. He could no longer tell whether he was immersed in a role or lost in a dream.
"All right then," Nicole agreed, and looked down at the boy in her arms. "Where would you like to go, Ryan?"
"New York!" Ryan replied instantly, without a second thought.