Silent was officially slated for release on Christmas Day.
Two weeks before that, Laila released the final trailer—the ultimate preview before the film hit theaters.
This new trailer revealed more than the previous ones. After watching it, fans suddenly felt that the film might not just be a simple action-adventure. It seemed to be hiding something deeper.
Because in the closing moments of the trailer, two enormous seabirds soared into the wind—only to separate and fly in opposite directions.
Knowing Laila's style, every single frame in her films carried meaning. There were no filler shots, no "whatever, toss it in" edits. So when those seabirds flew apart like that, it sparked speculation:
—Did something happen to the two main characters by the end of the story?
Cutting a trailer was no easy task.
Do it wrong, and you won't attract an audience, which means no box office.
Show too much, and you risk spoiling the movie.
And if the trailer ends up being more exciting than the actual film, the audience will feel cheated. Who would give a good review to a movie where the best parts were already in the trailer? You'd be lucky not to get roasted online.
But Laila? She had mastered the balance.
She knew exactly what to reveal and what to withhold—enough to hook the audience without spoiling the magic. Even director Christopher Nolan had once personally requested her to edit a trailer for him. That alone said everything about her skills.
—
When the final trailer dropped, fans and moviegoers swarmed to watch it the moment it went live.
In the first teaser, Laila had only shown Leslie Cheung's back, keeping his face hidden to build suspense.
It wasn't until the second trailer that his full appearance was revealed—making it the most beloved among fans, especially those in Asia.
So for this final cut, expectations were even higher.
Fans wanted substance. If they didn't get it, not just casual viewers but the actors' fandoms would rise, demanding more.
The trailer opened on a shaky, near-crashing plane.
It was a small aircraft, and panic had already taken over inside. People screamed, shouted, and someone even tried to open the door mid-flight to jump out.
Cut to—
A rocky shoreline, debris from the plane scattered everywhere.
In the distance, jagged cliffs loomed like razors.
Seabirds circled overhead, some landing, others taking off.
Another cut—
Footprints in the sand.
At the end of those prints, Roy appeared.
Then, facing him… another man—Leslie Cheung.
The trailer didn't spell things out, but it was clear enough:
Two people are stranded on a deserted island, facing countless dangers.
Only by working together did they survive.
And just as tension peaked—
Two seabirds took flight in opposite directions.
The screen went black.
As stirring music swelled, the names of the two leading actors flashed on screen.
And then came the final, weighty blow:
"A Film by Laila Moran"
Her name burned onto the screen, impossible to ignore—the mark of a storyteller with power and vision.
The audience reaction was explosive.
"Seeing Laila's name alone means it's going to be good. I have to see this in theaters."
"Roy looks amazing, and that Eastern guy—he's magnetic. Their acting is unreal. It doesn't feel like they're performing—it feels like we're watching their real lives."
"I was skeptical about having an Eastern lead, but after this trailer, I'm sold. No wonder Laila picked him. He's mysterious, captivating—he doesn't fade next to Roy at all."
The West was hyped—but the East was on fire.
To them, no matter how handsome Roy was, Leslie was the ultimate star. Their idol.
Seeing his performance in the trailer made his fans proud and emotional.
"There's not much footage yet, but this feels different from the Leslie Cheung we've seen before. There's something raw, powerful… just cool."
"Totally agree! I couldn't pinpoint what felt different until you said that. Watched the trailer like five times already!"
"Director Moran is legendary for how she develops actors. Just look at the award-winning performances she's nurtured. It's like every actor brings out a better version of themselves under her direction. I'm obsessed with this trailer. My wallpaper is literally a screenshot from it now."
"+1 to using a screenshot as wallpaper!"
"+2."
"..."
"+ my ID number!"
This kind of organic, passionate hype was exactly what Laila had been aiming for.
She had always known how massive Leslie Cheung's fame was in Asia.
So rather than saying he used her film to become a global star, it was fairer to say that she used his name to crack open Asia's enormous box office potential.
In recent years, Hollywood has been increasing its cooperation with Eastern markets.
Since the number of Hollywood films allowed into Asia each year was limited, many studios began co-productions to circumvent restrictions.
Even those that didn't would toss in some trending Asian stars for glorified cameo roles—or create special "Eastern Edition" cuts of their films.
Laila, from day one, had despised those lazy tactics.
Michael Bay had once come to her for advice on appealing to the Eastern market. She gave it to him straight:
"Never treat the audience like fools.
Eastern viewers are delighted to see their idols in Hollywood films—but not as throwaway extras. That just feels insulting.
If you want to use Eastern actors to open up the Eastern market, then show some real sincerity. If nothing else, give them actual screen time. If you want the box office, respect the audience."
Laila didn't expect to change every director's mindset.
She didn't believe Eastern actors would suddenly flood Hollywood overnight.
But there were things she could do.
At the very least, her company would offer more opportunities to Eastern talent.
And that's why this film—Silent—couldn't fail.
If Silent succeeded, it would prove to Hollywood that Eastern actors had massive box office pull—that their presence meant real, measurable financial gain.
And when that happened?
Even the most conservative, out-of-touch executives would open their wallets—and their minds.
After all, Hollywood wasn't about pride.
It was about profit.
For years, the belief was that Asian actors couldn't bring in money. That's why they were ignored.
But the moment the industry saw how much value the Asian market held—
Even if you put a gun to their heads, those execs would be grinning as they handed the best roles to Asian stars.