Roy chuckled. "I'm not saying it was a mistake to give them the opportunity. I'm just trying to tell you—what matters is you. It's your ability to direct films that counts! The Eastern actors you've worked with—if they were cast in other Hollywood directors' movies, do you really think they'd deliver the same performance as they did in yours?"
What he really wanted to say was: Flattering your wife is exhausting.
Why couldn't she just accept the compliment gracefully? Why did she have to dissect everything? Still, he was relieved that he'd finally managed to steer her attention away from the interview with Leslie Cheung and back onto himself.
"I still think there's something wrong with your logic!" Laila argued, giving another example. "Take Silence, for instance. You've seen the rough cut, haven't you? Can you honestly deny how outstanding he was?"
"Of course, I wouldn't deny it. Cheung's performance was phenomenal—full of tension and extremely immersive. He pulls the audience right into his scenes with ease."
"Exactly! This proves that what Eastern actors really lack is opportunity. Give them more roles, and they'll naturally grow and improve!"
Roy slapped his forehead. "Darling, must we really keep going in circles like this? I'm not saying they don't deserve chances or that their performances are lacking. I'm saying you are the one who helps bring out their true potential. And not every director can do that. Have you forgotten? There's only one Laila Moran in Hollywood!"
"Well, thank you for the compliment." Laila finally picked up on the deeper meaning behind his words. But what he said brought a long-ignored question to the surface.
He wasn't wrong. Getting Hollywood to accept Eastern—or more broadly, Asian—actors was still incredibly difficult. Not just for them—actors from many Asian countries struggled to find their footing in the Hollywood system. They had to bear more pressure than both white and Black actors, often working a hundred times harder just to earn a single opportunity.
The real problem was that Hollywood still didn't have enough directors willing to embrace their talent. If Eastern actors were to become more present in the film world, a lot more groundwork and time would be needed. It couldn't be done overnight.
"I just hope that when Silence is released, more people will come to appreciate what Eastern actors are capable of," she said with a sigh.
Roy opened his mouth, tempted to say, Even among Eastern actors, how many can really reach Cheung's level? But he held it in. There was no need to make his wife overthink it—what if she hurt her brain?
Just then, the interview on the computer continued playing.
The host asked a question many viewers were curious about: "What's the difference between filming in Hollywood and filming back in the East?"
After thinking for a moment, Leslie Cheung answered, "I'd say it's the level of professionalism. I can't speak for all Hollywood directors—after all, I've only worked with Director Moran. But on her set, there's not a single trace of unprofessional behavior. And beyond that, it's her dedication. She's the kind of person who will do anything for a shot."
"I remember there was one scene where we had to catch fish in a stream. The fish were few and small, making it extremely difficult to catch them—especially using the primitive spears we were given. In other locations, they could've just bought bigger fish and placed them in the water for us to catch. But we were filming on a small island. The nearby islands had fish for sale, but they were all saltwater fish. And the scene needed freshwater fish.
"So for that one shot, the crew spent a long time catching larger freshwater fish from both upstream and downstream. Then we had to wait for the perfect timing. That one shot alone took two whole days to film."
"Two days? Just for that?" the host exclaimed in shock.
Cheung nodded. "I asked her at the time—why get so hung up on a scene that would barely be onscreen for a few seconds? Just use a wide shot. The audience wouldn't even notice whether it was freshwater or saltwater fish."
"And what did she say?"
"She said, 'Never underestimate the audience's eyes. What you think they can't see or won't notice—they'll use the most precise methods to expose every single flaw.'"
"Wow," the host breathed. "Director Moran really is meticulous. And how did you feel about that?"
"I thought—her success clearly isn't accidental. Look at some of our directors here—whether it's TV or film, it doesn't take long after release for people to point out all sorts of mistakes. Continuity errors, out-of-place objects—you name it. I don't know how others feel watching that kind of thing, but for me, it's a real shame."
"What's so shameful about it?"
"It's like discovering a flaw in what was supposed to be a flawless piece of jade. Isn't that a shame? Perfect jade is beautiful and valuable, but when a blemish appears, its beauty and worth plummet. I'm not saying every single mistake will be caught, but let's be honest—many of them could've been avoided, couldn't they?"
At this point, Roy pinched his wife's cheek with a smile. "Getting praised—feeling proud?"
Laila raised her brows. "Of course! He's my idol—didn't you know?"
"Shouldn't I be your idol? I'm way better-looking than him!"
"Looks aren't why people become fans, okay?"
"My acting is better than his, too!" Roy refused to concede an inch—he had to be the number one man in her heart! An idol? Unnecessary!
Laila didn't confirm or deny. "Oh yeah?"
"Absolutely! Want me to go get my Oscar and Best Actor trophies to show you? I'll happily bring them up from the hall of fame downstairs and let you examine the names engraved on them!"
Laila laughed and tugged his sleeve to stop him from actually running off. "Okay, okay! I get it—you're the best, alright?"
Only then did Roy look satisfied. But when the conversation on-screen shifted back to Silence, his expression grew serious again.
Right now, he could still say his acting was better than that man's—he had the Oscar to back it up. But the fact that the man was now co-starring in Silence meant he'd become eligible to compete with Roy for awards during the upcoming awards season.
They'd worked together long enough to know each other inside and out. If anyone was qualified to judge Cheung's acting, it was Roy—he'd gone toe-to-toe with him in countless scenes.
Working with Cheung had been easy, exhilarating, and even addictive. They could go full throttle during scenes, trading blows and elevating each other's performances.
Even though the filming had wrapped long ago, the thrill of those moments still resurfaced in Roy's mind from time to time. It was a rare experience for him—he hadn't even felt that kind of spark with Leo.