Due to the time difference, the movie premiered in the East a full 12 hours after its release in the United States.
In other words, just as the word-of-mouth began to spread in the East, things in the West were finally being "set right," with the distorted reviews gradually returning to where they rightfully should have been.
Unlike in the West, there weren't many people smearing Laila in the East. So once audiences there saw the film, the reputation of the movie exploded.
"I thought it was going to be another bait-and-switch kind of film, but turns out Leslie really was one of the lead actors. I'm so proud!"
"Exactly! In recent years, so many actors have gone to Hollywood just to play bit parts and extras, then laughably call themselves Hollywood stars. They go on massive promo tours like they've done something amazing, when in reality, they were just background characters. Where do they get the nerve?"
"Only our Leslie! Even Laila Moran personally invited him to star in the film. After watching Silence, even a die-hard straight guy like me felt like I might turn. How can someone be that cool, that handsome?!"
Online platforms were flooded with praise for Silence. Initially, all eyes were on the role played by Leslie Cheung, with everyone agreeing that he portrayed an outstanding character. Seeing him break away from his usual style on the big screen was exhilarating.
But soon, viewers who had finished the movie shifted the discussion toward the film itself.
"When Leslie's character died, I broke down in tears. God knows, I haven't cried in over a decade! Why did he have to die? I feel like mailing razor blades to the director and screenwriter!"
"You're not alone. But after watching the movie and thinking about it all night, I believe his death was the best narrative choice. If he hadn't died, he wouldn't have become the film's most brilliant character."
"That's true, but why does that explanation still feel so off? Listen, the director Moran clearly wanted to use this plotline to highlight the helplessness of racial discrimination!"
"It's more than helplessness—it's the determination to struggle even unto death!"
"A kind of courage to break free from the cocoon and become a butterfly, no matter the cost. I loved it so much I already bought a ticket to watch it again!"
The film's explosive reputation swept through every country where Silence had been released. Almost no one who had seen it gave it a bad review. This development stunned countless people—including those critics who had initially trashed Laila.
They simply couldn't understand how things had turned out this way. In their eyes, this was a film with nothing much to offer—too simplistic in its message, to the point where even a fool could understand it. How could such a "brainless" movie be so beloved?
One article in The Entertainer's Gazette answered this question perfectly:
"Moran tells her story in a completely straightforward way—not with flowery metaphors or obscure symbolism, but in a manner any literate person could understand."
"Everyone knows that films often tell stories to convey deeper themes—some about anti-war sentiments, some about peace. But too often, overly subtle storytelling just alienates audiences because the story becomes too hard to follow."
"If no one understands your message, no matter how 'brilliant' it may be, it's useless. Worse, it leaves viewers with a poor experience. Why do art films rarely make money? Because they make audiences work too hard just to grasp the point."
"But Laila's film isn't like that. She clearly and directly tells the audience what she wants to express. Yes, it's about an Asian family suffering discrimination, ultimately being torn apart and denied justice."
"In the face of two extreme choices, which should we pick? Director Moran presents this terrifying question, hoping the audience will reflect and choose for themselves. Did she succeed? Yes—she succeeded! The fact that so many people saw and were moved by the film proves that."
"A critically acclaimed art film with a tiny box office might explore profound themes too—but if no one watches it, or understands it, what's the point? If you think a straightforward plot is crude, maybe you should ask yourself whether your own film is so obscure that no one even wants to try figuring it out!"
Anthony had received a clear directive from the old man: "Don't interfere."
Over the next day, he witnessed firsthand the old man's foresight—how accurately he had predicted the direction of public opinion. Only after the tide had clearly turned did Anthony begin instructing people to write pieces in support of Laila.
It was only now that he realized: If they had jumped in to rebut the criticism right away while everyone was still bashing Laila, it would have only made people doubt their intentions—thinking they were defending her just because of who she was.
But now, things were different. With genuine word-of-mouth spreading like wildfire, everyone could see that Laila had been misjudged by a few dishonest critics. Publishing supportive articles at this moment would only strengthen the voice of those already on her side, making their arguments more convincing and grounded in truth.
Even though everything had played out exactly as the old man predicted, Anthony couldn't help but admire the depth of his strategy. The decision to remain silent early on could only have been made with the firm belief that the smear campaign against Laila would soon collapse under the weight of the film's quality.
It wasn't that Anthony was wrong, either. When he sensed trouble, his first instinct was to fight back to protect Laila's reputation and her film. If Laila's reputation hadn't turned around, then taking the initiative would've been the correct move.
After all, isn't that what bad films do? Rely on early marketing before the audience realizes they've been duped. As long as they get viewers into theaters, it doesn't matter if people walk out halfway through or curse all the way home—as long as the money is in hand, it's a win for them.
But was Silence a bad film?
Even at her most unsure, Laila never believed she had made a terrible movie. Her only fear was whether the public would accept it. After all, many great films went unrecognized during their initial release, only to be hailed as masterpieces years later.
Fortunately, beauty will always be recognized in the end. The seeds sown with care had finally bloomed into brilliant flowers—and soon, without a doubt, they would bear sweet fruit.