The movie had ended—
Seamless, smooth, and perfectly executed.
Steven Spielberg's magic in commercial filmmaking lies in how effortlessly time flies. Before you even realize it, the film is over, leaving you with an easy and enjoyable viewing experience, fully immersed in the story.
No wonder Catch Me If You Can garnered universal praise from the media.
For a brief moment, Anne Hathaway felt the urge to stand up and applaud. It was pure entertainment, pure relaxation, and enjoyment, turning the time spent in the theater into a distinct and memorable experience.
But at the last second, Anne managed to stop herself just in time.
She reminded herself not to stand out, to avoid drawing any attention.
Biting her lip, Anne realized that no one else was clapping, though the room was filled with murmurs of excitement and admiration. It wasn't quite enough to trigger a standing ovation.
Surprisingly, however, no one left their seats.
Anne found this unusual.
In North America, unlike Europe, people usually leave the theater as soon as the movie ends. No one waits for the credits to finish rolling.
And this wasn't even a premiere.
So, what was going on? Had the sun risen in the west today?
Anne was momentarily confused until she overheard snippets of nearby conversations.
"... Is Anson going to make a surprise appearance?"
"Wasn't the flash event over?"
"Who knows? I read somewhere that he wasn't coming."
"I heard Anson is in Toronto, getting ready for his next flash event in Canada."
"Maybe that's all a smokescreen, and Anson's going to surprise us again?"
"Oh, I'd love to see Anson in person."
"Don't you think Anson's incredibly charming?"
The film was over, and though no one had left, it seemed movie theater etiquette was no longer a priority. Conversations started to get louder.
It took Anne a moment to connect the dots—Anson, Catch Me If You Can, flash events.
Wait, where was Anson?
Suddenly, Anne turned to where Anson had been sitting, only to find the seat empty.
She had no idea when he'd left. Like the rest of the audience, she had been completely engrossed in the story, captivated by young Frank's choices, and hadn't noticed anything happening around her.
In hindsight, Anson had been smart to leave when he did. Otherwise, staying in the theater could have drastically increased the risk of his presence being discovered.
Still—
Anne scanned the crowd stealthily. If they only knew the person they were so eagerly waiting for had been right there, watching the movie with them, they would lose their minds.
At least, Anne herself felt that strange sensation, as though the fourth wall of the film had been broken. The line between reality and fiction blurred, making everything feel surreal.
"Oh no."
Anne suddenly realized she had been so absorbed in the film that she had forgotten to leave early. Now, getting up would draw too much attention and risk exposing her.
What should she do?
Her best option was to stay put. She decided to wait until the entire audience had left before getting up.
With that thought in mind, Anne leaned back into her chair, curling up like a small Persian cat, blending into her seat as her mind drifted back to the film's world of light and shadow.
...
In the restroom, Anson splashed cold water on his face, trying to cool his flushed cheeks. It wasn't enough, so he soaked his hair and the back of his neck. Finally, he felt a bit of relief as the heat and tension left his chest, and his shoulders relaxed.
The heating in the theater was way too high!
Anson was convinced the temperature in the screening room had to be over 86 degrees Fahrenheit. Wrapped in warm air, combined with his recent travels and exhaustion, he had nearly fallen asleep during the movie.
So, was this a failure of the film?
Anson recalled a joke among film buffs:
"You know how hard it is to fall asleep during a movie? If the sound is too loud, the editing is weird, or the cinematography is bad, your eyes and ears are constantly being tortured. How could anyone fall asleep? Only a truly great movie, blending reality and fiction so seamlessly, could create the perfect environment for a peaceful nap."
"The difficulty of catching some good sleep during a film festival."
Of course, it was a joke. But the truth was, a movie that could lull someone into a comfortable sleep wasn't necessarily a terrible film.
Catch Me If You Can couldn't be considered a flop... right?
Luckily, Lucas had stayed alert.
He hadn't forgotten that lingering in the theater after the movie ended, waiting for the lights to come up, would risk exposing Anson. Lucas had quietly woken him up, and the two had slipped out before the audience's attention fully returned from the screen, avoiding any danger.
Now, Anson was in the restroom, shaking off his drowsiness, while Lucas stood guard outside.
Anson exhaled deeply, looking at his reflection in the mirror, now covered in water droplets. His mind was clearing, and the tension and fatigue were ebbing away.
He realized that if this were still during the flash event, he wouldn't have been able to relax enough to fall asleep. He would have remained on high alert, only catching brief moments of rest during transit, never truly letting his guard down.
From that perspective, being able to nap so soundly was a good sign. The weight pressing down on his chest had finally lifted.
Anson was surprised. He had thought it would take a week or two to fully recover, but apparently, one night had been enough.
Not bad.
After wiping his face, Anson turned to leave the restroom, just as Lucas approached, whispering, "The crowd's dispersing."
Anson: ???
"Catch Me If You Can doesn't have that short of an end credit sequence, does it?"
Lucas quickly caught on. "It's the end of a different screening—Lord of the Rings."
Ah, that made sense.
Lucas leaned in and whispered, "You should wait in one of the stalls for a bit longer. It'll take some time for the parking lot to clear out."
Anson spread his arms, joking, "Life of a superstar."
The quip made Lucas chuckle. "Just a little longer. I'll check things out up front. The theater doesn't seem too crowded tonight."
Anson didn't protest, throwing out a casual, "Superstar!" before returning to the restroom.
The wait turned out to be longer than expected.
Anson ended up waiting in the stall for at least twenty minutes. The restroom had been busy, with people constantly coming and going. Clearly, tonight's crowd was larger than anticipated—good news for the film industry, but not for Anson.
Finally, when the restroom quieted down, Anson decided he'd waited long enough. He put on a baseball cap, pulled the brim low, and stepped out of the stall.
But just as he walked out, a group of friends came toward him.
Crap!
Anson quickly turned to the side, lowering his hat as he passed them. He caught snippets of their excited conversation, his name mentioned several times. Anson hurried his pace, glancing around the lobby, which was still dotted with people. He veered off course, heading toward the aquarium for cover.
Using the aquarium to shield himself from view, Anson finally allowed himself to breathe a little easier.
For now, he was safe.