章節 155: Deep brotherhood
Since the second-in-command had already made a move, it was definite that they wouldn't just target the third-in-command.
He understood his situation, but no one understood his madness.
Inside the police station, Morgan Freeman was reporting to his superior.
Suddenly, the phone rang.
The scene shifted, several officers responsible for monitoring Heath Ledger were all killed. Simultaneously, the lawyer of the third-in-command, Tom Cruise's deputy, and another police tactical team encountered assassins.
The news was relayed by an officer who was monitoring Tom's wife.
Morgan realized that the pieces were slipping from his grasp, understanding that the situation had escalated. He immediately led a team to the "Golden Gate Group" headquarters.
When they arrived, the scene was almost wrapped up.
Both sides had suffered heavy casualties.
Then, the elevator doors opened, and Nicolas Cage stumbled out, weakly leaning against the wall.
The six people in the elevator had already stopped breathing. This scene dumbfounded the police.
After meeting his superior, Tom was driving to the gang when he suddenly received a call saying his wife had died.
In that moment, the sorrow in his eyes seemed to explain whether he had ever truly cared.
Tom performed well here, of course, accomplishing all of this wasn't easy; this scene required 11 takes.
Following that, Nicolas was taken to the hospital by the police for treatment.
He glanced at him; tubes were connected all over his body. The former big brother appeared incredibly haggard.
He couldn't comprehend how everything had developed to this point.
With confusion in his heart, Morgan arranged to meet him in an abandoned factory.
He requested his help to have another gang member take over leadership and assist the police in eliminating the second-in-command.
Upon hearing this, he felt exhausted. He neither nodded nor shook his head; his attitude was already conveyed.
After leaving, he received a call: his big brother was critically ill.
He rushed to the hospital and upon seeing him, his big brother cleared the room of others, wanting to have a private chat.
"Hey, relax your expression a bit. Damn it, who's going to eat you?" Seeing Tom with a dead expression, Nicolas spoke teasingly, "I thought I'd never see you again, really damn glad."
"Big... big brother..." Tom was even more on the verge of collapse.
"Hey, brother, you look really tired, don't be like this..."
"Make a choice..."
"You bastard... what if, one in a million, I'm still alive, what will you do?"
Although his big brother's voice sounded weak, it carried immense weight to Tom's ears.
Suddenly, he understood that his big brother knew everything.
He looked into his eyes, and his big brother didn't avoid his gaze.
"Can you handle me? Idiot, remember, you have to be a bit ruthless in your heart. Only then can you survive. Go now, I'm really tired, need to rest."
...
Sunlight streamed through the window, illuminating Tom's face.
He slowly turned his head, and the halo shifted with it.
That day, he sat by the hospital bed for a long time, until the thick darkness of night enveloped everything...
This horizontal scroll-like long shot seemed to foreshadow something.
The interplay of light and darkness, the whole scene, was visually rich. Bold strokes and clear boundaries.
The rendering of the scene hit deep into the core of the plot, delivering a powerful impact.
Inside the screening room, silence reigned.
The audience stared at the screen in disbelief, still hoping for the tough guy to wake up. Those with keen perceptions and rich movie-watching experience were thoughtful: knowing everything, yet hiding it voluntarily, coupled with the police department's files being tampered with. There was only one conclusion: if all this isn't love...
The third-in-command truly treated his deputy as a brother.
Suddenly, the instruments buzzed. Due to his body's natural reaction, Nicolas struggled slightly, while Tom remained motionless. This juxtaposition of movement and stillness created an exceptionally cruel scene.
In the end, ashes to ashes, dust to dust. The third-in-command's eyes closed gently, his expression serene.
He was gone.
The scene shifted to memories.
Memories shared by the third-in-command and his deputy, of their struggles together in the gang.
Back then, when Tom had just become an undercover agent, even his big brother would get so nervous during turf wars that he had to visit the restroom twice.
They walked the streets together, supporting each other, which led to where they were today.
The music gradually swelled, its tune solemn.
On this night, no one knew what Tom was thinking.
He stood by the tall window of a skyscraper, overlooking the city's hustle and bustle, silently smoking...
"Take action." He made a phone call, but it wasn't clear to whom.
The plot unfolded into the film's climax.
The screen divided into four scenes, all pursuing the same goal: removing obstacles and eliminating threats.
This parallel storytelling technique greatly heightened the dramatic tension and provided an enjoyable experience for the audience.
Just like the hint the third-in-command gave before dying: since he was destined to be a gangster, why not become the biggest one, to control his own fate?
In the movie, all actions unfolded simultaneously.
The first one eliminated was the second-in-command; he knew he wouldn't live long, so he faced his fate with grace, sipping his wine and meeting his end with composure. The second one was Morgan, who knew the undercover agent's identity and couldn't stay alive either. After arranging to meet at an abandoned factory, he met his end; the third and fourth were both the police chief's superiors, they also knew the identities, but killing them openly wouldn't do, so a series of "accidents" like car crashes and fires were carefully planned to get rid of them.
Meanwhile, the "Golden Gate Group's" scheduled election assembly began.
Now, within the entire gang, there was no one more suitable than Tom for that position. Who else but him to take on the role of the leader?
Amidst fervent music, a large group of men in black suits pushed open the doors and marched in. They split into two columns and discreetly surrounded all the senior members of the gang present for the vote.
Then, amidst a sea of expectant and fearful gazes, Tom ascended the stage.
As he approached, a perceptive opportunist quickly spoke up, "Mr. Caden has applied for the position of the new gang leader. Does anyone object?"
While Speaking, a young gang member pulled back the seat at the top, and Tom calmly took his seat.
In his gaze, everyone lowered their heads in a show of respect.
The election's result was no surprise. Amidst a chorus of flattery, Tom ascended to the peak of power.
But in reality, he didn't feel much joy. Deep down, he didn't desire power or status. Yet, not occupying this position would forever shackle him.
At this moment, he thought back to many years ago when Morgan recruited him as an undercover agent.
"Ian Caden, born in Los Angeles. Your father was a cop, right?"
Back then, he was incredibly green, facing his superior's questions made him seem at a loss, and his answers stuttered, "Y-yes."
Morgan finished reading the file, tore it up, and, in Tom's perplexed gaze, lightly said, "Join me in doing something, something that suits you."
"What?"
...
Ian remembered when his big brother protected him while they fought on the streets. Although he was a cop, adept at close combat, street brawls were different.
For some reason, as he pondered, he suddenly smiled.
This smile was also the only one he displayed throughout the entire film.
On the screen, a long list of credits began scrolling, and the theater lights gradually brightened. The audience seemed to return to reality all of a sudden, frozen in various expressions, as if transitioning to a different world in an instant.
"Such a shame, commercial factors are still dominant." One member of the Italian group said regretfully, shaking his head.
In his view, if they removed all the unnecessary elements, from the lighting to the storytelling through the lens, this movie was genuinely good.
"The Cannes Film Festival has lost its essence. How could they treat a commercial movie like this?"
Is this still the art sanctuary everyone had in mind?
Voluntarily descending into decay.
Well, the films they brought for exhibition were all centered around family ethics, stories like a step-sister falling in love with me or tales that must be told about stepmothers...
In short, the plot revolved around sex and violence, and, of course, the Italian director loved to play around. It might not be that far off from France's intense artistic atmosphere, filled with various large-scale shots taken in reality.
Unfortunately, the organizing committee didn't hold them in high regard.
Clap, clap, clap...
After the movie ended, a few seconds passed before someone stood up and applauded. Soon after, the entire audience rose and clapped vigorously.
No one left. They thanked the movie, grateful for the dream the director had woven.
At times, audiences at film festivals were this adorable. They weren't stingy with their encouragement. Even if the movie didn't suit their taste, there were rarely scathing criticisms.
Lyman had encountered situations like this countless times. Still, he felt comfortable deep down, and shivers ran down his spine.
He loved making movies, that was it. He also loved having people support him, praising his work.
Suddenly, he felt like he should do something. He stood up, turned around, and waved towards the audience.
Those faces, some close, some far, were all so endearing, full of affirmation and appreciation.
Seeing the director waving, the applause grew even more fervent, washing over the large theater like waves.
Subsequently, a staff member brought a microphone, and Lyman stood to the side, ready to answer some questions from the press.
They didn't deliberately wait for the audience to disperse; they began quite casually.
Most of those gathered were local French media, with a few from neighboring countries like England, America, and Germany.
With experience in interviews, he was no longer as clueless as he had been at first.
Everyone chatted casually, much like having a casual chat.
Seeing foreign journalists praising the movie, the French journalists were particularly proud, as if they were tasting the sweetness of success.
For a director like Lyman, who had managed to make it big in Hollywood, the praise from French media had never ceased.
每周推薦票狀態
-- 推薦票
榜單 
-- 推薦票