The Greatest Showman
Chapter 149

The September breeze still carried the lingering heat and humidity of summer, yet it had begun to take on a hint of early autumn’s coolness. Mixed with the refreshing mist from Lake Ontario, it drifted gently through the air. The treetops were starting to show vibrant hues, and patches of red, yellow, and orange were emerging from the sea of green that blanketed the city. Waves of colour surged and boiled with intensity. Even the azure sky seemed to respond to this tide, as golden sunlight slowly flowed through the air, which was filled with a bright and pleasant atmosphere—one that made it hard to resist the urge to go outside, even if only for a stroll through the city square.

Compared to the hustle of New York or the sunshine of Los Angeles, Toronto had a laid-back ease and freedom. Elderly people walking their dogs moved along at a leisurely pace, always wearing friendly smiles. Pigeons surrounded children in the square, scrambling for pieces of bread. Business people in suits, briefcases in hand, would quickly step to the curb, hop onto bicycles in one motion, and ride off in style…

The sky, bright and clear as if freshly washed by a downpour, was now full of dazzling colours, and one couldn’t help but feel uplifted.

Today, Toronto was especially lively. The city was teeming with people as far as the eye could see—every corner was packed, shoulder to shoulder, with a constant flow of movement. It was as if all of North America had flooded into the city overnight. That may not have been literally true, but it wasn’t far off either, because today marked the official opening of the annual Toronto International Film Festival.

Although the Venice Film Festival was still in full swing, Toronto, thanks to its geographic advantage, easily attracted its neighbouring talent. Nearly every film aiming for success in the upcoming awards season made sure not to miss this event.

The Toronto International Film Festival is relatively young, having started in 1976. Its real rise to prominence has come only in the past two or three years. Beginning with Slumdog Millionaire, it gradually began to overtake Venice as the key launchpad for the North American awards season.

Canadians are famously polite—sometimes excessively so. “Sorry” and “Thank you” are constantly on their lips, no matter the circumstance. Americans often poke fun at this. The most well-known joke is about Black Friday: in the U.S., it’s a battlefield—people crash into stores even before the shutters are fully open, and shopping can be downright dangerous.

But in Canada, store employees line up in two rows to warmly welcome customers, who clap and salute as they enter in orderly queues. Even in a fight, Canadians might still say “Sorry”—that’s just who they are.

This tradition of politeness extends to the Toronto International Film Festival. Even the worst films receive a standing ovation from the audience as a form of encouragement. Compared to the aloof, cold, and harsh audiences of the three major European festivals, Toronto is like paradise. Even the film critics here are gentle—most movies screened at Toronto receive “positive” reviews, as if praise is in endless supply.

As a result, seasoned professionals know not to take this feedback too seriously. The real test comes when the films open in the U.S. market.

However, in such an approachable and friendly environment, it is the ideal setting for promotional strategies.

What’s more, unlike the globally prestigious three major European film festivals, Toronto has never focused on awards. Instead, it’s known for its large number of film screenings and primarily serves the market. It doesn’t need to put on a highbrow facade or struggle between art and commerce. Its ultimate goal is simple: to sell films.

This has made Toronto a prime hunting ground for independent distributors, attracting an increasing number of indie films in search of opportunity.

This year’s Toronto International Film Festival is no exception. Darren Aronofsky and Natalie Portman’s Black Swan, Mike Leigh’s Another Year, Tom Hooper and Colin Firth’s The King’s Speech, Nicole Kidman’s Rabbit Hole, and Ben Affleck’s The Town are all set to make their dazzling appearances over the next eleven days.

In fact, quite a few films have just come over from Venice—Norwegian Wood, Barney’s Version, Potiche, and Road to Nowhere, to name a few. From this perspective alone, it’s clear that the average quality of the 51 selected films this year is well worth noting.

This has also drawn journalists from all over North America, eager to gather firsthand information and prepare an early overview of the upcoming awards season. No one wants to miss such a grand occasion.

After settling his luggage in the hotel, Renly left and headed toward the main venue.

Though this was his second life, he had never even attended a concert before—let alone a grand event like a film or music festival. Renly’s steps involuntarily grew lighter. Andy hadn’t come with him this time. After all, Renly wasn’t his only client; Andy still had other work to handle and would only join him on the day of Buried’s premiere. Until then, Renly was completely free to enjoy the leisure of the film festival. He began to wonder which movie he should watch today, and what he might see tomorrow.

But the problem was—how should he find out what is screening today? Is he supposed to check the official website?

Despite his lack of experience, Renly quickly figured out the process—the program guide. Every film festival has its own guidebook, each with its unique yearly style. The guide includes not only the daily screening schedule but also media feedback for each film and short interviews with cast and crew.

Flipping through the guide, Renly quickly scanned the list of this year’s 51 official selections. He had already seen more than half of them. The rest he had never even heard of. After studying the cast and crew for each one, he realised that a large portion were Canadian films—understandable, since this was the home turf. Every year, the festival shows strong support for local films. For example, this year’s opening film came from Canadian creators.

Local director Michael McGowan teamed up with a number of Canadian musicians to present Score: A Hockey Musical, telling the story of Canada’s most beloved sport—hockey. You could say this film was Canadian to its core.

Even though Renly had already seen most of the selections, there were several he wanted to rewatch—especially in a cinema, seated among the audience, enjoying the works on the big screen. One such film was Incendies, directed by Denis Villeneuve.

Renly still remembered the shock and complexity he felt the first time he watched it. Later, this same director would go on to make Prisoners, Sicario, and Arrival—all brilliant films. Villeneuve is a master of using the camerawork and shot composition to build emotion and atmosphere. He magnifies the subtle details of actors’ performances, capturing the essence of their craft.

Films like that are a true pleasure to watch on the big screen.

Yesterday was the opening ceremony of the Toronto International Film Festival, with only Score: A Hockey Musical being screened. Today, the festival officially kicked off with its full schedule. Renly browsed the afternoon lineup and planned to watch the French animated film The Illusionist. This film had virtually no dialogue from beginning to end, yet it was as beautiful as an oil painting. If time allowed, he might also catch Biutiful…

As he pondered this, he turned around to buy tickets. But just as he turned, Renly suddenly found someone’s back shockingly close—only a hand’s breadth away from his own. It gave him quite a fright. The momentum of his turn threw his weight forward, and he was about to crash into the person. His muscles tensed instinctively, abruptly halting his movement. But before he could step back, the other person also took half a step backwards, leaving him no time to react. Renly had no choice but to reach out his hands to brace against the other’s back, avoiding a full-on collision.

With that, Renly managed to take a step back. Though his heart was still pounding, at least disaster was averted. The other person, having lost balance due to Renly’s touch, stumbled a step forward in a rather clumsy motion. She suddenly turned around—chestnut-brown tousled hair floated lightly in the air, and her bright, clear eyes gleamed with light. However, they were now filled with anger. Her voice, though restrained, carried a furious edge:
“What’s your problem?”

Renly frowned slightly. It was clearly a mutual mistake—he was at fault, yes, but so was she. Yet she was accusing him first? Still, Renly knew that in situations like this, it was hard to pin blame clearly, and arguing wouldn’t help. Out of gentlemanly courtesy, he offered a polite and apologetic smile.
“Sorry, that was my fault.”

Such a friendly and sincere apology seemed to defuse the tension. The woman hesitated for a moment, then gave a slight nod and said,
“Sorry, I was at fault too. I was a little distracted just now—I should’ve been watching where I was going.”

She raised her right hand to rub her temple. Her chestnut hair was tied in a bun, tucked under a black beret. Loose strands of hair fell down, partially covering her face, leaving only the outline of a strong, defined jawline faintly visible.

“Luckily, neither of us made a scene,” Renly said politely, attempting a lighthearted joke to ease the mood. But the woman didn’t smile, and the atmosphere quickly turned awkward again. Still, Renly didn’t mind. It was just a brief encounter. He nodded politely and was about to walk away.

Unexpectedly, at that moment, she seemed to spot something and suddenly ducked behind Renly in a flustered manner. Her petite frame barely reached Renly’s chest, making it easy for her to hide behind him. She gently tugged at the sleeve of his jacket, stopping him from leaving.

Renly was confused. He looked around but saw nothing unusual—
Was she hiding from someone?
Why did this feel like a scene from a movie?
Wasn’t this the Toronto International Film Festival?
Had he missed some important detail?

“Paparazzi!” the woman’s voice came from behind, slightly hoarse and tense, revealing a hint of the assertiveness buried deep in her nature even amid her panic.
“Please, cover me.”

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