Chapter 152: "Now That Is a Protagonist"

No matter how much Chef Huang had fantasized, he ultimately had to face the results—the final outcome of his two nominations.

In the end, it was a regretful conclusion. He failed to secure the awards for Best New Director and Best Foreign Language Film, leaving him with nothing but the nominations as a consolation.

The moment Chef Huang learned the results, his heart felt unexpectedly calm. He had already prepared himself for this outcome; after all, this was his first film. For a novice director, receiving a nomination at the Cannes International Film Festival was already a remarkable achievement. Most importantly, Chef Huang had learned a great deal while making the film, which was what mattered most. As long as he gained knowledge from the experience, that was the greatest reward.

He just needed to keep making films, one after another, and he would eventually reach the heights he aspired to. After all, very few people reach their peak with their very first movie; growth is a step-by-step process. Not everyone is like Jiang Wen, who turned every film he made into a legendary masterpiece. If it were that easy for everyone, geniuses wouldn't be called geniuses.

Jiang Wen practically achieved legendary status with his debut, "In the Heat of the Sun," and even catapulted a newcomer into becoming the youngest Best Actor. With a cast of rookie actors and a rookie director, winning Best Actor at an international film festival with a debut feature was a story more absurd than any fiction. Moreover, none of his subsequent films were disappointments; even his weakest work remained well above average. Reality is often more incredible than fiction, as no writer would dare pen a story where a director wins an international Best Actor award with their first film.

Zhou Ran, Chef Huang, and Zhang Xiaofeng simply had to sit back in their seats, observe the remaining awards, and continue to learn.

As the minor awards were concluded, the Cannes International Film Festival moved on to its main event: the announcement of the nominees and winners for Best Actor and Best Actress. These were, by all accounts, the most significant awards of the festival and the ones that commanded the most attention from the media.

Compared to these, Zhou Ran’s Best Newcomer award was a mere trifle, completely incomparable in terms of prestige.

As the Best Actor category was presented, each of the four nominees was a figure of significant standing in the film industry. Zhou Ran couldn't even begin to compare; any one of them was someone from whom he needed to humbly learn. When the big screen began playing clips from their nominated films, Zhou Ran finally understood where the gap lay. Every person’s performance on screen was a masterclass in acting.

Zhou Ran had initially felt his performance in the *Whiplash* crew was decent, but after witnessing their work, he understood the true disparity. A single glance from them allowed the audience to immediately grasp exactly what they were trying to express, without the need for any dialogue or physical action.

When Zhou Ran acted, he still relied on gestures and lines to convey emotion. If he relied solely on his eyes, he risked failing to convey the nuance. There is a saying that for true actors, one can understand their intent just by looking into their eyes; their eyes are filled with the story itself.

Under the gaze of the world, the Best Actor of this year’s Cannes International Film Festival was finally announced: Alidin from the United States. Zhou Ran had initially found the name unfamiliar, as he hadn't deeply researched the man’s background.

However, after a brief introduction from Chef Huang, Zhou Ran finally understood the man’s brilliance. Alidin was the quintessential genius actor. He was a terrifying talent who had won Best Newcomer for a film he shot during his summer vacation. His acting career had been smooth sailing; every film he participated in had excellent box office returns, and he had never encountered a bottleneck. He had played the lead role in his very first film, surrounded by the adoration of the industry.

This Cannes Best Actor award marked the fourth international Best Actor trophy for Alidin. He had now swept the top honors at the world’s three major film festivals; the only thing missing was the highest accolade in American cinema.

If he could secure that, he would achieve a true grand slam. And he was only in his thirties, with endless opportunities ahead in his career.

Upon learning of Alidin’s accomplishments, Zhou Ran was truly stunned. He felt as if this was what a real protagonist was supposed to be like; compared to him, Zhou Ran felt as if he hardly amounted to anything at all.

As Alidin took the stage, all the guests in the venue broke into thunderous applause. It was far more enthusiastic than the reception Zhou Ran had received for his Best Newcomer award.

Zhou Ran silently set a goal for himself: he would one day surpass Alidin, who stood on stage speaking with such high spirits. He wanted a day to come when he, too, could stand on that stage and deliver an acceptance speech under the eyes of the world.

The moment Alidin won Best Actor, the internet exploded. A deluge of headlines flooded in from every direction. The scale of this publicity was vastly more overwhelming than the coverage Zhou Ran had received, instantly burying any news about him and surging to the top of the Weibo trending list.

The news of Alidin’s win was global, whereas Zhou Ran’s impact was limited mostly to China or Asia. Abroad, the response was lukewarm, leaving only a fleeting impression—just enough for people to know that a person named Zhou Ran existed.