novellhall Chapter 267 Attending Classes at USC? [5000]
Chapter 267 Attending Classes at USC? [5000]
Chapter 266 Back to USC for Classes? [5000] (Seeking Monthly Tickets)
Chen Xun stared at the email sent by Professor Anderson on the computer screen.
"Chen, I heard you have some free time lately."
"The drama school's 'Acting in Front of the Camera' lecturer has taken maternity leave this semester, and I need someone to cover the remaining eight weeks of the course."
"Two classes a week, three hours each, with about forty students from both second and third year undergraduate programs."
"I know this sounds a bit sudden, but considering you just came from a project of the caliber of 'The Ancient One,' with the latest experience in commercial filmmaking, it will be a valuable sharing for the students."
"Teaching is a great way to reflect. After I hit a wall on Broadway, I went back to school and taught for two years. That period had a profound influence on my later creative work."
"Don't feel pressured. I'm not asking you to talk about theory. The main thing is to bring practical experience, such as script analysis, on-camera adaptation, and character building. You can use your own methods."
"The pay is based on part-time lecturer standards, not high, but enough to cover gas and coffee costs. If you're interested, come to my office at 2 PM on Thursday to chat."
The signature is Professor Anderson.
Chen Xun leaned back in his chair, somewhat lost in thought.
Teaching?
He had never considered this option in his entire life.
Professor Anderson did indeed help him get his diploma and even introduced him to Spielberg.
Now you want him to stand on the other side of the podium?
My phone suddenly vibrated.
It's Robert.
"Did Professor Anderson contact you?"
Rob cut to the chase: "He just called me and said he'd like to invite you to teach at USC. He asked about your availability, and I said you're actually taking a break. Are you really going?"
"What do you think?" Chen Xun asked in return.
"From a public relations perspective, this is a good idea."
Rob analyzed: "You need to keep a low profile now, but you can't disappear completely. Going to teach at a prestigious university shows that you are thoughtful and ambitious, not the kind of celebrity who hides away when something happens."
"Moreover, USC's School of Drama is highly regarded in the industry, and this experience looks great on a resume."
"From my personal perspective?"
"You'll be asked all sorts of strange questions by a bunch of kids in their early twenties."
Rob seemed to be recalling those scenes, and laughed heartily: "Like what it felt like to kiss Jennifer, or how good Marvel's boxed lunches are."
"But honestly, Professor Anderson wouldn't do anything to you. Since he's brought it up, he must think it's in your best interest."
Chen Xun thought for a moment and replied to the email: "Professor, I will arrive at 2 PM on Thursday."
Then he texted Christine: "I got a temporary lecturer job at USC, teaching acting."
An hour later, Christine replied: "It's good, teaching calms you down."
At 1:50 p.m. on Thursday, Chen Xun parked his car in the parking lot downstairs at the USC School of Drama.
He was wearing a simple dark gray knit sweater and jeans.
He wasn't wearing sunglasses or a baseball cap.
Trying to act like a celebrity at school will only make you look ridiculous.
On his way upstairs, he encountered several students. Some of them recognized him, their eyes widening as they whispered to their companions, "Is that Chen Xun?"
"7
"It seems so!"
"How did he end up here?"
Chen Xunchong and the others nodded and walked straight to Professor Anderson's office.
The door was open, and Anderson was making coffee.
The professor, in his sixties, had gray hair but stood upright, wearing a woolen coat and khaki pants.
Every time Chen Xun saw Professor Anderson, he felt his heart calm down.
It was as if this professor, who taught at USC, possessed a magical power.
"Very punctual!"
Anderson looked up at him, smiled, and said, "Come in and sit down."
-
The office was small, filled with books and scripts, and the walls were covered with various theater posters, from Shakespeare to Tennessee Williams.
There is a small round table and two chairs by the window.
Anderson handed him a cup of coffee: "Black coffee, no sugar. I remember you used to drink this in class."
"You still remember?" Chen Xun took it.
"I remember every student who had potential."
Anderson sat down in his old leather chair: "Especially those who ran away halfway through."
Chen Xun knew he was talking about dropping out of school: "Back then, I felt I learned more on set than in the classroom."
"And now?"
"Now I feel that both are necessary."
Chen Xun was deeply moved.
He constantly absorbs attribute orbs, which is essentially like attending a class, only with a different teacher.
Anderson nodded and took out a course outline from his drawer: "Acting in Front of the Camera. This course mainly helps students transition from the stage to the screen. Stage performances need to be amplified, while film and television performances need to be restrained."
"Many kids don't understand this difference, and when they act in movies, they still use theatrical voices, which is a headache for viewers."
Chen Xun flipped through the outline; the content was indeed very practical.
Training includes camera presence, micro-expression control, adjusting the rhythm of lines, and even how to imagine performing in front of a green screen.
"I have one class each on Thursday afternoon and Friday morning, each lasting three hours."
Anderson: "There are still eight weeks left in this semester. You need to finish teaching. I will sit in the back and listen to your classes, but I won't interfere with your teaching unless you go too far."
Do you think I can speak well?
Chen Xun was somewhat uneasy.
I've spent my whole life teaching classes; aside from tutoring Kate in foreign languages, I've never actually taught anyone else.
"If you can act well, you can tell a good story."
Anderson took a sip of coffee: "Acting is a craft, and crafts are best taught by people who are still working."
"I taught theory for thirty years, but the last time I stood in front of the camera was fifteen years ago."
"You just came from a project like 'The Ancient One,' which cost hundreds of millions to produce. You know how things actually work on a film set now, and you know the requirements that an industry like Marvel places on actors. These are the things that students need most, but textbooks can't provide."
Chen Xun was silent for a moment: "But I've never taught before, so I might mess it up."
"Teaching is not a lecture, it's a dialogue."
Anderson said, "You don't need to dump all your knowledge on them; you just need to ask the right questions and guide them to find the answers themselves."
"Just like a director guiding actors —"
"This is something you're good at!"
He pushed the timetable over: "The first class starts next Thursday. Here's the classroom key, and here's the login account for the teaching system. It contains the student list and past course recordings. You have a whole week to prepare."
Chen Xun took the key and the note.
Anderson looked at him: "I know what you've been going through lately."
"Hollywood is a magnifying glass; it magnifies both good and bad things."
"Going back to school is a buffer. The pace is slower here, and people are simpler. I can take this opportunity to think carefully about what I want next."
"You've heard about it?" Chen asked.
"Photogate?"
"certainly!"
Anderson said calmly, "I have a student who is a lawyer, and she participated in a class-action lawsuit, but Chen, you have to remember that in Hollywood, scandals are just noise; what truly remains is the work."
"The box office and critical acclaim of 'The Ancient One' have already proven your ability. Now you need your next project, and teaching might help you find it."
As Chen Xun left the office, he encountered several students in the corridor.
This time, a bold girl walked straight up and asked, "Senior Chen Xun, Professor Anderson said you'll be teaching a class, is that true?"
Chen Xun was stunned for a moment before realizing that someone was calling him.
Senior brother?
He hadn't heard that title in a long time.
"It's true."
"Starting next week."
"Wow!"
The girl's eyes lit up: "Then can we ask questions about 'The Ancient One'?"
"For example, how were the Ancient One's handprints designed? And was it really that cold filming in Iceland?"
"You can ask questions in class."
Chen Xun said, "As long as it's related to acting."
"That's so cool!"
The girl ran back and high-fived her friend.
Looking at the excited expressions of the group of young people, Chen Xun suddenly understood why Anderson had called him here.
Here, he is not Chen Xun from the photo scandal, nor is he a scumbag who cheats on multiple women.
He's just an actor who recently stepped off a big-budget film set, and a lecturer who can share his practical experience.
This feeling is really great!
Back home, Chen Xun logged into the teaching system via an external network link.
There are forty names on the student list.
Most of them are between twenty and twenty-two years old, some with a background in drama, and some are complete novices.
The system contains recordings of their previous work.
Monologue exercises, scene clips, and even short films that I made myself.
Chen Xun clicked on each one to read.
Some actors' performances were overly dramatic, while others were too reserved, and some simply didn't know where the camera was.
Anderson is right; the transition between stage and camera angles is indeed a challenge.
He opened his notebook and began to plan the content for the first lesson.
I'm not going to talk about too much theory; I'll start with the most practical stuff.
How to walk in front of the camera.
It sounds simple, but many actors can't even walk normally in front of the camera.
They're either stiff like robots or exaggerated like models on a runway.
The camera magnifies every detail; the curvature of the shoulders, the swing of the arms, and the point where the gaze falls all need to be adjusted.
Just as he was organizing his thoughts, several lines of semi-transparent text suddenly appeared in the air in front of him:
[The system detected that the host is systematically reviewing and organizing their performance experience.]
[Triggering a mutual learning mechanism]
[Experience review begins————]
Chen Xun: ? ? ?
Even the panel prompts appeared.
Is he really going to become a teacher?
He continued to recall his filming experiences over the years, with fragments flashing through his mind.
Playing Fandral in "Thor" gave him his first profound understanding of acting in front of a green screen.
[Successfully extracted green screen conviction experience]
[Gain Attribute Orb: Virtual Scene Immersion +15]
Chen Xun blinked.
This is useful!
continue!
Then came *Green Lantern*, *Fast & Furious*, and *The Hunger Games*.
As Chen Xun began to recall, the attribute orbs started falling continuously:
[Successfully extracted experience in impromptu reaction ability]
[Gain Attribute Ball: Adaptability +12]
[Successfully extracted the internal logic and experience of the action performance]
[Gained Attribute Orb: Body Language Narrative Skill +18]
Chen Xun absorbed all the falling attribute orbs in one go.
The sphere of light transformed into tiny specks of light that merged into the body.
A wonderful feeling arose spontaneously.
It's like piecing together scattered puzzle pieces into a complete picture.
Previously, these experiences were just vague feelings, but now, after being sorted out by the system, they have become clear and usable capabilities.
He continued preparing his lesson, and this time his thoughts were much clearer.
He used several movie clips as examples.
Robert De Niro's composed entrance into the café in *Heat*, Tony Leung's lingering in the corridor in *In the Mood for Love*, and his own footsteps in the Kamar-Taj courtyard in *The Ancient One*—
Each character has a different way of moving.
Besides walking, we can also talk about sight.
Where an actor's eyes look determines where the audience looks.
In "The Ancient One," when the Ancient One was teaching Karuru, his gaze was always half a beat ahead of his hand gestures, guiding the audience to notice his intentions first and then see the effect of the actions.
And the breathing rhythm.
Different characters breathe differently.
When nervous, breathing is shallow and rapid; when deep in thought, breathing is long and deep; and there is a brief moment of breath-holding before an outburst.
The panel will flash once for each point that is scanned.
Although no more attribute balls fell, Chen Xun could feel that his understanding of performance was gradually becoming more systematic.
It turns out that teaching really can help me grow.
In order to teach others, you must first clarify what you know.
Around 10 p.m., Robert called.
"How's the teaching material preparation going, Teacher Chen?"
Robert joked.
"Still working on it!"
Chen Xun rubbed his eyes, looking at the densely packed notes in his notebook: "Suddenly, I feel like being a teacher is more tiring than acting!"
"Acting only requires managing yourself, but teaching requires managing forty people and making sure they all understand."
"That's normal. When I first became an agent, I couldn't even understand the budget sheet. I stayed up all night for three days to learn it."
Rob said, "There's been a new development in Jennifer's case. The FBI arrested two members of a hacking group in Latvia and they're being extradited. Rachel's lawyer said there might be someone willing to make a deal to identify the mastermind behind it."
"What about Michael?"
"There is no direct evidence yet, but the prosecution is investigating his fund flows to see if he made any additional transfers to the hackers."
Robert paused for a moment, then said, "Don't worry about any of that. Focus on teaching. Professor Anderson is right; you need to get away from the center of the storm now."
"I know."
After hanging up the phone, Chen Xun glanced at his phone.
Kristen posted a set photo on Instagram, showing her in heavy costume standing in a desolate area, captioned: "The wind is strong enough to blow me back to Los Angeles."
Chen Xun gave it a thumbs up.
Thursday at 1:45 PM.
Chen Xun stood at the door of classroom 307 on the third floor of the drama academy.
There were already more than twenty people in the classroom, mostly young people around eighteen or nineteen years old, wearing hoodies and jeans. Some were looking down at their phones, while others were chatting quietly.
The window was open, and the Los Angeles sunlight slanted in, with dust particles swirling in the beams of light.
Chen Xun took a deep breath and pushed the door open to go inside.
The chat stopped abruptly.
All eyes turned to him.
"good afternoon!"
He placed his backpack on the podium and took out his laptop and water bottle: "I am Chen Xun, and I will be teaching the remaining eight weeks of the 'Acting in Front of the Camera' course this semester."
The classroom was silent for two seconds.
Then a suppressed commotion arose.
Some people exchanged glances, while others quietly raised their phones, only to quickly put them down as if remembering something.
Chen Xun ignored all of that, plugged in the computer, and turned on the projector.
The first slide appeared on the screen, with white background and black text, containing only one line: "Lesson 1: How to Walk Normally in Front of the Camera".
"puff!"
One of the students couldn't help but burst out laughing.
Chen Xun looked up in the direction of the sound and saw a boy wearing a baseball cap.
The boy quickly covered his mouth, his shoulders still shaking.
"It's normal to find it funny."
Chen Xun earnestly lectured: "The first time I joined a film crew, the director simply asked me to walk from the left side of the camera to the right side, it was that simple."
.
"I did it three times, and the director yelled 'cut' three times. He said I looked like I was going to a funeral, that I was too stiff."
"The fourth time, I walked too lightly, like a runway model. In the end, he gave up and said, 'Just imagine you're looking for the restroom in a supermarket.'"
Laughter erupted in the classroom.
The tense atmosphere that had been eased by his arrival relaxed somewhat.
"So today we won't talk about Stanislavski or the methodological school; we'll just address the most practical problem."
"Why don't you walk like a normal person in front of the camera!"
Chen Xun clicked on the next slide, which showed screenshots of several movie clips: "Let's look at a few examples first."
He played a 30-second clip from "Heat" showing Robert De Niro walking into a coffee shop.
De Niro's steps were steady, his shoulders relaxed, and his gaze naturally swept across the space as he entered.
"Watch his shoulder."
Chen Xun paused the video: "He didn't deliberately puff out his chest, nor did he hunch his back. His center of gravity was in the middle, which made his walking very natural."
He then played a clip from "In the Mood for Love" showing Tony Leung wandering in a corridor.
His steps were slow, each one hesitant, and the slight forward lean conveyed a suppressed longing.
"Although both characters are walking, this one is stalling for time. His feet land very lightly, as if afraid of disturbing something."
"Rhythm is key!"
Finally, he played a clip from "The Ancient One" showing himself walking through the courtyard of Kamar-Taj.
The Ancient One's steps were steady and solemn, carrying an ancient rhythm.
After the clip finished playing, a girl sitting in the front row raised her hand: "Teacher Chen Xun, when Gu Yi walks, is the position of his hands designed? It looks like he's making hand seals."
"He observed very carefully."
"9
Chen Xun nodded and smiled at the girl who asked the question.
The girl's face flushed red, and her eyes were filled with excitement.
"That shot was indeed designed."
"The Ancient One's hands are always kept at her waist, with her fingers slightly bent, ready to activate magic at any time."
"But this detail isn't for aesthetics, it's for the character."
"A monk who has lived for hundreds of years, his body is always in a state of readiness."
The girl's eyes lit up as she quickly scribbled notes in her notebook.
"Talking too much about theory is useless."
Chen Xun turned off the projector: "Everyone, stand up now."
The students looked at each other in bewilderment.
But they still got up one after another, the chair legs scraping against the floor with a harsh sound.
"Push the chair against the wall to clear a space in the middle."
Chen Xun himself stepped down from the podium: "Let's do an exercise."
He prepared his lesson very late yesterday, and now he's just testing the waters.
"This exercise is very simple."
Chen Xun stood in the center of the open space, with forty students forming a semicircle around him: "I will give you a scenario, and you will express it by walking. There is no need for exaggerated performances, just the most ordinary walking, but you must let the audience see what state you are in through your gait."
He looked at the boy in the baseball cap: "Start with you."
"You just stayed up all night in the library to finish your paper, and it's 7 a.m. now. You need to walk back to your dorm to sleep."
The boy was stunned for a moment.
He walked to one end of the open space and tried taking a few steps.
Sluggish steps, slumped shoulders, head bowed —
A typical state of fatigue.
"That's too much acting."
Chen Xun interrupted him: "The way you're walking right now is telling the audience that I'm very tired."
"But the truth is, when someone hasn't slept all night, their fatigue is ingrained in every movement, not something they deliberately show."
"Let's do it one more time. This time, forget you're performing and just think about going back to sleep."
The boy walked it again.
This time it's much better.
Although the steps were still heavy, the deliberate performance was gone.
"A little better."
Chen Xun nodded: "Next!"