NBC Television Station, Live Broadcast —
Signaled by the crew, Anson didn't rush to take the stage but stood still, adjusting his breathing and making sure he was fully prepared.
Then, he started walking.
Confident, composed, as if stepping onto the runway of Paris Fashion Week.
Clap, clap, clap.
Polite applause surged, but it wasn't wild, creating a stark contrast with the earlier backstage commotion.
The guests in the banquet hall needed to present a polished and graceful image in front of the live cameras. All their passion and enthusiasm were reserved for the award winners. They didn't have any extra energy for a presenter—
That's normal.
After all, presenters aren't the main attraction.
Especially not when it's Anson.
Seeing Anson stand under the spotlight again, in his unorthodox suit, stirred memories that hadn't yet faded.
A subtle vibe filled the air — a feeling of scrutiny, as if they were watching a screen test, assessing his every move.
The applause, brief and polite, quickly died down, leaving an air of quiet as countless eyes focused on Anson.
Calm and unhurried, Anson stood straight at the floor mic, took a momentary pause, then smiled.
"Music is an essential part of any film. It creates atmosphere and helps the audience feel the emotions conveyed by the visuals."
"The same scene and characters can evoke completely different emotions with a different soundtrack. That's one of the magic elements of film."
"For example—"
The first half of his speech was standard, just the lines written by the award show's scriptwriters, guiding the audience through the introduction of the award category—
And that was it.
With an award like Best Original Score, it's often hard to inject humor. Even if the presenter wanted to show off some charm, it's a tough task.
Anson's performance… was predictable. No surprises, no mistakes. That was it. The atmosphere in the banquet hall remained completely calm.
Heh, is this a shock?
Of course not, it was expected. A pretty face, what more can you hope for? From his red carpet fashion choices, you could tell it was all about grabbing attention with flashy looks.
That's all.
The reality is, audiences fall for it — just look at the box office of "Catch Me If You Can." But in a place like Hollywood, insiders are a different breed. They're not so easily impressed.
Good-looking?
Come on, this is Hollywood. There's never a shortage of handsome guys and beautiful women.
Alright, now it's time to announce the winner for Best Original Score.
But then—
Amidst all the scrutinizing gazes, Anson changed his tone.
"For example—"
Music started playing—
Wait… wasn't that the classic score from the "Tom and Jerry" cartoons?
Wait, what?
Tap, tap, tap.
The guests in the banquet hall thought there was a technical error, like the wrong music was playing. Their attention wavered slightly. But before they could figure out what was happening, their eyes were drawn to the figure on stage.
Anson was dancing.
It was the iconic dance sequence from "Singin' in the Rain."
Light and graceful steps, smooth and free-flowing movements.
A whirlwind of footwork timed perfectly with the lively cartoon music, spinning away and then sliding back to the mic.
In just three or five seconds.
The audience barely had time to react before Anson was back at the mic, with a slightly puzzled look toward the award show director.
"Uh, this wasn't part of our plan."
"Tom and Jerry" paired with "Singin' in the Rain," a hilarious cartoon score mixed with tap dance. Two completely different styles clashing together.
The effect… was simply hilarious.
But that wasn't all.
Without missing a beat, the music started again, this time—
Laughter spread quietly through the banquet hall. The score was from the most intense, spine-tingling part of "Jaws," widely recognized and deeply iconic.
And Anson?
Jazz hands!
With both hands spread, elbows bent at his sides, his arms opened wide as he shook his hands in classic jazz dance fashion.
Smart guests instantly caught the reference and drew the right conclusion.
"Chicago"!
Sure enough, they were right.
Anson performed a routine from the movie "Chicago," which reignited the golden era of musical films this year. The audience immediately lit up.
His posture, movements, facial expressions, and the twinkle in his eyes were spot-on.
To be fair, professionals could tell right away that Anson had just crammed to learn the routine. His technique was shaky, his basics not refined. It was all just for show. He clearly wasn't a pro.
But none of that mattered—
Because the score was from "Jaws."
Even with all the professionalism and passion Anson put into his jazz routine, there was still that faint scent of fishiness. Something was hilariously off, making the whole thing feel awkward yet entertaining.
At that moment, who could pay attention to the details of Anson's dance?
Smiles had already crept up on everyone's faces.
The jazz dance went on a bit longer, but only for about four eight-counts. Anson returned to the mic. Before he could speak, the next piece of music began playing, half a beat late.
"No, no—"
But this time, Anson didn't dance again. He stood at the mic, gripping it with both hands, looking serious, as if shifting instantly into a formal mode—
Lip-syncing rap.
Because this time, the soundtrack was Eminem's "8 Mile," the semi-autobiographical movie's title track, which was also a favorite this award season.
Although Anson couldn't keep up with Eminem's level of rapping, nor the lyrics, the key was that he had the attitude, the gestures, and the expression.
He practically became Eminem.
After four more eight-counts, Anson stood tall, holding an imaginary mic in his right hand. Then, he released it, mimicking the gesture of dropping the mic.
Thud.
Even though there was no actual mic, the sound system played a soft thud, signaling the end of the performance with a perfect closing note.
Buzz.
It was like a stone had been dropped into a calm pond, ripples spreading rapidly.
The entire room was stunned—
No one had expected this, not at all. Anson had put on a show using mismatched music and dance styles to showcase the impact of scores in film, more directly and powerfully than any speech could.
For a moment, no one knew how to react. Minds went blank.
This scene, visually and aurally, shattered everyone's expectations.
Anson, with his long limbs and lack of formal dance training, still moved with beautiful lines. And in that suit, his suave and sharp appearance took everyone by surprise, stealing the spotlight before anyone could react.
On stage, bathed in bright lights, it felt as though a spotlight followed Anson wherever he moved.
The mix of confusion and awe left everyone stunned. Before they could criticize or sneer, they were already swept into the storm, their minds momentarily blank, as if everything had just—
Wait, what just happened? Something felt a bit off, didn't it?