The film had ended five minutes ago and, even so, in the Grand Théâtre Lumière the applause showed no signs of dying down.
Everyone on their feet, applauding with growing intensity.
Owen kept turning, greeting different sections along with the rest of the cast, thanking them again and again. His right arm was already starting to feel heavy, so he switched to the other.
Derek and the others were the same, though more overwhelmed.
Derek's eyes were glistening. For him, as a director, this was a dream. He hugged several people, including Owen, without hiding it.
Jacob, Emma, Bryan... still processing what was happening.
"It's cinema!" Eric shouted, raising both hands, while Tyler pointed the camera at him and smiled.
"It was!" Caleb replied, just as excited. He hadn't had a big role, but he had been there.
Gaten, with bright eyes, hugged him, giving him a couple of firm pats on the back.
"Great film, dad," Maya said, applauding right behind Ethan's seat.
"Thanks," Ethan replied, with a sincere smile, without that usual formality.
"Man, I didn't know Bryan could act like that!" Eric commented, still surprised. For him, the reference was still Hal, the chaotic and funny father from Malcolm in the Middle.
"Yeah," Matt said without stopping clapping. "And Owen too."
As a close friend of Owen, he had read parts of the script, he knew it was good, but seeing it on screen was completely different. He had never seen him take it to that level. Honestly, it was his best performance so far, and with a clear difference from the previous ones, though there weren't many.
And it wasn't that what came before was bad. But this was another level. As if only now he had finally had the material to truly show his acting range.
"The indie genius has done it again!" Maya blurted out.
Several laughed.
Owen turned his head toward her. "I heard that," he said.
Maya immediately raised her hands. "I was just joking," she said quickly, provoking a few more laughs, which were still drowned out by the applause filling the entire hall.
'I knew it was the right choice,' Lianne thought, overwhelmed, but happy. She had been the first producer Owen hired, even taking a pay cut to be able to join the project.
The applause had already gone on for more than eight minutes. That alone was a very strong reception. And it didn't seem to be stopping.
'Come on… that's enough,' Owen thought when nine minutes passed.
He was at the center, with more than two thousand people looking at him, applauding non-stop. The spotlight pointed directly at his area, the rest of the cast nearby, everything too much, too close.
At first it was emotion.
Now it was starting to feel uncomfortable even for someone as composed as him.
Finally, at eleven minutes and a few seconds, maybe already brushing twelve, the applause began to die down until it disappeared.
The festival staff approached and indicated the exit. In Official Competition there was no Q&A at the main premiere.
Owen lowered his gaze slightly and turned back. His mother was right in the row behind.
Elizabeth was still looking at him, emotional, her eyes moist. Owen extended his arm toward her, without saying anything. He made a small gesture, inviting her to take it.
He saw how moved she was and didn't want to leave her there.
Elizabeth hesitated for just a second, surprised, and then took her son's hand. Together, they joined the movement of the cast and headed backstage.
With fewer eyes on them now, Elizabeth couldn't hold back and hugged him tightly. "I'm so proud of you, sweetheart."
Owen returned the hug. "Thanks, Mom."
Elizabeth pulled back slightly, looking at him closely. For a moment, she saw him as when he was a child, acting in small plays, and now he had just been applauded by more than two thousand people, among them filmmakers and actors recognized all over the world.
She couldn't help it.
She gave him a couple of kisses on the cheeks and one on the forehead, not worrying too much about anything else.
Owen laughed, letting her, understanding what it meant for her, who had always supported the dream of the previous Owen despite the difficulties.
They kept walking. For a moment, however, something crossed his mind. He thought about the original Owen.
And he couldn't avoid an uncomfortable feeling.
Was he occupying a life that didn't belong to him?
Was that pride really for him?
He glanced sideways at his mother, still emotional, and internally shook his head.
Feeling guilty didn't make much sense.
The original Owen had died because of his own decisions.
He, without fully understanding how, had simply taken control of the body right after.
He hadn't chosen it.
And, being honest, this was better. Even for the one who had been there before.
What would the original Owen have preferred?
For his family to be shattered, crying over his death, remembering him for what he last became? Or to see them proud like now?
Owen couldn't keep philosophizing about that, because right at that moment Jenna took him by the arm and pulled him closer to her decisively.
She kissed him without saying anything, and with quite a bit of intensity.
Jenna pulled back slightly and looked him in the eyes. "I'm proud too," she said.
Owen smiled faintly. "I was waiting for that reward… you took your time," he murmured just for her.
"It would have been a bit awkward to do it in front of everyone," Jenna replied, shaking her head.
Owen nodded. It was true.
"It would've looked good for the vlog," he added in a lighter tone.
"Walk, Mr. vlogger, they're leaving us behind," Jenna said with a soft sigh, pushing him.
They rejoined the group. On the way out, there were post-screening photos and very quick interviews with selected media.
After that, the night didn't end.
There was an official after-party organized by Neon at the Hotel Martinez. Open bar, music at a moderate volume, and an atmosphere more focused on conversation than celebration.
In the case of Good Will Hunting, the film already had a distributor. It wasn't like others in Competition that were still looking for a buyer. But networking was still key.
It helped Owen. There were directors, producers, important critics, and several celebrities who had attended the premiere.
Among them, Martin Scorsese.
This time the meeting was different from the one in the bathroom. More formal, with the chance to talk for several minutes and with more seriousness. It wasn't anything concrete, but enough to leave something in place for the future.
Owen didn't know if Scorsese was going to win the Oscar with Killers of the Flower Moon. But regardless of whether he did or not, he wanted to work with him.
He had three films very clearly in mind that he wanted to bring into this reality at some point: Taxi Driver, The Wolf of Wall Street, and The Departed.
And for that, no one better than the very director who made them in another world and had already proven what he was capable of.
Only here, Owen, as writer and financier, would also have a leading role. He doubted that would be a problem. Scorsese had congratulated him on his performance as Will, even showing a certain surprise, as if he hadn't expected that level.
Even so, beyond how positive the networking had been and how everything had turned out, what stayed with him most from that conversation was something simpler. The first comment Scorsese made to him at the after-party when they shook hands:
"You've made cinema, kid."
The party was packed. An ovation of more than ten minutes only happens with the best films of the festival, so many people were there.
Owen received quite a lot of attention. For his role as Will and for being the writer. For many, he had shown a level that put him in serious awards conversation in both areas.
Several actors and actresses approached him. Not all were huge names, but they weren't unknown either. People who wanted to talk, congratulate him, and make a good impression.
That said a lot. Because the perception of Owen was no longer the same.
The night ended around three in the morning. Owen and Jenna returned to their room at the hotel. They went to sleep a bit later than planned.
The next day, the first reviews of the film were already available.
📰 Variety
'Good Will Hunting' Review: Owen Asfhord Delivers a Star-Making Turn in a Crowd-Pleasing Cannes Debut
A classic character drama powered by two awards-caliber performances from Owen Asfhord and Bryan Cranston earns one of the festival's longest ovations.
By Peter Debruge May 22, 2023 — 7:01 AM
CANNES — In a festival often defined by formal experimentation, Good Will Hunting stands out for a different reason: it works.
Owen's dual role as writer and lead actor proves more than a novelty. His performance, at once volatile and deeply internal, marks a significant step forward from his earlier work, revealing a level of control and emotional precision that few expected at this stage of his career.
Opposite him, Cranston delivers one of the most grounded performances of the competition, anchoring the film with a quiet authority that allows the dialogue-heavy script to breathe.
That script, also penned by Asfhord, leans into familiar territory, favoring character over structure and emotional payoff over narrative risk. Some may find it conventional by Cannes standards.
But in execution, it's difficult to deny its impact.
The film received an ovation lasting over 10 minutes at its premiere, placing it among the strongest audience reactions of the festival so far.
…
📰 Deadline
Cannes Reaction: 'Good Will Hunting' Sparks Extended Ovation, Positions Asfhord As Serious Awards Contender
Actor-writer-producer Owen Asfhord and Bryan Cranston deliver standout performances in a film that may not reinvent the wheel, but turns it with confidence.
By Pete Hammond, May 22, 2023 — 7:05 AM
CANNES — You could feel it shift midway through the screening.
Good Will Hunting received one of the longest ovations of the festival, lasting over 10 minutes, and immediately entered the awards conversation.
Owen, already known for his success in the independent circuit, confirms here that he is much more than a one-project phenomenon. His performance is intense without falling into exaggeration, building emotional moments that impacted an audience of two thousand three hundred people.
His only drawback is that it doesn't break conventions in the way Cannes juries sometimes prefer. However, in a year in which many films struggle to connect with audiences, this one clearly does.
…
📰 The Hollywood Reporter
'Good Will Hunting' Review: Owen Asfhord and Bryan Cranston Elevate a Familiar but Powerful Drama
A conventional narrative finds new life through sharply written dialogue and compelling performances.
By David Rooney, May 22, 2023 — 7:06 AM
Owen's latest film may not scream Cannes, but it earns its place thanks to its impeccable execution.
In a lineup full of bold proposals, Good Will Hunting opts for something more traditional.
Owen delivers a performance that shows clear evolution, dispelling any doubts about whether he can lead a film. Cranston complements him with a restrained and emotionally solid performance that keeps the film grounded.
While the film relies on dialogue and familiar narrative devices, its ability to capture the audience's attention is undeniable.
The prolonged ovation suggests that, at the very least, it has struck a deep chord.
…
On Twitter (X) it quickly became a trend, driven by the videos circulating, like the applause that wouldn't stop.
On Rotten Tomatoes, with barely a day, it already had 42 critic reviews, with a 98% score.
On Metacritic, the score stood at 88.
The consensus was quite clear: excellent performances. Not only from Owen and Bryan, several reviews also highlighted the work of Emma, Ethan, and Jacob. A strong script, confident direction, good cinematography, and a score that didn't go unnoticed either.
As the festival days went on, more reviews came out and word of mouth kept growing.
The screening on the 24th at the Salle Debussy was a success. A more analytical atmosphere, less charged with glamour than the premiere.
The third and final screening, on the 26th, also worked very well, with a broader audience: accredited guests, invitees, and some locals.
Both theaters were full. Reactions remained positive, with more focus on details, and word of mouth continued to grow, driven by the initial reviews.
That's how the 27th arrived, the last day of Cannes Film Festival. There were still screenings, but no longer from Official Competition.
And at 6:30 PM was the awards ceremony in the main theater, the same one where the films had premiered on their first day.
Around one in the afternoon, Owen's room was full. They had finished eating and now everyone was there: Jenna, Matt, Gaten, Caleb, Jacob, Emma, Sarah, Eric, Tyler, and Maya.
'Using my room as base again…' Owen thought, amused.
The group was talking over each other. Awards, probabilities, and rivals. Some tried to be realistic, others not so much. Tyler was recording, but the audio was chaos.
Owen was about to step in to organize things and steer the conversation, but Jenna beat him to it.
"Guys, this is confusing," she said, without raising her voice too much, but enough for everyone to hear her. "If this is going to be in the video, it has to be explained properly."
The conversations stopped for a moment, several nodded.
"True, more than fifty percent of the people who will watch the video won't have a damn idea what awards there are at Cannes," Eric said, who knew that was more for people familiar with the subject.
Immediately all eyes turned to Matt.
"Explain it to the YouTube people," Tyler said, pointing the camera at him.
Matt sighed, but stood up anyway, adjusting himself as if he were in front of a class.
"Alright," he began. "At Cannes there are several awards, but the important thing is to understand the order."
He made a brief pause and added, "The Caméra d'Or is awarded to the best first feature, meaning the director's first film, across all sections of the festival."
Gaten, Caleb, Maya, and Jacob nodded as if they were in class.
"Then come the Official Competition awards," he continued. "In this order: Best Screenplay, Best Actress, Best Actor, Jury Prize, Best Director, Grand Prix…"
He paused for a second before concluding, "and it all ends with the Palme d'Or. The most important award at Cannes."
"Seven possible awards…" Eric said, nodding.
"No," Emma corrected. "Actually, no. Only one is possible, didn't you hear?"
Eric looked at her, confused. Tyler, behind the camera, was the same.
"Pay attention," Matt said, snapping his fingers, regaining their focus. "Cannes doesn't work like the Oscars. The awards are distributed. If your film wins the Palme d'Or, it no longer competes for the other awards. Same with the Grand Prix. And if you win Best Director or something like that, you already know they won't give you the Palme or the Grand Prix."
"What? Seriously?" Eric said, twisting his mouth.
Caleb nodded. "Harsh, but fair."
"Exactly," Matt continued. "This goes back to the 1991 edition. Barton Fink won the Palme d'Or, Best Director, and Best Actor at the same time. After that, the festival decided it wouldn't happen again. They want to spread the awards, not have one film take everything."
"But there are exceptions," Owen said, arms crossed.
Eric turned toward him, now much more interested. "Go on."
"The jury can make an exception and give two awards to the same film," Owen explained. "But they have to request permission from the festival's direction."
He paused.
"And even then, there are limits. You can't combine the Palme d'Or or the Grand Prix with other major awards. If you win one of those, that's it."
"But other ones can be combined," Matt added. "For example, Best Actor with the Jury Prize. Or Best Actress with Best Director."
"And is it very hard to get the jury to do that?" Sarah asked.
"Very much," Matt nodded. "A double win is very rare. It happens when the jury is so convinced of a film's quality that they decide to formally request permission from the festival's direction to break the general rule of one award per film."
"The last double was in 2016 with The Salesman," Jenna commented.
"No, it was in 2017," Matt corrected. "'You Were Never Really Here' won Best Screenplay and Best Actor for Joaquin Phoenix."
"Technically the screenplay award was shared with 'The Killing of a Sacred Deer', which made the exception easier," Jenna replied calmly. "That's why, a true double as such, the last one was The Salesman in 2016."
There was a brief pause.
Several glances shifted from one to another, and then a few surprised exclamations were heard.
"The master being taught," Gaten commented, drawing laughter.
Tyler captured everything with the camera, smiling.
Matt stayed silent for a second, processing it. He looked at Jenna with an expression somewhere between surprise and recognition, raising his eyebrows slightly.
"Touché," he finally said, accepting it.
Jenna laughed too, now much more comfortable within the group.
The conversation continued, now more organized, providing useful information for those who would watch the video.
In that year's Official Competition there were 21 films. All of them competed at this awards ceremony, a Battle Royale.
There were no nominees like at the Oscars.
There was no shortlist. You simply went, sat down, and waited for them to open the envelopes.
That made it more uncertain. Because here it wasn't four or five clear finalists. It was more than twenty films, all with real chances.
Everyone began giving their predictions about which award Good Will Hunting might win. Out of the seven possible ones, it seemed logical that at least one would land, especially considering the reception: 11 minutes and 58 seconds of applause, practically twelve. The longest of the festival.
The Cannes applause meter guaranteed nothing. It didn't mean that having the longest ovation would automatically win you the Palme d'Or. It didn't work like that. But being among the three or four films that had surpassed eight minutes did indicate, at the very least, that something should land.
The question was which one.
Owen ruled out the Palme d'Or and the Grand Prix. Mainly because of what had already been repeated in reviews and comments: the film was more classical. And Cannes usually leaned toward more auteur-driven and riskier proposals.
The Grand Prix, in particular, tended to reward something more daring, more experimental. The Palme sought a balance, yes, but even so it tended to avoid anything too conventional.
That left them in a more uncertain zone.
Best Actor was a clear possibility, Bryan or him.
Best Screenplay had chances, although its less risky nature could work against it. Best Actress with Emma was also on the table. And Best Director: Derek had done a very solid job.
There were options.
Around 6:15 PM, Owen was already inside the Grand Théâtre Lumière.
In a suit, after a shorter red carpet, he was seated next to Jenna, Derek, and the rest of the main cast.
Matt, his mother, his sister, Eric, and the others were in different sections, a bit farther away this time as part of the general audience, not among the potential winners.
As for Jenna, since she was his partner, she could accompany him.
Owen noticed the atmosphere was different. More formal and serious, without that show-like tone the Academy Awards have.
At exactly 6:30 PM, it began.
The host entered, Chiara Mastroianni, of Italian-French nationality. She spoke in French, and Owen understood practically nothing.
There were no long monologues or comedic moments in the style of Jimmy Kimmel. It was more restrained.
"Applaudissons chaleureusement le jury," she said, raising her hand toward a section of the theater.
The entire room began to applaud.
Owen followed along out of inertia.
Derek leaned slightly toward him. "She's introducing the jury."
Owen nodded faintly.
And so the ceremony began.
The first award was the Caméra d'Or, presented by Anaïs Demoustier.
The winner was Inside the Yellow Cocoon Shell, by director Pham Thien An. A Vietnamese debut feature, long, over three hours.
The director went up on stage with a mix of disbelief and emotion, giving a longer-than-usual speech, without the time pressure typical of the Oscars.
The lights, warm but focused, dimmed slightly again as the next presenter entered: John C. Reilly. Owen recognized him instantly, inevitably associating him with Step Brothers, among other films.
The award for Best Screenplay.
Owen adjusted slightly in his seat, straightening his back. It wasn't an obvious movement, but enough for Jenna, beside him, to notice. She didn't say anything, but her hand moved toward his, resting gently.
It was a possibility.
Although, if he was honest with himself, it wasn't the award he wanted most. He preferred one that spoke about the film as a whole. Or if it was about him as an individual, he wanted the acting award, not one for a script he hadn't written, even if no one knew that.
"And the award goes to…"
A pause.
"Sakamoto Yuji, for Monster."
'Good,' Owen thought, beginning to applaud with the rest of the theater.
Next came Best Actress. It went to Merve Dizdar, the lead of About Dry Grasses, a Turkish-French-German production. Once again, the theater responded with sustained applause. Another speech, more emotional this time, with her voice breaking at moments.
Owen took a deep breath. Knowing the award he wanted most, if he was honest, was coming.
Best Actor.
The presenter was Orlando Bloom, who appeared with relaxed confidence, holding the envelope in his hand. The actor who played Legolas in The Lord of the Rings.
'If Legolas hands me an award, I can die in peace,' Owen thought.
"And the award for Best Actor at Cannes 2023 goes to…" he said, carefully opening the envelope.
He took a few seconds.
Owen, without realizing it, stopped blinking. His gaze fixed, completely still.
"Owen Ashford."
The name didn't land all at once. First there was a murmur, as if part of the theater needed a second to process it, then the applause came.
Jenna turned to him instantly, with a smile she didn't try to contain, and kissed him without thinking twice.
On the other side, Derek gave him a genuine slap on the shoulder, not holding back. Bryan looked at him with a wide smile as he applauded. "It's yours," he said, leaning slightly toward him.
Emma had her hands covering her mouth, still in disbelief. Jacob was clapping hard and was one of the first to stand, followed by several rows around them. Not the entire theater, but enough for the movement to be felt.
Owen took a second longer than the others to react. He blinked and finally stood up. He adjusted his jacket automatically, almost mechanically, as the applause kept growing, filling every corner of the Grand Théâtre Lumière.
He turned first to Jacob, shook his hand firmly. Then to Bryan. To Derek.
And then he started walking.
The applause didn't fade. On the contrary, it grew as he moved down the central aisle, with cameras following him, framing him from different angles, capturing every step up to the stage.
He finally arrived. He climbed the last steps and, once up there, met Orlando and they shook hands.
"Congratulations," Orlando said with a smile.
"Thank you," Owen said.
He was first handed the festival's official diploma, rolled up and tied with a red ribbon. It was the formal certificate of the award, the document that accredited the win, something traditional at Cannes that accompanies the physical prize.
Then came the award.
An elegant, restrained piece, very different from what a typical statuette would be. Inside an open case, lined in a light tone, rested a carved crystal plaque, with clean edges and a gold engraving at the center. The design was minimalist, with the festival's name and the category inscribed in an elegant way.
Owen took it with both hands. It was lighter than he expected.
He stepped forward to the transparent lectern, where two thin microphones stood. Carefully, he placed the open case on the glass surface, just as everyone had been doing that night. The crystal caught the light from the spotlights and reflected a faint glow from the gold engraving.
He looked up and saw that much of the audience was still standing, the applause sustained for a few more seconds before, naturally, it began to fade to give him space.
The room fell into silence. Not complete, but enough.
Owen didn't speak right away.
He stood there, looking at the audience. Thousands of faces. Some familiar, others not. Rows that seemed endless. Lights that didn't let him see everything, but enough to feel the magnitude.
He had won an Oscar not long ago. But for a short film.
This was different. This was a feature film, and for carrying a character from beginning to end. For his performance.
The silence began to fill with expectation. Many remembered that Oscars speech, strange, spontaneous, almost like a small sketch that had worked without seeming to. The question hung in the air: whether he would repeat that cold, controlled tone or if, this time, he would show something closer, more emotional.
Jenna brought a hand to her forehead without realizing it. 'Please, just give a normal speech…' she thought.
One of the cameras caught her at that exact moment.
Elizabeth, in another section, made a very similar gesture. She didn't say anything, but her expression said everything.
On stage, Owen remained silent for one more second.
"Well…" he finally said.
His voice came out a bit lower than usual at first, but steady.
"I'm not entirely sure what to say. It's hard to prepare a speech when you have no idea what award you might end up winning."
A few scattered smiles appeared.
Owen lifted his gaze slightly, as if searching for a fixed point among so many faces.
"But luckily, here I have a bit more time," he continued, letting out a faint smile, "they're not going to send dancers to drag me off the stage if I take too long."
Several laughs spread through the theater, recognizing the reference.
He waited a second, letting the sound settle.
"It's an honor to be up here," he went on, now more firmly. "That a jury like this has chosen me as the best among so many actors… means a lot."
He made a brief pause and added, "And, honestly, it's not easy. Carrying a film of this size while acting, writing, and producing… God knows I've worked hard."
More laughter followed, but Owen didn't stop there.
"But luckily, I didn't do it alone," he added, continuing naturally. "I was lucky to surround myself with the right people. Lianne."
He pointed toward her in the audience.
"Thank you for trusting me from the beginning. For being the first to join and helping me make this exist."
The theater responded with strong applause. The cameras turned to Lianne, who smiled, visibly moved, and applauded back.
Owen continued.
"Derek… for holding everything together when I couldn't be everywhere at once."
More applause. The camera showed Derek, who raised his hand in a brief gesture, not losing his smile.
"And the cast," Owen went on, "Bryan, Ethan, Emma, Jacob, Gaten, Caleb… and I'm sure I'm forgetting someone. You made everything easier than it should have been. And a lot more fun."
The applause rose again, this time warmer.
Owen let it happen, without interrupting. When it faded, his expression shifted slightly, more serious.
"Not long ago I told someone I wanted to be one of the greats," he said, with a different kind of calm.
There was no smile there.
"Not as a producer. Not as a writer…"
He made a brief pause.
"As an actor."
He rested his hand on the case of the award and added, completely serious, "I suppose this is a good first step."
There was a different reaction in the room. No one had expected that statement.
In one of the rows, DiCaprio glanced for a moment at his old friend Scorsese.
"Looks like you'll have competition," Scorsese murmured, quietly, with a hint of amusement.
And it wasn't an exaggeration.
Winning Best Actor at Cannes at 21 placed Owen in an extremely uncommon position. Beyond isolated exceptions like Yūya Yagira, who won at 14, most winners were men over 35.
So Owen had just joined an almost nonexistent club.
"Thanks," Owen said, without adding anything else.
He picked up the award and turned around.
The theater fell silent for a second.
Until a voice broke it.
"Wow! That's the spirit, man!"
It was Matt, standing, applauding without holding back.
Some people looked at him, surprised by the intensity of the reaction, out of place for a moment that until then had been almost solemn.
But it lasted only an instant. Because almost immediately, the rest of the theater joined in. First a few rows. Then others. Within seconds, the Grand Théâtre Lumière was on its feet again in applause.
This time stronger and longer.
Not just because of the award. There was a shared feeling of having witnessed something unusual.
In several rows, glances crossed.
Owen did not return to his seat.
At Cannes, winners move to a side section of the stage, visible to the entire theater, where a row of elegant sofas receives those being awarded. That's where they guided him.
Some eyes followed him as he arrived, other winners already seated offered brief smiles. Owen responded with a nod and sat down, resting the award on his legs.
The ceremony continued.
The next prize was the Jury Prize. The third most important in the festival's hierarchy, behind the Palme d'Or and the Grand Prix.
A new presenter appeared at center stage.
"And the Jury Prize goes to…"
He opened the envelope. Took out the card, and for a second, his expression changed.
It was quite noticeable. His eyes widened. He hesitated for a fraction of a second, as if he needed to confirm what he was reading.
In the theater, the tension rose immediately.
"Good Will Hunting."
Silence.
Not absolute silence, but that kind of void that appears when something doesn't immediately register.
Because everyone understood at the same time what it meant.
A double win.
A real one. After more than five years.
Glances moved quickly, from the central rows to the stage. From the stage to the side seating where the winners were.
Owen, seated, took a second to react. He looked down, as if he needed to process it, and then started clapping, still with an incredulous expression.
The entire theater applauded again, many looking at each other in surprise, not expecting a double win this year.
In the main section, Derek was the first to stand.
Lianne looked at him, surprised, as if seeking confirmation, and then she stood up as well. Bryan exchanged a look with Ethan, eyes wide. Emma was already clapping, unable to believe it.
"Yes!" Caleb blurted out, unable to contain himself, clapping while giving several pats on Gaten's shoulder, who was smiling broadly, shaking his head.
Jacob let out an exhale, almost a laugh that came out without sound.
Derek and Lianne began walking toward the stage, still with a mix of disbelief and emotion on their faces.
When they reached the stage, they shook the presenter's hand.
Lianne took the rolled diploma tied with the red ribbon, and Derek held the award.
Derek didn't wait long.
He stepped up to the microphone, still with a smile that hadn't fully settled yet, and looked straight toward the side of the stage.
"What are you doing over there?" he said, pointing at Owen. "Come on, it's your film."
The theater responded with immediate laughter at the direct, confident tone.
Several heads turned toward the section where Owen was still seated.
He raised both hands, shaking his head, saying something that couldn't be heard, but the gesture was clear: they should go on, that moment belonged to them.
He knew he could be up there as producer, writer, and financier, but he had already had his moment.
Derek looked at him for another second, understanding. He nodded and turned back to the audience.
"He has his moments of humility too," he added, in a lighter tone.
The laughter returned, this time a bit broader.
Then Lianne and Derek gave a more traditional speech. They thanked the team, the festival, and the entire process that had brought them there.
The ceremony continued.
The Grand Prix went to The Zone of Interest.
And the Palme d'Or to Anatomy of a Fall.
And so, the 76th edition of the Cannes Film Festival came to an end.
And the most talked-about film was not the Palme d'Or winner, not even Scorsese's.
The name that kept coming up was another: Good Will Hunting.
The double win had changed everything. And even more so the Best Actor award. Owen stopped being seen as an actor with rising potential, someone who stood out mainly for his scripts or for his ability to produce and finance his own projects. That nuance disappeared.
Now he was an actor firmly established on the front line.
Neon didn't take long to react.
The release date, initially set for Thursday, June 15, was moved up by a week.
Thursday, June 8.
A quick decision, almost immediate, taking advantage of the momentum that kept growing day by day.
Less than two weeks.
Just enough time to keep the conversation from cooling off. For audiences to be able to see, as soon as possible, the movie everyone in the industry was talking about.
...
P.S.: The film by Scorsese didn't win any awards because it was presented out of competition, due to distribution issues with Apple and the rules of the Cannes Film Festival.
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