As the screening of A Few Good Men ended, the audience watched Daniel Kaffee standing in the vast courtroom at the film's conclusion. He glanced around the empty chamber one last time, then strode forward with firm steps, leaving behind the deserted courtroom. Inside the cinema, the surging emotions within the viewers were undeniable.
It was not only because justice had finally been upheld, nor solely because of the electrifying confrontation between Kaffee and Jessup at the climax, but more so because of the reflection left behind at the film's end: Jessup, Dawson, and Downey—none of them believed they were wrong, or understood where they had erred. Yet the fact remained—an innocent Marine had died, and the three of them were directly or indirectly responsible. Now, Jessup was imprisoned, Dawson and Downey were dishonorably discharged. Was such an ending truly perfect?
Sitting in his seat, Hugo absorbed the impact the film had brought. Rob Reiner had infused A Few Good Men not merely with the charm of its characters, but with a depth of meaning that invited contemplation. Perhaps this was the allure of cinema itself, and of acting. Hugo gained much—both in exploring the craft of performance and in reflecting upon the power of film.
Applause broke out from the audience, crisp and strong, and then like a tidal wave it surged through the Chinese Theatre, filling every corner of the auditorium. Those sharp, resonant claps carried the audience's genuine emotions, releasing in full the feelings that had been suppressed for one hundred and forty minutes.
Hugo's thoughts were interrupted by the thunderous applause, and then he felt a warmth on his right hand. Turning his head, he saw Uma's face beaming with joy. She mouthed the words, "You were the best!" Her smile bloomed in tandem with the applause pouring in from every direction.
Uma then released Hugo's hand, stood up, and clapped along with the crowd. Only then did Hugo notice that people all around them were rising to their feet, expressing their respect in this way. He too stood, his face breaking into a broad smile as he met the joyful gazes of Jack Nicholson, Rob Reiner, Kevin Bacon, and others. Hugo knew—he had succeeded.
Following the triumph of Scent of a Woman, A Few Good Men had also achieved success. This time, Hugo's first breakthrough in acting had begun to shine brightly on the big screen. Hard work always brought rewards; opportunities, when close at hand, had to be seized with twice the effort. Fortunately, Hugo had not missed his chance.
That happiness of harvest filled Hugo's chest in an instant, a surge of accomplishment that moistened his eyes. He stood applauding, embracing and congratulating his colleagues on the cast and crew, celebrating the premiere's resounding success. Though critics' reviews and the audience's wider feedback still required time, this moment was for savoring victory—the applause was best met with open arms.
Rob led the actors to the front of the big screen. The theater lights had gradually brightened, and the crowd cheered as the filmmakers stepped forward, ready for the eagerly awaited Q&A session. It might not have the gossip of a press interview, but it was still a rare chance for audience and creators to connect through the work itself—no one would miss it.
Staff hurried forward to hand microphones to the lead actors. Jack declined the one offered to him, instead gesturing for it to be passed to Hugo. With a light smile, he even patted Hugo's shoulder, though Rob soon fetched another microphone for Jack as well. The audience settled back into their seats, preparing for the Q&A to begin.
Just then, however, the soundtrack shifted. From the stirring, uplifting music of the finale, it flowed into the rich, soulful tones of a jazz number. Its forties-inspired swing carried a leisurely charm. "Next time you see me, things will be different." That warm, bright voice melded with the melody, light and easy, almost coaxing fingers to tap along. Without realizing it, ears were drawn away from the chatter of the hall and back toward the big screen.
Only then did people notice—the end credits were still rolling. Moments ago, everyone had been too swept up in emotion to pay attention. Yet now, quietly and imperceptibly, the end-title song had recaptured the room, pulling attention back into its spell.
The singer's voice was at once smooth and bright, elegant yet irresistible, each lyric blending seamlessly with the story of A Few Good Men. In truth, the song's original theme described a man's feelings after a breakup—his lover's betrayal, his refusal to wallow, and his vow that when they met again, she would regret it. Yet in this playful, graceful rendition, listeners could not help but connect it to Kaffee's journey in the film.
At the beginning, Kaffee was no different from countless other lawyers—what mattered was not right or wrong, but winning and losing. This was the great flaw of America's legal industry, long criticized by European nations: lawyers had ceased to be defenders of justice, becoming instead manipulators of the law. Their talent lay in exploiting the system for clients' benefit, while morality, right and wrong, and justice itself ceased to matter.
Before meeting his clients, before even reading the case file, Kaffee had already judged a twelve-year sentence as a victory. When the prosecution later offered a six-month deal, the temptation was irresistible. Whether the accused could survive outside prison, whether they had truly "committed a crime," was of no concern. Kaffee was a quintessential American lawyer.
But as the story unfolded, Kaffee began to realize that some matters cannot be negotiated away. A lawyer is not a salesman, bargaining over deals—when it comes to a soldier's honor, or the relationship between law and justice, these lie beyond the reach of compromise. Ultimately, Kaffee used his wit and courage to defeat Jessup, earning Dawson's respect and the audience's admiration.
Remarkably, this mid-tempo jazz tune—Next Time You See Me—was performed in such a way that it seemed to replay the film's story in music. The audience's minds filled once again with the film's imagery, as though the tale of A Few Good Men had been retold through song. It was magical, and deeply moving.
Not only the audience, but Jack Nicholson too noticed the beauty of the end-title song. He glanced at Rob with a questioning look. Surprised at the crowd's reaction, Rob nonetheless gave him a firm nod. Jack turned his gaze back toward Hugo, and in his eyes there now lingered a trace of curiosity.
Sensing the hush gradually settling in the theater, and noting the expressions of the audience—some listening intently, others exchanging glances—Hugo also realized something was amiss. He shot an inquisitive glance toward Uma, seated among the viewers, but she too was lost in the music, offering no response. Hugo saw only her face immersed in intoxicated enjoyment, then furrowed his brow and looked to Rob. There he found his answer: Rob pointed to his own ear, and then Hugo heard it—his own voice flowing softly from the speakers.
Though Hugo had composed several songs since his rebirth, this was the first time he had ever heard his own voice recorded and played back. The sound felt strange. His voice now seemed richer, more resonant, carrying a depth and delicacy that carved out the details of the song more vividly.
Unfortunately, his vocal technique still showed hints of rawness, preventing him from fully exploiting this advantage. Yet Hugo's expressive power made up for it. After ten years of ups and downs, after the unthinkable experience of transmigration, after a year of fierce struggle, his understanding of music had clearly risen two full levels. Thus, when "Next Time You See Me" was performed, it effortlessly touched the tender places of the heart.
It was, without a doubt, an immense surprise.
When the end-title song finished, another round of applause unexpectedly broke out. Many in the audience wore looks of astonishment. Details determine quality; an excellent film must hold countless details worth savoring—and clearly, the end-title song of A Few Good Men was one such detail.
Thus, the very first question of the Q&A session turned out to be quite unexpected:
"Excuse me, was the end-title song specially produced?"
Normally, no one would ask such a question. Even if curious, they could check the credits once the film officially released. At the very least, no one would waste a rare opportunity at the premiere's Q&A session on it.
"Oh, I think Hugo should answer that question, since he was both the arranger and the performer of this song."
Originally, the question had been directed at the director. But Rob immediately deflected it to Hugo. At once, the room was filled with gasps of surprise.
Hugo Lancaster and music? This was unheard of. Everyone was astonished by the fact that Hugo had sung the end-title song. More astonishing still, after delivering such a captivating performance on screen, he had also gifted them a beautiful piece of music. For all present—including reporters and critics alike—this was an unexpected gain.
Hugo lifted the microphone in his hand. Never had he imagined that the first question he faced would concern the end-title song. Should he be happy that the music drew attention, or disappointed that his acting had not been acknowledged? A helpless smile tugged at his lips.
"Yes," Hugo replied, "this end-title song was my adaptation of Little Junior Parker's original, and I performed it myself." Then, his smile brightened further. This was a good thing; there was no reason to feel dejected. "It seems there are quite a few people here who liked it. That's a relief—at least if the film fails, Rob won't lay the blame on me."
Hardly had Hugo finished speaking when Jack suddenly interjected:
"You're the leading man—if we don't blame you, who else should we blame?"
Hugo froze on the spot, while the audience burst into laughter.
....
Hi For access to additional chapters of
Director in Hollywood (40 chpaters)
Made In Hollywood (60 Chapters)
Pokemon:Bounty Hunter(30 Chapters)
Douluo Dalu: Reincarnated as Yan(40 Chapters)
Hollywood:From Razzie to Legend(40 Chapters)
The Great Ruler (30 Chapters)
Join pateron.com/Translaterappu