When the four of them, aided by the crew's public relations staff, broke through the siege of media reporters and entered the Ryerson Theater, the red carpet portion of the premiere had officially come to an end.
Eager to get the scoop, many media reporters immediately evacuated the scene and rushed to nearby "temporary offices" to upload photos, short videos, and press releases from the premiere via laptops and wireless networks.
These were clearly Internet media reporters—lightning-fast and impossible for traditional outlets to compete with in terms of speed.
As soon as the news of the Infernal Boys performing on the red carpet went live, it instantly drew massive attention online.
In particular, short video clips with both sound and visuals spread like wildfire across the Internet. The English version of "Little Apple" quickly went viral in North America. In the original timeline, "Little Apple" became a global sensation. You could call it a "salvation song," but you couldn't really call it a bad song!
Decades later, when most so-called elegant or artistic tracks have faded from memory, "Little Apple" will still be around.
Back at the Ryerson Theater—
By this time, the screening hall was already packed.
The Ryerson Theater is an auditorium-style venue that can accommodate thousands of moviegoers at once.
The first ten rows had been reserved for celebrity guests, media personnel, film critics, and international distributors. Businesspeople with stakes in the film had also secured their spots. These seats alone took up nearly half the theater. The remaining dozen or so rows were filled with fans—Canadians, Americans, and even some who had flown in from Europe just for this.
Martin Scorsese, the film's director, had experienced countless premieres over the years. Logically, he should've been composed—but tonight, he found himself unexpectedly nervous.
He had poured his ambition into this film. Past failures had left him anxious, worried about gains and losses.
Oscar.
That was his target.
The lights dimmed. The screen lit up.
The Departed—a remake of Infernal Affairs—stuck closely to the original plot.
The two leads:
Billy, played by Leonardo, lost his father to a brutal beating at the hands of Castro, the boss of the Boston underworld. Ever since, he vowed to become a righteous cop and rid the world of evil.
However, during his job interview, his superior humiliated him repeatedly. Under threats and manipulation, Billy was forced to go undercover in Castro's organization.
Colin, played by Martin, had grown up an orphan. After being injured in a fight, he was rescued by Castro, who saw potential in the clever boy and adopted him.
As an adult, Colin became Castro's right-hand man. Following orders, he entered the police academy to serve as an undercover mole.
Colin, with his high IQ and EQ—and aided by constant intel from Castro—quickly rose through the ranks of the police department. It was smooth sailing for him. He not only gained a promising career, but also got the girl.
Billy, in contrast, came from a much tougher environment. But with guts and relentless effort, he gradually earned Castro's trust—and incidentally, also got a girl… Colin's girl.
As time went on, both men began to crack under the pressure of their double lives. The constant tension made them crave change.
During his long undercover stint, Colin began to identify more as a cop and grew increasingly disgusted with Castro's manipulation.
Upon discovering that Castro was also a double agent working with the FBI, Colin, fearing exposure, betrayed him during a sting operation and personally gunned him down.
Trying to clear his name, Billy approached the police station and attempted to speak with Colin, now promoted to chief. But Billy realized Colin was the mole—and quietly slipped away.
Colin, alert and calculating, guessed that Billy had figured out his secret. He immediately deleted Billy's personnel file from the system.
What Colin didn't know was that Castro had recorded all their private conversations and left the recordings with Billy.
Billy used the recordings to blackmail Colin into meeting him on a rooftop, demanding the restoration of his identity file.
The two clashed. Billy nearly subdued Colin in the elevator—but was suddenly shot in the head by another undercover gangster who showed up.
Colin took advantage of the moment, used the other gangster to dispose of Billy's body, and then shot the gangster too.
At that point, no one alive knew Colin was a mole.
He thought he was in the clear—but he overlooked one person: Dickman, the undercover cop who had worked with Queenan. Upon learning the truth, Dickman ambushed Colin at his home and shot him—despite having no evidence.
And so, both undercover agents received their "lunch boxes"—slang for dying—and the film ended.
Many viewers, especially those from China, felt that the American version of The Departed was too blunt, especially the ending.
Compared to the romantic, stylish, and polished Hong Kong original, the American version was gritty, crude, and grounded.
From lighting to editing, from camera movement to sound design, the film exuded a raw, street-level aesthetic.
Everyone—from cops to gangsters—spoke in constant profanity.
"Fuck" is uttered 237 times in the film.
If the Hong Kong version was an elite cop drama, then the American remake was a gritty, working-class thriller.
To Western audiences, this was how a cop film should be—because this was how they saw police and criminals.
Martin and Nicholson delivered powerful performances, and Leonardo's acting was also top-notch.
Watching the scene where Billy berates Colin with a torrent of foul language, Leonardo smiled to himself.
"I acted the hell out of that." That's what he was thinking.
Scorsese was also deeply impressed by Leonardo's performance.
The actor he had worried might fall short not only held his own against two legendary veterans, but did so with poise—never seeming overshadowed. Scorsese was pleasantly surprised and found himself genuinely appreciating Leonardo.
By contrast, he felt nothing in particular toward Martin and Nicholson.
It's just like how The Prodigal Son easily won over the public—because he had been bad, and then became good. The dramatic transformation left a deep impression. Meanwhile, those who are good from the start rarely surprise anyone.
As the film reached its climax and Colin was shot dead, Martin instinctively curled his lips.
But when he heard the thunderous applause in the theater, he knew: the movie was a success.
This was exactly what Western audiences loved—simple, direct, and rough.