There is a standing dispute between cineastes on whether a "great scene" is the product of a creative director (e.g., auteur theory) or by the skillful practice of "mimetic verisimilitude" or the seeming contradiction of a 'truthful imitation' by an actor wholly possessed of his character (cf., Plato's Ion). Who can truly say?
However, there is no denying that some scenes simply belong to an actor as a definitive statement of his craft. Here, for example, is a great scene. One in which the actor exhibits a perfect measure of
equinenimity to showcase the crown standards of thespian art: control of body, mind, and appearance. Oh, Branch is in it, too.
