Chapter 3 #3
Alessandro gives me some notes, better than I’ve ever had, and it’s honestly one of the coolest experiences.
We talk through my tone and the spirit he wants me to get across in each take.
It feels electric, exciting. Trying an angrier version, then a softer one.
Avi adapting deftly to each shift – Alessandro barely acknowledging or directing him.
Because he already has his part and it’s clear that Alessandro trusts him.
I’m the one on the line here. But, tentatively, I start to wonder if it might actually be going well.
Alessandro looks pleased and the scene is developing in exactly the direction he seems to want it to.
And so when he calls a break and I finally have a moment with my thoughts, a feeling occurs to me – a sense of belonging.
Of rightness. It startles me. Because I can’t get ahead of myself.
Because Sienna is still in the mix. Because I don’t know whether this ease I’m feeling with Avi is temporary.
Whether I’m even right for this part. Whether I’ll decide in the end to voice my concerns about working with Avi.
But even still it persists, slowly bubbling into excitement.
I stay with it for a few moments while Avi grabs a drink and Alessandro talks to the first assistant director about something.
His gaze passes over me a few times in a way that makes my heart thump.
Whatever the next scene he’s about to call is, I’m ready.
In this moment, I want to do everything I can to win this man’s approval.
A runner approaches us and I wait for him to tell us what we’ll be doing next.
But he simply spreads his hands, his expression carefully measured. My heart kicks.
‘It seems,’ he says, ‘that Alessandro has seen enough for today.’
And through all my earlier feelings, my heart sinks like a stone.
What?
I deflate at his words, worry stuttering through me.
We’ve only done one scene and while I took Alessandro’s direction just fine, I was hoping to show my range.
To have more of a chance to prove myself.
To – despite the person standing opposite me – have more of an opportunity to enjoy this experience on a giant set, which might well be my last. But it seems we’re dismissed and from the look on Avi’s face, it’s final.
He smiles at me and shrugs, turning to pick up his script off the nearby table.
‘You did great,’ he says quietly. ‘Don’t worry about Alessandro – he just likes a short audition sometimes. It doesn’t mean anything.’
I freeze for a second, lost for words, but then he gestures as if he’s about to go to the green room. I start to move too, ready to follow him. But before I can, the runner – who has been conversing with Alessandro for the last few moments – rushes over to me.
‘Alessandro would like to talk to you, Lara,’ he says. ‘Before you go.’
He looks up at Avi.
‘Alone,’ he clarifies. A breath rushes out of me, remembering suddenly the brief.
A screen test and a conversation. The conversation I’ve been preparing for for the last few days, but which flew out of my mind during the nerves of the last half hour.
I’ve been making notes in a purple notebook that I didn’t bring with me today because I’ve already memorised them.
My vision for Amelia. My connection to the character.
Everything scrawled in there, organised into a neat argument for how I’d want the role to look if I played her.
And if he still wants to have the conversation, that means I still have a shot.
I follow the runner down a short corridor into a small, windowless room outside the sound stage where Alessandro is waiting, sitting in a chair.
I suddenly feel like I’m in a police station, about to be interrogated.
I walk towards him, sitting down in the chair opposite him. A grey plastic table between us.
‘Now,’ he says, placing his hands on the table enthusiastically. ‘I wanted to thank you for coming today. And I wanted to talk to you about your vision for this role.’
I smile, waiting for the notes I’ve memorised to materialise in my mind. But they don’t – it’s suddenly, horribly blank.
‘Of course.’ I try to buy myself a little time.
‘It was my pleasure.’ He smiles and looks at me expectantly.
I knot my hands in my lap. ‘And, um…’ I falter.
‘Amelia is…’ I pause again, trying to find the right words.
To express the magnitude of this role, for me.
‘She’s very important to me. She’s a character I have loved for a long time.
’ And I search, again, for the speech I’d prepared.
The professional vision I honed, right for the marketing of the film.
Based on my knowledge of her character. But it’s not there.
He nods. ‘And when did you first experience this love for her?’ he says simply. His tone kind.
‘I’m sorry?’ I ask, not sure I’ve heard right. Because we’re not here to talk about me – we’re here to talk about her. I might have a personal connection to her in my mind, but I wasn’t expecting him to care about that. Only how much respect I have for the role.
‘This love you have for Amelia,’ he says. ‘I would like to hear about it. If you wouldn’t mind.’
I close my eyes, my throat drying up a little. His kindness making me emotional. But the notes I have are gone, completely, from my mind. And he’s looking at me with such an open expression that I find myself wanting to answer him honestly.
‘I started reading the books when I was a teenager,’ I say, my voice shaking a little.
‘I was…’ I hesitate, unsure how vulnerable to be, but a fuck it instinct comes over me.
‘My dad lost his job when I was a child and we had to move schools a few times. I always struggled with new people and socialising; people didn’t really warm to me at school.
Still don’t, actually – that’s more my sister’s territory.
’ I flinch as I say the last bit, wondering if I’ve overshared.
Well done, Lara, tell him you’re a social recluse, why don’t you.
But his expression doesn’t change, his eyes still kind, still fixed on me.
He nods slowly. ‘Yes,’ he says. ‘Us creatives – I fear this is often the way. We can be… how do you say it? Lone wolves.’
I nod, surprised and touched by his words. Finding a little more confidence, I continue.
‘Once I found acting, I sort of stopped caring about all that stuff. Before acting, though, I had Amelia. She was…’ I pause, because this part feels all kinds of embarrassing.
Like I’m a twelve-year-old again, talking about how much I love my favourite book.
Not a professional actress trying for a role.
But I’ve already said so much, I might as well go on.
‘She was everything I wanted to be. When people had problems, she fixed them. When…’ I blink, hardly daring to believe I’m actually saying these words out loud.
‘When she walked into a room, people took notice, you know? And I’ve accepted that that’ll probably never happen for me.
That my talents lie elsewhere. But she somehow even made me feel okay about that.
Like, whenever I needed a little strength, I could draw on it from her. ’
I finish, folding my hands together to stop them from shaking. Alessandro is quiet for a few seconds. I feel exposed, suddenly silly, for sharing so much of my life with him.
‘Thank you,’ he says. ‘For sharing, Lara. I appreciate your honesty.’
He looks pensive for a second and I wait for him to say something else. But he doesn’t. He just smiles, then stands and walks over to the door.
‘I will be in touch soon,’ he says, opening the door for me to leave.