Page 62 of Cinematic Destinies
The next morning while Ella was having tea, she decided to FaceTime Jean.
“Ma chérie. What a wonderful surprise. I’ve been thinking about you.”
“Oh?”
“Georgia was sublime in the film. I enjoyed getting to know her. Reminds me so much of you, in every way. A rare beauty, a firecracker with a warm soul. Wait until you see her performance. Somehow she inherited your spirit and Finn’s talent.”
Ella smiled. “It meant a lot to her, and to all of us, that you cast her. It’s extraordinarily special and full circle for our family, and especially me. Thank you.”
He came as close as he ever did to a genuine smile. “The honor was all mine.”
“Seems you told her some of my secrets.”
“You know I only tell people what they must hear. Comes from spending a lifetime as an artist. Plus, I’m too damn old to filter,” he said with a snicker.
“What was your excuse before?” Ella joked. “I’m just needling you. Truly, I’m grateful forallyou’ve done for Georgia.”
Jean nodded almost imperceptibly. “It’s always a pleasure to see your beautiful face, but I can tell when you have an ulterior motive. I can still read your eyes, even through my own sagging lids.”
“Yes, do you look like death warmed up,” she teased.
He laughed. “I was possessed by an idea last night, for a film. Usually when that happens, I get up and bang away on a script until I can sleep. With no more scripts, there’s nowhere to put the ideas, so the bloody things keep spinning in my head. There’s no respite.”
“Funny you should say that. It’s exactly why I’m calling. Rumor has it, you’re retiring. But you know I never believe gossip. Especially when it seems so utterly absurd.”
“Sometimes the rumors are true, vicious as they may be.”
“You’re an artist. Artists make art.”
He smiled softly and let out a puff. “I’m tired, Ella.”
“You’ll have plenty of time to sleep when you’re dead, which from the looks of it isn’t far off.” The corners of his mouth curled upward, and she continued, “Albie knew he was dying the summer he came to filmCelebration. For fuck’s sake, unlike you, he had cancer. That didn’t stop him. Quite the contrary. It motivated him to make a final piece of art that would live on long after he was gone. Seems like a better use of time than waiting around to die.”
Jean smiled, squeezed his eyelids shut for a long moment, and then looked directly at Ella. “You know I don’t believe in looking back. Sentimentality, nostalgia, longing, pining over one’s own legacy—all rubbish. Tragic misuses of imagination. Pathetic human foibles. Flaws of our bleak condition.”
“No need to sugarcoat it. Tell me what you really think,” she joked.
He chuckled. “I do find myself looking back, Ella.”
“And?”
“I’ve fucked some things up for sure, especially with the fairer sex. Perhaps I missed out on something. But I’ve had a bloody good run too. Made a hell of a lot of films. Some of them are even good.” Ella smiled. Jean’s expression became softer, and with a wistful look in his eyes he said, “With all I’ve done, I find myself most often thinking about that summer in Sweden, makingCelebration.”
“I think of it often too.”
“Celebrationwas about the meaning of life. The inevitable tragedy of the human condition. The trivial nature of our existence. Yet I do believe it was on that set, during that magical summer, I began to see a glimmer of something else—a glimmer of hope.”
“And they say you can’t teach an old dog new tricks.”
“Promise you’ll never tell anyone. Even after I’m gone.”
“Your secret is safe with me.”
“You know, Ella, you’re the love of my life, platonic as the relationship may be.”
“No. Filmmaking is your great love. Always has been. But I do love you too, as much as one can love a morbid, narcissistic, and royally fucked-up genius.”
He laughed. “I do so love you. And your gorgeous family.”
