Page 18 of Catch Me
The theater room is tiny, likely an audience of no more than fifteen to twenty people could fit comfortably into the space. The stage is only about eight feet wide and four feet deep, but it might be one of the priciest pieces of real estate in Los Angeles, which is saying something.
You name anyone of the greats of this town, and they’ve graced Victor’s stage at some point. Which is why I make it to his school at least a few times a month in order to continue fine tuning my skills as an actor. Even more if I have an upcoming role that I would like his input on.
So, when Victor asks if I need to go, I have no problem tucking my phone back into my pocket and telling him, “You have my full attention.”
He gives me a pleased nod of his head.
“How about this,” he says. “Instead of redoing it, tell me from your perspective why this scene is so pivotal to the character.”
I raise a brow as I think about his comment. We’re working on the most important moment for myLate Nights’character, Shawn.
“Well, he’s almost just died,” I explain to Victor.
This makes him frown. “And?”
I cock my head to the side.
“He nearly died, so what?” he elaborates. “What does it mean to him? Didn’t he start out the beginning of the movie wanting to die? He almost got what he wanted. What’s the change he went through to make him realize life is a gift? What brought him to that point?”
It’s the last question that strikes me.
Every role I take on, I do my best to get inside of the head of the character. Acting is more than pretending, as most people like to think of it.
I have to believe these characters are real people. While their reactions may come across as nonsensical, if I’ve portrayed themaccurately, the audience will pick up that given the character’s state of mind, their reaction makes perfect sense.
The role of Shawn is a character that both intrigued and intimidated me ever since I laid eyes on the script. He’s different from anything else I’ve ever played.
Since Michael selected me for the role, I’ve spent at least one afternoon a week working with Victor to prepare. This is my final visit before I head out of town and then start filming on Monday.
“I need to re-read the script,” I tell Victor.
His frown doesn’t leave his expression. Instead, he moves closer to me and presses a fist against my chest. “You’ve read enough. Now you need to feel. From here.” He punctuates the final sentence with a small press to my chest, indicating my heart.
Chuckling, I nod. Victor’s always saying shit like that. He’s technical in many ways, but his underlying belief is that at some point, all the mechanics and strategies in the world amount to bullshit if your heart’s not in it.
“If you say so,” I tell him, making him smirk.
“Smartass.”
“Your favorite smartass, though. And most talented,” I add.
“Ha! The Girl Scouts neighbor that harasses me about cookies every January has more talent in her pinky than you.”
My laughter bubbles over. Victor is also known for hating to give compliments. The more he teases and calls you a talentless hack, the more talent and potential he believes you have.
Before I can reply, the bell at the top of the front door of his building sounds, as someone enters.
“The next victim just arrived,” he claims. “Give me a minute.”
I nod as he heads out to greet whoever just came in, even though his assistant could’ve gotten it. In the meantime, I pull out my phone to look over Stan’s latest messages, since my phone buzzed a couple of more times.
Stan:
This is going to be stellar for your career. You two would be on the cover of every magazine and blog.
My eyes roll involuntarily. He knows to text me this bullshit, instead of saying it to my face because I’d tell him exactly where to put his magazine cover and blog write ups.
Yeah, all of that is a part of the business, but that’s not why I became an actor. Not even close. Storytelling is my reason. I don’t need magazine covers to do that.
