STS Ch-65

“You don’t know what you want to be,” Michelle said bluntly, looking straight into my eyes.

“What… exactly do you mean by that?” I asked hesitantly.

She gave me a serious look. “This is just my opinion, so take it with a pinch of salt, okay?”

I nodded.

“You’re an actor, a writer, a director, a producer, a model, and a professional athlete.”

“I’m not a professional athlete anymore,” I argued. “Neither a model.”

“Yet you train every day for hours,” she pointed out. “And didn’t you agree to be the brand ambassador of Porsche? That makes you a model as well.”

I couldn’t argue with that. I did train every day, and while I hadn’t shot anything for Porsche yet, I would as soon as the shoot for [Risky Business] was over. The reason for training was simple. I’d been doing it non-stop for years, and it wouldn’t feel right to suddenly give it up. Moreover, it relaxed me.

“So what do you want me to do? Give it all up and focus only on acting?”

“No.” Michelle shook her head. “But you definitely need to prioritize what’s important to you. If you’re not an athlete anymore, why are you still practicing so religiously every day?”

When I didn’t reply immediately, she continued,

“More importantly, why do you want to become a director so badly when you haven’t perfected acting yet?”

“Because I’m naturally good at directing,” I argued. “Everyone who saw my first film loved it. Directing a scene and being in full command of everything around me gives me such a rush that I want to pursue it. There have been multiple actor-directors over the years, like Charlie Chaplin, Orson Welles, Warren Beatty, and so on. Why can’t I do the same?”

She shook her head. “You can’t compare yourself to anyone else. What worked for them won’t necessarily work for you. Everyone has different capabilities. I have no doubt that you’re a good director, but if you really want to become a good actor as well, you need to spend time honing your craft. You can’t direct yourself perfectly unless you’re a great actor first.”

That was something I hated to hear, but deep down, I knew she was right. Just because I’m mentally older than I should be doesn’t make me an inherently great actor.

“So what should I do?” I asked seriously. “Suppose I give up directing for a few years. What then?”

“Then you take up as many roles as you can,” she said. “If you don’t want to do too many movies, hone your skills in theater. No one teaches you how to act better than performing in front of a live audience.”

I thought about it in silence for a while. This wasn’t a decision I could make in seconds. It would take deep introspection to decide whether I’d follow Michelle’s advice or not.

One thing was in my favor: time. I had plenty of it. I was already aging much slower than normal, and I had decades’ worth of movies in my head. There was no hurry to do everything right now.

On the other hand, sometimes I feel helpless when I have no say in the movie I’m writing and starring in. As a director, I’d have the autonomy to do things on my own terms.

“I’m so sorry for distracting you right now,” Michelle said suddenly. “We should be focused entirely on the scene. Forget everything else.”

“You’re right,” I nodded. “Let’s get to it.”

Today was the last day of shooting [Risky Business]. That is, if everything went as planned. These last two and a half months had flown by so quickly that I sometimes found it hard to believe the movie was almost over. Despite it being my worst experience so far, I still hated the fact that it would all be over soon.

A sudden knock on the door jolted me out of my thoughts.

“The shot is ready, Noah,” Jerry, the first AD, said.

“I’ll be right there,” I called out, then turned to Michelle. “Let’s go.”

She nodded and got up from her seat. While Michelle had already completed all her scenes, she was still present on set to help me prep for the role. And thank God she was here. I’m pretty sure I’d be behind bars by now if that responsibility had been left entirely to Paul.

While we’d learned to ignore our differences and focus on the work, there was still a lingering tension, ready to boil over at any moment. Whenever he critiqued me excessively or pushed for multiple retakes, I always wondered how much of it was actually deserved and how much was him trying to put me in my place. Unfortunately, that was something I’d never find out.

I walked over to the set and saw that everyone was already there, ready to begin shooting. Daryl looked beautiful in her grey dress. I glanced at her for a moment before doing a double-take.

“Why aren’t you wearing a bra?” I asked quietly, close enough that only the two of us could hear.

She shrugged. “Paul told me I’d look hotter this way.”

“For fuck’s sake, that asshole!” I growled. “This scene isn’t meant to titillate the audience. We have plenty of other scenes for that. This is supposed to be the end, meant to leave the audience on a bittersweet note. Now half the people will be thinking about your breasts.”

She cupped herself over her clothes and asked, “Do they look ugly?”

“No,” I snorted. “You could never be ugly. But please, go change into something else.”

Daryl looked uncomfortable at my request and glanced around, hoping to find someone else to talk to. Unfortunately for her, she didn’t have many friends here, so I decided to step in.

“Paul!” I called, waving him over.

He was giving some last-minute instructions to the lighting crew, but when he saw me, he quickly wrapped up and walked over.

“Everything alright?”

“I think Daryl should change into something else,” I said, not beating around the bush. “Or at least wear a bra.”

“What’s the problem?” he asked, confused. “She’s shot bolder scenes for this movie. This is pretty tame compared to everything else we’ve done.”

I wanted to snap at him, but I reined myself in at the last moment.

“Not every scene has to be about sex,” I said in a forced calm voice. “This scene is about the connection between Josh and Mia, the romance they never got to explore because of their differing backgrounds, professions, and class. We don’t want the audience to think it’s just about physical intimacy. Wearing that see-through dress with no bra will force them to focus only on her features. Daryl is such a great actress, and with this scene, you’ll reduce her to a piece of meat.”

“Now you’re exaggerating,” Paul waved off my concerns. “I’m not denying that she’s a great actress, but this is the role she chose. She knew what she was getting into when she signed up. And if you have such a problem with her being a piece of meat, you should’ve thought of the consequences before you wrote this script.”

I was this close to stepping forward and socking him in the jaw, but somehow I held my anger in.

I took a step back. “I’m leaving. I’m not shooting this scene if she’s wearing that. To hell with the consequences.”

Paul opened his mouth in shock, ready to argue, but no words came out. We’d had our disagreements before, but I’d never threatened to walk off set. It had always been about me. I could take whatever he threw at me, but this would undermine the entire film, and I couldn’t allow that.

I turned to Daryl and said softly, “It’s not your fault, Daryl. Don’t think this is about you. It’s all Paul.”

“You’ve signed a contract,” Paul finally said. “Columbia will sue you. Frank Price would be pissed at you.”

I laughed at that. Sure, Frank might be a little unhappy, but mostly because he’d have to get involved. After living in his home for the brief time I did, I’d learned one important thing about him. He didn’t give a fuck about small issues that could be solved by throwing money at them.

Even if I weren’t related to him, he’d just write me a check for a considerable amount, say $10k, to keep shooting uninterrupted, along with making me sign an NDA so this didn’t become standard practice for other actors.

“Sure, go ahead, get Columbia to sue me,” I said without a care. “But by the time you get to that, the film will be as good as shelved, and along with it, your directing career. I already have multiple offers to star in movies from other studios. But you, you’ll get lost in obscurity again.”

By now, the entire crew was watching the exchange with trepidation.

“You know what? You are a motherfucking nightmare of an actor!” Paul thundered. “I fucking hated everything about you in this movie. Every fucking day, I’d look at the dailies and dread how the critics are gonna tear my film apart. All because of you. If there were an Oscar for Worst Actor, I have no doubt who’d win it. If I could get away with it, I’d kill you so I could get a better actor for this role, you incompetent asshole.”

That was it for me. I took a step forward, my fist raised to strike him across the face, when someone stepped in between us.

“Whoa, calm the fuck down, Noah!” Jerry shouted. “Step back right now.”

I may have been angry, but I wasn’t unreasonable, and Jerry hadn’t done anything wrong. In fact, the reason the friction between Paul and me had been minimal until now was mostly because of him. So I stepped back, but only for him.

I raised a finger at Paul and said clearly, “This man has humiliated me multiple times and has now threatened to kill me as well. Everyone heard it. I won’t work with him again.”

Jerry groaned before saying softly, “It’s just one more day, Noah. It’ll hardly take a few hours. I’ll make sure you don’t have to talk to him at all.”

“No.” I shook my head and stepped back. “Get him out of here. I’m going home. I can’t act after the humiliation he put me through in front of the entire crew. I’ll come back only when he’s been thrown out.”

“I’ll throw you out!” Paul shot back, before the second AD pulled him away from me. If he hadn’t, I’d probably be going to jail for assault and battery.

I took a deep breath to calm myself before looking back at Jerry. “I don’t even want to look at his face anymore. As long as he’s here, I won’t shoot the climax. I’ll talk to Frank myself about this, so don’t worry about the studio.”

With that said, I walked back to my trailer and dropped into my makeup chair. How had things escalated so much over something as simple as a wardrobe choice for Daryl? Was Paul right? Was I really that bad that critics would tear the film apart because of me? But Michelle had said otherwise earlier. Was she lying about that part?

Fuck. Now the whole crew knows how terrible of an actor I am. How am I supposed to look any of them in the eye again? They’ll all be thinking about Paul’s rant whenever they see me.

“Noah? Are you alright?”

I looked up in surprise to see the one person I hadn’t expected.

“Daryl?” I asked softly. “I’m sorry you had to see that.”

“I just came here to say that Paul’s wrong,” she said bluntly in a monotonous voice, which was her normal tone whenever she wasn’t putting on a front for others. “You’re a good actor, and more importantly, you’re a good human being. I loved working with you.”

I got up from my seat and walked over to her. “Can I hug you?”

She nodded.

I didn’t waste a moment pulling her into a tight hug. She rubbed my back gently. “There, there.”

I laughed at her reaction before pulling back and cupping her face in my hands. “I’m gonna kiss you now, okay?”

She nodded again, so I did. It began tenderly as my lips touched hers, but within moments, the intensity between us deepened. We’d kissed many times while filming, but this was the first time anything was happening off-screen.

Her sweet, soft lips had a faint rose scent, and in that moment, I realized I wanted more from her.

“I want to make love to you,” I said after a moment. “Do you want that as well?”

She stayed silent for a moment, biting her lower lip in thought before nodding slowly. “I want that.”

I offered her my hand and gestured toward the door. “Let’s go to my place. It’s just ten minutes from here.”

“What about the film?” she asked, confused. “They sent me here hoping I’d be able to convince you to come back.”

I snorted at that. “If Samuel were here today, he might’ve been able to convince me, since he has the power to fire Paul. But since he’s not, let’s just say you failed.”

I walked toward my car, holding Daryl’s hand as I drove away from the set in my Porsche 911.

(Break)

“That’s a fucking shit show,” Samuel groaned after hearing the full story from Jerry. “And here I thought we were almost done. I leave the set for one day, and this happens. You couldn’t handle a teenager with a big ego and a nobody director?”

“Things escalated in a matter of moments,” Jerry said defensively. “One minute, Noah called Paul over to talk about the scene. The next, they were shouting at each other. By the time I reached them, Paul had already said the worst of it. Noah has made it clear he won’t return to the set as long as Paul is there.”

“Then get Paul out of there,” came the voice from the speakerphone in the room. “What Paul said was out of line. I had told him specifically why we can’t replace Noah as the lead actor. Yet he still chose to say all that, and publicly. That goes against all the values we follow here at Columbia.”

Samuel felt like something strange was going on. Why would Frank Price suddenly care about Columbia’s values when far worse things had happened on other film sets over the years?

“But Frank,” Samuel said after a moment, “Paul could escalate this to the Directors’ Guild if we remove him from the scene.”

“Let him,” Frank said in a no-nonsense tone. “Warn him that if he does, we’ll escalate it and take it to SAG and PGA as well. Moreover, I’ll personally make sure he never works with any major studio in Hollywood again.”

Now Samuel was sure something else was happening behind the scenes that he wasn’t aware of. Why else would Frank go so hard against the director, when the usual approach in situations like this was to resolve things peacefully?

At the end of the day, Samuel was just an employee, and he was there to do what he was told.

“Alright, I’ll remove Paul from the scene. But then who would direct the climax? We need a good director to wrap it up properly.”

Frank chuckled. “You’ve got one right there on set. One who knows the script much better than you or I do.”

Ah. Of course.