horseboykarl (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
horseboykarl) wrote2005-08-25 09:08 pm
horseboykarl) wrote2005-08-25 09:08 pm
A Spaghetti What? (Dave/Karl)
Sid was as good as his word, and I have a pile of scripts and story treatments on my table. Sorting through them, evaluating them, trying to picture them in my head . . . all of that has kept my mind busy and my memories at bay.
There’s only one bloody problem with this pile, though. They’re all some variation of characters I’ve played before. Some badass or another on one side or another, killing his way through anyone who gets in his way.
After what I’ve seen and what I’ve done, I don’t think I can play a bloke like that right at the moment. I’ve committed myself to Outlander already, but I hope by October I can manage that role. It hurts, thinking that one of the attractive things about that project is that it’s filming here, in Zid and I took it so I wouldn’t have to leave Eric. I push him out of my mind and continue to go over sheets.
So after I put all of the pages that creep me out in the ‘no’ pile there’s only one left. This one has possibilities. There’s a note on it from Sid that reads, “They like your physical presence on screen, but they’re not sure you can also do sensitive and sexy. I sent them the extended edition of Return of the King, but they want to do a screen test with you to see if there’s any heat between you and DiCaprio. If you’re agreeable, I’ll set it up.”
I tap the pages thoughtfully against the cast on my palm. Good thing I started growing my hair out again, it’ll have to be long for this one. This director could really change things for me, but I’ve never met him before and I’m not sure how to approach the audition. He’s offbeat and his movies are surreal and I’ve got no bloody idea how to handle him.
Luckily, I do know someone who has worked for him that I can call for advice. And maybe it’s time I started reaching out for my friends, not to burden them with my problems, but just to reassure myself that they’re still there. If nothing else, that ride with Jay showed me that holing up like I have been has just been hurting me worse.
Don’t need to look this number up. “Dave?”
Dave: I'd been expecting a call from my mum this afternoon, and it's a good thing I glanced at the display on the cell before saying anything endearing. "Karl? Hey, how're you doing, mate?"
It's been a bit since we've talked, I suppose I should call more often myself, but time slips away sometimes. "Sorry I haven't rang you lately, got caught up in projects, was in Auckland for a bit, horse got feeling ill.... no excuse though, I shouldn't neglect my friends. So, what's up?"
Karl: I listen to you nattering on and I know this was the right thing to do. Just the familiarity of your mouth running on about nothing is reassuring. “Got a little problem here that I thought my friendly neighborhood cross-dresser could help with.” I stop, wondering if that was something I’d say normally, teasing you. Fuck, I don’t remember how to behave naturally anymore.
I clear my throat nervously. “Anyway, I don’t know if you’ve heard, but Baz Luhrmann is reviving his Alexander project. He’s interested in me playing Hephaestion to Leonardo DiCaprio’s Alexander. But he wants an audition. And all I’ve got to go on is a story treatment that’s beyond vague.”
My feet have been traveling around in circles while I’m talking. Gonna have to refinish the floor if this keeps up. “Knowing you made cinematic history and had the whole world stunned by your sheer talent as Audrey, was hoping you could give me some tips . . . . or something.”
Dave: Oh, Christ. Karl's in for a treat. I'd met up with Baz for drinks a few weeks, no, wait, a couple of months ago and he'd gone on about a few of his concepts for Alexander. I remember it was three in the morning before I'd gotten loose from him, once you get that man talking, he just won't wind down quickly. Not that I minded one bit! There's something very freeing about Baz and his visions. The man's just a damned joy to work with, as far as I'm concerned.
You don't sound overjoyed at the prospect, though, in fact, I can't quite put my finger on what it is you sound like. The teasing's there, just a bit off, and you sound nervous. "Hey, Baz is great, this would be a wonderful chance for you, Karl. Want to get together and you can tell me about this vague story treatment?"
Karl I let out a breath. “Thanks, mate. I’ll give you everything his production company has sent me, but I warn you, it’s really not much. I guess he thinks everyone already knows the story.”
We make arrangements to meet at your cabin, for which I’m grateful. Another thing I’ve learned these past days is that the way to keep the walls where they belong and not trapping me is to get away from them frequently. It’ll be an effort trying to pretend that everything’s normal, but I know your silliness will keep the darkness away, for a little while.
I’m getting used to trying to shift gears with just my fingertips. I couldn’t have managed this if I still owned the beast, I think, but this new truck shifts like silk. But my fingers are aching by the time I pull up at your cabin.
Dave: I hear your truck pull up, and head out onto the porch to greet you with a wave. You trudge up, a folder under one arm, and a cast on the other? The hell? It's a thin folder. Baz really didn't give you much. "Hey, mate - got beer's chilled and some chips and guacamole. Missing Hugo, I guess, be nice to share the green goop with a friend." I give you a sideways look as I grab two icy bottles and hand you one, I still can't quite get a hold of what's off with you. I drop onto the couch and slap the empty space next to me. "It's just Baz, he likes to throw people off kilter. Gives him something new to work with. Don't take his vagueness personally. Um, Karl... really, it's just a script, we'll have some fun with this. You look like you could use some fun. And what happened to your arm? Your horse throw you?"
Karl: I roll my eyes at that, I’m not the one that gets thrown. But I frown. Too bad I didn’t think of that one before I told my story to Éomer. My ego could stand that battering I suppose. Best to keep my stories straight though. I shrug.
“Bar fight. Some fucker thought he’d impress his mates by taking me on. I didn’t dodge fast enough, that’s all.”
I sit beside you, taking the beer, and ignoring the chips, saying I ate before I came over. I hand you the folder with the note from Sid still attached, hoping it will help you make sense out of it. “It’s a chance for me to do something different, his movies get a lot of critical attention and not just for the special effects. But fuck if I know what he’s looking for.”
Dave: "Gotta stay out of those bar fights, Karl. Bad enough you're all banged up... again... I'm gonna start keeping a list of how many times I've seen you like this. It's hard on you, and doesn't do you any favors in director's eyes." I flip through the folder, it's pretty sparse, all right, basic information on Alexander and .. hmm, never could pronounce that name right, Hephaistion. Baz has guts, taking this project on so soon after Oliver did, and I remember telling him so to his face. He'd laughed and ordered a plate of spagetti, giving me a broad wink. I'd wondered what that was about. I read the note clipped to the folder. "Keep up with your riding, and be ready for anything." Really helpful, that.
Or is it? Oh, holy hell, it is. Riding horses. Spagetti. Baz, you bastard, you wouldn't, would you? Oh, you would.
"I take it back, Karl. The banged-up look just might win you this part, though the cast is too much. You'll get that off soon, I hope? And tell me. Have you watched many Sergio Leone films?"
Karl: How is banged up going to help me get something that’s supposed to be sensitive according to Sid? Sergio Leone? Oh, yeah. Clint Eastwood and hardly any dialogue, I remember now.
“American Westerns, right? Except not in America?” I know my face must show my utter confusion. My mind doesn’t work like yours does, that’s obvious. “Cowboys and Indians instead of Greeks and Persians? How?” I trail off, not even sure what to ask.
Dave: I nod absently, lost in thought, and sip thoughtfully on my beer. "Baz loved 'Paint Your Wagon', but he's not likely to do another musical just yet ... but damn, the feel he could give to an updated spaghetti Western.” I twist on the couch and give you a huge grin. "And exactly. You're getting it. Cowboys and Indians. Alexander wouldn't be a king, he'd be..." I wave my hands, trying to figure it out. "I don't know. An authority figure, but one that isn't office bound. A Marshall. A sheriff. And Hephaestion would be his deputy. He dies, right? Gunfight. Showdown. Drawn pistols at dawn, and the sheriff's left without his right hand man. But, it's Alexander. He's devastated." You're gaping at me like I'm drinking drugged beer, and maybe I am, it's hard to know! "I wouldn't even venture to guess how Baz would end it."
Karl: I gawp at you and then shut my mouth with an angry click. “You know I can’t fucking sing.” Paint Your Wagon? This is a really bad idea. I’m out of my depth and I don’t think I can do this anymore. I’ll just do Outlander and retire, go brew wine with Aunt June. The world doesn’t really need yet another actor. And Wellington can just muddle along without me . . . I seem to poison everything I touch anyway.
“They both died of illness within a few months of each other,” I say vaguely. “I don’t know how to do this, how to play an American deputy in love with his sheriff in Baz Luhrmann’s world. I’m not . . . quirky. “ Evidently, I don’t know how to properly be in love, so how can I possibly act like it. And I can’t do sensitive and sexy, because I’m neither. “So I’m sorry to bother you with it.”
Dave: I'm about to make a smartass comment about your lack of singing ability, when I realize you've practically dismissed the project - and again with a tone in your voice that's sad and confusing. And dammit, a bit irritating. This could potentially be a fantastic project, and I won't let it slip through your fingers this easily. You're a damned fine actor, and it's time you showed it. I am too, and I'm going to act like you're still with me on this, so here we go.
"Baz is pulling two cultures together for this project, that much we do know. Maybe I'm close to the mark on what he's going to hit you with, and maybe I'm not, but there's one thing I do know. It's something I read up on when I was trying to figure out my own sexuality, Karl. Alexander and Hephaestion probably weren't lovers in the modern day sense of the word. Alexander had three wives and a couple of mistresses. But Hephaestion was his closest, oldest friend, and sex between them would have been perfectly acceptable in their culture. We're not talking moony-eyed furtive lovers here." Okay, Dave, make a point before he just gets up and leaves. "You say you're not quirky. Maybe you're not. But you are one of the most loyal friends I've ever had. And I know you'd do anything for your mates. How would you feel if your closest friend died fighting a battle you'd gotten them into? Go with that, Karl. See if you can tap into that feeling. And then just free form some words at me."
Karl: Grimly, I shut down any memories of what happened to the friends that did go to battle for me. “I’m not supposed to be playing Alexander,” I protest, and then hold up a hand.
“All right. Bloody hell.” I think about it, not going to do what you suggested, too fucking close to the truth. But, I consider the world you’ve just painted, and start talking.
“So . . . what you’re saying is some sort of alternate universe version of the American west? Say . . . you have two men, who’ve known each other their entire lives, love each other like . . . I don’t know what, but they have a sexual relationship in addition to their friendship. But that’s no big deal. Not what defines them. It just . . . is. But Alexander conquered most of the known world, just cause he had issues with daddy. How does that figure into your cowboys? And how do I do this audition?”
Dave: I hold my ground. You're not playing Alexander but I want you to see who your character will be to him from his point of view before we turn the tables and look at your character. You're fighting the process more than I thought you would, though, and I want to get you to find a channel, not scramble for an exit. I decide to back down a few steps and look at this another way.
"That's it - you've done science fiction already, and in a way this parallels that. It's an alternate universe. One in which men routinely share sex mingled with their friendships, and bond in a way that's frowned on in modern day society, for the most part. That's good insight, Karl. The sex, it just... is. Approach it without any hesitation or excuse. Don't blink an eye at any physical touch or verbal innuendo, because Hephaestion wouldn't. You've got an edge on most, you're used to this kind of eye and physical contact. Exploit that."
You do bring up an interesting point. "You know, I've got no clue how the daddy issues would play out in the old west." I quirk a smile at you. "But doesn't that have you curious what Baz might come up with?"
Karl: As visually stunning as all his movies have been, I think he could do a hell of a job with this and tell you so. I know you’re trying to help me, so I pull in my wandering thoughts and concentrate on what you’re saying.
“All right, so when I meet with DiCaprio, who incidentally is the very top of the A list and that’s scary as shit, I act like getting physical with him is just natural. These guys have known each other since they were kids, probably started wanking each other as soon as puberty hit. So . . . they’d be totally comfortable around each other. Fuck, I hope you’re right about all this, cause if he’s flying to Sydney to meet me, I’m only going to get one shot at it.”
Dave: "Hey. It's a lot easier to layer on nervousness onto your character than it is to remove it. Went through a lot of that process with Johnny Spitieri. The guy was pretty solidly hateful at first, but I built up some cracks in that veneer until we got him where he needed to be. Should work with this role, too. Start him out as solid and totally comfortable with all of it, and let Baz guide you on what levels of softening he needs added to tune in with his setting and vision. We can only second guess the guy so far, so let's just build you a good solid base for him to work up with."
Your beer's empty, and I pluck the bottle from your fingers and get up to stretch, and fetch us a couple more. As I slap the chilled fresh bottle in your good hand, I give you a straight on look, and hold your eyes. "You can do this. DiCaprio's on the A list, sure, but you're no slouch at all. Leo's gonna be thrown for a loop playing against you. Mate, remember that. You're not a standard cookie-cutter issue co-star. You're one of a kind, and that's gonna be on him to live up to."
Karl: I’m so used to playing tough guys, and it’s been years since I’ve even done comedy, and this is likely to be drama of a very intense kind. I really don’t know if I have it in me to be this kind of actor, but I guess I won’t know till I try it. But I appreciate your faith in me. “At least I’m bigger than he is, there’s that. And I’ve been in a movie that’s almost as big as his, plus it won the same amount of Oscars.”
I grin at you, and salute you with my beer before taking a swig. Whatever happened after, I guess the Lord of the Rings was a good thing.
Dave: That's better. Relax, enjoy the research and it'll sink into you, ready to spring loose when it's called for. "Hell yeah, you're bigger than him. And you know I think our movie's got any of his knocked on Oscar's sorry ass. But, maybe I'm a bit biased there." I give you a wink and take a deep drink. Maybe this is enough for today, you really were reeling at the start and I don't want to push you too far.
"So. You want to meet up tomorrow? See if we can run a scene? There's one in your folder, and it's... well, odd, but I think we could make a go of it. Best to sleep on what we've gone over first, get that tamped down in your mind first though. I could come over to your place for a change, sound good?"
Karl: I nod, taking it easy sounds like a good thing to me. “You’re the expert. Just ring me whenever you get going, I’ll be around. Hand’s got my activities sort of a limited at the moment.”
“Thanks, mate.” It feels good, having something to worry over other than the sorry mess my life is. When I get home, I go straight to bed, early as it is. I think I’m making up for lost time, because all I seem to want to do anymore is sleep.
There’s only one bloody problem with this pile, though. They’re all some variation of characters I’ve played before. Some badass or another on one side or another, killing his way through anyone who gets in his way.
After what I’ve seen and what I’ve done, I don’t think I can play a bloke like that right at the moment. I’ve committed myself to Outlander already, but I hope by October I can manage that role. It hurts, thinking that one of the attractive things about that project is that it’s filming here, in Zid and I took it so I wouldn’t have to leave Eric. I push him out of my mind and continue to go over sheets.
So after I put all of the pages that creep me out in the ‘no’ pile there’s only one left. This one has possibilities. There’s a note on it from Sid that reads, “They like your physical presence on screen, but they’re not sure you can also do sensitive and sexy. I sent them the extended edition of Return of the King, but they want to do a screen test with you to see if there’s any heat between you and DiCaprio. If you’re agreeable, I’ll set it up.”
I tap the pages thoughtfully against the cast on my palm. Good thing I started growing my hair out again, it’ll have to be long for this one. This director could really change things for me, but I’ve never met him before and I’m not sure how to approach the audition. He’s offbeat and his movies are surreal and I’ve got no bloody idea how to handle him.
Luckily, I do know someone who has worked for him that I can call for advice. And maybe it’s time I started reaching out for my friends, not to burden them with my problems, but just to reassure myself that they’re still there. If nothing else, that ride with Jay showed me that holing up like I have been has just been hurting me worse.
Don’t need to look this number up. “Dave?”
Dave: I'd been expecting a call from my mum this afternoon, and it's a good thing I glanced at the display on the cell before saying anything endearing. "Karl? Hey, how're you doing, mate?"
It's been a bit since we've talked, I suppose I should call more often myself, but time slips away sometimes. "Sorry I haven't rang you lately, got caught up in projects, was in Auckland for a bit, horse got feeling ill.... no excuse though, I shouldn't neglect my friends. So, what's up?"
Karl: I listen to you nattering on and I know this was the right thing to do. Just the familiarity of your mouth running on about nothing is reassuring. “Got a little problem here that I thought my friendly neighborhood cross-dresser could help with.” I stop, wondering if that was something I’d say normally, teasing you. Fuck, I don’t remember how to behave naturally anymore.
I clear my throat nervously. “Anyway, I don’t know if you’ve heard, but Baz Luhrmann is reviving his Alexander project. He’s interested in me playing Hephaestion to Leonardo DiCaprio’s Alexander. But he wants an audition. And all I’ve got to go on is a story treatment that’s beyond vague.”
My feet have been traveling around in circles while I’m talking. Gonna have to refinish the floor if this keeps up. “Knowing you made cinematic history and had the whole world stunned by your sheer talent as Audrey, was hoping you could give me some tips . . . . or something.”
Dave: Oh, Christ. Karl's in for a treat. I'd met up with Baz for drinks a few weeks, no, wait, a couple of months ago and he'd gone on about a few of his concepts for Alexander. I remember it was three in the morning before I'd gotten loose from him, once you get that man talking, he just won't wind down quickly. Not that I minded one bit! There's something very freeing about Baz and his visions. The man's just a damned joy to work with, as far as I'm concerned.
You don't sound overjoyed at the prospect, though, in fact, I can't quite put my finger on what it is you sound like. The teasing's there, just a bit off, and you sound nervous. "Hey, Baz is great, this would be a wonderful chance for you, Karl. Want to get together and you can tell me about this vague story treatment?"
Karl I let out a breath. “Thanks, mate. I’ll give you everything his production company has sent me, but I warn you, it’s really not much. I guess he thinks everyone already knows the story.”
We make arrangements to meet at your cabin, for which I’m grateful. Another thing I’ve learned these past days is that the way to keep the walls where they belong and not trapping me is to get away from them frequently. It’ll be an effort trying to pretend that everything’s normal, but I know your silliness will keep the darkness away, for a little while.
I’m getting used to trying to shift gears with just my fingertips. I couldn’t have managed this if I still owned the beast, I think, but this new truck shifts like silk. But my fingers are aching by the time I pull up at your cabin.
Dave: I hear your truck pull up, and head out onto the porch to greet you with a wave. You trudge up, a folder under one arm, and a cast on the other? The hell? It's a thin folder. Baz really didn't give you much. "Hey, mate - got beer's chilled and some chips and guacamole. Missing Hugo, I guess, be nice to share the green goop with a friend." I give you a sideways look as I grab two icy bottles and hand you one, I still can't quite get a hold of what's off with you. I drop onto the couch and slap the empty space next to me. "It's just Baz, he likes to throw people off kilter. Gives him something new to work with. Don't take his vagueness personally. Um, Karl... really, it's just a script, we'll have some fun with this. You look like you could use some fun. And what happened to your arm? Your horse throw you?"
Karl: I roll my eyes at that, I’m not the one that gets thrown. But I frown. Too bad I didn’t think of that one before I told my story to Éomer. My ego could stand that battering I suppose. Best to keep my stories straight though. I shrug.
“Bar fight. Some fucker thought he’d impress his mates by taking me on. I didn’t dodge fast enough, that’s all.”
I sit beside you, taking the beer, and ignoring the chips, saying I ate before I came over. I hand you the folder with the note from Sid still attached, hoping it will help you make sense out of it. “It’s a chance for me to do something different, his movies get a lot of critical attention and not just for the special effects. But fuck if I know what he’s looking for.”
Dave: "Gotta stay out of those bar fights, Karl. Bad enough you're all banged up... again... I'm gonna start keeping a list of how many times I've seen you like this. It's hard on you, and doesn't do you any favors in director's eyes." I flip through the folder, it's pretty sparse, all right, basic information on Alexander and .. hmm, never could pronounce that name right, Hephaistion. Baz has guts, taking this project on so soon after Oliver did, and I remember telling him so to his face. He'd laughed and ordered a plate of spagetti, giving me a broad wink. I'd wondered what that was about. I read the note clipped to the folder. "Keep up with your riding, and be ready for anything." Really helpful, that.
Or is it? Oh, holy hell, it is. Riding horses. Spagetti. Baz, you bastard, you wouldn't, would you? Oh, you would.
"I take it back, Karl. The banged-up look just might win you this part, though the cast is too much. You'll get that off soon, I hope? And tell me. Have you watched many Sergio Leone films?"
Karl: How is banged up going to help me get something that’s supposed to be sensitive according to Sid? Sergio Leone? Oh, yeah. Clint Eastwood and hardly any dialogue, I remember now.
“American Westerns, right? Except not in America?” I know my face must show my utter confusion. My mind doesn’t work like yours does, that’s obvious. “Cowboys and Indians instead of Greeks and Persians? How?” I trail off, not even sure what to ask.
Dave: I nod absently, lost in thought, and sip thoughtfully on my beer. "Baz loved 'Paint Your Wagon', but he's not likely to do another musical just yet ... but damn, the feel he could give to an updated spaghetti Western.” I twist on the couch and give you a huge grin. "And exactly. You're getting it. Cowboys and Indians. Alexander wouldn't be a king, he'd be..." I wave my hands, trying to figure it out. "I don't know. An authority figure, but one that isn't office bound. A Marshall. A sheriff. And Hephaestion would be his deputy. He dies, right? Gunfight. Showdown. Drawn pistols at dawn, and the sheriff's left without his right hand man. But, it's Alexander. He's devastated." You're gaping at me like I'm drinking drugged beer, and maybe I am, it's hard to know! "I wouldn't even venture to guess how Baz would end it."
Karl: I gawp at you and then shut my mouth with an angry click. “You know I can’t fucking sing.” Paint Your Wagon? This is a really bad idea. I’m out of my depth and I don’t think I can do this anymore. I’ll just do Outlander and retire, go brew wine with Aunt June. The world doesn’t really need yet another actor. And Wellington can just muddle along without me . . . I seem to poison everything I touch anyway.
“They both died of illness within a few months of each other,” I say vaguely. “I don’t know how to do this, how to play an American deputy in love with his sheriff in Baz Luhrmann’s world. I’m not . . . quirky. “ Evidently, I don’t know how to properly be in love, so how can I possibly act like it. And I can’t do sensitive and sexy, because I’m neither. “So I’m sorry to bother you with it.”
Dave: I'm about to make a smartass comment about your lack of singing ability, when I realize you've practically dismissed the project - and again with a tone in your voice that's sad and confusing. And dammit, a bit irritating. This could potentially be a fantastic project, and I won't let it slip through your fingers this easily. You're a damned fine actor, and it's time you showed it. I am too, and I'm going to act like you're still with me on this, so here we go.
"Baz is pulling two cultures together for this project, that much we do know. Maybe I'm close to the mark on what he's going to hit you with, and maybe I'm not, but there's one thing I do know. It's something I read up on when I was trying to figure out my own sexuality, Karl. Alexander and Hephaestion probably weren't lovers in the modern day sense of the word. Alexander had three wives and a couple of mistresses. But Hephaestion was his closest, oldest friend, and sex between them would have been perfectly acceptable in their culture. We're not talking moony-eyed furtive lovers here." Okay, Dave, make a point before he just gets up and leaves. "You say you're not quirky. Maybe you're not. But you are one of the most loyal friends I've ever had. And I know you'd do anything for your mates. How would you feel if your closest friend died fighting a battle you'd gotten them into? Go with that, Karl. See if you can tap into that feeling. And then just free form some words at me."
Karl: Grimly, I shut down any memories of what happened to the friends that did go to battle for me. “I’m not supposed to be playing Alexander,” I protest, and then hold up a hand.
“All right. Bloody hell.” I think about it, not going to do what you suggested, too fucking close to the truth. But, I consider the world you’ve just painted, and start talking.
“So . . . what you’re saying is some sort of alternate universe version of the American west? Say . . . you have two men, who’ve known each other their entire lives, love each other like . . . I don’t know what, but they have a sexual relationship in addition to their friendship. But that’s no big deal. Not what defines them. It just . . . is. But Alexander conquered most of the known world, just cause he had issues with daddy. How does that figure into your cowboys? And how do I do this audition?”
Dave: I hold my ground. You're not playing Alexander but I want you to see who your character will be to him from his point of view before we turn the tables and look at your character. You're fighting the process more than I thought you would, though, and I want to get you to find a channel, not scramble for an exit. I decide to back down a few steps and look at this another way.
"That's it - you've done science fiction already, and in a way this parallels that. It's an alternate universe. One in which men routinely share sex mingled with their friendships, and bond in a way that's frowned on in modern day society, for the most part. That's good insight, Karl. The sex, it just... is. Approach it without any hesitation or excuse. Don't blink an eye at any physical touch or verbal innuendo, because Hephaestion wouldn't. You've got an edge on most, you're used to this kind of eye and physical contact. Exploit that."
You do bring up an interesting point. "You know, I've got no clue how the daddy issues would play out in the old west." I quirk a smile at you. "But doesn't that have you curious what Baz might come up with?"
Karl: As visually stunning as all his movies have been, I think he could do a hell of a job with this and tell you so. I know you’re trying to help me, so I pull in my wandering thoughts and concentrate on what you’re saying.
“All right, so when I meet with DiCaprio, who incidentally is the very top of the A list and that’s scary as shit, I act like getting physical with him is just natural. These guys have known each other since they were kids, probably started wanking each other as soon as puberty hit. So . . . they’d be totally comfortable around each other. Fuck, I hope you’re right about all this, cause if he’s flying to Sydney to meet me, I’m only going to get one shot at it.”
Dave: "Hey. It's a lot easier to layer on nervousness onto your character than it is to remove it. Went through a lot of that process with Johnny Spitieri. The guy was pretty solidly hateful at first, but I built up some cracks in that veneer until we got him where he needed to be. Should work with this role, too. Start him out as solid and totally comfortable with all of it, and let Baz guide you on what levels of softening he needs added to tune in with his setting and vision. We can only second guess the guy so far, so let's just build you a good solid base for him to work up with."
Your beer's empty, and I pluck the bottle from your fingers and get up to stretch, and fetch us a couple more. As I slap the chilled fresh bottle in your good hand, I give you a straight on look, and hold your eyes. "You can do this. DiCaprio's on the A list, sure, but you're no slouch at all. Leo's gonna be thrown for a loop playing against you. Mate, remember that. You're not a standard cookie-cutter issue co-star. You're one of a kind, and that's gonna be on him to live up to."
Karl: I’m so used to playing tough guys, and it’s been years since I’ve even done comedy, and this is likely to be drama of a very intense kind. I really don’t know if I have it in me to be this kind of actor, but I guess I won’t know till I try it. But I appreciate your faith in me. “At least I’m bigger than he is, there’s that. And I’ve been in a movie that’s almost as big as his, plus it won the same amount of Oscars.”
I grin at you, and salute you with my beer before taking a swig. Whatever happened after, I guess the Lord of the Rings was a good thing.
Dave: That's better. Relax, enjoy the research and it'll sink into you, ready to spring loose when it's called for. "Hell yeah, you're bigger than him. And you know I think our movie's got any of his knocked on Oscar's sorry ass. But, maybe I'm a bit biased there." I give you a wink and take a deep drink. Maybe this is enough for today, you really were reeling at the start and I don't want to push you too far.
"So. You want to meet up tomorrow? See if we can run a scene? There's one in your folder, and it's... well, odd, but I think we could make a go of it. Best to sleep on what we've gone over first, get that tamped down in your mind first though. I could come over to your place for a change, sound good?"
Karl: I nod, taking it easy sounds like a good thing to me. “You’re the expert. Just ring me whenever you get going, I’ll be around. Hand’s got my activities sort of a limited at the moment.”
“Thanks, mate.” It feels good, having something to worry over other than the sorry mess my life is. When I get home, I go straight to bed, early as it is. I think I’m making up for lost time, because all I seem to want to do anymore is sleep.