Chapter 12: Everything Is Hard at the Beginning.
Dry yellow leaves drifted lazily from the trees lining the old street. Philadelphia in autumn already carried a faint chill in the air.
David Fincher stood in front of an aged apartment building, directing the crew as they set up lights and positioned cameras. This was his first time helming a feature film, so he was naturally cautious. He didn't micromanage every task, but he demanded perfection in every detail.
"Amy!" David Fincher called for his assistant director. "Where are the actors? Why aren't they here yet? Am I supposed to shoot an empty street?"
"David, don't worry," the assistant director explained quickly. "I just spoke with Mr. Al Pacino — he'll be here any minute. But the car we sent for Miss Nicole Kidman and Mr. Ryan Jenkins broke down halfway. They've called a taxi and are on their way now."
"Damn it!" David Fincher muttered under his breath. Filming hadn't even started and they were already running into problems. On top of that, he still hadn't met the boy playing the lead child role. He had no idea what Harvey Weinstein was thinking, but he hoped the kid was at least half as good as the producer claimed. No — even half would be enough.
"They're here, they're here — that's them." The assistant director pointed at a taxi pulling up to the curb.
David Fincher looked over immediately. The first thing he saw was a tall, stunningly beautiful woman with a cool aura. She was very tall and very attractive. But in the next instant, his full attention was stolen by the boy she was holding hands with.
The child had a slender, almost fragile build that looked like a strong wind could knock him over. His light brown hair was messy, covering a somewhat pale face. Beneath the quiet appearance lay a quiet strength and an indescribable presence. Especially those sky-blue eyes — they occasionally flashed with a knowing light that seemed to see through everything.
Yes! That was Cole! The moment he saw the boy, the image in David Fincher's mind matched perfectly. He didn't know about the kid's acting ability yet, but in terms of appearance, no one could have been more perfect.
Alright. Harvey Weinstein might be a bit mercenary, but at least he hadn't disappointed when it came to casting.
"Nicole, is this Philadelphia's old district? It really does look ancient." Ryan's eyes darted around curiously. In the world he remembered from his previous life, buildings this old would have been demolished long ago for land sales.
"Yeah, they say it's one of the oldest neighborhoods in America."
The answer actually came from Pat Kingsley. As a proper American, she knew Philadelphia's history far better than Nicole.
Holding Nicole Kidman's hand, Ryan walked along the narrow path between the low hedges until they reached the apartment.
The assistant director who had already met them quickly made the introductions.
"Director Fincher, hello. It's a pleasure to meet you. You can call me Ryan." Ryan's manners were flawless. Just as Nicole always said — when he wanted to, he was the perfect little gentleman. His behavior instantly won the director over. "Alright, Ryan. Pleasure to meet you too."
As the director in charge, he of course knew who had written the screenplay. Even though he had practically worn the script out from reading it so many times, meeting the real author still left him stunned. An outstanding story like this coming from a boy not even ten years old was almost unbelievable. Were all kids born after 1980 this monstrously talented?
After greeting the crew, Ryan was taken straight to makeup. Since this was his first time filming a movie, he was curious about everything. But he also knew why he was here — this wasn't school or home where he could act however he wanted. He forced himself to stay still and let the makeup artist work on his face.
Damn it, I'm a boy. What's with all this powder and paint? Ryan looked at his increasingly pale reflection in the mirror and grumbled inwardly.
"Mr. Pacino, hello!"
A sudden voice came from the doorway of the temporary makeup room.
"Al Pacino?" Ryan had known for weeks who he would be acting opposite. It was still only 1989 — unless Harvey Weinstein had lost his mind, there was no way he would have chosen Bruce Willis.
That guy was still a stone-faced action star back then.
But he had never expected the fat producer to pick Al Pacino for the male lead. Well, right now Al Pacino was actually in a career slump, and the movie needed an Oscar-level actor to boost box-office appeal. The two sides had probably clicked instantly.
The moment the makeup artist finished, Ryan jumped out of the chair. With lightning speed he pulled an autograph book and pen from his backpack and thrust them in front of Al Pacino, who had just sat down.
"Mr. Al Pacino, could you please sign an autograph for me?" Ryan stared with wide, adoring eyes at the legendary middle-aged actor who could become anyone on screen.
"No problem. You are…"
"Ryan. Ryan Jenkins. I'm the lonely little boy you're going to help and guide in this movie."
"Alright, Ryan. You can call me Al." True to his reputation as a veteran, the warmth and kindness came naturally.
"Ryan, may you always be healthy and happy." Al Pacino added a short message after his signature. Ryan grinned like he had just received a treasure from his idol. "Thank you, Al. It's awesome to get to act with you."
Perhaps because of his age, or perhaps because of the bright and cheerful personality he showed, Ryan won Al Pacino's affection without much effort. By the time he changed into the American elementary school uniform and walked out of makeup, the two of them were already chatting and laughing. Ryan even took the chance to ask a few questions about acting.
The first scenes to be shot were Al Pacino's as the psychologist Malcolm. Ryan finally got to witness true Oscar-level acting. After just a few simple rehearsals, Al slipped straight into character.
"Cut! Excellent!" David Fincher clapped his hands hard, encouraging the entire crew.
"Ten-minute break."
They had just filmed Malcolm walking down the street. Even though Philadelphia's autumn already carried a chill, Al was sweating under the trench coat and scarf once the take was done.
"Nervous, Ryan?" Nicole took his hand and gently rubbed his palm with her thumb, trying to calm him. His first scene was coming up next.
"Not nervous." Ryan denied it instantly, but when he met Nicole's knowing gaze he let out a long breath. "Okay, fine. I admit I'm a little nervous. But that's normal, right? Nicole, were you nervous the first time you acted?"
"Of course. I was so nervous I forgot my lines." Nicole smiled. "Here's a good tip: imagine everyone around you as rocks. It helps a lot."
"Can I imagine them as potatoes? Or onions and tomatoes?"
Perhaps because they wanted to start easy, or perhaps because they lacked confidence in him, Ryan's very first shot was simple: Cole walking out of the apartment, locking the door, and leaving. Easy, right?
"Cut! That's a wrap."
They only needed two rehearsals and one real take. Of course, it wasn't because Ryan suddenly exploded with acting talent — it was a wide, distant shot. All he had to do was open the door and glance around carefully.
But the next shot was a close-up. Ryan had to put on glasses and show a careful, cautious, slightly fearful expression.
"Cut! Ryan, relax. Make it natural."
"Cut! Ryan, you're too stiff."
"Cut! Ryan, stop looking at the camera lens."
"..."
This time it was even worse. Ryan looked at the glasses that had fallen at his feet and gave a bitter smile. Good thing David Fincher wasn't James Cameron, or…
David Fincher frowned deeply. He had years of experience shooting commercials and music videos, so he knew exactly how hard it was to get a child into the right performance state. Before filming he had talked with the boy and seen how smart and mature he was, which had eased his worries by half. Yet more than half an hour had passed and the kid still hadn't improved at all.
"Nicole, should we go comfort Ryan?" Pat Kingsley asked, worried.
"No need. Ryan is stronger than anyone." Nicole Kidman shook her head slowly but firmly. No one noticed the worry and heartache hidden behind her cool expression. "Since he chose this path, he has to face it himself."
Ryan clenched his fists so tightly that his arms trembled slightly. Only when he actually tried did he realize how much harder some things were than he had imagined — like the blunder the other day, and today's filming.
"Cut!" After another break and another failed take, David Fincher walked over and spoke quietly. "Ryan, do you know where the problem is?"
"About a third is because I suddenly spaced out, a third because my body went stiff and shaky, and the last third because I couldn't stop looking at the camera lens."
To David Fincher's surprise, Ryan knew exactly what his problems were. He patted the boy's arm. "Is there anything I can help with?"
"Can you give me ten minutes? I need to be alone for a bit." Ryan first gave Nicole a reassuring look from afar, then turned hopeful eyes to the director. "Trust me, okay, David? I can fix this myself."
The boy's words and expression gave him an inexplicable confidence. David Fincher nodded. "Alright! Ten-minute break!"
"Obviously, I need a copy of An Actor Prepares." As Ryan opened the apartment door to step inside, he muttered a line that left David Fincher utterly confused.