April 13.
What would happen, then, when a great role makes everything travel into a life of its own? What happens when things can be taken down a path that forges discomfort? Billy only needed to fix his hair, cut short with a clean trim; every trace of his beard was removed.
They styled him carefully, a young man of the era who seemed to come alive through it. Even if they denied it, and even if no one wanted to do anything logical or detached. Billy's performance was merely a result in which he acted in the most minimal way; all the weight of the work fell on the actresses, Cate and Jude. No one wants to do the bare minimum or put up with the interference of a kid who is nothing more than a spark that seems to give an unusual kind of life to the people around him—and yet, Billy's performances are honest.
—Well, I suppose roles can end up playing me— he replied with delicacy and simplicity. Billy was very good at acting when he wanted to. Always, and sometimes, he hit the mark—at least when they tried to make him look young, it was always a good opportunity for people. Billy always tried to be that small character who brings things to life and steps forward. With the help of Robert Pattinson, a young man who seemed to live entirely within his career and breathe life into it. His acting skills were just enough for the life and the speeches the boy found in scripts to come through what he portrayed, and Billy followed what the young man explained with a certain purpose whenever he stayed there.
—I think you have to be gentle, in a way that knows when to stop and when to move forward. Your character's performances need to be rough, and at the same time sensitive in their own way— Robert replied.
—I have to push someone to the limit— Billy whispered.
—That's where trust comes into play, if you pay attention. When kids are in school, they think they're invincible and try to make others feel that kind of life. Hidden and distant. That foolish confidence where teenagers seem cruel and act on instinct, willing to commit acts that might even be sinful—but that doesn't matter, because men are afraid— Robert Pattinson replied, unwilling to deny the flickers of life. A slow performance, one that doesn't try too hard; the words were like sighs. Perhaps they're right, in a way—Billy needs to soften a young man who looks like a grown man, and persuade others that he is more than that. And when everything else stops mattering, what remains is minimal—it is the spark in people.
—I want to believe I need to be more cruel, or maybe just a little stronger— Billy replied.
—Just do the work. You're not the star, but you seem like one— Robert commented, weighing his words. —Give that arrogant look you make when you beat us at PlayStation, and that might be exactly what the director needs. Treat the role like an expulsion, like giving a sense of risk to the people who come close. Make every action count—make it harsh, make it uncomfortable for others. And then end it—
It was difficult for Billy. He knew a lot about that step he needed to take, and he knew even more about when something was about to take root. Whoever wants to do something must understand that nothing can reject life or the moments one subscribes to. But acting quality was the beginning, and if everything else were set aside, nothing beyond that would matter, and none of it would come to life.
—So you think I should do the bare minimum of my abilities and not step outside the director's line— Billy replied.
—Yes— he answered simply, because there was something binding them together. Billy had skill—his way of doing things, his way of acting, and the small details. Things that were assumed, that hovered in the midday, and everything in between was suspended by a simple truth: to learn, to practice, and to surpass the rest when needed, while everything else falls away into the simplicity of actors.
—I heard you have a new film— Billy commented.
—The Haunted Aviator— Robert replied with a nod. He was willing to do the bare minimum, the next roles passing through his mind, chosen carefully—from leading roles to supporting ones—and he would remain there, within all the work he did as an actor. Robert had a particular way of acting, and when he did, nothing else mattered.
—I think I'm lucky. There are some roles that suit me well— Billy replied. —But it feels like I arrived too late for others. Sometimes we're just lucky, and the rest is history. So what can you do then? Keep going—and steal roles where they need someone who can freeze women with a glance—
—Actually, you could do that— Robert replied, then walking off to use the PlayStation and unwind. For Billy, nothing more was needed. His phone vibrated, and he could tell it was either Scarlett or perhaps Emma—one of the two. Emma became intense when she knew he was in the United Kingdom, torn between the fear of seeing him and the fear of not seeing him when he arrived, when his obligations passed and he sent that faint trace of movement that always kept her focused.
Of course, the difference with Scarlett was that with her there was always information, given in small pieces. While he thought of her as a wife, even though the rest of it bothered him.
—So you've got two films—the war one and the one about teachers. I heard you turned down a kids' movie— Robert said.
—How did you hear about that?— the boy asked, moving his hand, still focused on the video game, unwilling to step away from what was right in front of him.
—Well, my agent tried to get me the role, but I was too young—and I didn't have a beard. It gave me a strange look; it doesn't grow in well, and, well, there were better candidates— Robert replied. Agents stood in their place, where rumors danced and everything settled into its own course.
—I see. That's a little scary— Billy replied.
—Believe me, the same thing has happened to me— Robert replied. Everything faded to the side when each of them needed money.
—It happens to all of us— Billy replied.
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