章 139: Improved immersion
After Lucas's interview and other preliminaries, Woody said, "Now that we've heard your take on the character and your ideas for Gil, let's see you become him."
Lucas nodded, took a deep breath to center himself, then effortlessly transitioned into the role of Gil.
This swift transformation captured the attention of Woody and the casting directors.
Indeed, diving into a character is no small feat, and it's something only truly skilled actors can accomplish. Yet, Lucas was able to immerse himself so quickly it was impressive.
After all, most actors need at least a few minutes, if not hours, to fully delve into their roles.
Lucas positioned himself at the marked spot, script in hand, yet his eyes never once darted down to its pages—a clear sign he had committed every line to memory.
Woody and the casting directors watched, their curiosity piqued as the audition began.
An audition reader, standing off to the side, assumed the role of Hemingway, setting the scene with a gruff inquisitiveness.
"What are you writing?" the reader inquired, his tone devoid of emotion. Yet, Lucas, immersed in his role as Gil, infused the question with an imagined curiosity.
"A novel," Lucas responded, embodying Gil's blend of hopeful aspiration and cautious restraint.
As Lucas delved deeper into the character, the world around him seemed to shift through his perception. The audition reader, initially delivering Hemingway's lines in a flat, uninspired manner, gradually transformed in Lucas's mind. No longer just a voice from the sidelines, the reader became the embodiment of Hemingway as Lucas had envisioned him in the countless rehearsals of his mental workshop. This shift, though subtle, helped Lucas sink even further into the depths of his character.
"About what?" Hemingway prodded further.
"A man who works in a nostalgia shop," Gil offered, a touch of wistfulness in his tone.
"What the hell's a nostalgia shop?" Hemingway's bafflement was palpable.
Lucas, embodying Gil's gentle enthusiasm, explained, "Where they sell old things—memorabilia. Does that sound terrible to you?"
Hemingway's reply came firm and unwavering, "No subject is terrible if the story is true. If the prose is clean and honest and if it affirms courage and grace under pressure."
The room could almost feel Lucas's heart rate spike as Gil ventured into vulnerability, "Would you do me the biggest favor in the world—I can't even ask—"
"What?" Hemingway's interruption was swift.
"Would you read it?" The hope in Gil's voice was fragile, almost fearful.
"Your novel?"
"It's only about four hundred pages—if you could just give me your opinion."
The blunt dismissal was unexpected, "My opinion is I hate it."
"You do?" Gil's disappointment was palpable.
"If it's bad I'll hate it because I hate bad writing and if it's good I'll be envious and hate it all the more. You don't want the opinion of another writer."
Gil's rebuttal revealed Lucas's depth in the character, "But there's no one I really trust to evaluate it—"
"Writers are competitive."
"I could never compete with you—"
"You're too self-effacing—it's not manly. If you're a writer, declare yourself the best writer—but you're not the best as long as I'm around. Unless you want to put the gloves on and settle it."
"No—no—that's okay." Gil's reluctance was clear, yet a glimmer of hope remained.
"I won't read your novel but I'll tell you what I'll do."
"Yes?" Gil perked up, eager.
"I'll bring it over to Gertrude Stein. She's the only one I trust to read my work. No one discovers new talent like Gert—whether it's poetry, painting, music—She'll tell you if you have a book or not."
The possibility of having Gertrude Stein read his novel brought a glow to Gil's, to Lucas's face, "You could have Gertrude Stein read my novel?"
"Give it to me."
"I have to get it. It's at the hotel."
"She gets back from Spain tomorrow."
Lucas's eyes widened with genuine excitement, his hands trembling slightly to reveal the surge of emotion coursing through him. "I'm so thrilled," he began, placing a hand over his heart as if to calm its racing beats, "my heart is beating." He took a step forward, his eyes shining with gratitude and disbelief.
"I'll go home and get it," he said, turning slightly as if ready to dash off that very moment, his movements brisk and filled with purpose. He then paused, turning back to face Hemingway, his hands reaching out in a gesture of offering and plea, "I'll give it to you—I can't tell you what this means to me."
The intensity of the moment seemed to swell within him, "To have Gertrude Stein read my novel—" he trailed off, momentarily lost in the overwhelming prospect. Regaining his composure, he repeated with heartfelt sincerity, "Thank you, thank you." His head bowed slightly, a universal sign of deep respect and gratitude, as he slowly backed away, each step heavy with the weight of the opportunity before him.
After some time, Lucas's audition came to a close. As he slowly disentangled himself from the depths of his character, it felt as though he was emerging back into reality, only to find Woody and the casting directors observing him intently.
Woody broke the silence, his voice carrying a note of genuine admiration. "I won't sugarcoat it—your performance was impressive." His praise was measured, suggesting a cautious optimism. "However," he continued, "I'd like to see more from you before making any final decisions."
Lucas nodded, his expression one of understanding and appreciation for the feedback.
Initially, Woody was under the impression that while Lucas had delivered a compelling performance in "127 Hours," he might not be able to stand toe-to-toe with seasoned actors like Owen Wilson, who brought a wealth of experience beyond the intense, harrowing portrayal Lucas had shown in "127 Hours." However, witnessing Lucas's performance today complicated matters significantly. Woody and the casting directors were faced with a tough decision, knowing they had to choose between Lucas Knight and Owen Wilson for the role of Gil. This newfound dilemma reflected the unexpected depth and versatility Lucas brought to the table, challenging their initial perceptions and making the casting choice all the more difficult.
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