All That Lies Within

by Lynn Ames

  Rebecca smirked. What would the kids think if Dara moved her chair over about three feet and into their line of sight?

  As if reading her mind, Dara passed her a note. Rebecca glanced down at it. Want to have some fun with the kids?

  Rebecca pursed her lips in thought. Since Dara most often was sitting in the makeup chair at this hour, there might never be another opportunity like this. On the other hand, it would completely blow up her lesson plan. Beyond that, what if Dara accidentally slipped and said something that only Constance would know? She wrote on the paper, Are you sure?

  Dara nodded.

  “As a matter of fact,” Rebecca said. “I might just be able to pull a string or two.”

  “Yeah? Never mind the guy who plays Harold. We want to meet Dara Thomas.”

  “Now, Clint, that’s only because you have a thing for Celeste, right?” Rebecca raised an eyebrow and pointed into the camera.

  Clint feigned innocence. “Well, duh. Why else?” He smiled mischievously.

  Rebecca grabbed the scrap of paper back. Seriously? You know that there are teenaged boys in my class, right?

  I’ll be fine.

  “Well, since you asked so nicely, and since I know you will all comport yourselves like the ladies and gentlemen you are, let me snap my fingers here and, since this is Hollywood, maybe I can make something, or someone, magically appear.”

  Dara scooted her chair over so that she and Rebecca were side by side in front of the webcam.

  “Holy shit!” Clint exclaimed.

  “Profound, Clint. Everyone, please meet Dara Thomas, who is playing Celeste.”

  Dara waved into the webcam. “Hi, folks. Welcome to Hollywood, where we can take any three hundred-plus page book and boil it down to two hours that might or might not bear any resemblance to the novel you’re studying right now.”

  “Obviously, this changes the lecture I so painstakingly prepared for today. So, how about if I open up the floor for questions. Raise your hand if you have one, don’t just talk over each other. And here are a few more ground rules. Confine your questions to something remotely related to On the Wings of Angels—the book or the movie. I’m pretty sure Dara is very familiar with the novel.” Rebecca stole a glance at Dara, who remarkably kept an absolutely straight face.

  “I’ve read the book a few times,” she said. “Look, when you’re working on an adaptation, any adaptation, you have to treat the material as if it is original. Still, I think it’s valuable and important to understand the source material. I’d love to play Celeste as true as possible to the character as she was originally written. I’m counting on your professor, here, to help make that possible.”

  Rebecca blushed. “Okay. So, if you ask a personal question, we’re done. Is everybody clear?”

  The students answered with a chorus of “yeses.”

  “Who wants to ask the first question?” A dozen hands shot up. Rebecca silently evaluated each of the kids, zeroing in on the ones she thought would ask the most responsible, most interesting questions. “Christie?”

  “Ms. Thomas—”

  “Call me Dara, please.”

  Christie smiled shyly. “Okay. Dara, what was it about Celeste that made you want to play her?”

  “Good question, Christie. For me, Celeste is this very layered, rich character. At first glance, she seems pretty straight-forward—she’s just an aimless, unmotivated, unfocused thirty-year-old doing everything she can to avoid life. Then we see her interacting with Harold, and all of a sudden we realize that there’s a lot more there than meets the eye. She’s totally misunderstood.

  “As an actress, I love the challenge of peeling an onion like Celeste scene by scene until the audience has this ‘aha’ moment where they finally ‘get’ her.”

  God, I could listen to you talk about your work forever and never tire of it. “Aaron, you have a question?”

  “Dara, since you’ve obviously read the book carefully, what happens if you get on set and the director, or the screenwriter, or the guy playing Harold, directs, writes, or plays the scene differently than the way you envision it?”

  “Wow. You’ve got sharp students,” Dara said to Rebecca. “Well, Aaron, that’s an excellent question. The shit hits the fan.” She winked into the webcam and the class erupted in a ripple of laughter. “No, seriously. The director has final say. He’s the boss on the set, so if he doesn’t like the way something looks, he has the power to order it to be rewritten or to explain to the actors what he wants them to do differently. It’s our job to make his vision a reality.”

  “So you don’t get any say?”

  “I didn’t say that. Depending on the director, he might listen to our opinion about a line or what we think our motivation is in a scene. If he agrees with us, great. If not, we have to suck it up and do it his way.”

  The questions and answers about the film, acting, and adapting a book into a film continued for the better part of an hour. Finally, Rebecca held up a hand to the webcam.

  “We have time for one last question. Make it count. Lisbeth?”

  “Dara, I saw on Extra last night that there’s trouble on the set. They said the screenwriter got fired and that there’s dissention on the set.”

  Rebecca jumped in. “If you have time to be watching trashy television, obviously I’m not assigning enough homework.” She opened her mouth to dismiss the students, but Dara put a hand on her knee out of sight of the camera.

  “Sometimes, although rarely,” Dara said, “the director and the screenwriter don’t see eye-to-eye about how a script needs to be revised and something has to give. In this case, we were extremely fortunate in that we had someone with extraordinary vision and a real feel for the story to set the script to rights.” Dara jabbed her thumb in Rebecca’s direction. “That would be your professor. I am completely confident that the movie will be a huge success, largely because of her work here.”

  Again, Rebecca blushed. “Okay. I think we’re done. On Thursday, we’re going to talk about the weather… As in weather as a metaphor in this novel. Until then, do try to keep yourselves out of trouble. I want to thank our very special guest, Dara Thomas, for her time and her generosity in stopping by to spend time with us, even though she isn’t due on set for another five hours.”

  “Thank you, Dara,” the kids all said in unison.

  “You’re welcome, guys. Before you go, I want you to know that Professor Minton is the real deal. You’re so lucky to have her. Make sure you treat her well.”

  “I’ll see you all on Thursday. Bye, guys.” Rebecca clicked out of the session and sat back. “Well, that was different.”

  “Different bad or different good?”

  “Different, as in the thrill of a lifetime for me and for these kids. Thank you so much for being so generous with your time and your answers. They’ll be talking about this morning for a long, long time.”

  “That was fun.”

  “Uh-huh.”

  “No, really. It was. Plus, I got to see you in action.” Dara’s smile was radiant.

  “Not exactly. Seeing me in action would require that I do something other than play traffic cop for you. Speaking of which, sorry about that last question.”

  “It was no big deal. Goes with the territory on a movie set. And it gave me an opportunity to put in a plug for you.”

  “That’s good, because you know, my creds were in question.”

  “As if,” Dara said. “Now what?”

  “Now we talk about Gatsby with a bunch of seniors…”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

  “The intent here is for Celeste to realize for the very first time that Harold needs her as much as she needs him. It’s the moment that gives her a new lease on life, a new purpose. This line,” Rebecca pointed to a place on the script, “is the most critical piece of dialogue in the scene.”

  “I agree,” George said. “Okay, so we’ll shoot those lines in tight and if we have to lose something, what about this right here?�
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  Dara caught herself staring at Rebecca and busied herself pretending to go over the script.

  “She really seems to know her stuff, eh?” Sam leaned against Dara’s chair.

  Hmm? Oh, you mean Reb—the professor? She does.” Oh, yes indeed. She certainly does.

  “What about that mess with Cal? Crazy stuff. I can’t remember the last time I ever saw something like that on a set.”

  “It was wild, but I have to say, I’m liking the new direction of the script.” Dara looked up at Sam to gauge his reaction. “Did you read the novel?”

  “As a matter of fact, I did. Loved the book. That’s why I signed on to play Harold. I’d read the novel and I heard they were looking to bring it to the big screen. I knew it was the best role I’d get at this age.” He winked at Dara. “You’re not nearly there yet, but trust me when I tell you that when you get to be this old, really well-written, meaty roles are much harder to come by. And,” he said, pushing off as the conference between George and Rebecca broke up, “I agree with you. The changes accentuate the depth of the original material in a way Cal’s version simply didn’t. Nothing against Cal, of course.”

  “Of course.”

  “I heard this was the professor’s first ever look at a screenplay. Could’ve fooled me. She’s like an old pro. I’ll have to remember to tell her that if I get a chance.”

  Dara smothered a grin. “I bet she’d appreciate hearing it from you, Sam. I imagine all this is pretty overwhelming to her. Knowing that we’re behind her might give her a real boost. I’ll remember to say something to her too.”

  “All right. Why is everybody standing around?” George joked. “Back to work with the lot of you. Here’s what we’re going to do…”

  “If you keep mooning like this, everyone on the set is going to know something’s going on,” Rebecca mumbled, admonishing herself. It was a conversation she’d been having with herself, with limited success, most of the day.

  Rebecca couldn’t help herself. Dara was astonishing in the part, now that it was written as she’d intended it to be played, and the shooting was going exceptionally smoothly.

  At the moment, Dara and Sam were sitting on a park bench, watching some trained pigeons peck at breadcrumbs on the manufactured sidewalk in front of them. Three cameras focused on the action while Harold spoke of longing for his wife as he dropped off to sleep at night and the unfairness of losing her while they still had so much living left to do.

  “And, cut! Print that,” George yelled.

  “Okay, everybody,” Audrey yelled, “that’s a reset for the extreme close-ups. Take ten.” As everyone started to move away, she added, “But be back here on time! Ten means ten.”

  Dara walked directly toward her, and for a moment, Rebecca thought she would pass without acknowledging her. Instead, she stopped right in front of Rebecca.

  “I just want you to know that you’re doing a fantastic job with the script. You’ve created evocative dialogue that makes it a pleasure to play the character.”

  Rebecca beamed. “It’s easy to envision writing dialogue for a great actress who breathes life into every word and whose expressions alone speak volumes.”

  “Is it okay if I join this mutual admiration society?” Sam slid between Rebecca and Dara and put an arm around each of them. “Dara is a great actress, and believe me,” he stage whispered to Rebecca, “I’ve seen and worked with my share of those. But what she says is true—an actor is only as good as the material he or she has to work with. You’ve done wonders with the pages so far. Keep up the good work.” He patted her shoulder and walked away, leaving the two women alone together again.

  The scent of Dara’s light perfume wafted toward her, and Rebecca inhaled deeply. “Was that rehearsed? The two of you, I mean?”

  “No. In fact, Sam was the one who wanted to say something to you first.” Dara looked over Rebecca’s head and her expression changed, becoming more closed. “Well, as I said, thank you for excellent adjustments. Keep up the good work.”

  Rebecca tried to process the reason for the change in Dara’s demeanor. When George walked right past them, she understood. Oh. Remember where you are, Rebecca, and remember who she is here on the set.

  Dara nodded to her one last time, and took off in the direction of her trailer.

  “Let’s just get one last set of extreme close-ups and we can call it a day,” George said. “Dara, we’re going to start with you. Take it from the line, ‘Life is what happens when you’re looking the other way.’ Got it?”

  Dara closed her eyes and breathed, summoning up the emotion that would be necessary to play this scene. With the camera positioned literally right in front of her face, every blink, every facial tick, every shift of the eyes, every emotion would be plainly visible. She needed to be fully, completely immersed in Celeste.

  Which means you have to stop stealing glances at Rebecca and thinking ahead to tonight. Stay present. Stay focused. Isn’t that the message that Celeste is trying to get across to Harold? You should take her advice.

  Watching the ease with which Rebecca interacted with her students and the obvious respect and esteem in which they held her warmed Dara’s heart. Seeing her interact with George on set all day and problem-solve lines on the fly was downright sexy.

  “Dara,” George said. “Whenever you’re ready.”

  Dara schooled her expression. In this moment, she was imparting to Harold the most important lesson she’d learned while traveling around the world. The sooner you get your head in the game, the sooner you can spend time alone with Rebecca. That was more than enough incentive to get the scene right in as few takes as possible.

  Rebecca gathered her things and checked around to make sure she had everything she needed for the night.

  Knock, knock.

  Rebecca flew to the door and opened it to see Dara on the other side, still in full makeup.

  “Hi.”

  “Hi, yourself.”

  “Um, I didn’t have a chance to give you my phone number this morning, so…” She handed Rebecca a slip of paper. On it was her phone number and her address.

  “Thank you.”

  Dara looked around nervously. “I’m going to be about half an hour to forty-five minutes while I get the makeup off, shower, and change. You can wait for me and we can ride together, or—”

  “I’ll wait. Unless you don’t want me to. If you don’t want to be seen driving together I can catch a cab.”

  “No. I don’t want you to have to take a taxi. That’s ridiculous. Wait here and I’ll come get you when I’m ready. If that’s okay with you.”

  I hope we’re not going to be this careful with each other all night. “That’s fine. I’ll work on the next scenes until you’re done. That way, I’ll be free and clear for the night as soon as you sign off on the pages. Unless you want to work on them together.”

  “No. No. You did a great job today. I’ll look forward to seeing what you do with tomorrow’s pages.”

  “Then I’ll see you in a little while.”

  “Count on it.”

  She shooed Dara away from the door. “Hurry up, will you?”

  Dara’s laughter echoed in her ears as she shut the door. Rebecca pulled her laptop back out of her briefcase and got to work. Based on the adjustments she and George made during today’s shooting, she scrolled through the next few scenes and tweaked various lines and setups that she created last night. Then she did the same for the other two scenes she had worked on, as well.

  Just as she finished, Dara knocked on the door again. “I hope you’re decent in there, because I’m coming in.”

  The door flew open as Rebecca reached it and the two women were standing inches apart. “Good thing I was. Decent, I mean. That wasn’t much notice.”

  “Good thing.” Dara’s eyes sparkled with mischief. After several seconds she said. “Okay, then. What do you say we blow this pop stand?”

  “I’m not the one who’s been holding us up.”
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  “Oh, sure. Blame it on me.”

  “Who else would I blame it on?” Rebecca packed up the laptop and the briefcase, turned out the light, and locked the door behind them. “You look and smell very nice, by the way.” And she did. Dara was wearing a low-cut tank top that showed off ample cleavage and her toned arms, a pair of stylish stonewashed jeans, and worn cowboy boots.

  “Thank you. You don’t clean up so bad, yourself.”

  “I’m wearing the same thing I was wearing at four o’clock this morning.”

  “And your point is?”

  “Never mind, I’m sure I didn’t have one.”

  “Since you’re not from around these parts,” Dara affected a southern drawl, “I thought maybe I’d take you for a drive and show you the sights. Then we could grab some dinner and dessert.”

  “That sounds amazing.” Rebecca bit her lip. “What about the pages for tomorrow?”

  “That’s easy. You’re going to read them to me on the way so that by the time we get to dinner, where there will be WiFi, by the way, you can just e-mail them to Audrey and George.”

  Rebecca hesitated.

  “You don’t like that plan?”

  “No. It’s… You want me to read every part to you? Me?”

  “Absolutely. Not only that, but I want you to read it in character.”

  “You’ve lost your mind, you know that?”

  “You wouldn’t be the first person to tell me that.”

  “And probably not the last, either. Okay, if you’re sure that’s what you want.”

  “I’m sure.” Dara unlocked the car. “And they better be good. Did I mention that?”

  “No. You conveniently left that part out. No pressure here.”

  As they pulled onto Sunset Boulevard, Rebecca opened the laptop and began reading the pages. She continued reading through Beverly Hills, Holmby Hills, Bel Air, and Brentwood, occasionally looking up when Dara pointed out some significant landmark. Finally, she finished reading when Dara took a short turn and stopped the car at a scenic overlook at the Bel Air Bay Club just off Sunset.