The Sex Life of The Amoeba by Barry Healey

Author:Barry Healey [Healey, Barry]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781771830065
Publisher: Guernica Editions Inc
Published: 2014-11-25T16:00:00+00:00

That evening, I picked up Jeremy at his hotel to take him to rushes.

“What time is Madonna showing up?” he asked.

“I asked for eleven.”

“I don’t have to meet her in the bar or anything?”

“No, she’s going to your room.”

“Good.” He stared out the window at the passing buildings. “So, you think this Nathan guy is hot.”

“I do.”

“He’s no Brando.”

“Brando wasn’t Brando till he became Brando. I’ve seen Nathan in the theatre, Jeremy, in Shakespeare. He’s amazing.”

“Shakespeare does diddly-squat at the box office.”

“They haven’t seen Nathan as Romeo. I promise you he’s hot.”

It’s not often I can shut down one of these ‘hardened criminals,’ but Jeremy was silent the rest of the ride, and I didn’t bother making conversation. I was excited at the prospect of screening the first day’s rushes, the first sighting of the dream that Vlad and I had pushed so hard for.

I’d invited Carey, Martin and Nathan, but Martin had said he was busy (observing the lake?). Nathan was on stage that night at Madbrain. That left Carey, who only watches the first day’s rushes to check her performance, and who was sitting by herself at the end of a row. The rest of us — Vlad, László, Hardy (behind his sunglasses), Teddy, Jeremy, David the A.D. and I — were spread out and, when the lights went down and the first shot came on, we gazed at the screen as though we were watching Gone With the Wind. I noted Jeremy looking bored which, I suspected, was to forestall agreeing to the original five million pre-sale, while László, who tries never to reveal his thoughts, regarded the footage warily.

On screen, the intensity between Carey and Nathan was magnified — Vlad’s closeups were intimate, almost embarrassingly private. I felt as though I had stopped breathing, then realized I was holding my breath. Movie stars on screen have something the rest of us don’t have — people say it’s charisma but the truth is that the camera loves some more than others, for no discernible reason.

Teddy’s photography was full of crisp shadow — the best work he’d done — as was Vlad’s direction. Raising the bar aesthetically had put everyone on their mettle. Martin was commanding — in the footage his quirkiness came across as menace. But of course Nathan and Carey were the real surprise. I glanced over at Carey watching her image on screen as though it wasn’t her kissing Nathan.

When the shot of Martin in the Thunderbird watching Maddie and Miguel came on, it ran for three minutes. It was a simple take, and Martin’s demeanour, angry, revengeful, regretful — altering slightly every few seconds — chilled us. It was our first encounter with what was to come, three actors bringing (some of) Honor’s words vividly to life, and creating their own psychological conflicts on set. When the rushes finished, there was silence. I think László, and even Vlad, were surprised by how elegant and intense the footage was — a step up from our usual efforts.

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