“Yes, I can imagine it would.”
“Yeah,” Marcus said softly.
“Tell me about her. What was she like?”
“Before the drugs?”
“Yes, before all that.”
“She was an angel. Sweet and funny but quiet. Like she didn’t want to take up too much space.”
“Give me an example.”
“She’d never come all the way into a room. Like if we went to a party or a school thing, she always hung out just inside the doorway. I think that’s why she started with the drugs in the first place. She never felt comfortable anywhere. Her parents were strict and critical. From what she told me anyway.” He paused, studying his hands again. “But I don’t know what that has to do with Conrad. It’s his brother who dies.”
“Loss is loss, I’m afraid. And as painful as it is to think about your mom, it’s what will make this real for you and for the people watching.”
“I don’t know how.”
Actors who’d had easy lives rarely understood characters like Conrad. They pushed too hard, trying to manufacture anguish instead of simply telling the truth. Marcus, sadly, had plenty of his own grief to pull from. The trick was tapping into it. Good actors made it look easy, when it was actually quite difficult to let people see the truth.
“With pieces like this, actors sometimes make the mistake of playing the emotion super big when it’s more compelling to see an effort to control the emotion.”
“I don’t get what you mean.”
“The harder an actor tries to show pain, the less we believe them. We’re naturally interested in what people are trying to hide.” Jason leaned back in his chair. “Conrad spends most of the story trying not to fall apart. It makes him compelling but also sympathetic. He’s trying so hard, and we want him to win. We want him to live. To choose life.”
“I know a lot about faking it.”
“That’s right. Which is why you’re perfect for this role. Do you remember what it felt like to be that helpless and afraid and have to keep it hidden from everyone?”
Marcus gave a short laugh that wasn’t really a laugh. “Oh, yeah.”
“With that in mind, let’s try it again.”
Marcus went through the entire piece, and this time it was impossible to look anywhere but at Marcus. By the end, Jason had tears in his eyes.
When he was finished, Marcus shifted from one foot to the other. “Was it bad?”
Jason shook his head, gathering himself. “No, it was good. Very, very good. You let yourself into the piece, using real emotion, and that’s what made it so powerful.”
Marcus blinked. “Really?”
“Yeah. You’re going to nail these auditions.”
“Will you film me? Maybe tomorrow?”
“I’d be happy to,” Jason said.
Marcus sat back down slowly, still looking uncertain. “I want this so bad. But I’m afraid it won’t happen. Then what do I do? I have no plan B.”
“You can’t think about it like that. Believe in yourself. Dream big. Okay?”
“And not stand just inside the doorway?”
“That’s right. You take center stage. Where you belong.”
“Thanks for doing this with me,” Marcus said after a pause. “I never thought I’d be coached by a real actor.”
