May 1.
When roles are made for a person, the roles themselves seem to call out, and that was exactly what was happening with The Mummy. Unlike what Billy had expected, he decided to improve his character, to give it a cold resolve and a raw shape in how his character should operate, pushing it to the limit. And this was now. He had finished shooting his scenes for the Star Wars series and rushed to Morocco to an old friend. The thing is, Morocco is less advanced than Cairo, and it makes it far easier to shoot period productions, but this time it would be just a single take.
Billy is addicted to the sand. His fans might think that when they see him on camera, but the truth is, he was hired immediately. Universal paid his salary upfront, with no rights to backend percentages: fifteen million dollars in one clean cut. It was an absolute barbarity, and it left Billy speechless, now understanding the true price of fame. And it was almost terrifying. Even so, perhaps he would become one of the highest-grossing actors in history—perhaps not. That didn't matter.
His pocket was burning with those fifteen million, which had a fixed destination in stock investments—Toyota, which he bought on his own in the market and profited from, accumulating value through them.
—I'm sorry, a new project came up, and now I'm just hoping to finish before August, when production on The Headless Horseman begins. —Billy replied. There was a trace of anxiety in his tone, a way of showing how alive these films were for him, how he knew everything would turn out. Now he would also mix more with the public. He wanted to make some adjustments—not just be a brute. He wanted to be refined, cruel, loving, and vain. He wanted to introduce many small modifications that would give warmth to the audience.
He retouched the script with small details and breathed life into every word his character spoke. They were minor changes, yet everything shifted with a single word seen through the life in his eyes—resentment, or perhaps love that seemed to run through every thread of the plot. Sometimes it was dirty, sometimes questioning. He knew every line perfectly and plotted each word with care, in perfect synchrony, and without allowing himself to be surprised, he realized that all that remained was to do the minimum.
—Welcome. —commented a small man with subtle features but a comforting presence. He was the right-hand man of a producer, perhaps Sean Daniel or James Jacks, nothing like what Billy had expected. His name was Aaron.
—Thank you, sir. —Billy replied.
—I'm Aaron Shuztls. I was expecting you later, but I'll say nothing more than thank you. I heard you want to speak with the director and the writers about a few small modifications to your character. —Aaron commented, now looking Billy up and down. He was very young, no older than his own younger brother, who was about twenty-five at most. But when he checked his file, Billy was twenty-two—an age he barely remembered clearly, clouded by the alcohol he used to drink every weekend at parties.
—Only if they approve, of course, and I'm willing to do whatever it takes to make this a first-rate film. —Billy commented. For some time now, more or less, his ideas had been clear and fleeting about what he should and shouldn't do in the productions within his reach as an actor—a fortune, since Universal decided to expand the box office and add extra money to the budget just to pay his salary.
—So they'll list to make those giant shots of each of Egypt's landscapes. —Billy asked simply, looking at Aaron.
The first thing he did upon arriving was greet everyone, and several people were waiting for him. Among them were some of the on-screen cast. Billy tried to weigh his character, and all that remained was to stay in the role, something that became easier each day, with so many advantages he gained.
Billy Carson:
Drawing: 41.38990
Literature: 38.9150
Performance: 41.99500
Points: 145,450]
His three skills were the best a man could have by his own judgment; within them lay his strongest abilities. That was what mattered, and it was enough to ensure that any role he took, he would perform well—better than any ordinary actor with training, and worse than any legend with disciplined work—somewhere in the middle of that world where no one could truly believe in ideas.
The first thing Billy did was let his hair grow out a bit more, carry out his exercise routines, and help his body get used to training again.
—Nice to meet you. —Billy commented to the last member of the crew. He was the old one, a man who resembled Erick Avery—old, but eminent in the world of acting. He thought about raising his level to forty-three just for this film, leaving everything else at zero.
Billy Carson:
Drawing: 41.38990
Literature: 38.9150
Performance: 43.344950
Points: 0]
He felt the improvement in his abilities. He was aware that he now possessed the skills of a competent actor—one who worked rigorously—but without pushing himself to deliver the best performance of his life. For that, he would need a very strict method of his own. Without a doubt, it was a price he was willing to pay to work.
—Well, I'm not the golden boy who makes the front page for months. —Erick Avery commented.
He stood aside, observing that just a few steps away—and not far at all—was the entire production studio, nothing distant, nothing inviting to lethargy.
—Well, that's a problem solved with bodyguards and, of course, hiding from the media. —Billy replied with a crooked smile, listening attentively and refusing to be intimidated by the old guard.
—You've been studying the role. —Erick asked.
—Ten days, but I'm already starting to understand the rhythm of the role. —Billy replied. He hated that irreverent way actors treated one another, surrounded by multiple glasses of wine, all trapped in the same stereotype that held them back.
...
The first thing they did was take his measurements. They already had a tailor and his wardrobe ready for the coming weeks. After that, without resistance, they pushed him into daily readings of every single scene.
—Rachael, do you think it's good work? —Billy asked, stripping his faculties down to the essentials. She became his partner, along with John Hannah, as they carried most of the weight of the film.
— I'd like to be a little more naïve. —the girl commented, already settling into her role. In her eyes, she played a woman married to her work, protected by her brother and her parents, very intelligent, and made to understand cultures buried beneath the weight of futility. Though she wasn't sexy, the role of a beautiful, naïve woman suited her perfectly.
...