Billy was working on an occasionally peculiar task while imitating a gorilla with Andy Serkis, but he couldn't hold back his laughter and ended up collapsing onto the floor. Serkis laughed too, but he was so devilishly good at it that he laughed like a gorilla, even crouching beside him in a proper gorilla stance—and that led to a new understanding: you can follow your impulses as long as you stay in character and don't get hung up on mistakes when a great performance takes over unexpectedly.
–It's good you understand how the pros do it,– commented Andy Serkis. Thirty minutes of doing something over and over, take after take—they're always playing women, drunk hockey players, Indians, lawyers, gay men, elders, witches. Andy was teaching him the art of doing things without getting caught up in commentary, and showing him how to keep his eyes always sharp and serious, free of the usual signs of an amateur. For Billy and many others, there's always one emotion that gets in the way—anger, sadness, depression, love, happiness, disgust… for Billy, it was fear. Simulating terror was hard for him. He could do it better, but it was still difficult when action or movement sequences were involved.
–If you can't pull it off, it's always better to stay serious. Raise your eyebrows just a little. Try to breathe when it feels right, and only focus your eyes where they tell you to. You've got the looks to melt women like daisies with just one serious shot,– said Andy.
Both were sweaty and had been pushing forward in their performance styles for quite some time.
–I'm leaving the day after tomorrow. The action scenes are done, and now I have to wait for your stars to take the spotlight. While I wait for them to buy the ship—how hard can it be to buy a boat in a country full of boats?– said Billy.
–You did a great job in the green screen tunnel. It's tough, especially for you, to deliver the kind of visual impact these films demand. Green screen is something new for a debut,– Andy commented, having helped him with every detail, l—big and small, for his green screen scenes.
–That means a lot coming from a top player like you, someone who seems born for green screen,– said Billy.
Andy was a phenomenal actor, always able to blend his skills seamlessly with whatever the scene demanded, especially when it came to screen work, which would soon land him even more roles. For now, his career was quietly soaring. Not everyone recognized him, but when they did, they knew he was the real deal. He played Smeagol in The Lord of the Rings, Caesar in Planet of the Apes (2011), and Kong in King Kong (2005). But he had been in countless films—supporting roles, co-leads, villains, even extras. Just another soul devoted to the world of cinema.
–When they ask me how I got so good at the piano, I'll say it was thanks to you,– Andy said. He was hoping for a role as a musician in a film that might not be released anytime soon. It's fair to say the piano isn't the easiest instrument to pick up—it's often underestimated, and when something is underestimated, the hard hit of reality comes like a fragrant gust of opportunity.
–You've got a lot to improve. Piano is about scales, and scales are the foundation of the compositions you'll someday use in your songs,– recited Billy, recalling the words of Spencer, who had done a remarkable job of mentoring him long ago.
–Time for our last run,– said Andy Serkis, leading them into a sprint while being chased by computer-generated dinosaurs. Everyone had their approach to the work. Unlike others, Andy Brodie preferred a different type of task, but even so, he still managed to deliver performances that delighted film directors who cast him as the leading man.
They would play music for three to five hours straight, and from time to time, some good souls joined them—aging celebrities who would ask Billy to play a little jazz or blues. He was great with a guitar, powerful in his delivery, offering moments that let people immerse themselves in acting and the shared joy of those spaces.
–It's amazing when people learn to celebrate what they fear,– said Billy, exhaling in his way as he tried to adjust to the uncoordinated, stumbling, naïve style—his fingers appearing solid, but their stiffness betraying his amateur touch. Yet they were happy in that dance. After a while, others joined in with clapping hands, some brought cymbals, and eventually they all went to bed, ready for the next day.
They wrapped up around nine, but the days always started early. Some took that time to move on to other projects, especially shows that were just one step away from production.
***
It was a long hallway, painted in bright, animated colors, reflecting the essence of meaningful work. They were in the rhythm of their craft when, suddenly—
–Action.–
Without sound or even silence, they were ordered into a 600-meter run that looped in circles, performed with all the sharpness the modern setting allowed. Green screens were becoming, and would be, the new standard of the era. Old methods were on the brink of extinction.
Billy sprinted fast, leaping and at times following the simulations they were instructed to use. When he wasn't jumping in, he'd duck his head as if dodging something. He heard Jack Black shout, and soon people began improvising their noise and chaos while completing the two laps. Some panted and slowed their pace.
During the ninety seconds, Billy did what was required. His daily workout surpassed that of most fast-paced actors. But sometimes he struggled to keep pace, thinking hard about how to seem tough while embodying the image they wanted, fighting off the urge to laugh. How naïve he was. Still, he followed every instruction. His serious face, raw manner, and maybe a lifted brow—that was all he could lean on. And when he failed, at least his leap through the air would be worth mentioning. There was something about fame pulling Billy toward a version of himself he didn't want to become.
He raised his eyebrows, trying not to do too much. Slowly, quietly, he tried to forget the mistake. To fail gracefully. His eyes, full of curiosity, looked around for a sign of approval. But then they shouted "Cut!"—and when "Cut!" echoed through them all, they stopped, breathing heavily.
–We'll repeat the sequence twice more,– said Peter, standing among the group as they prepared to restart the entire process.
Billy looked around at everyone and tried to weigh his options.
...