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I'm on TV! Chapter 2
🕑 Added 2024-01-19 05:20:44 +0000 UTCChapter 2: Will you Marriot me?
“Oh, this is so terribly exciting! I can’t believe we’re in LA. Have your ears popped yet, dear? Mine seem to be rather stubbornly fuzzy.” Mrs Stephens - who had generously chaperoned me across the pond asked me. I dug into my pocket and found a Werther’s original butterscotch sweet and handed it to her.
“Suck on this for a bit. It’ll equalize your sinuses.” I did my best to peer beyond the bustling crowd at the arrival hall at LAX to look for our driver.
Full disclosure; I was just as surprised as her to be in LA. My video audition tape was a calculated move made given my foreknowledge - with my advanced internet access filling in the blanks on details. I’d known that the Harry Potter movie production was facing major casting issues - especially for the title character, so I’d taken my shot. Thankfully, this was still an era where talent was plucked off the street and did not demand fifteen years of experience for entry-level positions.
Somehow, I’d gotten lucky enough to get my foot in the door. It was the equivalent of getting an offer from Harvard without an established legacy. Lotteries were won more frequently.
“There’s the driver.” Mrs Stephens pointed out a uniformed chauffeur holding a sign with my name on it.
“I’m Bas Rhys.” I pushed the trolley holding our bags over to him, my head barely poking above the handlebars.
The driver smiled politely and took over the trolley from me and beckoned us to follow him. “Sir, Ma’am, on behalf of the Marriott hotels, welcome to Los Angeles.”
The drive over was quick, probably far too quick for Mrs Stephens who’d had her face glued to the car window, taking in the sights. Admittedly, it was a far cry from the austere and often spartan accommodations we’d just come from. And she’d remained in that shell-shocked state until we were escorted all the way up to our own personal suite.
As the bellhop brought our bags in, she finally found her voice again, “If this is how they treat people coming on for an audition… I’m truly struggling to wonder how’d they’d treat you if you actually get hired.”
“Probably with far less fanfare, I’d wager.” I responded, “Hollywood, by all accounts, seems like a place more interested in first impressions than lasting ones.”
“You’re not that far off the mark!” I turned to the foreign voice coming suddenly from the door. Mrs Stephens and I found a stranger casually strolling past the bell boy like he owned the place. “It’s truly a pleasure to meet you in person. I’m David Heyman, the producer of the movie.”
“Oh, my days! You gave me a start!” Mrs Stephens couldn’t help herself.
I ignored her exclamation and strode forward to shake his hand. “Thanks for setting us up here. I’m Bas and this is Mrs Stephens - she looks after me.”
“Pleasure. Shall we sit down and get started?”
Introductions done, we sat down and got to the meat of the conversation. “I’ll not beat around the bush too long. Our movie schedule doesn’t afford us that luxury, I’m afraid.”
Mrs Stephens, sitting beside me, tensed up and began wringing her hands. I patted her to calm her down and addressed Heyman. “Alright, what do I need to do?”
“You just need to be you, or rather the version of you most aligned with the character Harry Potter. You’ve gotten to the starting line. Now it’s time to jump the hurdles.”
“That’s it?” I blurted out.
“Not quite. We have a very strict audition process. An eight-step process, to be precise. Over the coming days, you’re going to be driven to the studio where you’ll meet a different group each time who’ll ask you to do different things. This is all, of course, dependent on if you pass each preceding stage.” Heyman provided a succinct but informative response.
“And what if he doesn’t? Pass the round, I mean,” Ms Stephens piped up nervously.
“That’s a ticket home, I’m sorry to say.”
“Fair enough.” I chimed in before Mrs Stephens could express any other worries. “What specifically should I be preparing for?”
“Before I detail that, I’d like to give you fair warning. We really really are on a tight schedule at the moment, so however you present yourself in the audition rounds, you will not have much time to do so - at least in the initial parts. I’m not immune to the rush either, mind you! I’m flying in a couple of days too, to convince the parents of one of your competitors to go ahead with his audition. The hiring team considers him the strongest candidate as of now, so use this opportunity to put yourself ahead.”
That was likely Dan Radcliffe, he was mentioning. They reported it in the future that his parents were hesitant to involve him in this line of work, and only the producer of the film chasing them pushed everything forward. I had to make my impression, and I had to make it now!
“Then I better get to work.”
And so the grueling audition process began.
The first day, I was driven to a building, presumably the Warner Media studios offices. They escorted me to a waiting room that had a couple bottles of water and a few snacks on a table and told to wait.
After what felt like an age, they took me to a different room. This time, one with a lot of dark-coloured curtains, and was grocered in front of a table full of people. I failed to see how many and who, given that there were about ten extremely bright lights shining directly on to my face, making it very difficult to see anything but encroaching blindness.
“State your name, age, and place of residence, please.” A disembodied voice called out. So I did.
“Please spread your arms apart, and slowly turn in a full circle.” I carried out the instruction, feeling a little like a piece of pottery on display. Someone from behind brought in a height chart from behind the lights and set it standing beside me. “Now, please stand in front of the chart at your full height.” After a minute, I lifted my hand and put on top of my head, pulled away and checked my own height - 4ft 9. Not too shabby.
The chart was taken away, and they brought a single chair and camera in its place. “Please take a seat on the chair and focus your gaze on the camera lens. When I call out an emotion, I’d like for you to express that on your face. So, for instance, should I call out ‘happy’, we’d like-”
“Like for me to smile. I understand.” I looked right at the lens and smiled.
“Yes, very good.” It continued on like that for a while. Angry: glare, sad: frown, amused, hopeful, determined, worried, and on and on and on…
I began massaging my face once the camera was being taken away. My face felt like an overwrought sponge. “Thank you Mr Rhys, that’ll be all for today. We’ll guide you back to your hotel for the day. We look forward to seeing you in the next round tomorrow. Congratulations.”
Well, that was that. Guess they just wanted to get a good look at the goods.
Knowing that at some point I’d be having a one-on-one with the big man himself, I went through future interviews on my future net, showing his hiring process for Harry with Dan Radcliffe. I even saw the scenes with Haley Joel Osment from Sixth Sense, who Columbus mentioned had been his first choice for the role. It was super clear he wanted this sort of haunted severity brought to the character. So I practiced through the night while Mrs Stephens stayed up with me out of sheer bull-headedness.
Day two, as predicted, brought the director, with his cameraman as well as a young woman who was either his PA or script supervisor, to my hotel room. “Good morning Bas! I’m Chris Columbus the director. I hope we didn’t scare you off yesterday? Screen tests can be pretty invasive - even for child actors.”
“It’s only natural that they should put me in difficult situations to perform - I am trying to become Harry Potter, after all. Can’t exactly be him without being in a near constant state of discomfort.”
The director reeled back slightly in surprise and made a face at his PA. “You’re even cheekier than I recall from your video submission.”
He urged the cameraman to set-up quickly and rubbed his hands in anticipation. “Let’s get this show on the road! I’m going to give a few scenes to read Bas. We’ll choose two of them together, and I’ll read them with you for the camera.”
They handed me three stacks of paper, each depicting a particular scene from the first three books. There wasn’t anything past ‘Prisoner of Azkaban’, as the fourth book had yet to be written. The first scene was the potions class from the first book where Snape played twenty questions with Harry. The second choice was the dueling lesson with Lockhart from ‘Chamber of Secrets’, and last, the dementor aftermath scene from PoA.
Chris held up the second scene. “I want to go through this scene first. I enjoyed the bit of sass you displayed during the Dudley scene from your video and I’d like to see it live for myself. I’ll be Lockhart, my PA will play the part of Snape and read the stage directions - and you, obviously, shall play Harry. Take a minute to memorize the lines.”
I skimmed through quickly and saw that it was only a few short lines. A single, lonely minor scene was all I got to make my career - no pressure.
[“Now, Harry,” said Lockhart. “When Draco points his wand at you, you do this.”
He raised his own wand, attempted a complicated sort of wiggling action, and dropped it. Snape smirked as Lockhart quickly picked it up, saying, “Whoops--my wand is a little overexcited--“
Snape moved closer to Malfoy, bent down, and whispered something in his ear. Malfoy smirked, too. Harry looked up nervously at Lockhart and said, “Professor, could you show me that blocking thing again?”
“Scared?” muttered Malfoy, so that Lockhart couldn’t hear him.
“You wish,” said Harry out of the corner of his mouth.
Lockhart cuffed Harry merrily on the shoulder. “Just do what I did, Harry!”
“What, drop my wand?”]
I followed the cues and acted as the screen described. I twisted my face into the subtle expressions that came with the emotional beats of the scene. The delivery of the last line was key - I stared right into Chris’ eyes, I affected as much disbelief in my face and voice as fitting for the scene and said the line just under my breath, but loud enough for Chris to pick it up. Nailed it. Probably. Hopefully. Well, given Chris’ nodding, at least he seemed satisfied.
“That was great! Nice job, kid. You’ve got this edge to Harry that I read in the books that the script doesn’t really have right now.” He commented on my performance. I wasn’t entirely sure if my characterisation deviating from the current script was a good or bad thing. “Now, I want you to pick the next one.”
This was a test. He was baiting me with the ‘edge’ comment and his scene choice. He knows I can do that already and so doing the Snape scene doesn’t really show anything too new. But, the dementor scene was something unfamiliar and different. An avenue to display my range.
It was a more somber scene, Harry describing what the dementors did to him, about listening to Lily’s screams. I started slow and soft-spoken, but I steadily allowed myself to build to something more matter of fact.
The words flowed like water, my eyes burnt into theirs. My choice was correct and my prep paid off. I was called in for the third stage.
