As soon as I heard the name of the film, I recognized it. I had seen the original version, and it was…terrible. There's no other word for it. The plot revolved around two young teenagers stranded on an island, with little to no clothing, skinny-dipping, falling in love, making love, and eventually having a child.
The man who wrote the story must have been a pedophile to conceive such a plot. The same could be said for anyone who wanted to make a movie about it.
The acting by the two leads was equally awful. The only redeeming quality was the film's visuals. The island's scenic beauty was captured so perfectly that it made me want to live on a private island myself.
I had half a mind to turn around and walk away without even asking for the script.
But the other half, the more sensible part, left me conflicted. If I wanted to become a professional swimmer, I'd need a full-time job sooner or later. Swimming paid terribly, and the strict rules around endorsements made it even harder to earn a living. I knew things would change by the 21st century, but I had no idea when. I couldn't wait twenty years to be paid fairly.
If I'd retained my coding knowledge from my past life, I would've rejected this offer outright. I could've started a tech company and ridden the dot-com bubble to success. But I didn't have that advantage. Learning everything from scratch was a hassle, and there was no guarantee I'd succeed.
I could have made smart investments in companies like Microsoft, Apple, and Amazon, but none of them had even been listed yet, and it would take decades before I had enough money to retire early. I knew about the dot-com bubble and the other major stock-market crashes of the 21st century, but not enough about this era. I was seriously regretting asking to be reborn now of all times.
"From your reaction, I can see you've at least heard of the book," Vic said. "Or maybe seen one of the earlier film adaptations?"
"I've read the book," I confirmed. I hadn't, but it was the only plausible explanation for my reaction.
"That saves me the trouble of explaining the plot, at least," Vic joked. "The big question is, would you be comfortable doing it as it was written?"
"What exactly do you mean by that?" I asked, though I already knew what he was implying.
"I'm talking about the bold scenes," Vic said, confirming my suspicions.
"This film was made in 1949 as well," he continued. "If you're aware, the Hays Code was in effect back then, which restricted bold ideas from being shown on screen. That's why we're remaking it today, to stay true to the author's vision. And that means the actors need to be comfortable with such scenes."
And that was the big question. Doing such a scene wasn't just a one-time thing. Once shot, such scenes would remain out there forever. The advancement of the internet in a few years would also have a major impact on it because once such an image goes online, you can't ever purge it.
"I don't know if I'd be comfortable with that," I said honestly. "It's one thing to shoot an underwear advertisement, but it's another to let the whole world see you completely naked."
"It's just one film, Noah," Vic assured me. "And between you and me? I don't even think it'll do that well. The book came out around seventy years ago. People today don't read old books unless they're considered classics, which this book isn't. So why would they watch the film? You can do this one movie, then go back to modeling if that's what you want. No one will even remember it."
That was not true. I knew the film would be successful. I didn't remember how much it grossed originally, but it definitely had a strong cult following. In my past life, I'd struggled with insomnia. Whenever I couldn't sleep, I'd watch an old film, whether streaming it on Netflix or renting it outright. Watching movies became a ritual, something that helped me drift off. I'd watch at least one movie a day, sometimes as many as seven or eight, depending on the day of the week and how lazy I felt.
Seeing my conflicted face, Vic added, "Don't forget that doing a film for a big studio like Columbia will be a huge boost for your modelling career as well. If you play your cards right, you can ask double, or maybe even three times what you're getting paid per gig right now."
That sounded true. I didn't know if it was, but I could see it happen.
After thinking about it for a few moments, I said, "This wasn't what I expected when Jordan asked me to come here, so I'm a little surprised."
"Don't worry," Vic smiled reassuringly. "It's totally understandable. I've worked with many actors who've done similar scenes, and I can promise you, if you're selected, the studio will make it worth your while."
He leaned forward and lowered his voice. "Don't tell anyone I told you this, but usually, a newcomer like you, with no acting experience, would get paid between twenty-five and fifty grand for their first film. But given how demanding this role is, Columbia Pictures could pay you more." He shook his head. "No, they will pay you more, as long as you have a good negotiator. I can't give you an exact number, for it's not my call, but if you're selected, I'll personally push for at least a hundred."
The moment I heard the amount, I was gobsmacked. $100,000 was a humongous sum in 1979. It would solve all my family's financial problems overnight.
And that was the big dilemma. If it were just me, with no one to care for, I might've turned it down. I knew I could make up for the lost money eventually with my future knowledge. But this wasn't just about me. This was real life, with real consequences for letting an opportunity like this slip away.
"So, what do you think?" Vic pressed. "I just know you'll be great for this role. If you were anyone else, I'd have let you go by now, given your reluctance. But I see something in you." He leaned forward, his gaze locking onto mine. "I've cast a lot of actors in my life, and whenever I see that spark, they turn out to be superstars. It's like when I saw something in John Travolta. I cast him in Saturday Night Fever, and look where he is now."
"But you just said this film won't be successful," I pointed out.
"True," he nodded. "But it'll open doors for you. If your audition is good, even if you don't get this film, I'll remember you for other projects. And if you do end up doing this film, the sky is the limit. You just have to be good at making connections during filming and promotion, and before you know it, you will be signing your second film."
That was the thing, I wasn't sure I was good enough to land anything where they wanted more than my looks. Sure, I loved movies, but that doesn't make me a great actor. I also loved food, and I was a below-average cook at best.
"What are your plans for the future?" Vic asked, shifting to small talk.
"I'm starting at Harvard in September," I confessed. "I'm also a professional swimmer and plan to try out for the Olympics next year."
"Whoa," Vic said, clearly impressed. "That's incredible! This just proves why you'd be perfect for this role. It involves a lot of swimming, diving, and staying underwater for extended periods. You'd save the studio thousands of dollars and countless hours on underwater training. Another point in your favor for negotiating a higher pay. The location they've chosen is stunning, a private island in Fiji. I'm sure you'll love it. Think of it as a vacation of sorts."
The more I thought about it, the more I warmed up to the idea. I'd always wanted to visit the beach and test my powers there, but I'd never had the chance. I hadn't enjoyed a single vacation since becoming Noah. This could be it. I closed my eyes for a moment, psyching myself up, before nodding.
"Okay," I said, opening my eyes. "I'll audition for the film."
"That's what I like to hear!" Vic boomed. "Perfect!" He spun around in his chair, grabbed a bound script from a shelf behind him, and handed it to me. "Here you go. This is the complete script, start to finish. Read it, learn it, worship it if you have to. I've marked the scenes you'll need to prepare for the audition. If you can afford it, hire a good acting coach to help you with them."
He opened his desk drawer, rummaged through it, and pulled out a business card.
"Try her. She's great with beginners, and she's affordable too."
I pocketed the card, which had the name Michelle Hopkins printed on it.
"Do all that, and I'm damn sure you'll ace the audition."
"When is the audition?" I asked.
"Let's see," Vic said, pulling out a ledger from another drawer. He flipped through a few pages before saying, "How about next Saturday? The same place? That gives you a full week to prepare. Does that work for you?"
"Sure," I shrugged, unsure if a week was enough but agreeing anyway. "Thanks, Vic." I stood up and shook his hand.
"No problem," he smiled. "Just give your phone number to my receptionist, Paige, so we can call you if there are any changes in the timings or location."
With a grateful nod, I left his office and walked out slowly. The cute redhead was still eyeing me with that same lustful gaze, but this time, she didn't bother hiding it.
"Hey, Paige," I grinned at her.
"Hi, Noah," she giggled, sliding a piece of paper toward me. I picked it up to find her phone number written on it. Smooth.
I leaned in and whispered, "I wanted to give you my number too." Her breath hitched. "For setting up my audition." Her expression faltered slightly. "But you can call me sometime just to talk, if you want. Preferably after 4 PM. I'm not home until then."
She perked up instantly, flipping to a fresh page. "I'm all ears."
I didn't break eye contact as I dictated my home number to her.
It felt good to be desired. Sure, she was older than me, but if you count my previous life, she technically wasn't. Even then, I loved older girls, so I didn't mind the age gap.
"See you," I said, exiting the office, but not before blowing her a kiss. I'm pretty sure she almost fainted. I chuckled as I walked out of the building. I would've asked her out today if I didn't have a role to prepare for.
(Break)
Preparing for a role was much harder than I'd imagined. To start, I followed Vic's advice and read the script for The Blue Lagoon cover to cover multiple times. Then, I went to the local library and borrowed the original book to understand the character in greater detail. It gave me valuable insight into Richard Lestrange, the character I was auditioning for. Essentially, he was an immature asshole, stuck in a child's mentality after being abandoned on a remote island. But his body grew up anyway, leading to inevitable consequences.
The ending was ambiguous, but the first chapter of the sequel gave me a clearer picture of what happened. It took me just a day to memorize the lines Vic had marked, practicing in front of a mirror, but even then, I wasn't satisfied with my performance. Acting was so much more than reciting memorized lines. It required genuine emotion and someone to guide me through the nuances I was missing. For the first time, I understood why a director was so crucial to any production, whether it was a film, TV show, or play. I needed someone to run lines with and help me dig deeper into the character.
For a moment, I considered going to Lola for help, as she'd offered. But I quickly dismissed the idea. She was more interested in spending time with me than actually helping. She'd been trying since last year to get me to commit to her, but I'd turned her down every time. I'd made it clear I wasn't looking for a relationship. Eventually, she'd accepted that and offered to limit ourselves to friends with benefits. Yet, it didn't stop her from trying every few months.
That wasn't the only reason, though. I didn't want anyone finding out about the role I'd been offered. If I ended up not doing the film, which was the most likely scenario given my inexperience, no one would have to know. I'll even lie to Lola that the casting director didn't like me. Why tell anyone I'd even considered such a controversial project?
And if, by some chance, I did end up doing it, I could keep the nature of the role under wraps until much later. No one needed to know until I was off to college.
This left me in a dilemma. I needed help, but not from anyone I knew. The solution was simple: an acting coach. And as luck would have it, Vic had given me the card of one.
The only reason I hadn't contacted her right away was that I knew good acting coaches were expensive, and I didn't want to waste money on a role I might not even get.
But then I thought about it logically. If I landed this role, the return would far outweigh the investment.
Ah, what the hell. My entire life, I'd lived like a miser, saving every penny for my siblings' future. This was something I wanted for myself, and not just for the money. I wanted to prove to myself that I could do it. The fact that I'd get to have my first vacation on a private beach was just the cherry on top.
With that in mind, I dialed Michelle Hopkins, the acting coach, and booked an appointment for five days: Monday through Friday. Her rates might've been considered below average by industry standards, but they still felt steep to me. At $200 a day, I was essentially committing $1000 for the week. The only consolation was that the amount was tax-deductible.
That's how I ended up in the studio attached to my new tutor's home.
Michelle Hopkins was strikingly attractive for someone in her late 40s. A classically trained actress, she'd spent much of her youth performing onstage. Her biggest selling point was that she studied acting under Lee Strasberg and Stella Adler. I wasn't exactly a theater buff, but even I'd heard of them. Strasberg and Adler were legends in the United States, pioneers of method acting who'd trained actors for decades.
And now I get to learn under one of their students.
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Link: www(dot)fablefic(dot)com