“Nora,” Hilliard said, pulling Monty forward. “I’d like you to meet your star, Montgomery Kincaid. Monty, this is Ms. Nora Chen.”
Monty stuck out his hand. “Pleasure, Ms. Chen.”
Nora Chen ignored his hand and gave him a shrewd once-over. She was a tall and lanky Chinese-American woman, wearing creased grey slacks, a cream-colored button-down shirt, and knitted vest. Her straight black hair was cut in a severe bob and her expression was somber.
“I have to look over everything before we start. Walk with me, Kincaid,” she said brusquely. She paused to give Hilliard a small smile. “Good to see you again, Mr. Burke. Thank you for the introduction.”
Hilliard gave him an encouraging nod and Monty joined his director, matching her long and hurried stride. It took everything in him not to use his magic in an attempt to win her over. Her solemnity intimidated him.
“I’ve heard a lot about you, Mr. Kincaid.”
“Good things, I hope?” he said with a winning smile.
“Some good things, yes. You’re fairly prompt, fairly good at lines, get along with most people. I’ve also heard you’re a little wild, a little unpredictable, and in quite a bit of hot water with the studio.”
Monty cleared his throat. “I’m working on the last bit.”
“I’ve heard that, too.” She paused her speech to talk to a lighting tech. They exchanged words that were too technical for Monty to understand, or care to, and then she continued her circuit. “I’ve seen your pictures. You have talent.”
Monty preened a bit.
“But you spoil it with that magic of yours.”
“Excuse me?”
She lifted an eyebrow. “You drown out a lot of natural skill with your desire to be liked. I can imagine your magic comes in handy in specific situations, but you should save it for interviews and press tours. I don’t want to see your magic on my film unless I specifically ask for it. Is that understood?”
Monty gaped. “I’ve never had a director forbid me from using my magic before.”
“That says more about your directors than it does you, I’m afraid. I want the audience to see you, Kincaid. You could be great, you know, if you stopped depending on your charm.” Then, without waiting for him to respond, she led him onto the set and beckoned Hilliard to join them.
Monty had never been with someone who moved so quickly. In less than half an hour, Director Chen had walked them through the scene, talking about motivation and context, and then was seated in her director’s chair.
“Let’s do a rehearsal of it before we start shooting,” she said.
Monty looked at Hilliard, who gave him another encouraging smile. “You’ve got this, sugar,” he whispered, before taking his spot on the side of the stage.
Director Chen yelled, “Action!” and they swung into their roles. The scene was an exciting one to perform, and perfectly fitting for Monty’s current mood. His character, Sam O’Reilly, had been mistaken for the organizer of the town’s Christmas parade, and his friend, played by Hilliard, was trying to persuade him to act the part. Sam’s temper was high, as was Monty’s anxiety.
His magic was desperate to claw its way out and ease the way ahead, and he was fighting to keep it on a tight leash. This was no scene for his magic and, according to his director, it was no movie for his magic at all. The frustration of his miscasting had risen all over again and he allowed it to pour forth in his acting. It was almost a relief to allow the character to take over in such a way.
When Director Chen shouted “Cut! Print,” Monty’s relief swiftly ended. “What do you mean, ‘Print?’”
She slid off her chair and joined them on the set. “Exactly the kind of performance I like to see,” she said. “Raw and unfiltered. Let’s do another setup and run through it again.”
Monty looked at Hilliard in alarm. “Is she serious?” he asked in a hushed voice.
“She’s famous for this kind of thing,” Hilliard responded. “Her pictures always come in under budget and on time. I’m surprised you’d never heard about that.”
Monty sputtered.
Hilliard patted his shoulder. “Don’t get too worked up about it. She knows her stuff. One of my favorite directors, to be honest. You get used to the pace.”
As they prepared to shoot the scene again, Monty realized that his nerves hadn’t gone down from the moment he’d walked onto the soundstage. He began to wonder if that was intentional while they shot two more setups. By the time they broke for lunch, he was exhausted from restraining his magic, remembering his lines, and staying on top of his performance. Working with Director Chen was tough. He never got to be off.
But when he joined Hilliard at the commissary, he had to admit that the exhaustion felt good in a way that performing never had before.
Chapter 12
