You must be (I hope you are)
Things can’t be any different there than they are here, not fundamentally anyways. The sets are different, the characters swapped out, the lines might even be improvised. But at the end of the day, the plot is still the same, we’re still in the same never-ending act of the same never-ending script.
The writer believes things will never change. He thinks you’ll never make your exit. 26 weeks, 12 months, half a decade…you and I will still be standing in the same places we are now; waiting. For what? None of us are sure.
The producer wants you gone, he’s wanted you gone since the moment your character entered the story. He’s always felt you were a threat to me, to my direction, or lack thereof. Whatever the fuck that means.
Speculation gets the better of me, I can’t imagine the feeling is any different on your side. Wondering, waiting, wallowing…it has to be symmetrical doesn’t it? Though, symmetry was never our strongpoint. We never had any of it when it mattered, not in our on-camera scenes. One of us was almost always on the wrong mark, or had the wrong line, or the wrong expression. Almost.
But there were those times when we just clicked. Our timing and pace were perfect, our words intertwined, the lighting revealing only what mattered, hiding all the flaws that never really mattered to us or the audience. Those were the times that the producer and the writer got along, when their vision of us merged into one. Sure they were sparse, and fleeting…but they were unlike anything ever seen, pure euphoria. And so we kept filming.
You must be feeling this…(I hope you are)
