Hell's Actor-Chapter 247: Sound of Applause
Averie remembered it very clearly.
It was the last day of filming, and for whatever reason, the entire cast of Lady Ethereal was sitting together.
The devilish actor wasn’t as close to them as he had been with the cast of BSPH, mostly because The Lady demanded most of his attention. Other than Josephine and Olivier, none of the others were in his age group either.
"What do you think about the ending?"
The question had escaped Margaux Delcour’s lips in the voice of Lucienne de Roschillian.
Benoit Durand eyed an éclair resting on the pantry table. It was just sitting there, all chocolatey, inviting him. But the actor knew better. He knew he shouldn’t partake.
Like a big cat stalking its prey, his gaze remained on that piece of sweet reprieve as he answered, "I like it."
"Do you?" She twisted her lips. "I don’t know. I think it’s—well..."
She sighed, unable to find the words.
"Say it," Benoit urged. "This is the last day anyway. Who’s going to hold a grudge?"
"Well..." She pretended to think about it. "It’s a bit too vague, wouldn’t you say? People like their endings simple and comprehensive."
"Who cares about what people think?" Averie interjected, staring into nothingness.
No one wanted to admit it, but every actor cared about what people thought of them. They knew that popularity was how they earned their daily bread.
"I like films that allow us to interpret," Benoit added. "If it doesn’t leave a few questions for you to dwell on, is it even an art film?"
He chuckled to himself. What part he found funny, no one cared to question.
"So, how do you interpret it?" Margaux asked, sipping on her coffee. "The scene, I mean."
Josephine was the first to answer. "The Photographer jumped to his death after taking her picture. Well, at least, he believes he took her picture. But I don’t think it’s even possible to take her picture."
"What?" The older actress frowned. "Why would you think that?"
"She is like a ghost or a spirit or something, right? Can you capture on film something that has no body?"
"How would our cameras capture her then?"
"It’s a film." Josephine’s voice rose. "Our cameras are omniscient—the context doesn’t matter."
"Not in an art film. The filmmakers always like to be clever in these cases. The director wouldn’t have allowed such a thing."
Margaux raised a finger. "I think he failed once again. That’s why he safely jumped out of the building and escaped to find her. Isn’t that why what floor they were on was kept vague?"
She pointed at the script.
"The shot of him climbing a set of stairs has already been filmed. But who knows how many floors he actually climbed. It’s not like it’s a continuous shot."
"Interesting," Benoit muttered, the éclair inches away from his face. "I had the impression that Baptiste was reminiscing about his past at least for that last scene."
"You mean... he was The Photographer? That’s far-fetched."
"Not necessarily. My thoughts are still jumbled, but the possibility is there. No one said the events were presented linearly. It is very much possible that some part of it—if not everything—is the imagination of Baptiste."
Olivier scoffed. "What’s stopping you from claiming it was all a dream?"
His voice was laced with heavy sarcasm.
Their quarrel went on for almost an entire hour. Discussions and theories sprouted. Having read the script, they found certain mentions odd. Unlike the audience, who could only watch the film, these lot were more likely to spot oddities and red herrings.
"What about you?" someone asked Averie.
But he didn’t answer.
To him, what happened at the end didn’t matter. But how it happened did. The performance was of utmost importance, considering he was the only person playing all three roles.
A thunderous sound roared through the air. And the next moment, the devilish actor found himself back in the theater.
Every person in the audience was rising from their seat.
It was a standing ovation, as was customary.
But Averie stayed seated even as the applause drowned out his inner voice.
It was comfortable, his cross-legged posture and the warmth of his attire.
Over his jutting knee, he could spot the fervent glances from the audience seats below.
They were applauding the film.
But many of them were looking at him.
In the last scene, he had played all three of the roles. It was iconic in a way. In a decade’s time, people would gush about it, he knew.
’They don’t make films like that nowadays,’ they’d say.
But today wasn’t about nostalgia. It was about awe and admiration. It was about the film, Director Jean-Louis Groux, The Lady, The Photographer, and the rest of the cast.
Despite that, Averie was quick to spot shock and apprehension among some of the actors.
’Aren’t they obvious?’
His half-closed, lethargic eyes permeated disinterest.
’In any industry, raising standards is an act to the detriment of the industry.’
It raised effort and lowered profits.
Of course, the savants of finance had found ways around it.
But there were always fields that challenged and accepted this aspect of life. Art was one of them. It was a field built upon the idea of refinement and novelty.
’In some ways, at least.’
Even here, there was a ’norm.’
And those who acted against it weren’t seen favourably.
’But what about now?’
Averie’s gaze bore down upon the squirming figures in the audience.
’This is beyond human, right? That’s what you’re thinking, yeah?’
To create vivid illusions through acting was unheard of. It went beyond the understanding of humans and required the perspective of someone who’d glimpsed the otherworldly colors of the human psyche.
And those were just his contributions to the film. 𝘧𝓇𝑒𝑒𝑤ℯ𝑏𝓃𝘰𝑣ℯ𝘭.𝘤ℴ𝘮
The mise-en-scène was a marvel. The shots were clever. The use of lights to facilitate shot transitions was done tastefully.
’It must be daunting to find a movie that does everything right on top of introducing a terrifying portrayal.’
He sighed.
’Standards elevated to this degree by a single actor?’
He closed his eyes.
’Must be hard.’
He contemplated for a long while, but the sound of applause didn’t fade.
’Must be hard not being me.’
