Completely Immersed

"Honestly, if I'd known Martin was going to choose you, I'd have found a way to compete for the part myself." Jude sat at a small round table in evening dress, a thin mustache attached above his lip. He smiled at Adrian.

"I'm that irresistible? Enough to make you try for a part that's out of your league?" Adrian asked, only half joking.

"Hold on. Out of my league? You bastard!" Jude cut in.

"Well, you're British. Playing an American icon?" Adrian made it sound perfectly reasonable.

"Hey, that's discrimination!" Jude pretended to take a swing at him, and Adrian ducked, laughing.

They were good friends, if not as close as Adrian and his oldest buddies. They had gone well beyond the usual professional acquaintance. Only friends could tease each other that freely.

When they'd finished fooling around, Jude explained. "It's a Martin Scorsese film. I've wanted to work with him for years. Small part or not, I wasn't going to turn it down."

"So you're just jealous," Adrian said solemnly.

"Jealous? Desperately. I'd bet any actor who was right for the part would want a shot after reading about Hughes's life." This time, Jude sounded serious.

Adrian stopped teasing. "It's not such a small part, Jude. Errol Flynn was one of the biggest names of Hollywood's golden age. One of the worst reputations, too."

"I know. Just you watch. I might steal your beloved Cate." Jude laughed and gave him a mock-threatening look.

Adrian knew he meant the film, but his expression still changed before he could stop it. Flynn, predictably, had designs on Hepburn, though she had no patience for him. That was the story Scorsese wanted Jude to help tell. Soon, Adrian would be acting opposite him and Cate together. They'd all worked on The Talented Mr. Ripley. Jude and Cate hadn't shared scenes in that film, but who knew what he might notice now?

It wasn't an entirely groundless fear. Cate's reputation was at stake, and Adrian had to make sure she didn't suffer for it. The surest way would have been not to pursue the role at all. He could never have resisted that opportunity, though. All he could do now was be careful.

"What are you gentlemen talking about?" Cate approached, already in costume. Her cream evening gown and large curls gave her the look of a star from decades earlier. Only the lipstick seemed too heavy.

"You look absolutely lovely, Cate." Jude was extravagantly admiring. He took her hand and lifted it to his lips.

Adrian covered his forehead with one hand and shook his head.

"Save it for the camera, Jude. You're not playing Flynn yet," Cate said evenly. "Unless you want his reputation too."

"Not at all. Besides, I don't think I'm first in line for a bad reputation here." Jude laughed and glanced at Adrian.

"What do you think, Adrian?" Cate turned to him, smiling. She looked as though she were simply enjoying a joke with old friends. Only he noticed the occasional flicker in her expression.

"Don't worry, Jude. Your time will come." Adrian's mood improved. If Cate could behave so naturally, why was he worrying?

Sometimes an effort to hide something made it easier to see. Better to act normally. He was an actor with a good reputation and a demanding part. Getting into character would take enough attention; fretting over every exchange would only suggest there was something to hide. Besides, once he was immersed, or seemed to be, he could blame any accidental overstep on being too caught up in the role.

He really did feel an affinity with Hughes, at least in his relationships. Even with someone he cared about beside him, he couldn't seem to stop pursuing other women.

In the script, Katharine Hepburn described men as incapable of friendship with women: they either kept their distance or wanted to possess them, driven by the same instinct to hunt and consume. It was harsh, but Adrian thought there was some truth in it. His improvisation as the playboy had earned Scorsese's praise. Starting there, he was finding his way further into Hughes. Now he was also beginning to capture the compulsions in the scenes they were shooting.

Flynn's lack of consideration mattered here. Famous as he was, his womanizing and disregard for other people had made him unpopular. In this scene, he put an arm around Hughes as though they were old friends, though they'd barely met, then helped himself to a pea from his plate.

Hughes, however, had severe compulsions and a fear of contamination. When he had peas on his plate, he arranged them by size and ate them one at a time, beginning with the smallest.

Any disruption upset him, and Flynn had violated the whole routine. But they were in public, and the other man was a Hollywood star. Hughes couldn't simply lash out. Capturing that conflict at exactly the right level was what made the scene difficult.

Overplay it, and he seemed to be making a fuss over nothing. Underplay it, and the behavior looked contrived. Adrian had made those mistakes himself, costing them several takes.

"I need you to feel the disgust," Scorsese told him. "As though you hated someone for taking the thing you loved most. But you can't show it openly. You're an important man. You can't let yourself look ridiculous. Both reactions have to be there, fighting each other."

That didn't tell Adrian much he didn't already know. Anyone who had studied the role should understand the conflict. Showing it, and getting it exactly right, was something else. Everyone was different. How Hughes had actually reacted, how Adrian thought he should play it, and what Scorsese wanted to see were three different things.

So he told Scorsese, "Give me some time."

Finding where those interpretations met would take patient thought and analysis.

He didn't merely keep trying takes until he and Scorsese happened to agree. He kept thinking about the character, trying to inhabit him, searching for a way to reach the feeling itself.

Then he found it.

"Action!" The assistant's call came across the set, and the cameras rolled.

Jude's Flynn stood with casual confidence, took a pea from Adrian's plate, and delivered his line without a care. "Hey, Howard. If you're going to put romance on the screen, save a part for me."

Adrian blinked as though he hadn't quite registered what had happened. Several people watching frowned. He'd used that same opening in the first take, trying to suggest Hughes's surprise while building the anger beneath it.

Scorsese had stopped him immediately then. It hadn't conveyed the force of the compulsive reaction. Why try it again? Wasn't he worried the director would stop him again?

Once more, Adrian surprised them. As in the earlier playboy scene, Scorsese frowned but let him continue. A second later, Adrian's grip loosened. His cutlery fell against the plate with a quiet clink.

Several onlookers understood at once. An instinctive response came before conscious thought. Someone stepping out of a store into the path of a speeding truck might already be rolling out of the way before fully understanding what had happened.

That tiny lapse in control made the compulsion convincing. Surprise and disgust followed in his eyes, but his face remained still. He retrieved the cutlery, lifted it, lowered it, and lifted it again. He never brought it back to the food.

The movements were very small. Someone sitting beside him would probably miss them unless they watched closely.

His hands tightened around the knife and fork and began to tremble slightly. His throat moved. He took several deliberate breaths. His expression never changed.

"Good!" Scorsese finally called, giving him the same unmistakable approval as before.

Everyone on set relaxed, then smiled and applauded. Adrian stayed in his chair, looking dazed, as though he hadn't quite come out of the role.

"Adrian?" Cate was the first to speak, concern in her voice.

Jude noticed too. He caught Adrian's shoulder. "You all right?"

"I'm fine. I'm fine." Adrian finally looked up and managed a smile. "Just a little disoriented. A short break and I'll be all right."

Scorsese came over. "You're sure?"

"I'm all right, Martin." Adrian stood, raising both hands to reassure him, then asked eagerly, "How was the take?"

"Good. Very good. I didn't expect that degree of precision. Every movement was right." Scorsese wasn't holding back his praise. Then curiosity got the better of him. "How did you do it?"

"I went all the way in, Martin. Completely." Adrian smiled and gestured, then sighed inwardly.

Completely immersed? Of course. In a sense, he'd spent a long stretch of his own life struggling with compulsions.