Sunlight filtered through the curtains and chased the darkness from the Room. Matthew opened his eyes, his head pounding; the aftermath of a hangover felt awful. He shook his head hard, pushed himself upright, and headed for the bathroom to shower.
Last night he'd partied with several lead actors from the Crew. Since the theme was to send him off, he'd inevitably been forced to drink a few too many. He'd come back half-drunk, skipped a shower, and collapsed into bed.
After washing up, Matthew was fully awake and the hangover headache had eased. He checked the time, went out for breakfast, hailed a cab, and left the hotel with his luggage, bound for Heathrow to catch a flight back to Los Angeles.
He wanted a few days of real rest.
Strictly speaking, ever since he'd auditioned for almost famous, the mummy returns, and fast & furious, he'd been on the go, never truly relaxing even between try-outs.
Now that the mummy returns had wrapped and there were no new roles to chase, he could finally stop thinking about work.
In the cab he texted Britney, "Busy?"
No reply came; she was probably tied up.
It wasn't until the taxi neared Heathrow that his Nokia chimed. He pulled it out and glanced at the screen.
"Choreographer just redid the dance for one track, need to learn it fast. Grabbed some water—back to rehearsal now."
Matthew didn't answer. He pocketed the phone, and when the cab stopped at the terminal he grabbed his bags and walked inside. He was heading for check-in when his Nokia rang again.
One look at the screen made him frown: Helen Herman was calling.
Helen never rang for personal reasons; every call meant work.
He hit answer. "Hey, Helen."
"You haven't boarded yet, right?" she asked. "band of brothers just called—you're needed for ADR."
Assuming the Crew was still in London, he said, "So I should stay in town?"
"No. band of brothers is doing post at Warner Bros. Studio…"
"When do they need me?" he asked. "Not tomorrow?"
"Report to the studio Wednesday."
"Fine." He had no objections; his contract covered this. "I'll hit L.A. tonight, I guess."
Even with the direct flight the mummy returns had booked, it was still a twelve-hour haul.
About to hang up, he heard Helen add, "One more thing: Jack tipped me that Ridley Scott just took over a war project for Sony Columbia. Schedule's insane, they'll hold closed auditions and favor actors with military-role experience—think about it."
"No need to think."
Why hesitate? This was Ridley Scott.
"Helen, get me in," he said.
For legitimate films and roles, he'd take anything right now.
He was nowhere near the level where he could pick and choose; landing another job the minute one ended was already lucky.
"That's what I figured. I'll call Jack," Helen said.
After hanging up, Matthew collected his boarding pass and sat in the departure lounge, wondering what war film Ridley could be making at this point.
He remembered Ridley had once done a version of The Prince of Egypt and a Jerusalem war epic whose theatrical cut and the torrent he'd downloaded had wildly different reputations; online chatter said it bombed. Probably neither of those.
He couldn't recall anything else and figured he'd simply never seen the movie.
Of Ridley's work, he knew Alien best, plus that Jerusalem film.
He landed in L.A. late at night, stumbled into his apartment, and crashed. The next day he texted Britney and Helen, then holed up until Wednesday morning, when he finally felt restored and headed to Angel Talent Agency.
Helen wasn't there—she'd dashed to Malibu for another client.
She didn't just represent him; she had plenty of smaller actors.
Those clients kept Angel Agency afloat and reminded Matthew he had competition; if he didn't make it, Helen could always push someone else.
He rang her; she had someone hand him a stack of paperwork and told him to collect his the mummy returns paycheck while he was at the office.
Although the mummy returns production has so far only paid the first thirty-thousand-dollar installment, with the remaining two still pending, Matthew had also pocketed a thirty-thousand-dollar kill fee from the fast & furious Crew. Even after handing ten percent to Helen Herman as Agent commission, he still held a tidy fortune.
It wasn't a fortune, yet enough to keep him from worrying about daily expenses.
With basic living costs off his mind, Matthew could pour all his energy into his acting career—more precisely, into the grand quest of becoming a Hollywood Star and living the glamorous life.
He planned to leave the money untouched for now; his walk down the red carpet for Gladiator had shown him that while actors earn well, they also spend lavishly.
After signing the paperwork in the finance office and watching the pay hit his account, Matthew stayed at Angel Talent Agency, took the documents to a first-floor conference Room, and began reading.
He also spoke at length with Helen Herman on the phone to get a clearer picture of the project.
The file had come from Ridley Scott's Bearded Man assistant Jack, passed directly to Helen Herman. It contained no closely guarded scripts, only an overview. Just as Helen had said, it was a war film—modern war.
According to Jack's notes, Ridley Scott's new film was based on a true story set in 1993 in Mogadishu, capital of strife-torn Somalia, where 160 elite operators from Delta Force and Army Rangers undertook a covert mission.
The project was tentatively titled black hawk down, its script adapted from journalist Mark Bowden's on-the-ground report "black hawk down: A Modern War Story."
It hadn't originally been Ridley Scott's venture; he stepped in at the last minute.
Director Simon West first pushed for the adaptation, urging renowned producer Jerry Bruckheimer to buy the rights and start pre-production. But after a string of shake-ups inside Sony Columbia Pictures, West abandoned the project to helm Lara Croft: Tomb Raider.
producer Jerry Bruckheimer kept the wheels turning, approached Ridley Scott, and—both men sharing a taste for the material—struck a deal on the spot.
Though Ridley wasn't taking over mid-shoot, he still faced tight deadlines and other headaches. Sony Columbia Pictures wanted black hawk down in theaters by the end of next year, leaving the Crew little wiggle Room.
So Ridley, Jerry, and Sony Columbia agreed to forgo open casting calls in favor of closed sessions, shaving precious weeks off the schedule.
The two producers even slashed the obligatory military boot camp from a month to ten days, giving preference to actors already versed in military basics or who had played soldiers recently.
Besides, this would be an ensemble piece—no single character would hog the spotlight.
Sony Columbia had budgeted the picture at eighty to one hundred million dollars—an outright A-list production for the era.
After digesting the file, Matthew felt he stood a real chance of landing a job on black hawk down. For one, he'd just wrapped band of brothers, retaining its military training from prep through shoot. For another, while working on Gladiator he'd learned Helen Herman was tight with Ridley Scott.
More than once he'd heard Helen call Ridley "Uncle," never "Director" or "Mr. Scott."
That spoke volumes.
In Matthew's present-day Hollywood calculus, a solid supporting role in a top-tier epic like black hawk down would give him the clout to vie for first supporting or even lead parts in smaller projects later.
Any actor content never to play lead actor must surely be female.
One worry nagged him: the shoot's location.
While they wouldn't film inside chaotic Somalia, the entire production would take place in Morocco, Africa, lasting four to five months. Land a major role and he'd spend the better part of half a year on the continent.
"Africa it is," he muttered. "There are planes these days."
After skimming the file, Matthew phoned Helen Herman again, left Angel Talent Agency, swung by a bookstore to grab "black hawk down: A Modern War Story," then headed home to prep for tomorrow's voice-over session.