For Men Like You

Life does not give most a second chance; the industry was no different.  

The well-meaning could say that there had been enough instances of personalities experiencing late-blooming careers, or even a resurrection of their lost reputation. But the director knew these were the exceptions, and painted a false impression for outsiders. The rarity had thus become a norm in the eyes of the unacquainted, which was why none of his friends belonging to less glamorous sectors of the economy could not understand his troubles. 

“Why, just make another hit, and things will be fine, no?” one of his more empathetic friends had said when the director shared his financial troubles. He made an adequate response to the comment then, which diverted the topic to other avenues, but now, there would be no escaping things as he sat in his chair and the elements of the scenes arranged themselves into their positions. 

This needed to be a hit. After a series of flops, because the themes and experimental nature of his films had not gone down well with the critics or the public, he needed a hit like he knew he could produce. The trouble was, both he and his producers would lose confidence if a third consecutive big-budget production barely managed to break even. 

At this point, he was taken out of the bubble he had created for himself (at least this most immediate one) by an assistant, who tapped him on the shoulder to inform him that the protagonists had made their way to the set, and were awaiting his instructions. He lifted his head, a tad bit disappointed because he could not observe their mannerisms while they were making their entrance. 

This was going to be a television show – an anthology series of ten episodes. It was the only reason why the director had been roped into the project – more minutes to make meant more gaps he risked leaving out in the plot, but the script had been too tantalising and his career too vulnerable to expose himself to the direct scrutiny of the media. If this show did not do well, his career would see a sharp fall, but at least it would not be in the direct gaze of the conventional audience. A success, on the other hand, would be a victory for both his career graph as well as the network which had recruited him. 

The male lead felt uncomfortable. He looked around the set, with his posture trying to establish an aura of dominance which must have come as second nature to the likes of him by now. He was a film actor too. He had better looks than acting skills, which was saying something – he could be emotionally vulnerable on the screen better than anyone else in the industry at the moment, even though nothing could be less true fr his off-stage personality. But his sudden appearance in a television series was not a result of creative curiosity. His career graph had veered off track too, albeit for all the wrong reasons. 

Next, the director looked at the actress. She stood in a posture akin to most women in her position – she had to make the presence of a diva felt, which meant she held her hands on her hips as the make-up team put their final touches. The director looked at the actress – it would not surprise him if it was on her instruction that the make-up team had waited till they got outside to apply their finishing touches. It would make for entertaining gossip in her inner circle once a day had been called on the sets. 

She shot a mean eye towards a mic man who was adjusting his equipment just above her to ensure he got the best vantage point possible without intruding upon the integrity of the shot. In his rush to get into position, he had flicked one of her false extensions while moving the mic above her hair. When the eye contact persisted for too long without any words being spoken, the boy apologised once more, and was much slower in his movements. It would take up precious time, but the director knew it would be fruitless to approach either the intimidator or the intimidated. 

But no, despite all that entailed hiring her, he had insisted on pairing these two next to each other. The actress was the most famous one who had solely worked on television so far. There were rumours of her making it to the movie industry sooner rather than later. She possessed a better mastery over her craft than anyone in the industry. That she was a beautiful woman too had made her a household name for more reasons than one. 

The trouble was, she was a fierce feminist too. But for the director, this trouble was just what he had wanted. She would be the last person to ever be found in the same room as the male lead willingly. No one could forget what had gone down with him in the past few weeks... Yet, there was a consensual silence. The director knew it was a norm in the industry to let sleeping dogs lie. Or at least lock them up in a cage and throw the key away, hoping no one would care to look for it. A single incident on set could spark tensions, after all – the tabloid reporters were more interested in the show than the director would have suspected even before it had gotten off the ground. 

The director walked up to the two actors and stood in between them. They had not talked to each other, at least not since they had come onto the set. There was a clear sense of disharmony between the two. It had been exemplified by a series of unfortunate tweets which had been dug up from the archives of the female lead from the time she was in obscurity – she had made damning statements about the man opposite to her, when a minor scandal had broken out about him. That time, both her tweets and his action’s headlines had been tempered for the lack of evidence. Yet, it did not reflect mutual admiration. It was on the personal insistence of the director that the actress had not been released from her contract. 

After five minutes, the director settled back into his seat, after explaining his philosophy behind the opening scene. It was the opening shot of the pilot as well, albeit as a flashback. It fell into both of their strongholds when it came to acting. It would thus warm up the actors as well as the rest of the crew for the more artistically and technically difficult challenges scheduled later for the day. 

“Lights,” the director said. The lighting crew made the final adjustments, and within a few moments, everything was in place. 

“Camera.” The devices began shooting. 

“Sound.” The assistant entered the shot to the clap the quintessential sync board for the first time in the production stage. 

The director did not expect much from the very first shot, as he never did – as it was with making love, the first few times could be uncomfortable, even downright painful. He did not fancy strange metaphors, but there was more than one to be drawn between art and love. 

So with the usual apprehension lurking underneath the surface of his tone, he said – “Action.” 

And immediately, a hush fell over what was already seemingly quiet. There was no sound at all, with the studio have been cordoned off by a red light in front of the door to it – no one had the approval to whisper in the vicinity of the shoot, let alone enter or exit this space the director had created for just a handful of scenes. 

The actress stepped forward from one spot to another. There was just the slightest bit of apprehension in her movements too, because she was unaccustomed with the scene. Yet, to most eyes, she would have done a good enough job. There were markers put on the floor, invisible in the final shot, which directed her where she needed to stand for proper lighting. 

“Hello,” she said, in a tone which either belonged to someone approaching a stranger, or as the story would later reveal, a man you thought you knew but actually didn’t. 

“Hey,” the male protagonist now said, wearing just the hint of a stubble the make-up department had worked hard on to make it prominent. “How are you?” This was supposed to be the first hint towards something not quite right between the two. 

“Who are you?” she asked, not answering his query. It was a question filled with pent-up anger. He was also impressed with how natural their chemistry had seemed so far, even if it hadn’t been a very positive one. 

“What happened... was not me,” he said. 

“A rape happened,” she said, her arms flung out in disbelief – dramatic, but not over the top. The perfectionist in the director expected even more, but for the first shot it was turning out to be a good one. 

When he did not respond, she asked - “Who are you to Samantha then?” That was not the name in the script. The director raised an eyebrow. The others around him did more than that. This was the name in the headlines, after all. 

The actor himself did not respond. But when the director would go examine the rushes at the end of the day, he thought he saw him flinch for just a moment on hearing that name again. 

“Oh sorry. Julia”, she said, taking the name in the script now. She was convincing enough as an actress for no one in the room to be able to know if it was a genuine slip-up or an intentional reference to what others in the room did not dare speak of. Even if it was the former, no one would know if she truly was sorry. 

“Not that it makes a difference to men like you,” she said now. It was an improvisation, one which made the room fall silent by a few more degrees now. 

“Cut!” the director said a moment later than usual. He was more interested than captivated by what had taken place in the scene. The actress walked away to a corner as soon as the shot was over, while the rape-accused actor walked away to the other one. The director did not think there was a need to go up to them with his thoughts after just this one shot. This was what he had wanted in a way, but he did not expect things would turn out the way they had so soon. 

In a minute, he got back into his seat It was time for a second take. Perhaps things would temper down now that the words were out of her system. Or perhaps not. 

The director allowed himself a smile on remembering once more the irony of calling this show ‘Second Chances’.