Model to Holywood

"Cut!"

In the afternoon, on the set of *The Notebook*, Director Nick stared at the monitor, frowning deeply.

This scene involved Lon Hammond confessing his love to the female lead, Allie.

On camera, Luca wore a green wool military uniform, tall and upright, with a handsome face. He certainly looked the part, but there was a problem with his performance.

"Luca, your smile is too exaggerated. Tone it down."

"Exaggerated?"

Luca was stunned. His character, Lon Hammond, was passionate, outgoing, and a smooth talker, someone skilled in social interactions.

Such a character, confessing his love to the woman he loves, should smile warmly. So, he had smiled with great enthusiasm, but in the director's eyes, it was over the top.

"Director, I understand. I'll keep that in mind."

"Okay! Take five, scene three, action!"

The clapperboard went down for the third time, and Luca began his performance again.

On the street, he leaned against a luxury car, looking at the street across from him.

Rachel and three other actresses walked out of the school arm in arm.

According to the original performance, Luca took off his military cap and stepped forward. "Hey, miss, I'm all better now. Will you go out with me?"

"Cut!"

Director Nick frowned.

In this take, Luca had toned down his smile, barely curling the corners of his mouth. It looked acceptable.

But the director was still unsatisfied, though he couldn't quite pinpoint why. He just felt Luca could do better. Some actors need to be pushed to their limits to ignite that brilliant spark.

Luca was one of those actors.

After shooting three scenes today, Nick found this young actor very intriguing. His understanding of the script, camera work, and actor blocking was impeccable. He even occasionally made surprisingly insightful suggestions, making him easy to work with.

But his acting was still too raw, lacking finesse.

"Luca, your performance is rough. Focus, and let's try again."

Director Nick said sternly.

Rough?

Luca scratched his head. The term was hard to grasp. Was the whole performance rough, or just one aspect?

Before he could figure it out, they started the third take. This time, he performed with more focus but was still cut by the director.

"Cut! Again!"

In the scorching sun, Luca, dressed in a thick military uniform, was drenched in sweat. After makeup wiped away the sweat, he continued performing.

"Cut! Your expression is stiff. Again!"

"Cut! No good, the emotion isn't right. Again!"

The scene was cut twelve times and still wasn't approved. Luca was starting to feel numb and at a loss.

"Director Cassavetes, can you tell me where I need to improve?"

He mustered the courage to approach the director.

Director Nick frowned and pointed to his chest. "Here!"

"The heart?"

"Yes, perform from the heart."

Nick explained slowly, "Your portrayal of the character isn't refined enough, so your performance feels superficial. For example, when you smile, it's just the movement of muscles, not a change in emotion.

This kind of acting won't move the audience.

Look at Rachel's performance. Her smile comes from within. It's not just her smiling, but the character smiling."

Luca suddenly understood, feeling a mix of realization and astonishment.

Nick's eye was spot-on. During his performance, he had been largely imitating the original actor.

Previously, Director Billy hadn't noticed, but Nick spotted the problem immediately. As expected from a top director.

"Director, I get it."

Imitating the original could at best make one look like the original, like a mimicry show.

But if one acted based on their understanding of the script, the character would have endless possibilities.

"Take five, scene thirteen, action!"

Although Luca now understood his shortcomings, correcting them immediately was still challenging.

After three more takes, the sun had started to set, and the director announced a halt to filming.

According to the script, this scene happened under the bright midday sun. The director wanted to use this bright environment to contrast with the previous dimly lit hospital room—a metaphor of darkness versus light, war versus peace.

Insufficient light couldn't meet the director's requirements.

"Luca, reflect on the character during the break. You must put your heart into it. The effort you put into the character will reflect in your performance. I hope you understand this."

Director Nick, with a stern expression, walked past Luca, then turned back to remind him.

"I understand, Director!"

Luca took off his hat, sighing lightly. He had failed again. Being rejected felt terrible.

"Sigh, half a day wasted."

"Luca's acting skills are lacking. He can't meet the director's standards."

"Yeah, I heard Luca used to be a model. No wonder his acting is so poor!"

There was much chatter among the crew.

"Luca, don't listen to them."

Rachel walked over and said, "Director Nick has very high standards. When I first joined the crew, I went through the same thing, with scenes being reshot ten or twenty times. A few times, I almost broke down, but I gritted my teeth and made it through. You can do it too. Keep it up!"

"Yes, yes."

Ryan jumped out from behind, putting his arm around Rachel's shoulders. "When I first joined the crew, I got scolded at least three times a day—morning, noon, and night. I even got scolded in my dreams at midnight. It was a miserable time."

"Thanks for your encouragement. I feel much better now."

Luca smiled slightly.

"Luca, how about we go to the bar to relax?" Ryan suggested.

"Forget it, I'm too tired."

Today, he had worn a woolen military uniform and baked under the scorching sun for three to four hours, sweating profusely. On top of that, performing under the director's pressure left his entire body numb. He had no mood for the bar.

Back at the hotel, Luca took a cold shower and started practicing in front of the mirror—smiling, grinning, and smiling with joy.

Watching his reflection, he gradually gained some insights.

Before, when he acted, he simply imitated the original. If the original character smiled, he smiled. If the original actor pulled at the corners of his mouth, he did the same.

This performance seemed passable but had a major flaw—he didn't look like the original actor. His temperament was different. The same expression conveyed different meanings.

His demeanor was more aloof. If he curled his lips to smile, it resembled a sneer. If the original actor remained expressionless, it looked normal. But for him, it seemed cold. The same went for other expressions.

In a teen drama like *Sweetheart Dance*, such mimicry worked fine.

But in a literary film like *The Notebook*, it appeared rough. To an expert, it was mere rubbish.

"Lon Hammond gazed passionately at the girl approaching. His face involuntarily broke into a warm smile."

Facing the mirror, Luca began to break away from imitation, exploring his own style.

Meow, meow, meow.

The damn cat next door started yowling again and wouldn't stop.

Bang, bang.

"Can you make your cat quieter?" he shouted out the window.

"Fuck, the cat is sick. Can't you show some sympathy?" the neighbor shot back.

"..."

Luca sighed, plugged his ears with earphones, and continued practicing. *Heaven will test those destined for greatness with hardships.*