by Lisa Ferrari
We spend an entire month traveling the entire world, along with the rest of the cast and Aaron, Rami, and Sheila. We do fourteen hours of interviews with news people, radio people, TV people, internet people, publishing people, more people than I could’ve imagined. We do all the late-night talk shows, the morning talk shows, the midday talk shows… At first it’s intimidating, then it’s exciting and fun (once I overcome my jitters), then it’s annoying because I’m asked the same handful of questions over and over again, but then I settle in and realize this is part of the job and it’s a billion times better than carrying trays at work wearing my men’s work pants and cloying bowtie. Selling the movie is part of making the movie and guiding it into the world.
We are in Tokyo doing press on Kellan’s birthday. We celebrate at a beautiful sushi restaurant with lots of delicious, very fresh sushi. And saki bombs, which I’m pretty sure I’ve never had. They’re done by placing a pair of chopsticks across the top of a glass of beer and setting a shot glass of saki on the chopsticks and pounding on the table until the vibration causes the shot glass to fall into the beer. We then chug the beer. Judging by the silent stares from the other patrons, all of whom appear to be locals, Saki Bombs are an American thing. I do exactly two before I bow out. Kellan and I go back to our hotel room a little bit intoxicated from the beer and saki, but I do my best to make love to my husband on his birthday. The next day, we wake up happy and in love, and a bit hungover. But after a big breakfast, we finish our interviews and hop a plane for Australia.
AT LAST, AT long, long last, the premiere comes.
I’m so nervous.
They have a huge event at the Chinese Theater on Hollywood Boulevard. The morning of the premiere, Kellan and I are summoned to the office of Stavros Michaelides. Sheila meets us in the lobby and gives us the 411 on our way up to Stavros’s office. She tells us that Stavros is the studio chief and has been the driving force behind our Billion-Dollar Movie and that he’s the one to thank for Kellan and me being given the roles coveted by literally every single actor in Hollywood. He’s also the one whose career will go down in flames if our movie fails to turn a profit.
Stavros turns out to be a very nice man. A bit younger than I expected, even though I had no idea what to expect. He’s very handsome, with olive skin, a dusting of silver in his black hair, and bright blue eyes. He’s wearing jeans and shiny black shoes and a white v-neck tee shirt with a navy blazer. His clothes look expensive. He has pictures of his wife and children all around his office, and pictures of him at the controls of an airplane, and on a motorcycle, and a speedboat. He looks like a man with an adventurous spirit.
The meeting is brief because, as he puts it, he has an empire to run, but he wanted to meet us at last and give us his blessing for the project, which he’s heard good things about because he’s known Sheila for years and years and years. Plus he’s already seen the film. I ask if it’s any good. He stifles a grin and says we’ll let moviegoers answer that question. But I get the impression he wants to say more, possibly even to exult. If the movie does well, he’ll be labeled a genius. The most powerful man in Hollywood. Or The Most Powerful Man in Hollywood.
After we’ve left Stavros’s office, Sheila confides that Stavros texted her late last night around 2:00 a.m. after he watched the movie alone in his house. She shows me the text, cryptic though it is:
Just finished BDM.
Holy shit.
Wow.
Holy shit.
GREAT effin job!!!
$$$
Sheila is very proud of this text. She says she’s thinking about doing a screen capture, blowing it up to a poster, printing it out, and framing it and putting it in her house.
I guess it bodes well for the movie, which we’re going to see for the first time this evening.
IT’S NOT YOUR typical Wednesday night.
It’s a red carpet event.
Kellan surprises me with a special gown he had made for me by Tracy, who did such an awesome job on my wedding dress. Tonight’s dress is black and sparkly, with long slits up both sides to show my legs, a cut-out midriff, and spaghetti straps.
I try it on. It’s a bit revealing. I don’t mind showing my legs or my stomach, but it shows a lot of cleavage. Kellan tightens the shoulder straps and I’m satisfied.
The front of the dress has a panel which hangs between my legs, showing the front and sides of my thighs. Kellan runs his hands up and down my thighs in the limousine on the way to the Chinese Theater, which is only about a ten-minute ride from our house. He also loves the way the dress shows my abs, which he says every woman in town is going to be talking about tomorrow.
My hair has grown about a few inches. It’s still too short to be able to do much with it, so I put some gel in it and spike it up. Kellan assures me it looks every bit the science fiction action heroine persona.
Kellan and I walk the red carpet and do dozens of brief interviews. I’ve never had my photograph taken so many times in my entire life. Now I know why actors often wear sunglasses to these things. I wish I had some.
I invited my family to the opening but my mom and dad and Beth and Chris didn’t come because, according to the text from Beth, it’s happening on America’s birthday, which is almost as bad as having it open on Christmas Eve, the eve of the birth of Jesus, and opening a movie on the eve of the birth of Jesus is evil. Beth says she and Chris were going to come but my mom disapproved and threatened to disown her, so after my dad beseeched her to listen to our mother, Beth caved in.
But Denise comes. She gets all dolled up in a gorgeous red dress. She hands business cards to every person she meets. I think she wants to be a lawyer in the entertainment industry. She’s shameless, which is why she’s so successful. She also gets more than a dozen phone numbers from guys. She intends to date each one of them. (I don’t know what the status is with Mark and I don’t even ask.)
After the hoopla, Kellan and I settle into our seats to actually watch the movie. Kellan has popcorn but I’m too nervous. Sheila is on my other side, and Calista is next to her. Aaron and Rami and Garth and Heather and everyone else are seated around us.
Aaron goes up onto the dais and grabs a microphone and does a quick sixty-second intro, saying hello and thanking everyone for coming. He’s very nervous. He even says as much. He continuously wipes his sweaty hands on the front of his pants. He was never like that on-set. He finally says to just roll it and he collapses into his seat.
We spend three hours in the dark, eyes glued to the screen.
I am totally, totally, completely . . . blown away.
The movie is so good.
Kellan and I look amazing on-screen. Especially Kellan. But, surprisingly, I don’t mind seeing myself. I know a lot of actors refuse to see the movies they act in. At first, I am busy correcting my performance, remembering when we shot each scene, and I’m reminded of the ones in which I thought I did well, and the ones I thought were not so good even though Aaron liked them enough to move on.
The nude scene in our white house is very tasteful and not as racy as I feared. It’s mostly close-ups while we’re talking, but there is a brief master shot in which the entire bedroom is visible, with us totally naked on the bed. But it’s kinda shadowy and romantic and you can only see a tiny bit of our butts. It was probably a bigger deal for us filming it than it will be in the minds of audiences who see it.
After awhile, I find myself drawn into the story. It’s a bizarre sensation. I lose myself in it and become a spectator separate from the person who is on the screen, even though it’s me. I even begin to relax a bit. I eat some of Kellan’s popcorn.
And then our wedding comes.
The film indeed had a cold open, meaning it had no credits or titles of any kind. So I’m curious to see how Aaron and Sheila handled the issue of our names.
I watch our wedding.
It’s the greatest wedding video I’ve ever seen. I’ve always wanted to have a w
edding like one of the spectacular, happy and joyous affairs you see in the movies. And, now, my and Kellan’s wedding is, quite literally, a movie.
(I still haven’t told my parents.)
The limo scene comes.
Oh shit.
I throw the bouquet.
And then the sex begins.
I half expect people to laugh or snigger or snicker or show some other form of mockery. But they don’t. Everyone is busy watching, enthralled.
Kellan and I share a glance.
But the sex is really, really good.
I of course know that we’re actually doing it. But you can’t really tell from the movie. Aaron focuses mostly on our faces, our mouths, all the kissing, and my dress hides most, but not all, of the nudity.
It continues as we arrive at the hotel and go up to our suite, which is where it really gets steamy. But Kellan and I censored the most graphic elements and Aaron did a really good job putting together what we allowed him to have.
As I suspected, he does indeed include the really sexy scene of Kellan and me doing it sitting up in bed, surrounded by white sheets. You can see the side of my boob.
The sex is very convincing.
It looks real, especially our orgasms. And our love for one another.
Because it is. They are.
The next thing you know, we’re on the space ship, on our way to our honeymoon. Our ship crashes on the alien planet and I am once more drawn into the story.
Our standing-on-a-cliff-waiting-to-jump-so-we-won’t-be-eaten audition scene comes. I’ve been waiting a long time to see how it would turn out. The first time we acted it, we were standing on a table at the Crow Bar club in West Hollywood. And Aaron and Rami loved it. But seeing it on screen with all the special effects is something else entirely. The jump itself is very good. Kellan and I didn’t do it, of course; stunt performers did (they both nearly drowned, too, because it was the highest jump ever attempted in a movie production and they hit the water hard).
Kellan’s big fight scene with Garth disturbs me. As does my reaction, sobbing uncontrollably.
I love the scene in which I cut off all my hair.
My fight scene with Calista is likewise intense.
The final scene fades to black. The movie ends.
The audience friggin erupts.
Everyone leaps from their seats, clapping and whistling and cheering.
The end crawl begins, and I see my name. I’m credited as Claire Kearns. I wonder if anyone is noticing, but they seem too busy applauding.
A spotlight comes on, shining down on us. It focuses and I realize it’s pointed right at me.
Everyone is clapping and whistling.
Kellan is beside me, clapping proudly.
Sheila and Calista are both crying.
Aaron has tears in his eyes, too.
I’m terrified and overwhelmed and feel completely undeserving of this. Why is everyone looking at me? Aaron and Rami wrote it and Aaron directed it and Sheila and a bunch of other people produced it; all I did was memorize my lines and try not to screw it all up. But I want to be grateful and proper. I wave, smile, blow kisses, and bow a few times, hoping my boobs don’t pop out of my dress.
Kellan hugs me and kisses me. As do Sheila, Aaron, Rami, Calista, Heather, Garth, and everyone else within hugging and kissing range of where we’re standing.
The applause goes on for a long time. Someone shoves a microphone in my hand.
Oh God.
No one said anything about me being the focus of this evening, or about me making a speech.
Sheila herds me from my seat and up onto the dais. When I get there, there is even more applause.
I wait patiently, standing with my feet together and smiling, hoping I appear elegant. My heart is pounding and I have butterflies in my stomach. My stomach is growling even though I am not the least bit hungry.
When at last everyone has quieted and taken their seats, I summon the courage to speak. “Wow, thanks, you guys. So, did you guys enjoy the movie?”
Everyone goes crazy. They jump out of their seats again and a whole ’nother round of applause and whistling begins.
Once everyone retakes their seats, I continue. “All I can say is thank you. Thank you, thank you, thank you. I want to thank everyone who helped make the movie as great as it is because without all of you guys, I would be nothing. Each and every person in this room, and thousands of effects and transportation and digital arts people around the world invested a piece of themselves in our little movie.”
Everyone laughs.
I realize I’ve made a humorous but totally unintentional pun.
“I hope I’ve done you all proud,” I continue. “I am so happy to be here, tonight, here, with each and every one of you. There is nowhere else I’d rather be. Making this movie has been the most fun I have ever had in my entire life. And I owe all of it to you guys, and, of course, to Kellan, my best friend and the love of my life.”
Someone shouts, “YEAH!” and everyone laughs because we’re now all thinking about the sex scene.
“Pervert,” I mutter, pretending to be affronted, and everyone laughs.
“Anyway, thank you, guys. We did it. Aaron, you want to say something?”
I hand the mic to Aaron. He gives a similar, even more brief speech and invites everyone out to the lobby for a reception.
The reception turns out to be a blast. Kellan and I eat and drink and chat with everyone we haven’t seen since we wrapped. It’s wonderful catching up with everyone. Most of them are on to their next project. When they ask me what I’m doing now, I simply say I’m fielding offers. Pretty much everyone says that’s smart, that I should wait until the awards season ends before I make my next move.
The next day, the movie opens wide and the official press junket begins. We do interview after interview after interview. The people interviewing me are all very kind. I’m constantly waiting for an underhanded, shitty trick question. But I don’t receive any.
The early press on the film is glowing. There is already Oscar buzz for Best Picture and Best Actress in a Leading Role for me. Kellan insists I’m going to win. I insist there is no way that will happen. But Kellan insists that I will. Besides, I have to be nominated first. Something I find highly unlikely.
The movie itself exceeds all expectations in terms of revenue. It makes $283 million opening day, breaking all records. Nearly every showtime in every theater in every city in the country sells out. Theaters cancel other movies in order to show our movie.
People on TV and online and in social media begin talking about me. Most agree that my performance was so good it was kinda scary. They say the way I came apart when Kellan died was one of the most powerful moments ever filmed, without question. And then the way I went totally fucking pyscho after that and used my knife to cut off all my hair and killed the fuck out of everything and everyone was inspired and, again, rather scary. Aaron confesses in one of his interviews that the haircut scene was unscripted and I just did it. So everyone begins asking me about it. I’m not sure what to tell them so I explain (about a thousand times) that it just sort of happened. It wasn’t premeditated or scripted in any way, and, no, I don’t regret having done it. I reiterate that I’m simply glad Aaron had a brand new mag and was able to get it all in one take.
Critics and bloggers and people online say my performance was like the female version of Leonard in Full Metal Jacket, or the female version of DeNiro in Cape Fear, or Heath Ledger in Dark Knight. Secretly, I think that was my inspiration. (I like the part when the Joker hangs out the window of the moving police car.) But when everyone begins making that comparison, I say that no no no, I ought not be compared to Heath Ledger because he was a legend and I don’t want his fans to be insulted on his behalf. But within 24 hours I get tagged a couple dozen times on social media on pics of girls who chopped off all their hair. Many of them are wearing Dark Knight tee shirts with Heath’s
Joker likeness on the front. Their parents are going to hate me.
We travel the world doing scores of interviews. It’s exhausting yet I find myself enjoying it. Now that I’ve seen the film, I can be and am quite proud of it.
Everyone asks me what’s next. I do my best to remain vague because I truly have not decided. Jeremee is in almost daily contact, letting me know who is interested in working with me. Which directors, which writers, which producers, which actors. It seems I may very well have my choice of roles. Aaron has mentioned a sequel, which would be pretty cool. If it were to be of the same scale as the first film, at least I’d know I’d have a job for another three years. But Aaron has also mentioned us collaborating on a new, different project. He hasn’t said what, but I get the impression he has something in mind. Many people have offered their advice independently, saying to choose wisely because this film has opened the door for me but my next film will either make or break my career; it will confirm that I belong here or it will show that I am a no-talent fluke who got unbelievably lucky the first time around. For that reason, I am waiting to make any decisions about my next career move.
I’m also waiting for the industry to weigh in.
And it does.
Months later, the Oscar nominations come out.
Our movie is nominated in every single category.
Including Best Actress in a Leading Role for me.
Kellan is nominated for Best Actor, Calista and Garth are both nominated for Best Supporting, Aaron gets the nod for Best Director, Rami gets Best Original Screenplay, and on and on it goes in every single category, including Best Picture for Sheila and her staff. There’s a flurry of texts as we all congratulate one another and wish one another good luck. Calista asks if we’ll win Best Picture simply because it’s the most expensive movie ever made and we’ve done something no one has ever done before. The consensus response is that we hope any awards are given because they’re truly earned.
I get a text from Beth saying Holy shit! Did you guys get MARRIED???