Son of Stone (Stone Barrington 21)
Page 70
“No, but I know that Elia Kazan trained here, and as far as I’m concerned, that’s the best possible recommendation.”
“Have you read his autobiography?”
“Yes, twice,” Peter replied.
“You’ve indicated in your application that you want to study both acting and directing. Why?”
“My intention is to direct, but I’ve enjoyed the acting I’ve done in school productions,
and if I’m going to direct, I’ll need to understand how actors think and how to work with them. I’m interested in everything you teach here, but I suppose I have to concentrate on something, so I chose acting and directing.”
“You understand, don’t you, that this is a professional school, and that it’s very time-consuming, so you won’t have an opportunity to take a lot of college courses simultaneously.”
“Yes, I understand that, but by the autumn I will already have taken all of the standard liberal arts curriculum, and I’ve done most of the reading required to get a BA.”
The three exchanged a glance. “I see,” the woman said. “Who are your favorite writers?”
“Mark Twain and Jane Austen,” Peter replied without hesitating. “In the theater, Tennessee Williams, Arthur Miller, and Noel Coward.”
She smiled. “I believe that’s the first time I’ve heard an applicant mention Coward,” she said, half to herself. “What have you read that you would most like to direct?”
“I’d like very much to make a film of Pride and Prejudice,” he said. “I know it’s been done, but it seems to get redone every generation or so.”
“What would you like to direct onstage?”
“My own plays,” he replied.
“Have you written any plays?”
“My screenplay was originally intended for the stage, but my faculty adviser cautioned me against that.”
“Why?”
“Since the script is about two students murdering a teacher and getting away with it, I think he thought the school’s board would be reluctant to see it performed with parents present.”
That got a laugh from all three. The dean spoke up. “Since your film doesn’t have titles yet, I didn’t realize that you had acted in it, as well as directing, until I saw you this morning. Did you find that difficult?”
“Not as difficult as I had feared. I already had all the dialogue in memory, so I didn’t have to worry about that. It was mainly a matter of organizing the setups and preparing in advance so that I wouldn’t waste scene time.”
“You seem to have shot everything in existing light,” the dean said. “Why?”
“Because we had only two lights to work with. I used them, but it’s probably hard to tell where.” Peter cleared his throat. “May I ask a question?”
“Of course,” the woman said.
“How many people here have seen my film or read the screenplay?”
“Just the three of us,” she replied. “We watched it together.”
“My father is very concerned that if the film is widely seen that it might attract a lot of attention, and he doesn’t think I’m ready for that. I tend to agree with him, so may I ask that you not discuss the film with anyone else and that you return the screenplay and DVD?”
The dean answered. “I think that’s a very reasonable request, and we will give you our promise to do so, until you’re ready to have it more widely seen.”
“Thank you,” Peter replied.
“Do you have any other questions, Peter?” the woman asked.
“I don’t think so; I found answers to most of my questions before I got here.”