Ch-35

After a whole month of relentless dance rehearsals and dialect lessons, it was finally time for the table read.

As soon as I sat down, I saw that most of the people had already arrived. I immediately recognized Stephen Daldry from my audition, and of course, Peter Darling, my dance teacher. Then there were Greg and Jon, the producers I met while signing the contract. Jon was an okay guy, but Greg seemed a bit stiff when we last met.

Among the cast members present, I instantly recognized the most famous one, Julie Walters. In my old life, most people knew her as the actress who played Molly Weasley in Harry Potter. Here, she would be playing my dance teacher who encourages Billy to go to the Royal Ballet School.

Next, I saw a man in his 40s who plays my father, Gary Lewis. I hadn't watched any of his other works in either of my lives, but he did an amazing job in Billy Elliot.

Gary was talking to a young man around 19 or 20. I didn't recall his name at the time, but he played Billy's brother in the film. Looking around, I also recognized a few other characters: Debbie, Billy's ballet teacher's daughter who had a crush on him; Billy's grandma; Debbie's father; and Billy's boxing coach.

A few other actors were present whom I didn't recognize, but they must have had smaller roles in the film.

At that moment, the next person who entered the room made me feel anxious. I recognized him immediately—how could I not? Standing in the doorway was none other than Jamie Bell himself, the boy who played Billy in the original movie in my past life. His other notable performances include Jumper, Tintin, Snowpiercer, and Rocketman, to name just a few.

He was an amazing actor, carrying the role of Billy Elliot on his young, capable shoulders and even winning a BAFTA. His Oscar nomination was a near miss. Seeing him standing there with a woman, probably his mother, made me nervous. He took the only available seat, which was right next to mine.

Why is he here? Did the director change his mind about my casting at the very last second? I'd heard stories about this happening but never thought it would happen to me! And such blatant humiliation on top of that!

I felt a hand in mine and looked down to see Mum giving me a reassuring smile while squeezing my hand slowly but firmly.

Immediately, some of the tension left my body and I composed myself.

"Good, everyone's here," Stephen took control. "Let's begin with the introductions. Troy, why don't you start first?"

"Sure," I answered in my newly learned Durham accent, "My name is Troy Armitage, and I'll be playing Billy Elliot."

Stephen nodded toward the person next to me, who happened to be Jamie. Jamie smiled slightly. "I'm Jamie Bell, and I'll play Michael Caffrey."

Immediately, all my previous worries turned to guilt. I had robbed Jamie of his role—his big break. The discreet evil eye he gave me didn't help matters. The boy who almost got cast as the lead was relegated to playing the gay best friend instead, despite probably being better than me at dancing.

Then again, Billy was supposed to be a novice dancer in the movie, so he wasn't meant to dance like Michael Jackson. It was the acting that mattered more. At least, that's what I told myself to assuage some of the guilt gnawing at me.

I gave Jamie my best smile, hoping it didn't come across as smug, and continued listening to the introductions.

"Good," Stephen continued once everyone had introduced themselves. "Let's begin with the themes present in the movie. The first and foremost is the issue of toxic masculinity being forced on kids from a young age."

Seeing the confused look from Jamie Bell and Nicola, who played Debbie Wilkinson, Stephen simplified his words, "That is the idea that boys should do stuff like boxing while girls should do ballet. The second is internalized homophobia. Billy didn't want to be considered a 'poof' by anyone and could easily be triggered by someone accusing him of that. In the end, he beats up the kid for the same reason. Then there are themes of class divide between families like the Elliots and the Wilkinsons, poverty, and how it forces people to act desperately or even give up their dreams. The love of a father for his son. And finally, it is the story of a young man who remained true to himself till the end and overcame adversities with persistence."

Stephen finished his impassioned speech on a high note. I couldn't help but feel awe at how he broke down every major theme of the movie so succinctly in just a few minutes.

Unconsciously, I clapped for the speech itself. I felt a little weird when no one joined me for a moment, but thankfully, Julie Walters did a moment later. Soon, every member of the cast and crew was clapping for Stephen.

"Thank you, Troy," Stephen smiled at me. "Now let's continue with the script, eh?"

After getting agreement from most people, Stephen began. "The story takes place in Durham, England, in 1984. Billy picks up a vinyl record and puts it in a record player. As the music starts playing, we can see Billy jumping in the background. The camera zooms in on a place above Billy's head. He jumps up into the camera view, totally free from all worries…"

Stephen's narration of the script was much different from Night's. Night more or less just read the script while giving details of some scenes that required precision, like the open cabinet scene. Stephen, on the other hand, delved into the script. Each scene, each emotion—everything was discussed in depth.

"Draven, you go next," Stephen commanded as we came to the next dialogue of the script.

"Fuck!" Jamie Draven, who played Billy's brother, hissed in annoyance. "You been playing my records, you little twat?"

"I never played naught!" I answered incredulously.

"Nob head!" He picked up the script and made a motion to chuck it in my direction.

"If Dad knew you smoked that stuff, he'd go mental," I accused him like any good sibling would.

"What? Fuck off, will you?" Draven groused, then whispered in a lower voice, "Twat."

You must be wondering why there's so much cursing in just one scene. Didn't Dad promise to make this film PG-13? Well, newsflash—he was unsuccessful. Stephen very elegantly told Dad to fuck off and let the film stay as it was.

So here it is, my first R-rated feature film. Though only because of the language, mind you. There's no sex or disturbing violence to warrant that rating.

"Good job, Draven, Troy. Troy, just remember to tone down your performance a little. We're not showing Billy as an overly immature kid."

I nodded, understanding what he was trying to convey. Just now, I had acted more like a five-year-old throwing a tantrum, threatening to rat out his brother to Daddy. I needed to double the age to show a more helpless kid being slightly bullied by his brother.

We continued going over all the scenes, from the first page to the last, discussing everything in detail.

"For the next scene, we need to do a little dance. Troy, you up for it?" Stephen challenged.

"Right now?" I asked incredulously. I had never danced in front of such a large crowd. Sure, there were many children around when I took common dance lessons, but they were fellow dancers, so it didn't count.

"Oh, come on," Peter Darling encouraged me. "It is a dance movie. If you can't dance right now, how will you do it on set? There will be even more people present there."

Peter had accurately grasped my reason for hesitation. I sighed out loud but stood up for the dance.

The scene we were doing was the one where I had to dance with Mrs. Wilkinson, Julie's character. But since she hadn't taken any dance lessons with us yet due to her busy schedule, Peter decided to fill in for her.

We took our positions in the opening stance when someone played the song we were dancing to in the background. We began our dance, and within a few moments, I completely forgot we had spectators. I danced like there was no tomorrow. We jumped, twirled, did air kicks, and everything in between. By the time the song ended, I had a huge grin on my face, and so did Peter.

Immediately, there was a chorus of applause from all around the room. I couldn't help but feel a little shy at the attention I was receiving.

"Yes, that's exactly what I wanted from you!" Stephen exclaimed as he stood up in excitement. "Well done, Troy. Keep performances like these up, and our editors won't have too much of a job left." He cracked a smile at the end.

"Thank you, Stephen," I said, dipping my head in acknowledgment of his praise.

"Let's continue with the next scene."

(Break)

After the table read, the days passed in a blur. I juggled my time between various academic and extracurricular classes. My dialect coach, Rita, was very impressed with my progress and insisted I didn't need many lessons. But the studio insisted we continue, so we struck a deal. She taught me different versions of English dialects from all over the world—like French English, Russian English, and Scottish English. It was fun while it lasted.

A week before the movie was set to begin, we went back to the Durham accent so it would be easier for me to get into character quickly without mixing up different accents while shooting. Luckily for me, Rita was contracted to be on set to ensure I didn't fumble my words while filming.

That's the professionalism you get when a big Hollywood studio gets involved in the production. Originally being made solely by BBC Films, the movie received investment from Universal. With the involvement of such a big studio, the budget increased, reflecting better production values. Thus, Rita's full-time presence on the set for my dialect.

With the onset of June, Mum and I found ourselves making our way to Easington Colliery in County Durham, the primary location for shooting, with most of the scenes set here.

Billy's house was the initial location where we would begin shooting the first scene.

"Troy, you're here! Great!" A voice called out from the old, abandoned neighborhood where we were set to shoot. I looked up, unable to hide my surprise at seeing Jon Finn, one of the producers, standing there to welcome us.

"Jon," Mum greeted him with a nod, "didn't expect you to come here personally."

Jon shook his head with a smile. "I'm the line producer. Of course, I'd come to show you the way. Come, I'll show you your trailer and practice area. Careful with your step, by the way; it rained yesterday, and the ground is still muddy. Poor Jamie had a little accident."

The line producer is the main producer on the film set. It's his responsibility to keep a tight lid on the budget and ensure the director doesn't overspend. Jon led us around the set that was still being, well, set up. "As you know, we don't have much money to spare, so you'll be sharing your trailer with Jamie Bell, who plays Billy's friend Michael. It's basically one big trailer cut in half, one side for Jamie, and one side for you. You won't mind, right?"

"Of course, we don't mind," Mum answered nonchalantly. "We do have separate bathrooms, right?"

"Yes, yes. Separate entrances, bathrooms, everything. That building over there is your practice studio for dance." Jon explained as we reached the area where the trailer was located. "Here we are. Why don't you settle in? I'll send makeup and costumes in a few. Ask for me if you need anything."

As Jon walked off, I stood there looking at the two entrances to the trailer, unsure where to enter. I turned to Mum with a curious gaze, and she just shrugged. Jon must have forgotten to tell us which part of the trailer was ours.

While shooting [The Sixth Sense], I didn't have to share a trailer, and it had a placard with my name printed on it, making it easier for hair and makeup to find me. Here, there were no such distinctions, just a number: 5C.

Deciding to just go with it, I opened one of the doors at random and went right in. What's the worst that could happen?

As I stepped in and took in the interior of the trailer, I thought it to be okay-ish. It had a small coffee table with three chairs, a small refrigerator, a makeup section, a small sofa, a door that probably led to the bathroom, muddy clothes, a kitchenette... Wait. Muddy clothes?

Right then the door to the bathroom opened and out came a 12-year-old boy. Now it wouldn't have been so bad if the boy was wearing any clothes, or even had a towel around him, or wasn't sopping wet from head to toe.

"Aaahhhh!!" The boy, whom I now recognize as Jamie Bell, shrieked and ducked back into the bathroom after covering his crotch with his hands.

"We're sorry," Mum called out, "We thought it was our trailer. We'll be going out so you can change." She then dragged me out to lead us towards the other side.

"Jon is very careless," Mum muttered angrily, "Who shows them to their trailer and not go in with them?"

Meanwhile, all I could think was that poor Jamie had probably received mental trauma from our intrusion in his trailer.

"Relax Mum," I soothed as we entered the correct trailer this time, "It was an honest mistake. Can happen to anyone…"

I stopped speaking as I looked around my trailer. It was much larger in space than the one allotted to Jamie. More couches, chairs, a bigger kitchen area, and even a single bed for me to use between takes. It wasn't better than the one I got during the Sixth Sense, but the differences were astounding.

"Is it just me, or is this one bigger than the other side?" I finally asked Mum after a minute or so.

"You're the lead actor," She said as if that answered everything.

And it did in some way. It hadn't even occurred to me till now. While I'm a great proponent of equal treatment for everyone on paper, I also knew that it was impossible in the society we live in for us to follow the same principle in practice as well.

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