The Best Movie Actor In Hollywood! Chapter 44

Leaving David Astor's office, Matthew pulled out his phone and dialed Helen's number. She picked up almost immediately.

"Is something wrong?"

As he walked, Matthew replied, "I just spoke with my acting coach and came up with an idea. I wanted to run it by you and see what you think."

He'd never faced this level of competition before—dozens of actors all vying for a single role—and he had no experience navigating it.

"Go on," Helen said, her voice tinged with curiosity.

Matthew found a quiet spot on campus before continuing. "Since Ronald Speirs is supposed to be a hardened, career soldier, I was thinking... could you hire a current or retired U.S. Army officer to give me some military training?"

The line went quiet; all Matthew could hear was the sound of Helen's breathing.

Matthew had no illusions about being an acting prodigy. "The next audition is in less than a month," he reasoned. "There's no way I can make a huge leap in my acting skills in that short a time."

"Two months," Helen corrected him. "You have two months until the audition, not one."

He knew he was a long shot for the part, less experienced than most of the competition. But if there was even the slightest chance, he was determined to give it everything he had.

Opportunities weren't seized by wishful thinking, but by practical action and hard work.

Silence fell on the line again. Helen seemed to be weighing the idea for a moment before she finally said, "That idea... has some merit."

"Helen," Matthew pressed, "do you know anyone who fits the bill?"

"I'll have to get back to you on that," Helen replied promptly. "I'll make some calls."

As the call was ending and Matthew was about to hang up, Helen added a warning: "Just so you know, this could get expensive."

Matthew frowned. "I've still got some cash saved up. It should be enough."

...

Matthew returned to school for his afternoon language class. He hadn't seen Rachel McAdams for the past few days, and when he called to check on her, he learned she'd landed a role and had gone up to the Valley for filming.

The teacher in today's language class was a substitute, an Englishman, and the topic was British pronunciation—the legendary London accent.

By now, Matthew had learned that being able to produce an authentic British accent was a valuable skill in Hollywood. It was especially sought after for period pieces and other specific types of films, and was often lauded by critics. Many of America's finest actors could seamlessly switch between their native accent and a British one.

His language instructors had explained that Hollywood productions often specifically sought out actors who could master a British accent. This was particularly true for period dramas, where an American accent could be considered jarring or anachronistic by critics. The same went for films set in the UK or based on classic British literature.

The best British and American actors were masters of their craft, putting in tremendous effort to switch accents fluidly—not just between American and British English, but also convincingly imitating various African and European accents.

Reaching that level required immense, long-term practice. And accent correction, the instructor emphasized, shouldn't be confused with true line delivery. According to him, great line work wasn't just about being able to speak the words, but about the art of speaking them—the ability to convey a character's thoughts and emotions through dialogue, laughter, and even sighs of regret.

Matthew knew he was a long, long way from that level.

Still, after all his training and practice, the thick Texas drawl his body's previous owner had possessed was now almost gone.

Of course, there was always the magic of dubbing, but in Hollywood live-action films, it was a last resort for any actor.

"Once your voice has been dubbed, you can no longer call it a truly great performance."

It was one of Hollywood's unwritten rules, one that even a newcomer like Matthew was aware of.

Still, there was one famous counterexample that always made the rounds: the classic film My Fair Lady. Based on the Broadway musical, it starred the brilliant Audrey Hepburn. But while she was a phenomenal actress, her vocal range wasn't up to the demands of the songs. The studio decided to hire a professional singer to dub her singing parts in post-production.

As a result, Audrey Hepburn was famously denied an Oscar nomination for the role.

Because being dubbed was considered a professional embarrassment, a whole industry of accent coaches and speech correction classes had sprung up in Hollywood. They offered a systematic approach to helping actors fix their pronunciation flaws and avoid the humiliation of being replaced by another voice.

Back then, the solution might have been dubbing. Today, an unconvincing accent was enough to get an actor thrown out of a role.

For the sake of fame, for the money, for the dream that had set him on this path—whatever the reason, there was no question that Matthew poured everything he had into these lessons.

The two-hour class flew by, and Matthew quickly packed his bag. The classroom emptied out until only two or three people remained. Just as he was about to head out, his phone began to vibrate.

"Did she find someone already?" he wondered, assuming it was Helen. But when he pulled out his phone, he saw it was Britney Spears calling.

They hadn't seen each other since the music video shoot wrapped, but they had stayed in touch.

"Hey," Matthew answered, shouldering his backpack and starting to walk. "What's up? This is unexpected."

The last few times they'd spoken, it had always been late at night after she'd finished a long day of work. She was a major star, after all, and promoting her new album was a grueling schedule.

"I was supposed to do a radio show appearance," Britney said, her voice laced with irritation. "But something came up, so my team and I had to cancel everything at the last minute."

"What happened?" Matthew asked.

"It's nothing... let's just meet up and talk," Britney replied, sounding like she desperately needed to vent. "Where are you? Westwood? I can come to you."

"I'm not in Westwood," Matthew said as he walked out of the building and toward the school's main entrance. "I'm at the Los Angeles School of Performing Arts in North Hollywood, on Laurel Valley Boulevard."

Matthew could hear her talking to someone on her end. A moment later, she was back. "Can you wait for me out front? My driver knows the place. I'll be there soon."

"Alright," Matthew said, adjusting his backpack. "I'll meet you at the gate."

He walked out through the school gates, found a conspicuous spot by the curb, and waited.

About ten minutes later, an unremarkable sedan pulled up and slowed to a stop near the entrance. Matthew turned his head just as the back window slid down to reveal Britney's face.

The back door swung open from the inside. Britney gestured for him to get in. "Hop in, Matthew."

"On my way," Matthew replied, sliding into the car and shutting the door behind him.

Britney took Matthew's backpack, tucked it on the floor behind the front seat, and asked, "So, where are we going? I'm free all evening."

"You don't have anything planned for tonight?" Matthew asked.

Britney shook her head. "Nope." Then she pouted. "I told you, that radio interview I was booked for got canceled."

Matthew didn't press her for details. Instead, he suggested, "It's been a while. Why don't we grab some dinner?"

"Sure!" Britney agreed instantly. It seemed she had a lot on her mind she wanted to talk about.

Matthew thought of a restaurant he'd been to recently. "Do you mind if I pick the place?" he asked.

Britney nodded right away. "Not at all."

Matthew leaned forward and politely gave the driver the address. "Westwood, please. Rochester Avenue."

North Hollywood wasn't far from Westwood, so it was an easy drive. Following Matthew's directions, the driver soon found the restaurant.

The moment the car stopped, Britney started to open her door, but Matthew stopped her. "Are you trying to get recognized?"

"Oh, right. I forgot." Britney gave an embarrassed smile and put on a pair of oversized sunglasses. Matthew spotted a Dodgers cap on the seat, picked it up, and pulled it down over her hair.

"All set?" Britney asked.

Matthew tilted his head, giving her a quick once-over. "All set. Let's go."

Once they were inside and seated, Matthew ordered a few dishes while Britney took in the restaurant's decor with open curiosity.

After the waiter left, Matthew leaned in. "Okay, what's going on? You seemed pretty worked up on the ride over."

"It's that damn radio show," Britney cursed, then added with a scowl, "And that bitch, Aguilera, is messing with me again!"