The primal causes of acting lie in the majestic history in which people naturally and simply recreate roles that tell a story, in any form whatsoever. From the traditional blend in which a role was once merely black and white, silent, then color, then accompanied by music or noise, everything ultimately rests on the human song expressed through performance itself.
-It seems to me no one can deny the charm a film can create,- Raimon commented, fully immersed in that distinctive music, where each of its performances carried a trace of war, regardless of the space in which it unfolded.
Who would want to know about the difficulties he had faced in recent months? Just to be part of an extra's role, something simple for anyone else, except for someone who didn't care about not being paid. The tradition of performance could move him deeply without his ever grasping the simplicity of cinema. It was a premonitory trait: a person taking a role and becoming it. A mailman. Someone is having a few drinks. A mere outline decorating the landscape. It was easy, then, to say that for most people the role they played lasted only an afternoon and nothing more. Because for others, the leading role was themselves.
Performing in front of perhaps a hundred people who served as fully paid extras, earning a steady four dollars an hour, building a résumé that would give life to their next roles. It was simple: climb, learn, repeat. An extra first; then a few small lines, like "Would you like a coffee?" From there came the difficult part: unless you had formal acting studies, you had to take classes and squeeze from them whatever acting work remained.
An on-set mishap where everything felt like just another job. Overtime paid. Payments were distributed among one to three hundred people, all earning the minimum of eight dollars an hour, plus lunch at midday as a casual nod from Lucas.
-In fact, it is for all of us… I mean, it's not that I don't think movies are good; it's just that it really gets on my nerves that these particular films have to be shot in San Jose. We took a caravan from Los Angeles, but I lost three or four hours on the way there, and now another three or four hours during the day. A cheap motel and bills I need to cover for my time,- replied Drew, an extra who stood out for being dark-skinned, almost a clone, someone who had carved out his own spots.
-Well, I think you're being a bit harsh on the whole industry,- Raimon replied.
-You're right, but complaining gives me what I want: a tiny stretch of breathing room from how rotten my life is,- Drew answered, now sounding like a man old enough to know that nothing left was mere confusion.
-So what do you usually do?- Raimon asked.
-I specialize in combat and on-screen firearms handling. I can play any villain, thug, or shooter. I earn the minimum on these jobs, and other times I make double or triple for three days of work. It always depends on whether you're lucky enough to pick the right roles in the film world, from the different opportunities that are scarce. But there is a market for small roles: television series, films, and other unexpected turns. Commercials, events, theater- Drew replied.
Quickly adjusting the uniform he wore, the crew consisted of a total of one hundred clones, each of them assigned roles that involved constant movement through sand and war. They were paid a bit extra—around twenty-five dollars an hour—without excuse, which was double what most people expected.
-I have to go down to the lower levels, where my job is barely more than a bite,- Raimon said cautiously.
-Down there is where they shoot the leads. Damn, kid, you're lucky. A bit more and you'll get some shots, at least,- Drew said.
-I might only do it once, and that's it,- Raimon replied quickly. For some time now, he had a role in mind that he needed to fulfill, paying attention to nothing else; he earned more as an economist, accountant, and administrator than anywhere else.
-So it's for the experience. A lot of people want that; I just hope I find a role that gives me enough life to buy a Mustang, a good house, and a lifelong retirement,- Raimon replied.
The role he played was simple. Logical. Broken. Nothing surprising.
The scenes had depth, but over three days, the pace of work seemed to nearly double. In every opportunity, the futuristic atmosphere and cyberpunk framing stood out, while Billy's litany carried the film beyond its rhythm.
-scene 21, take 2.-
EXT. URBAN LANDSCAPE, CORUSCANT – NIGHT
The DROID crashes into a wall, trying to shake off the Jedi. It moves behind the afterburner of a speeder to incinerate him. It drags him at full speed between buildings and finally skids across a rooftop as OBI-WAN is forced to lift his legs, clinging tenaciously to the DROID. The DROID heads toward a dirty, battered speeder hidden in a recess of a building some twenty stories high. When the speeder's pilot, a disheveled bounty hunter named ZAM WESELL, sees the DROID approaching with OBI-WAN hanging on, she pulls a long rifle from the speeder and starts firing at him. Explosions erupt around OBI-WAN.
OBI-WAN: I have a bad feeling about this.
FINALLY, the DROID takes a direct hit and explodes. OBI-WAN falls fifty stories until a speeder drops beside him, and he manages to grab the rear of it and haul himself toward the cockpit. The JEDI struggles to climb into the open passenger seat and sit beside the driver, ANAKIN.
ANAKIN: That was insane! I almost lost you in traffic.
OBI-WAN: Why did you take so long?
ANAKIN: Oh, you know, Master, I couldn't find a speeder I really liked—open cockpit… the right speed… and then, you know, I had to get a color that matched.
They race upward in pursuit of ZAM as she fires at them through the open window with her blaster pistol.
OBI-WAN: If you devoted as much time to honing your lightsaber skills as you do to your wit, young Padawan, you'd rival Master Yoda as a swordsman.
ANAKIN: I thought I already did.
OBI-WAN: Only in your mind, my very young apprentice. Watch out! Hey, easy!
As the conversation continues, ANAKIN skillfully weaves through oncoming traffic, crossing lanes, darting between buildings, and miraculously cutting through a construction site. ZAM WESELL keeps firing at them.
ANAKIN: Sorry, I forgot you don't like flying, Master.
OBI-WAN: I don't mind flying… but what you're doing is suicide!
They narrowly miss a commuter train.
ANAKIN: Master, you know I've been flying since before I could walk. I'm very good at this.
OBI-WAN: Slow down!
ZAM WESELL and the JEDI race through a line of giant trucks. The speeders tilt sideways as they slide at right angles between buildings. ZAM heads into a tram tunnel.
OBI-WAN
(continuing)
Wait! Don't go in there!
ANAKIN blasts into the tunnel at full speed after ZAM. They see a tram approaching. They brake, spin around, and shoot out again at full speed, barely ahead of the passenger transport chasing them.
OBI-WAN
(continuing)
You know I don't like it when you do that!
ANAKIN: Sorry, Master. Don't worry—this guy's going to get himself killed any second!
ZAM WESELL dives into oncoming traffic, deliberately trying to lose the JEDI. High-speed vehicles swerve, trying to avoid ZAM and the JEDI. ZAM makes a sharp, tight turn and ends up behind the JEDI, now in a much better position to fire her blaster. To avoid being hit, ANAKIN slams on the brakes and pulls alongside ZAM. She now fires point-blank at OBI-WAN.
OBI-WAN: What are you doing? She's going to blow me up!
ANAKIN: Okay, this isn't working.
ANAKIN slides under ZAM's speeder. They race through traffic, one above the other. The BOUNTY HUNTER skims the rooftops, causing ANAKIN to fall behind. ANAKIN accelerates, dodging traffic. They race at full speed across a wide, flat surface of the city planet. A large spaceship nearly collides with them as it attempts to land. They turn a corner and hit a banner, which gets caught in one of the front air intakes.
OBI-WAN: That was too close!
ANAKIN: Clear that!
OBI-WAN: What?
ANAKIN: Clear the banner! We're losing power! Hurry!
OBI-WAN leans out of the speeder and crawls toward the front engine, freeing the banner from the intake. The speeder surges forward with renewed power.
OBI-WAN: Whooooo! Don't do that! I don't like it when you do that!
ANAKIN: I'm very sorry, Master.
They pursue the BOUNTY HUNTER through an energy refinery.
OBI-WAN: It's dangerous near those power couplings! Slow down! Don't go through there!
Huge electrical bolts fire between buildings as the speeders pass.
OBI-WAN
(continuing)
Yiiii! What are you doing?
ANAKIN: Sorry, Master!
OBI-WAN
(sarcastically)
Oh, that was clever…!
ANAKIN
That was crazy!!!
ZAM slides sideways around a corner, blocking an alley, firing point-blank as ANAKIN approaches.
ANAKIN
(continuing)
Damn it!
OBI-WAN: Stop!
ANAKIN: No, we can make it.
ANAKIN narrowly avoids the BOUNTY HUNTER's speeder by diving underneath it and, through a small opening in a building, crashes into several pipes, completely losing control. Anakin struggles to regain control, narrowly missing a crane and barely scraping a pair of giant struts. A massive gas sphere bursts free, causing Anakin to spin and slam into a building, bringing the speeder to a halt.
OBI-WAN: I'm insane… I'm insane… I'm insane.
ANAKIN: But it worked… we did it.
OBI-WAN
(furious)
It didn't work… we stopped!
And you almost got us killed!
ANAKIN: I think we're still alive.
ANAKIN tries to restart the speeder. It quickly roars back to life.
OBI-WAN
(very angry)
That was stupid!
ANAKIN
(shyly)
I could've made it…
OBI-WAN
(furious)
But you didn't! And now we've lost him.
Suddenly, there's an ambush. Blaster bolts fly everywhere. Explosions surround them. They look up and see ZAM WESELL taking off.
ANAKIN: No, we didn't…
Out of a cloud of smoke and fire, the JEDI shot after ZAM. They're smoking. OBI-WAN slaps out a small flame on the dashboard. ZAM swoops up and down through traffic. They nearly collide with another speeder. ZAM turns left between two buildings. ANAKIN stops to the right.
OBI-WAN: Where are you going?! She went down there, the other way!
ANAKIN: This is a shortcut… I think.
OBI-WAN: You think? What kind of shortcut?! She went completely the other way! You've lost her!
ANAKIN: Master, if we keep chasing her like this, that creep's going to end up fried. Personally, I'd really like to find out who the hell she is and who she works for…
OBI-WAN
(sarcastically)
Ah, so that's why we're going the wrong way.
ANAKIN turns onto a side street, racing through several narrow passages, then stops, hovering about fifty stories up.
OBI-WAN
(continuing)
Well, you lost her.
ANAKIN: I'm very sorry, Master.
ANAKIN looks around. He sees something. He seems to start counting to himself as he watches something approaching below.
ANAKIN
(continuing)
Excuse me a moment.
ANAKIN jumps from the speeder. OBI-WAN looks down and sees ZAM's speeder streak past about five stories below. ANAKIN miraculously lands on the bounty hunter's speeder. The speeder wobbles from the impact. ZAM looks up and realizes what's happened.
ZAM takes off, and ANAKIN slides toward the rear strut, nearly slipping, but manages to hold on. ANAKIN makes his way back to the cockpit just as ZAM suddenly stops and veers toward the front left fork. ZAM fires her blaster pistol. An explosion near ANAKIN's hand blows a piece off the speeder. ANAKIN slides to the right fork, where ZAM can't reach him. He climbs to the top, gripping an air intake.
OBI-WAN has climbed into the driver's seat of his speeder and skillfully closes in on the rogue speeder. The two speeders weave through oncoming traffic and then cross traffic. Finally, ANAKIN manages to retrieve his lightsaber and begins cutting through the roof of the speeder. ZAM pulls her blaster and fires at the defenseless JEDI, knocking the saber from his hand. OBI-WAN races beneath the speeder and catches the Jedi weapon in the passenger seat.
ANAKIN reaches into the cockpit and, using the Force, rips the weapon from ZAM's hand. She grabs the Jedi's arm, and they struggle over the weapon. It explodes, blasting a hole through the speeder's floor. The speeder spirals wildly out of control. ZAM struggles to pull out of the dive. OBI-WAN is blocked by traffic and loses sight of the bounty hunter's speeder.
Just as the dragster is about to smash into the ground, ZAM pulls up and skids hard along the pavement, throwing up a shower of sparks. ANAKIN is flung into the street.
-cut.-
...