Lath and Plaster

Valery Kovács?

Valery turned quickly under the alley light.

I’m Luke Smith.

The metal door he’d just exited through slammed behind him. Valery moved her right hand onto the top of the bag that hung from her left shoulder, where it remained while they talked.

I know who you are.

You know who I am?

I knew before the show started. You were telling the woman next to you that you were Luke Smith and that you would be reviewing my play.

Sorry. That’s not very professional to do and let the performer hear.

I can’t say it helps the acting in a one woman show. Not knowing whether I’m supposed to look at you or avoid looking at you.

Then maybe this will make up for my unprofessionalism. I came out here to tell you that you’re an excellent writer.

So you liked the play I wrote but don’t think I acted it well.

I didn’t say that.

It was implied. As I said, my performance is better when I haven’t identified the person who’ll be writing about it.

To be honest I don’t comment on acting that much. But I do go out of my way to tell people when I’m impressed by their writing.

Why is that?

Because it’s something I can’t do.

Sorry. You’re a reviewer? Or did you just set me up to think that before the show, and you’re really just a creep following me into an alley?

No. I’m a filmmaker. And sometimes I do reviews for Next Week, Tomorrow. You may have heard of it. It’s an on-line magazine.

Of course I’ve heard of it. I send them the dates and times for my performances.

Luke nodded.

When I review a play I write what I think and put it in an e-mail to Miles Forst, the publisher. He rewrites it so that I look like someone who knows what he’s talking about.

Since we’re talking about it. What did you like about my writing? That you couldn’t have done yourself.

Your sense of proportion. You set up a bunch of narratives and then let them. Sort of. I don’t know. Come and go. You keep pulling them back to the surface. But only when you need them. Like. Um—

Like um?

I don’t know. Embroidery. Or a quilt. Or. Or something that uses threads.

It’s starting to sound like you’re telling the truth.

About being a filmmaker?

About not being a writer.

Well. I was impressed. And sometimes I need a writer.

So this is a proposition?

Maybe not yet.

OK. So you’re creeping up on me in an alley and you don’t have a proposition.

I guess.

*        *        *

Luke Smith.

Luke turned around.

Val.

Valery looked like she was regretting the reunion already.

Is Val OK?

If it has to be. I read your review. Thanks.

I told you I liked your play. What did you expect?

You weren’t even hard on my acting.

Oh. That was Miles. He wants to support Fringe so he takes out all the negative stuff.

Uh huh.

I’m kidding.

Well thank him for turning it into decent writing.

I will.

Are you reviewing this one?

Luke and Valery were both relieved to have somewhere to put their eyes that wasn’t each other. The poster advertising the play was taped to the wall of the venue.

Let Me Be The Next Part Of Your Dream

Yeah. Are you seeing it?

I don’t make any money on my plays so I’m not paying to see someone else’s unless I have some reason to believe it will be worth it. This one won’t be.

How do you know?

Even the title is trying too hard.

I can probably get you in on my press pass.

You’ve brought guests in before?

No. Never. But I’ll say we’re reviewing it together. When it’s over you can describe it to me in complete sentences. It will mean less work for Miles.

I doubt he’d print what I’d have to say.

They reached the entrance table. The woman sitting behind it with the cash box looked at the pass and gestured for both of them to go in. Inside the room there were seven rows of metal and wood schoolroom chairs. Luke and Valery sat at the end of the last row.

So what kind of script do you want?

A good one.

What’s your budget?

$0.00

Where would you shoot?

In an abandoned building.

You’re serious?

I’ve lived in them.

You live in one now?

No. But when I moved here it was three weeks before possession date on the only apartment I could afford. First and last month emptied my bank account.

And you were too proud to ask your parents for money?

They were too smart to give it to me. So I learned how to find places in boarded up buildings that no one else can find. I’ve done it a few times since. Between accommodations.

Wouldn’t it be easier to take on more paying work?

More paying work means less time for my own work. I don’t drink. I don’t use drugs. So I never worry I’ll become homeless permanently.

Oh my god. You don’t honestly think addiction is the only reason people become homeless?

See. That’s why I need a writer. Writers know things like that.

So you’re going to shoot all the scenes in an abandoned building?

I don’t need a whole building. Just one room. A room with good light. White walls. Cameras can shoot on almost nothing now, but the more light the better. The reason I wanted someone who does Fringe plays is because a stage is a single room and Fringe writers don’t have money for anything but the very basics when it comes to set design.

You have the gear?

I can get good cameras and tripods from the college where I teach. I’ll recharge the batteries every night back at my apartment.

So you want a script about people who have nothing at all?

That would be amazing?

How many characters?

No more than two.

Can you pay them?

No. But I can probably raise enough money for incidentals.

Like catering?

Maybe coffee at the beginning of each day.

So what did you mean by incidentals?

Like if there’s an accident and we need to go to a drug store and get something for first aid.

Sounds like you’ve done this before.

Sort of.

Alright. You’ve got my interest. I’ll have a script to you by the end of the week.

How will you—

Your e-mail is on the Next Week, Tomorrow website.

She got up and left. The play hadn’t started.

*        *        *

Put this on.

Luke pulled a bright yellow jacket with an orange and silver X-back out of his bag and tossed it to Valery. He was already wearing his.

It’s too big.

They’re supposed to fit big.

It’s like down to my knees too big.

That means more of you is safe. You might try wearing it everywhere you go. It’ll make you visible to cyclists, skateboarders, Ubers. Everyone who moves fast down sidewalks in vehicles you’re not supposed to drive on sidewalks. The key to being ignored is being super visible. I have a stack of these at home. They can get you into any building in the world.

I’ll remember to wear one the next time I crash the White House or the Vatican.

Valery pulled it on. The arms were so long they covered her hands completely, so she rolled up the cuffs. It didn’t look like anything a person could work in but she’d managed to make it look like plausible rainwear.

Luke withdrew a hammer from the bag. From the North edge of a sheet of plywood that covered the entrance he removed the nails he’d loosened earlier. He then pulled the free end of the plywood away from the trim of the doorway, leaving enough of a gap for Valery to step inside. Her eyes said no. Luke nodded and reached in the bag for a flashlight and handed it to her. Valery reluctantly went in, then stood there until Luke was inside too. She handed the flashlight back to him and allowed him to get past her and then followed him to the room on the third floor.

Isn’t it great? It has everything we need.

It has nothing we need. And a mattress we don’t need.

That was already there. It’s perfect. We won’t even have to worry about furniture.

The characters are young people starting out. They aren’t street people.

I know how to do this. We wrap the mattress in clean sheets and get cushions from a thrift shop to make a headboard. I’ll bring in the duvet off my bed at home. Lots of young people buy a futon and nothing else when they’re starting out. They do everything on it. Studying. Making their art. Eating. Sleeping.

I’m familiar with the things young people do. Many of them are in the script I wrote. Which you said you liked.

Valery walked to the window and pulled down the black blind, which she was amazed didn’t disintegrate. The spring even held, like it was supposed to.

Half the material is missing from the blind. Which gives an amazing ratio of darkness to light when we want it. You have no idea how cameras love that. And look at these white walls.

Formerly white walls.

Luke pointed to a big patch of absent plaster.

It’s been broken into amazing shapes, so that you get an alternate texture from the rows of lath. Set directors are incapable of distressing a wall this naturally. They always make it look artistic. The lath and plaster are so good I’m tempted to just film the wall.

But you are interested in the script. Right?

Luke continued to circumnavigate the room as he’d been doing since they entered. Eventually he turned and answered.

Yes I am. And we’ll use it for the auditions tomorrow.

And where are we doing them?

Here.

I almost didn’t ask.

*        *        *

Usually when I get an audition I try and dress for the part. But all your posting said was that I’d be a young guy with no ambition. So I came in the clothes I had on when I woke up this morning.

Rocco Ferrara was wearing torn jeans and a black T-shirt depicting a band everyone knows. He was black-haired, brown-eyed and baby-faced, his shirt was tight enough to suggest a man who lifted weights but who didn’t work to keep excess weight off his body, and his jeans were tastefully torn. Rocco possessed more charisma than any of the six applicants scheduled to audition in the afternoon, though Valery and Luke would never know this.

Did you want me to read?

There’s no script.

When Luke said this Valery opened her mouth to speak, then closed it.

Rocco’s eyes moved from Luke to Valery and then back to Luke. He showed the trace of a smile and waited for Luke to continue. Luke liked that. Valery liked it too but wasn’t sure she liked that she liked it.

I should clarify. We have a script but we won’t let you see it until we start shooting. And then only scene by scene.

Rocco nodded.

I get it. You shoot sequentially so it will be spontaneous. Today is written but tomorrow is uncharted.

Nicely put. I’m guessing you’ve done a lot of improv.

Nah. It’s something I heard someone say in an Actor’s Studio video.

Rocco slouched in his chair, expanded his stomach, and intertwined the fingers of his hands on it. Every movement Rocco made was likeable.

We start Thursday at 9:00 am.

Do you need me to sign something?

Why? It’s not like we’re gonna pay you.

Rocco laughed. He’d worn the X-back jacket Luke had asked him to find in the white plastic bucket just down the alley from the building. Following the introductions he’d taken it off, folded it, placed it carefully beside the unfolded metal chair, and sat down. He stood up now, snapped the jacket open with a single flourish, and put it back on.

Thanks.

Rocco walked out of the room and went down the stairs. Valery and Luke sat in silence until they heard the sound of his body squeezing through the plywood, and then heard it snap back against the brick.

What about the other applicants, Luke?

You didn’t like him?

He’s the only one we’ve seen.

And?

On the bell curve of the auditions so far I place him in the exact middle.

You’ve never worked in film, have you.

Silly me. You being a Hollywood veteran would know how these things work.

*        *        *

I’m Karina Sepp. You must be Luke. And you must be Luke’s Production Assistant.

Valery Kovács. I’m the screenwriter.

Karina had ignored the instruction to find the X-back jacket and wear it into the building, but had made it through the plywood and up the stairs in black thigh boots with high heels, designer jeans, and a black, knee-length wool coat. Pale eyelashes and brows suggested a natural blonde. Her hair was pulled tightly from her face by a series of black hair-clips shaped like angel wings. She sat on the chair without being invited to and didn’t wait for Luke or Valery to speak.

Let’s save us all some time. The e-mail you sent me when I inquired about the role would have eliminated 90% of actresses. The location is not only illegal, it’s a health and safety hazard. And you made it clear that you aren’t paying a cent until royalties come in. Which they won’t. I’ll be lucky to get catering.

No catering. I recommend packing a lunch.

I like that. So far you’re the only director I’ve known who’s honest about the job from day one. Let me guess. I do my own makeup and wear my own clothes.

You’ll be responsible for your wardrobe but I’ll do the make-up. It’ll be no make-up make-up. You’ll look completely natural.

A woman would have to be desperate or insane to accept this role.

OK.

When do we start?

Luke reached for the script.

We thought maybe you could read—.

Yeah right. Text me.

Karina got up and went out. Of all the applicants she scored the most points for consistent audibility.  Luke and Valery had heard the measured clunk of her heels all the way up the stairs and now heard them all the way down. There was a snap as Karina broke the plywood from its remaining nails. Followed by the slap of it hitting the pavement. To his mental task-list Luke added the job of re-nailing plywood to the doorframe.

She’s the one.

What. Because she’s the last one?

No. She’s the best.

Clearly you like attitude, Luke. Or else you have a short memory. Irma was infinitely graceful and Rosanne’s eye movement would make any audience her slave. For what it’s worth Megan was the best looking.

None of them are better for this project.

Explain.

Karina’s obviously not here because she’s hungry. She knows the gig won’t feed her. And despite what she told us, I’m pretty sure she’s got other prospects.

OK.

You saw how hard she was trying to convince herself this project is beneath her.

Which means?

Which means that against her better judgement she’s following an intuition that this is her breakout role. She’ll give it everything.

Valery got up from the inverted wooded crate she’d been sitting on and walked to the window. Looking eastward into the alley she saw the back of a man whose studied pace and black hair made her almost certain it was Rocco. The man took a drag on his cigarette and disappeared into the street.

Valery turned from the window to face Luke who had moved to the metal folding chair Karina had vacated.

What was that about you doing the makeup?

I will be doing the makeup.

Really?

That’s what I’m trained for. I make most of my money doing it for local television and it’s what I teach at the college.

I thought you said you could get cameras because you teach cinematography.

I just said I could get cameras. I’m friends with people at the college who teach cinematography.

Jesus. I finally get a chance to make a film and I’m doing it with a make-up artist.

You’re doing it with a good make-up artist.

______________________________________________________________________________________________________________

Day 1

Valery and Karina sitting on the bed discussing the role. Camera Left and Camera Right on tripods inside the room to either side of the door, both covering the full area of the bed, though with different angles on the bed. Above the stairwell outside the door Hall Camera is duct-taped to the bottom of an 18-inch two-by-four extending perpendicularly from the ceiling above the stairwell. It will capture from behind anyone ascending the stairs to the room and will capture from the front anyone descending the stairs from the room. All three cameras run non-stop. At 23:59 each day all recording automatically backs up to Luke’s account on the college server, at which point the memory is wiped and recording re-starts.

Rocco and Luke step outside into the hall.

Rocco: Karina’s not happy.

Luke: I know. I think she wishes you were following the script.

Rocco: I am following the script.

Luke: You actually aren’t. Particularly.

Rocco: I thought I was.

Luke: You’ve used some lines from it, you just haven’t used them in any kind of order.

Rocco: What. You mean like how actors do in a play?

Luke: Exactly. That’s what’s making her uptight. On her CV it said she did a lot of classic theatre. In those plays it’s conventional for an actor to know what the other actors are going to say so they’ll be ready when it’s time for their next line.

Rocco: Is that what you want?

Luke: No. It’s a film. Which means that it’s about a rectangle that actors move in. Most of what the audience will see is the wall. Good acting makes the wall interesting. The lines are incidental.

Rocco: Makes sense.

Luke: I thought you’d get it.

Rocco. So what do I do with Karina to make the wall more interesting?

Luke: You’re already doing it. Don’t worry about her being angry. The anger is good.

Rocco looks back into the room.

Hall Camera: Framed by the doorway Karina and Valery sitting cross-legged on the bed discussing the scene with reference to the script.

*        *        *

Day 17

Camera Left: Karina moving impulsively in and out of the shot. Rocco sitting on the edge of the bed. The conversation between Karina and Rocco has been heated but at the moment neither is saying anything. Karina is wearing one of Rocco’s T-shirts—too big for her—, black leggings, and torn Keds with no socks. The slap of her footfalls increases as she paces. Despite Rocco’s stasis he continues to upstage her and Karina is fighting this.

Camera Right: Rocco’s back and one quarter profile. Momentary appearances of Karina as she paces in and out of the shot, and good coverage of Karina’s few belongings, including a scattering of black-angel-wing hair-clips, spread over the dirty floor. On impulse Karina moves into the centre of the shot, crouches, stuffs all of the items quickly into her bag, and leaves the room.

Hall Camera: Valery leaning against the wall, indifferent to the fact that she’s on camera, which unavoidably all four of them are most of the time. Karina passes Valery and neither acknowledges the other. Luke, dressed in an X-back jacket, ascends the stairs as Karina descends them. Luke has three coffees in a cardboard tray in his left hand and a fourth in his right which he attempts to offer Karina. Karina moves past him, deliberately avoiding eye-contact, and continues rapidly down the stairs, allowing a good camera angle on her face in the process. On reaching the landing Luke replaces Karina’s coffee in the tray. As he’s processing the situation Valery removes a coffee from the tray for herself and takes a sip.

Luke: What was that?

Valery: Karina’s quit the picture.

Luke: Why?

Valery: She found out about Rocco and me.

Luke: Found out about Rocco and you doing what?

Valery gives Luke a look that clarifies.

Luke: Oh.

Silence.

Luke: Why would she care?

In a moment Luke’s expression indicates that he’s answered his own question.

Luke: So when would Karina and Rocco have gotten together. Day 8?

Valery: It astonishes me that you feel qualified to photograph human drama when you’re so oblivious to it.

Silence as Luke considers this assessment.

Luke:  I’m basing my hypothesis on their performance improving on Day 8.

Valery: Sure.

Luke: And in future I’ll work harder to be. What? Blivious?

Luke takes a coffee from the tray for himself and places the tray on the ground. He removes another from the tray and walks through the door.

Camera Left: Luke hands the cup to Rocco who takes it, removes the plastic cover, and tips his head back to absorb a third of its contents in a single gulp. He places the cup on the floor beside him and resumes facing the window with an expression that says he’s not looking through it.

Hall Camera: Luke walks out of the room, down the stairs, and out of the rectangle.

Camera Left:  Rocco continues to drink his coffee in a manner so compelling it will astound Luke when he comes to edit the footage four months and twelve days later.

Hall Camera: Valery leaning against the wall looking at the floor for the 11 minutes Luke is gone. Audio of Luke climbing the stairs, reëntering the shot, and handing Valery a ballpoint pen and a notebook he’s purchased from the dollar store two blocks away.

Valery: What’s this?

Luke: You need to start rewriting the next scene.

Valery: A one man film with Rocco now?

Luke: No. It’s a film with you and Rocco now. Write yourself into it.

Valery: I thought you didn’t like me as an actress.

Luke: I think you have more at stake now. Let me know when you’ve got it done and I’ll do your make-up.

*        *        *

Day 31

Hall Camera: Luke climbing the stairs.

Camera Left and Camera Right: Luke entering the room carrying a tray with three coffees. Valery is on the bed, far right, her back to the wall, notebook on the bed beside her.

Luke: Where’s Rocco?

Valery: Anyone’s guess.

Luke: I thought you two were together?

Camera Left: Valery stands up and leans against the wall to the left of the bed. She looks at Luke who places the tray on the floor, takes a cup for himself, and walks around to the opposite side of the bed. He lies on it with his back to the wall and begins drinking his coffee.

Valery: He’s disappeared.

Luke: Disappeared where?

Valery: I don’t know.

Luke: You don’t know?

Valery: What I do know is that he has an addiction problem.

Luke: Interesting.

Valery: Interesting?

Luke: Just that when you first showed me your script you said that addiction might be part of the backstory.

Valery turns and looks intently at Luke.

Valery: You get that this is Rocco? Not the character?

Luke: Sure. It’s just. I don’t know. Interesting.

Valery: I doubt if interesting is how Rocco would describe it. He’s tried rehab three times but never lasts long once he’s out. I was suspicious over the last few days. But with Rocco the line between acting and real life is so thin that it’s hard to tell.

Luke: He’s perfect for the role.

Valery: Except that he’s not here.

Luke: Will he be back?

Valery: According to people who’ve worked with him not anytime soon.

Luke: You know people he knows?

Valery: Yes Luke. That happens when you’re seeing someone.

Camera Right: Luke drinks coffee for a few minutes, then picks up the notebook from the bed and walks around the bed and hands it to Valery.

Luke: Write me in.

Valery: You can act?

Luke: No idea. But we’re not going to get anyone else on the project at this point.

Valery: And who exactly are you in this drama?

Luke: How about I’m the guy making the film?

Valery: God. I should walk away.

Luke: Neither of us can afford to do this much longer so let’s finish it. Do you have a mirror?

Valery: A small one in my bag. Or you can download a mirror app on your phone. It will be about the same size.

Luke: Good. I’ll need you to hold it for me. I’ve never done my own make-up.

*        *        *

Day 36

Camera Left and Camera Right: Full moon shines through a gap in the torn blind, giving the room enough light for Camera Left and Camera Right. Valery and Luke are sitting up, their backs to the wall, head and shoulders under the soiled duvet. They’re enjoying the open air, given that for over two hours they’ve been sexually entangled and keeping their heads under the duvet to hide themselves from the camera. They’ve also been careful to supress any private sounds that might be picked up by camera audio.

Valery: That was good.

Luke: I agree. I think we’ve got it.

Valery: I wasn’t talking about the film. But sure. You were right to wait for the moon. I could see your eyes. It helped.

Luke: The question is where to cut it off.

Valery: Oh. You’ll be cutting it off way before it gets real.

Camera Left and Camera Right: They kiss.

Luke: I didn’t use many of the lines, did I.

Valery: You used enough.

Camera Left and Camera Right: They embrace. Valery pushes Luke away.

Valery: Let’s get out of here.

Luke: There’s one more scene I want to do.

Valery: There’s nothing written.

Luke: No dialogue. Just action. The characters leave. For good. We can do it as soon as the sun comes up.

Camera Right: Their intimacy resumes. As they move to conceal themselves again under the duvet the door opens a crack.

Camera Left: A flashlight beam illuminates the back right corner of the room. The circle of light moves along the back wall until it falls on Valery and Luke. Flashlight beam vanishes. Room solely moonlit again. Valery and Luke focused on the door, Valery with the duvet firmly up to her chin. Sound of door being kicked open.

Hall Camera: Enough light spills through the now open door to reveal the backs of two police officers, who appeared seconds earlier as vague blobs moving slowly in the dark grey rectangle.

First Officer: Hands where we can see them.

Camera Left and Camera Right: Valery and Luke put their hands up. Two pools of light move on the back wall. Officers sweep the room. They enter and see the cameras. Second Officer illuminates Val’s face. First Officer chuckles. Turns to Second Officer. Laughing.

First Officer: I should have taken that bet.

Second Officer (who has kept his eyes on Luke and Valery the whole time): I need to ask you, ma’am. Are you here of your own volition?

Valery hesitates briefly before answering.

Valery: Of course.

Second Officer: Alright. We’ll stand outside while you two get dressed. Then you can come down to the station with us.

Luke gestures to a pizza box downstage right.

Luke: There’s a couple of slices left. If you guys are hungry.

First Officer: We’re good.

_____________________________________________________________________________________________________________

Valery and Luke said nothing as they left the elevator, walked through the lobby, exited the station and walked to the curb. It was the first night of the year below zero and they were cold in the clothes they were wearing.

I don’t think we need the scene tomorrow morning.

Brilliant Luke. Did you think for a second I was going back to that room?

Bright side. No charges were laid.

No. When you finally convinced them we were making an indie film and not what they thought we were doing they stopped being amused and just felt sorry for us.

Although the initial reaction is flattering, don’t you think?

How?

Well, they thought you were attractive enough to be in a—

Don’t.

Luke was silent.

They probably have surveillance cameras in every room of the station, Luke. Why don’t you head back in and see if they’ll let you use the footage.

Alright. Did you want to get coffee?

No Luke. I want you to pull out your phone and order me an Uber.

Luke pulled out his phone.

It’s actually easy to do. You just need to download the app and enter your—

I have the app, Luke. We’re not using my account. We’re using yours.

When he’d ordered the Uber, Luke replaced the phone in his coat pocket.

You can do whatever you want now, Luke. As long as you’re not doing it here.

Are you sure you don’t want me to wait? Just in case—

Nothing’s going to happen to me, Luke. I’m in front of a police station.

Um. OK. I should get back to the room anyway.

Seriously?

The cameras.

*        *        *

The cameras, the tripods, and the stacks of spare batteries were all gone. While Luke and Valery were getting dressed Officer Carr—or Second Officer as Luke named him in his script notes—texted dispatch for all the gear to be collected and camera footage be examined for criminal content. Eventually the college discovered where the missing hardware had gone and Luke’s contract was terminated. Thankfully all three cameras were disconnected by the police between 00:46 and 00:58 so that the quotidian upload was complete six minutes after Valery and Luke left the building for the last time at 23:53.

*        *        *

It was his last run-through of the edited film and Luke had only made one change. He’d deleted the 3.87 second shot of the moon through the window that he’d filmed on his phone before the scene with Valery that had initiated their two-hour, 17 minute, 25.41 second romance.

Luke had been his own script-girl and wished he was a better one. The three cameras provided almost 2900 hours of footage and the editing had taken 11 months and eight days. Finding the usable footage was complicated by the fact that there was little pattern to the hours of the day the four of them had worked in the room.

Almost 70 percent of the film used footage from the first 17 days, when Karina was still on board. Of the remaining 30 percent, well over half was taken from the period when Rocco was with them. Karina and Rocco really were better actors than Valery and Luke. Karina in particular. Despite Rocco’s screen presence, Karina’s formal training gave her more emotional range and had allowed the narrative to develop with more complexity than any of them could have hoped for.

Luke’s first cut had been 15 hours, 28 minutes long, the second cut three hours 41 minutes long, and now he had it down to an hour and 29 minutes.

Luke picked up his phone and called Valery for the 27^th time. She still didn’t pick up. He would have tried going to her place and knocking on the door but he didn’t know her address.

He then called Karina for the third time. She didn’t answer either and Luke suspected that it would take even more calls for Karina to pick up than it would for Valery, and he didn’t have that kind of time.

He wished he could get hold of Rocco.  Luke had become more involved in the local film world these last months, and made many inquiries, but no one he’d met had a phone number for Rocco or any information about him.

Luke thought for a moment and then re-opened his laptop and found the e-mail Karina had sent when they were searching for actors. Her CV contained a street address which was only a few blocks from Luke’s apartment.

Luke looked at the time on the top right corner of his screen.

19:15.

He downloaded the final cut of the film to his phone and went out.

All the shops on Karina’s street were closed or out of business. The corner of her block was truncated by a triangular greenspace filled with tents. There were also people without tents pushed to the edge the greenspace by the hierarchy of homelessness, which meant they were sleeping partially on the sidewalk. Luke stepped around a young man asleep under a blanket. A few metres on he stopped and turned. The man was facing away from Luke, but the straight black hair could have been Rocco’s. Or anyone’s.

Karina’s address took him to a boarded-up window of what used to be an appliance store. The floor above must be her apartment. It was a long shot that she still lived there. But worth a try.

Luke walks to the gutter and finds a littered pill bottle and a crushed beer can. He tosses the pill bottle so that it strikes the glass. Nothing happens. He waits a minute and then throws the can. A light goes on. The window opens.

Karina: I’m impressed. I didn’t think you indulged in theatrical gestures.

Luke: I tried phoning. Though I suppose it’s no surprise you wouldn’t take my calls.

Karina: I didn’t get your calls. I don’t have that phone anymore.

Luke: That’s promising.

Karina: But if I still had it I wouldn’t have taken your calls.

Luke: Sure. Anyway, I wanted you to know the film is done. Most of the scenes I used are yours. We’re going to be famous.

Karina laughs, something that was never captured on any camera during the shoot.

Luke: I brought the final cut with me. Did you want to see it?

Karina: Call me when you have a screening date.

Luke: I don’t have your number. Remember?

Karina laughs even harder this time.

Luke: Despite being the first one to leave the picture you ended up being the star. So it’s only fair you’ll be getting the most royalties.

Karina: You know where to send the cheques.

Luke: OK. I’m sorry it ended the way it did.

Luke turns to walk away. Something hits the back of his head and lands on the pavement. Crouching, he discovers one of Karina’s black-angel-wing hairclips. Knowing the vastness of her supply he turns guardedly in case she’s preparing to launch the entire legion.

Karina: You’re going to have to be way more persistent than that if you want to make it in this business.

Close-up of Luke looking upward and smiling.

Karina: There’s no way in hell you’re showing that to anyone else first.

Karina tosses down her keys. Luke catches them and goes in.

*        *        *

Miles: You’re listening to the Next Week, Tomorrow podcast. I’m Miles Forst and I’m here with Luke Smith and Karina Sepp. First of all, thanks both of you for taking the time to be here, given what your schedules must be like since Lath and Plaster blew up at the Streamlight Film Festival.

Luke: The pleasure is ours. Or mine at least. I won’t speak for Karina.

Karina: I wouldn’t call it a pleasure but it will help the film.

Miles: On that note let’s get into it. It’s an understatement to say that Lath and Plaster is the biggest indie film in the country right now, as well as being the biggest sensation at this year’s Fringe. Which has led to some confusion as to what Lath and Plaster actually is. You refer to it as a film rather than a play.

Karina: That’s because it is a film.

Miles: My understanding is that the screenplay, or an attenuated version of it, is by Valery Kovács which she’s since rewritten as a stage play, and which opened at Fringe last Friday.

Luke: You’re correct that it did begin as a screenplay, which Kovács wrote specifically for the film. But as soon as we started shooting we encountered one impediment after another. We fought against the impediments, but the impediments generally won. Which suits me, to be honest. I like starting with a scene and then adapting the next scene to whatever happened in the one before. But I suspect that’s frustrating for the writer.

Miles: What I think you’re saying is that film privileges technology over text and a writer can feel she’s being upstaged.

Luke: That’s a better way to say it. Yeah.

Karina: She has little to complain about since people are only interested in her play because of the film.

Miles: Do you think Ms. Kovács feels that the play is compromised by the film?

Karina: I’m sure Shakespeare feels compromised too. The film resembles Romeo and Juliet as much as it resembles Valery’s play.

Miles: I can’t tell if you’re being serious, Karina.

Karina: In Romeo and Juliet two ordinary people die and a shallow affair ends. In Lath and Plaster two ordinary people get arrested and a shallow affair ends.

Miles: That’s compellingly expressed. And since the conversation is already moving to the personal, we’re sorry that Rocco Ferrara couldn’t be with us. Is there any news about him?

Luke: I’m afraid not, and I’ve done all I can to locate him. I wish I could. If only for the money he’s owed.

Miles: I understand he left unexpectedly.

Luke: Which forced a radical change in the direction of the film. Valery had to rewrite everything. For the better as it turned out.

Miles: And yet Rocco’s performance seems completely controlled.

Luke: Rocco and cameras have an amazing relationship. One I’m unlikely ever to understand. It suggests extreme confidence. Which makes his personal struggles that much more surprising.

Karina: You see the pattern often enough in this profession. Rocco will be in and out of rehab for the rest of his career. I wouldn’t have cast him. But our scenes together are good. Luke’s editing is the real hero.

Miles: The question of editing brings us to the most notorious scene. Where the police enter the room. Is it true this this was an actual raid on the building?

Luke: We were working without permissions. I had cameras on the room the whole time and the new digital systems adjust well enough to night shooting. We were lucky to have a full moon and good light from an office building down the street. It worked with the narrative at that point.

Miles: One reviewer described it as the moment when film narrative and real life become indistinguishable.

Luke: At the moment the police arrived film life and real life had been indistinguishable for a very long time.

Miles: That being the case, is the intimacy between Luke and Valery in that scene difficult for you, Karina?

Karina: In the sense that amateurs are always difficult to watch. You can call it reality if you want. I call it ineptness. Bad acting is real but looks artificial. Good acting is artificial but looks real. Thankfully she’s not in many scenes.

Miles: Right. I hope you don’t mind my bringing it up. I feel I have to, given that our listeners are dying to know. When is the baby due?

Luke: I’ll leave that one to Karina. Making films is the outer limit for me. Making a human being is beyond my imagining.

Karina: The baby will arrive next June. Your next question is whether starting a family is going to slow us down, and the answer is that obviously a baby slows things down. But a baby also thickens the plot.

Miles: Will the child of a director and an actress enter the theatrical world?

Karina: I’d much prefer it if she was an obstetrician like my mother.

Luke: Or a house painter, like my father.

Karina: He will not be a house painter.

Miles: Any plan for another film right now?

Luke: I have some ideas. But for the time being I’m looking forward to staying in a place with plumbing and electricity and heat.

Miles: And for you Karina?

Karina: I look forward to working as an actress and getting paid.

Miles: Let’s end on that. Tomorrow we’ll be uploading a podcast with Valery Kovács about her new play, Plaster and Lath. I hope you’ll check it out.

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This has been an Albatross Event.