Her father placed the spaghetti and meatballs on the table, ready to call his daughter for dinner, but when he walked into the living room, he saw her standing at the staircase landing.
"Emily, come down for dinner," he said with a warm smile.
His daughter gave a slight nod in response, her face expressionless, devoid of any emotion. It was as if nothing mattered to her, a somber shadow hanging over her brow.
Father and daughter sat at the table in silence, the atmosphere heavy and oppressive. Noticing that his daughter was merely pushing the meatballs around her plate, seemingly with little appetite, he asked, "I remember you used to love spaghetti and meatballs. Aren't you hungry?"
His daughter didn't answer. Her father, trying to lighten the mood, pulled a silly face to make her smile, but she only gave him a fleeting glance before standing up and saying, "I want to go to bed."
"Cut!" David Fincher called out from behind the camera, shaking his head with a frown, clearly dissatisfied.
"What's wrong, David? That was the fourth take. Still not good enough?" Paul Tax, who had been sent by Warner Bros. as a producer and production manager, asked as he approached.
"The overall atmosphere is perfect, but…" David sighed as he looked through the camera, "Miss Mason's eyes are too distracted, almost like she's not fully present."
"Honestly, I didn't notice that. I think Miss Mason is doing a pretty good job," Paul shrugged.
"Hey, Paul, we agreed that I have full control over everything on set," David said, frowning at Paul.
"Yes, I know. I just wanted to say that as the director, if you think there's a problem, you should find a way to help her through it," Paul suggested.
David pondered for a moment, stroking his chin. "The takes from this morning were good, but those were all shot separately. I think… Miss Mason might be feeling a bit nervous about acting alongside Mr. Pacino."
"So I think it would be best if we take a short break," Al Pacino said as he approached the two, spreading his hands. "Let me have a chat with the kid."
David glanced at Catherine, who was sitting at the table, staring blankly at it with her face resting in her hands. He nodded, "Alright, let's do that."
Catherine, who hadn't reacted at all to the director's call for a ten-minute break, was feeling frustrated. She believed she had a good grasp on the character of Emily. After all, she had written the script word by word, and she remembered those few spot-on reviews and character analyses from her past life. She had even tried to incorporate small gestures and expressions to avoid mimicking Dakota Fanning. So why did she always feel so restrained, so unable to fully commit when acting opposite Al Pacino?
"What's on your mind, Catherine? Don't you like spaghetti and meatballs?" Al asked as he sat down across from her, tapping the table with a smile.
"You know what I'm thinking, Dad. The director knows too. Basically, everyone knows," Catherine replied, her face still resting in her hands, her lips pouting.
"I don't know, Catherine. I'm not a mind reader. So if you don't mind, how about sharing with me? I promise I won't tell anyone," Al said, raising one hand in a sincere gesture.
"Really?" The young girl rested her head on her arms, blinking up at him. After a long pause, she finally said, "Alright, I feel like I can't fully let go when I'm acting with you."
"Can't let go? Why? Do you still see me as the Godfather sitting across from you?" Al joked, spreading his hands wide.
"Do you think your current persona as a psychiatrist with schizophrenia has anything to do with the Godfather, Dad?" Catherine huffed, waving her fist in mock indignation. "You're insulting both your image and my intelligence!"
"Oh, come on, no need to be so harsh. It sounds like I'm some kind of monster," Al said, feigning a contrite expression. "Dear Lord, I confess, I've ruined my own image. I've crushed the confidence of a young genius. Please, forgive me."
His deadpan sincerity made Catherine burst into giggles, easing much of the frustration she had been feeling.
"You know, Mr. Pacino… or should I just call you Dad?" Catherine said with a smile. "Honestly, whenever we're in a scene together, I can't help but wonder how Mr. De Niro would approach this role."
"Robert?" Al asked in disbelief before breaking into laughter. "Alright, I'll admit, in Hollywood, the two of us are often mentioned in the same breath. But I've never encountered someone who imagines how he would play my roles. That's… really something."
Would you find it even more amusing if you knew this role was originally intended for him? Catherine thought to herself, making a playful face in her mind. Unconsciously, her tension melted away. Her previous understanding of Al Pacino had come from movies and reviews, but now, the real Al stood before her: humorous, charming, and approachable, not the intimidating character from the screen.
"Alright, Dad, to be honest, whenever we're acting together, I feel like I haven't prepared enough. Like I don't fully understand the character and might not be able to do her justice," Catherine sighed. "Maybe I should study Method acting and really get to know what it's like to be a girl who's been hurt."
"Catherine, I'm glad you opened up to me, but what I want to say is—relax, kid. Method acting isn't for everyone. Do you really think you need to move into a dysfunctional family to get into Emily's character? Or go interview kids who've been through similar experiences? Even if you wanted to, your family wouldn't allow it, and the law wouldn't either. Everyone has their own way of acting. Method acting isn't the best or only way. What really matters is whether you put your heart into the performance! So, don't worry, don't push yourself too hard. Just relax, and treat me like an ordinary person, an ordinary actor—I haven't even won an Oscar. Clear your mind of distractions and fully immerse yourself in the scene. Once you've done that, all these worries will disappear!" Al said earnestly, like a mentor giving advice to a younger person. Then, with a shift in tone, he added, "Of course, if it helps, I don't mind if you imagine you're acting with Robert De Niro instead."
Catherine couldn't help but laugh again, sticking out her tongue. "Don't worry, Dad. Even though I really like Mr. De Niro, I love you more because you're my dad. Well, at least after Mr. Fincher calls 'action.'"
"Great! I'm proud to have a daughter like you—well, after Fincher calls 'action,' that is," Al replied, playfully clapping his hands. He could see that the young girl had finally let go of her burdens. He was very fond of Catherine; she reminded him of his daughter Julie, who was about to turn three. But he hoped Julie wouldn't be as precocious as Catherine.
After Catherine overcame her mental block, her performance in the following days left everyone in awe. She perfectly portrayed Emily's mental state—retreating into a shell and refusing to communicate with anyone after her mother's death. The neurotic gloom that hung on her face made it seem as though she truly was Emily, astonishing David, Al, and the rest of the crew.
However, the seasoned Al soon noticed that Catherine was getting too absorbed in her role. On several occasions, after filming ended, the little girl would sit quietly in a corner, lost in thought, as if still trapped in her shell, reluctant to come out. At first, she would snap out of it within a few minutes, but as time went on, it took longer and longer. Once, she even remained in character through two consecutive scenes.
Al spoke to Catherine about this several times and also discussed it with her agent, Sparrow, her nanny Grace, and her temporary tutor, Mrs. Brown. But the young girl always insisted that she was fine and that she'd be back to normal once filming was over. Besides sitting quietly for a while after shooting, she didn't exhibit any alarming behavior, so Al eventually decided not to press the issue further. He just asked Sparrow and the others to keep an eye on her, and he did the same.
Catherine appreciated Al's concern. She knew she was getting too into the role, but she didn't want to think too much about it. The night Al helped her overcome her psychological barrier, she vowed to develop her own acting technique. Even though she often acted for fun, she didn't want to be just a pretty face. Vivien Leigh had her own acting style in A Streetcar Named Desire and held her own against Marlon Brando, the pinnacle of Method actors.
The deeper she delved into her craft, the more fascinated she became, and the more reluctant she was to stop. After all, she didn't have many people to talk to. Mr. Sparrow was a good person, but he would clearly report her every move to her father. The new nanny, Grace, was not as close to her as Jennifer had been. And Mrs. Brown… who knew why her parents had hired her again, especially without Jessica around to cover for her.
Of course, these weren't the most important things. What mattered most was that she needed something to occupy her mind so she wouldn't think about certain things. After all, Hide and Seek was still being filmed in Woodland, not far from New York. On weekends, it only took a few hours to get to the city.
Catherine didn't want to go to New York, even though her grandfather was there, because Mr. Sparrow had already brought the news—Léon: The Professional had started filming there!