The Best Movie Actor Chapter 252

"You can't fight the exhaustion after a tense day, so you've fallen into a deep sleep."

In a small studio near the University of Toronto, Zack Snyder slipped off his headphones. Standing on a set dressed to look like a police station, he laid out the scene's backstory for Matthew. "When you wake up, the world has completely changed. The station isn't bustling anymore; it's eerily quiet. Then your partner gets attacked and turns into a zombie."

Matthew nodded at Zack. He was dressed in a form-fitting black police-style t-shirt and black tactical trousers.

Zack turned and crouched before a little girl in ghastly makeup, walking her through the scene. Compared to a seasoned professional like Matthew, child actors were a director's constant headache.

Every director had their own quirks and demands, and Zack Snyder was clearly different from anyone Matthew had worked with before. He forbade rehearsals prior to shooting, striving instead to capture the spontaneous sparks that could ignite during a live take. The approach perfectly suited the film's premise: a group of strangers thrown together by a catastrophe.

As a result, the actors hadn't t or rehearsed together at all during pre-production.

The exception, of course, was for any actor whose character used firearms. They were required to undergo proper training to gain a fundantal understanding of weapons handling.

Matthew wasn't sure what arrangents had been made for the others. In any case, he hadn't worked with any of his castmates before arriving in Toronto.

The Canadian city was a favorite location for Hollywood productions, so much so that it was often called "Hollywood North." It was currently the third-largest film production center in North Arica, right behind Los Angeles and New York.

After arriving in Canada, Matthew learned that Universal Pictures and Sean Daniel had chosen Toronto for reasons beyond just securing a large shopping mall slated for demolition.

Beyond its convenient proximity to the Hollywood ecosystem, the generous tax incentives offered by the city were a major draw. Matthew had overheard Sean Daniel ntion that the Toronto governnt was providing a subsidy covering nearly ten percent of the production costs.

And that wasn't even the upper limit. Matthew later found out that the local governnt could subsidize Hollywood productions for up to twelve percent of their total cost.

Compared to California and Los Angeles, that kind of incentive was impossible to resist.

If he were a producer, he'd bring his crew here over Los Angeles every ti.

Zack finished briefing the little girl, gave a few more instructions to her guardian, then offered so quick notes to another actor in a police uniform. After a final check to ensure there were no other issues, he was ready to start filming.

While Matthew hadn't rehearsed on set, he was one of the first principal actors to receive the script. Ever since signing his contract at the start of the month, he had been diligently studying the role and getting assistance with his scenes at the Angel Acting Agency. He had already worked through every single one of them.

"Dawn of the Dead, scene one, take one," the assistant director's voice called out. "Action!"

Zack and the director of photography each operated a cara, capturing the scene from two simultaneous angles. An unusual silence fell over the set, a specific request from the director. The entire crew seed to be holding their breath.

On the sofa, Matthew rolled over as if waking from a deep sleep. He stretched, glanced at the wall clock, and was just about to get up when his partner, who had been resting by the door, also began to stir.

A series of bizarre biting incidents had plagued the district since the previous day, keeping the police force stretched thin. Matthew's character and his partner had been working late into the night and, too exhausted to go ho, had found an empty room in the station to catch so sleep.

Suddenly, the door was thrown open from the outside, flooding the room with harsh sunlight. Matthew squinted, his eyes adjusting to the glare. The little girl who had been near the door approached him. "Is sothing wrong?" he asked.

It was the girl they had found on the road the previous night, separated from her family, and brought back to the station.

Matthew's eyes were still adjusting to the glare when he noticed sothing was wrong with the little girl's mouth. It looked like blood was oozing from it. Before he could react, she lunged forward and sank her teeth into his partner's neck, right over the main artery.

The pre-placed blood pack ruptured on cue, sending a spray of fake blood splattering against the pristine white wall.

Matthew's reaction was instantaneous. He lunged forward and yanked the little girl off his partner. A piece of bloody prosthetic skin ripped away from the other actor’s neck as he collapsed, clutching the wound. The girl imdiately turned on Matthew, her blood-sared mouth gaping as she tried to bite him.

Matthew's expression flashed with shock and a hint of panic, but a steely self-control quickly took over—he was, after all, playing a veteran cop. He grabbed the girl by the shoulders and forcefully shoved her away.

Matthew then scrambled to the door, slamming it shut. A mont later, a heavy thud slamd against it from the other side, making the entire fra shudder.

Ignoring the pounding at the door, Matthew spun around to check on his partner. The man was on the floor, convulsing, blood gushing from the wound in his neck. Matthew hastily grabbed a towel and pressed it against the injury.

"Help!" he shouted. "I need help!"

But the only response was a dead, eerie silence.

His face a mask of desperation, unable to stanch the bleeding, Matthew snatched the blood-slicked radio from his partner's belt. "I need backup! Officer down!"

Again, the radio offered no response, only the crackle and hiss of static.

"Cut!" Zack Snyder called out, halting the scene. He turned to Matthew. "Great! But Matthew, there are a few subtle expressions I need you to push a little more. Let's take it from the top."

Besides producer Sean Daniel, Matthew was arguably the biggest na on set. Zack had spent years directing music videos for pop stars and comrcials for major brands, so he knew how to handle celebrities. In many ways, a director's job was as much about coordination and communication as it was about art.

"No problem," Matthew replied.

He sat down on the sofa to one side, and a makeup artist imdiately ca over to touch up his face. The other two actors had it worse; they needed a full makeup reset. The actor playing his partner even had to shower before the prosthetics and blood could be reapplied.

Yet no one complained, despite knowing that the need for a retake was due to a nuance in Matthew's performance.

Such were the perks of being the star.

An hour later, filming resud. Matthew's performance was sharper this ti. Zack, whose background in comrcials and music videos trained his eye more on a shot's overall composition than on the subtleties of acting, felt the take t his requirents and approved it.

Having prepared for his transition into feature film directing for years, he naturally understood the vast difference between acting in comrcial blockbusters and performing in independent arthouse films.

The nuanced performances required for the latter—a deep dive into the character's psyche—often felt out of place in mainstream entertainnt, where broader strokes were more effective.

After that scene, Matthew seed to find his footing. There were fewer lengthy makeup resets between takes, and filming proceeded more smoothly. While most scenes still required multiple takes, that was to be expected in the early days of a shoot as the crew found its groove.

The delays weren't always due to Matthew's performance as the lead. The crew, apart from the director of photography and production designer Zack had brought with him, was largely assembled from local hires. Even with thorough prep, a team like that needed ti to gel and work out the kinks on set.

The reasons for the pauses were varied: about a third were due to Matthew's performance needing adjustnts, while the other two-thirds stemd from other issues like lighting adjustnts, actor blocking, cara changes, or Zack's own second-guessing.

By the ti they broke for lunch, the crew had managed to shoot five scenes in total. After filming Matthew's character escaping the zombie-filled police station through a bathroom window, Zack called an end to the morning shoot.

To maintain continuity for the afternoon shoot, Matthew kept his makeup on. He took his phone from his personal assistant and prepared to head to the studio commissary for lunch. His previous assistant had quit, so his current one had been assigned by the production. It was a bit awkward, but it wasn't as if Matthew had anything to hide.

The studio near the University of Toronto wasn't particularly large; Dawn of the Dead was the only production currently filming there. The production team had made arrangents well in advance, so the studio commissary was handling daily als for the entire cast and crew.

Still in full makeup, and with fake blood that looked suspiciously like ketchup spattered on his clothes, Matthew decided to skip the main dining area. Instead, he had his assistant bring him a tray with a few of his favorite dishes, then found an empty table to eat by himself.

The morning's scenes had all been shot indoors. The afternoon shoot was scheduled for an outdoor location just outside the studio. The female lead wasn't in these scenes, so Matthew hadn't seen Jessica Alba on set yet.

He took a sip of water, picked up his fork, and was just about to dig into a plate of appetizing-looking beef stew when two won approached and sat down across from him.

Matthew looked up. One was his agent, Helen. The other was Alexandra Daddario, who had a scene scheduled for the afternoon.

"What's up?" he asked.