Baz had anticipated that it would take months for Lucas to fully embody Elvis. He knew the role demanded not just talent but an almost obsessive dedication to detail. Yet, here he was—watching Lucas transform gradually but effortlessly in just a matter of days.
It was beyond impressive.
With Lucas so ahead of schedule, the production team decided to move forward sooner than planned. The entire cast and crew packed up and flew to Australia, where the real work would begin.
Unlike the usual fanfare surrounding major Hollywood productions, their arrival was kept low-profile. No grand announcements, no flashing cameras—just quiet efficiency. In fact, for the first few days, the public had no clue that some of the biggest names in Hollywood—Lucas Knight and Tom Hanks included—had even landed in Australia.
At the Gold Coast, within Bazmark Studio, the team settled in.
Although filming was set to start soon, the preparations were far from over. The streets of Arundel still needed to be transformed into a believable recreation of Beale Street, a process that would take time.
With the delay, the cast took the opportunity to rehearse, sharpening their performances to perfection. Tom used this extra time to dig even deeper into Colonel Tom Parker's character, refining every nuance.
As for Lucas, he spent hours working closely with Baz, fine-tuning camera angles and perfecting the way Elvis's songs were performed on screen.
Baz sat in the editing room, watching clip after clip of Lucas as Elvis. No matter how many times he replayed the footage, he remained astonished. The way Lucas moved, the way he carried himself—it wasn't just an imitation.
It was Elvis.
Shaking his head in disbelief, Baz muttered under his breath, "No wonder they call him Hollywood's Extraordinary Actor."
The title wasn't just media hype. Lucas earned it.
Baz had worked with some of the best actors in the industry, but in his mind, not even Daniel Day-Lewis—a man renowned for his extreme dedication—could compare to Lucas's sheer natural ability.
And Baz wasn't the only one who felt that way.
Tom Hanks, a veteran with decades of experience, was still meticulously piecing together his character, figuring out the smallest intricacies of Colonel Parker. Meanwhile, Lucas had already fully absorbed Elvis, as if he had been born to play the role.
It was humbling.
Time passed in a blur. Three weeks later, the production crew and cast moved from Bazmark Studio to Village Roadshow Studios, Oxenford, for test shooting.
It was at this point that the secret was finally out.
The public—especially in Australia—quickly caught wind that two of Hollywood's biggest stars were in the country.
The media pounced.
News outlets flooded social media with headlines linking Lucas and Tom to Warner Bros.' mysterious project, Taking Care of Business. Speculation spread like wildfire.
On Twitter, Australian fans dominated the discussion, sending #LucasKnightInAustralia soaring to the third trending spot.
Photos of Lucas began circulating—images of him casually walking the streets, grabbing coffee, or simply stepping out of his hotel.
Then came the videos.
Paparazzi had managed to capture footage of Lucas entering a black SUV, his movements effortlessly cool, exuding a quiet confidence that only fueled speculation about his latest project.
Excitement buzzed through the fanbase, but in Australia, the reaction was even more intense.
"Australia just got 1000% cooler because Lucas Knight is here!"
"Wait, Lucas is in my country? WHERE?! Someone find him, I need a selfie!"
Others couldn't help but marvel at the secrecy surrounding his visit.
"This man just casually flew to Australia, and we're only finding out now???"
"He's probably here working, but imagine just running into Lucas Knight while grabbing your morning coffee. I'd pass out."
Despite the excitement, Warner Bros. remained tight-lipped about Taking Care of Business, keeping fans guessing.
At Village Roadshow Studios, the pre-production film test was in full swing. The cameras rolled as Baz focused entirely on Lucas, capturing every movement, every note.
Lucas sat with a guitar in his hands, his fingers effortlessly gliding over the strings, plucking the opening chords of That's All Right. The sound was raw, rich, and full of energy—the kind that made you tap your foot before you even realized it.
His grip on the guitar was relaxed, natural, as if he had played it a thousand times before.
He swayed slightly, falling into the rhythm, his body language mimicking that of a young Elvis Presley, not through forced imitation, but through instinct.
Behind the camera, his co-stars watched in silent fascination. Tom Hanks leaned forward, arms crossed, his expression unreadable.
He had read the articles before—claims from Hollywood insiders who had worked with Lucas, calling him "inhuman," "otherworldly," an actor unlike any they'd ever seen. He had dismissed it as the usual industry exaggeration. Now, watching Lucas in action, he wasn't so sure.
There was something eerie about it. Not just the resemblance, not just the voice—but the feeling. It was as if Elvis himself was in the room.
Next to him, Olivia DeJonge sat quietly, captivated. She wasn't analyzing it like Tom—she was simply enjoying it. Lucas's presence, his charisma, the way he made the song come alive—it was mesmerizing.
Then he started singing.
"Well, that's all right now mama, that's all right for you..."
His voice carried through the studio, deep, rich, and unmistakably Elvis.
It wasn't a Lucas Knight impression of Elvis Presley.
It was Elvis Presley.
The crew, seasoned professionals who had seen their fair share of incredible performances, stood frozen.
Baz paced in front of Lucas, arms crossed, eyes locked onto him, absorbing every movement, every note. He was as stunned as everyone else. Finally, he raised a hand and called out, "Alright, that's it."
The camera operators hesitated for a moment before stopping the filming, almost reluctant to cut the moment short. The room, which had been thick with tension and focus, suddenly exhaled.
Then Baz clapped, shaking his head in amazement. "That was incredible, Lucas. Absolutely phenomenal."
Lucas, still caught in the lingering energy of his performance, took a breath, his posture shifting as he stepped out of character. "Thanks. That means a lot."
Baz studied him, intrigued. "I still don't understand how you do that. One second, you're Elvis Presley, the next, you're just Lucas again. I've worked with actors who take hours, even days, to shake off a role."
Lucas chuckled lightly. "I've developed some tricks over time."
"You'll have to teach me those tricks later," Tom Hanks interjected with a smirk.
Lucas hesitated, scratching the back of his head. "I, uh… don't think it's something I can teach."
Truthfully, it wasn't something that could be broken down into lessons—it was Mind Workshop at work, something only he could tap into. He could share techniques, talk about preparation and emotional control, but the ability to flip a switch so seamlessly? That was something even he wasn't sure how to explain.
Tom chuckled knowingly. "Don't worry, kid. I'm just messing with you. That kind of ability—it's just talent. You've got it, plain and simple."
Afterwards, the crew gathered around to review the footage of Lucas performing That's All Right on screen.
As the clip played, Baz watched closely, his fingers tapping against his chin. When it ended, he leaned back and smirked. "If any Elvis fans start doubting our casting choice, I'll just release this to shut them up."
Laughter rippled through the cast and crew.
Tom shook his head, grinning. "I'd do the same, honestly."
"Great minds think alike," Baz chuckled.
Lucas watched as the cast and crew shared a laugh, the energy light and buzzing with excitement. This was a good team. A team that clicked. If things continued like this, production would run smoother than most.
The pre-production filming tests continued—not just for Lucas but for Tom and the other cast members as well. Scenes were blocked, rehearsals were refined, and every detail was tweaked to perfection.
Alongside Baz, cinematographer Mandy Walker observed everything closely. She had spent months immersing herself in Elvis's world, studying his mannerisms, his music, his story. Yet, what fascinated her most wasn't their research—it was Lucas.
Later, when she and Baz were alone, watching back the test footage, she leaned back in her chair, arms crossed. "There's no way Lucas became this accurate as Elvis in just a few weeks."
Baz, still watching the screen, smirked. "You don't believe it?"
"I've spent nine months studying everything about Elvis. You've been at it even longer—since 2014. And you're telling me this kid managed to grasp it all in just weeks?" she asked, skepticism laced in her voice, though the admiration in her eyes was unmistakable.
Baz shrugged. "Some people are just built differently."
Mandy exhaled, shaking her head. "You've always said you see Elvis as a Mozart-type—someone with raw, natural-born genius. Are you saying Lucas is the same?"
Baz didn't answer immediately. His gaze stayed on the footage, watching Lucas embody Elvis with an ease that shouldn't have been possible.
Finally, he said, "History proves that talent like this exists."
Mandy tilted her head, narrowing her eyes at him. Then she smirked. "I see that look in your eyes. You're putting Lucas on the same level as Elvis, aren't you?"
Baz laughed. "Maybe. Who knows? One day, someone might make a biopic about him." Then, with a playful smirk, he added, "And of course, there'd have to be some good family drama in it—especially with his dad."
Mandy snorted. "If Lucas hears you, he might reconsider signing onto this movie."
Baz grinned. They were joking, but the truth was undeniable—Lucas Knight's talent wasn't something you came across often. Maybe once in a generation. Maybe once in a lifetime.
With pre-production tests wrapped up, the set at the makeshift Beale Street was now fully built.
The real filming was about to begin.