The air-conditioned room on the 42nd floor in the One Penn Plaza building was chilly—an atmosphere aptly suited for the scenes that would follow. Ryan had never been fired in a room full of his co-workers before, but the feeling of being looked down upon by his more successful colleagues, their eyes filled with fake pity as he tried to survive, was all too familiar.
Zachary and Ryan were sitting down in front of the computers, preparing for J.C. to say action. Zachary looked perfectly calm and looked every bit like Peter Sullivan: smart, hard-working, and reclusive. Zachary's production company, Before the Door Pictures, was one of the producers of the film, so he was very aware of the script and goal of the film.
I learned a lot about analysts during my interactions on Wall Street. They don't care if the people around them are getting fired as long as they're good. Survival of the fittest.
"Okay, everybody. Action," J.C. called out.
Four human resources people came out of the elevator carrying large file boxes. They walked down the trading floor. The camera panned to Zachary first, who gave a knowing glance toward Ryan.
"Is that them?" Seth said.
Then Peter nodded back.
"Jesus Christ. Are they going to do it right here?"
"Yeah," Peter replied, looking down at his keyboard.
Their boss, Will Emerson, played by Paul Bettany, who was a fine actor, leaned over Seth and Peter and asked, "Have you guys ever seen this before?"
I need to make Seth look real. He shouldn't just be surprised but also scared. He wants flashy cars and a big paycheck. He is not one of the losers, he's different.
"No." Ryan decided to anxiously look around the room and fidget with his hands, keeping the camera on Ryan a second longer.
"Umm… am I safe?" Ryan looked like a kid watching a wave roll in, helpless as it crashed toward his sandcastle.
Paul Bettany didn't miss a beat over the improv line and went with it, replying, "You're good. Best to just ignore it. Keep your head down and get back to work… and don't watch."
Frank G. DeMarco, the cinematographer, decided to keep the camera on Ryan's hypnotic face, which carried a half-smile—and, most compelling of all, his glacial eyes, filled with a hunger to prove himself against his colleagues.
J.C. Chandor shouted, "Cut," causing the DP, actors, and extras to shuffle around to prepare for the next scene. J.C.'s mind was still thinking about Ryan's performance, which was flawless and surprising because Seth Bregman was a small supporting role, but Ryan had stood out alongside both established actors. Since this was Chandor's first feature-length film, he decided to put the burden on the veteran actors: Kevin Spacey, Stanley Tucci, and Jeremy Irons. He had little faith in his directorial ability, so he cast these stellar performers to elevate the movie.
But now, J.C. wanted to add something to test Ryan.
As the crew reset the lights and wheeled out a dolly for the next shot, Ryan stepped off set and leaned against the wall near video village. A PA offered him water, which he accepted with a quiet nod. He didn't want to talk. Not yet. His adrenaline hadn't worn off, and part of him feared breaking the spell.
Paul Bettany walked past, tossing Ryan a nod. "Nice instincts, mate," he said in that dry British tone that made everything sound vaguely noble.
Ryan smiled back and was a bit stunned. He wasn't used to getting noticed by actors he admired.
Zachary approached next. "Hey, that line?" he said with a smirk. "That wasn't in the script, right?"
Ryan chuckled. "Yeah, that just sort of came out."
"Well, it worked," Zachary said. "Keep doing that."
Before Ryan could respond, the AD called for a second setup. J.C. wanted to shoot a transition scene: Seth walking past the firing line, holding a report that he didn't fully understand yet. He decided that Will Emerson would put a report on his desk to scare him. It would be a quick scene to show Seth's delicate position in the firm and his attitude toward his co-workers.
Frank adjusted the camera for a tracking shot. He liked how Ryan moved, which was not overly theatrical. Just natural. Real.
As Ryan got back into place, J.C. approached him quietly.
"You good?" the director asked.
Ryan nodded, then added, "I was wondering if… I could try a version where Seth watches someone get escorted out and realizes it could never be him."
J.C. paused, then smiled. "Sure. Do it. But if you screw it up, it's your fault."
The camera rolled again.
Ryan walked through the sterile hallway lined with glass offices. A man in his mid-40s, loosened tie, cardboard box in hand, was escorted past him. For a second, their eyes met. The man's face was blank. Ryan continued to walk with some sort of stiffness, but it was the brief look he gave the man that was most impressive. He looked down on him, and his confident eyes showed no remorse.
"Cut," J.C. said, almost quietly.
Frank lowered the camera and muttered, "That was it."
Back at the monitor, the playback showed Ryan's performance in that moment—small, but layered.
J.C. watched it again. Ryan was already walking away when he called out to him.
"Ryan."
Ryan turned around. "Yeah?"
"Do it one more time. Same thing."
"Okay."
He returned to his mark. The crew moved the fired employee back to the beginning of the hallway, and someone fixed the papers inside his cardboard box. Ryan looked down at the small piece of tape marking where he had to stop.
This time, he tried not to think about acting.
"Action."
He walked down the hallway again. The man passed him, and Ryan gave him the same brief look before continuing forward.
"Cut."
J.C. looked at the monitor for a few seconds.
"Good. Moving on."
Ryan walked away with a small smile. It was only his first day, but he already felt more comfortable than he had during the audition. He didn't have to worry about getting the role anymore. Now he just had to prove why he got it.
The rest of the afternoon went quickly. Ryan watched whenever he wasn't needed. He saw how Frank positioned the camera, how J.C. talked quietly with the actors before a scene, and how quickly everyone moved when the AD called for another setup.
Kevin Spacey came onto set later in the day. The entire room didn't suddenly go silent or anything dramatic like that, but Ryan noticed people watching him. Ryan did too.
He had seen him in American Beauty, Se7en, and The Usual Suspects. Now he was standing only a few feet away.
Ryan wanted to introduce himself but decided against it.
Don't be a fan. You're working with him.
That thought itself felt ridiculous.
During a break, Ryan sat beside Zachary and ate some of the food from catering. He still had Seth's suit on, although his tie was loosened.
"First movie?" Zachary asked.
Ryan looked at him. "Is it that obvious?"
"A little."
Ryan laughed. "Yeah."
"You'll get used to it."
"I don't know if I want to."
Zachary smiled. "That's probably a good thing."
That night, Ryan sat alone in his hotel room near Times Square. The city outside was loud, bright, buzzing with ambition—just like him. He thought about what had just happened. A no-name actor in a small supporting role, and yet he got the director's attention. He started reading scenes he wasn't even in. Jared's monologues. Sam's final scene in his ex-wife's house.
He took off his shoes and lay across the bed with the script resting on his chest. He was exhausted, but his mind wouldn't shut off.
He kept thinking about the fired man carrying the cardboard box.
Seth had looked down on him.
Ryan flipped back to his own scenes and started making small notes beside the dialogue. Nothing complicated. Just what Seth wanted and what he was afraid of.
Money.
Respect.
Losing everything.
I want to show the overconfidence of Wall Street. The power. And the eventual collapse.
Ryan looked over the pages again. Tomorrow he would probably have only a few minutes on camera, but it didn't matter. If Seth appeared for thirty seconds, Ryan wanted people to believe he had worked in that building for years.
He put the script on the nightstand and walked toward the window.
From this high up, the streets looked tiny. Yellow taxis moved between the buildings while lights remained on inside offices even this late at night.
Tessa would love this view.
Ryan wondered how many analysts were still working.
Probably a lot.
He looked up at the starry night, thanking whoever gave him a second chance. He went to bed and slept like a baby.