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The Hollywood Reporter, June 28, 2012:
Ryan Stone and Andrew Garfield have finished production on Luca Guadagnino's adaptation of the acclaimed novel Call Me By Your Name. Interestingly, Ryan and Andrew both have highly anticipated movies coming out in early July: the summer superhero blockbuster The Amazing Spider-Man and the critically acclaimed, mind-bending time-travel indie Looper. Both movies feature them in the lead and could become their major breakthrough roles.
The Amazing Spider-Man has, so far, had good early results, with critic Jordan Mintzer calling it a "satisfying reboot that slings a darker Spidey, a stronger romance and a welcome slew of tongue-in-cheek humor." Meanwhile, critics have called Ryan Stone's performance in Looper—which won the Sundance Audience Award—an "immersive and commanding performance that anchors the film's complex sci-fi geometry in raw human desperation." Mr. Stone previously had only a minor but memorable role in Margin Call, which was nominated for Best Original Screenplay for writer-director J. C. Chandor.
Furthermore, Todd McCarthy called it "a clever, entertaining science fiction thriller that comes to life with a magnificent, star-making turn that announces Ryan Stone to the world" and likened Stone's performance to James Dean in Rebel Without a Cause. His interview with Conan O'Brien went viral earlier this year, but audiences have yet to see Stone's performance nationwide. The showdown between the up-and-coming stars is an exciting development in an already exceptional year for cinema.
I scrolled down on Twitter and saw a slew of comments:
@jash.kr: A showdown? Are these journalists on crack or Stoned? Spider-Man is the biggest franchise in the world.
↳ @thegustofwind78: No shit, Sherlock. Obviously, Spider-Man is going to outperform Looper, but I saw Ryan at Sundance and he was very good. He was a different person.
↳ @jash.kr: Is this Ryan's alt account? How much is he paying you? Just another pretty face.
@jasmine68 commented: Just watch the movie and see his performance. Good movie with a good plot. I would prefer to watch Looper instead of a remake of a movie that came out just a few years ago.
The comment had about 1,000 likes and some replies. It was all quite bizarre to see: people arguing about me and not knowing anything about me. I was used to criticism of my appearance and, hey, they had CGI'd my face a bit and dyed my hair in the movie, so they didn't have to know it was me.
I was looking at my reflection in my phone screen inside the cold Jeep.
"You look fine," Emma said. She leaned in to adjust her heels, revealing an open back that was barely covered by her emerald green dress.
"I don't get why it's such a chore to come support me for my movie," I said, tapping my thumb on the side of the car.
"I don't get why it's so hard to spend some quality time with my boyfriend when he's been gone for a whole month."
"What do you want me to do? Drop everything and get on my fucking knees? You know how much the role means to me."
"You never called me once during the shoot."
"No phones on set. You know that."
"No phones on set? How did you possibly manage that?" She put on a whiny, baby voice. "You're reading reviews of your performance right now? Star-making role. Do I have to wait for Prince Fucking Charming to give me a crumb of attention?"
The car stopped, and outside there was a swarm of paparazzi wearing all black, running around the red carpet like garden ants on a sugar hill. All I wanted was to go back to Crema, drink some red wine, and fall asleep in that old villa as the last apricots drifted from the lean trees.
"Not right now. We can't do this before." She was holding a black Celine tote bag that I had bought her.
"When are we going to do it? You never seem to have the time." Her voice cracked, and all of the anger disappeared from her face. All I saw before she turned away were her half-closed green eyes and her reflection in the car window.
"I'm sorry. I promise when we get home." I grabbed her hand, and the driver whispered, "We are here, Ms. Roberts and Mr. Stone."
We both said, "Thank you." We tried to forget our fight, and before we opened our doors, we put on small smiles and thought about the first night we met.
I did not want to be here.
"Ryan! Ryan! Right there!"
An older photographer with a gray beard leaned halfway over the barricade, his camera already snapping before I had both feet on the carpet.
The flashes started immediately. A stream of white light filled my vision.
Emma slipped her arm around mine with casual elegance. She showed a full row of teeth, and I forgot the fight as if it had been a dream.
"Ryan! Emma! Over here!"
"Come on, one together!"
"Ryan, give us a smile! You two look beautiful!"
My new publicist, Rebecca, gave me a tap on the shoulder over the mayhem. "Rian wants to see you inside about the speech."
"Feeling a bit under the weather."
She nodded and pointed down the line to the rows of press with microphones.
A woman from Hollywire smiled as a producer counted her down. "We are here at the Looper premiere with one of Hollywood's fastest-rising actors, Ryan Stone. Congratulations."
I smiled and pointed toward Emma. "What, no introduction for my girlfriend?"
She was already fielding questions from the press.
"You look so much more tanned than the last time we chatted at Sundance," she said with a wide smile.
"Well, it was freezing in Utah. But it was nice and warm in Italy. How have you been, Chelsea?"
Her eyes lit up, and she leaned in to put the mic closer to my face. "Great, but I'm so jealous. Speaking of Sundance, this film has garnered so much excitement since winning the Audience Award. How does it feel?"
"Incredible. I never dreamed we'd get this kind of reaction to the film. I mean, Rian is a visionary director, and Emily and Bruce are fantastic. I was scared I ruined it."
"What?" Her voice cracked. "You made the movie."
I blushed and looked away to see Emily Blunt approaching. She hid behind me and popped out.
"Did I scare Hollywood's James Dean?"
"Please. Tell your sister I said congratulations. Stanley Tucci, he's phenomenal."
"He loved working with you in Margin Call."
I shook my head, and Chelsea brought the mic closer to Emily. "Well, how was it working with Ryan?"
She touched my shoulder. I felt like I was in a parent-teacher conference. "He's incredible. He was so devoted but has a great sense of humor."
I whispered, "Do you want to be my publicist?"
Emily smiled.
"I think you've done enough interviews for the whole month."
"I hope so."
Bruce Willis walked over, straightening his jacket. He looked much more relaxed than he had been on set.
He whispered, "I wish I could fucking skip time right now."
I nodded. I introduced him to Emma, who had just reunited with me.
She said, "I love your work."
He smiled. "Thank you. After this, let's take a vacation. My wife is going to kill me."
I whispered, "Fucking tell me about it."
He laughed as Emma pinched my shoulder.
Bruce said, "They're waiting for us."
He nodded toward the theater doors.
An usher opened the doors.
The auditorium was packed with industry insiders: producers, up-and-coming actors like Jessica Chastain, Quvenzhané Wallis, and Dakota Johnson, and the cast, including the director.
Rian was wearing a tuxedo and had a bright smile on his face.
"Ryan! How was Italy?"
"Not better than Louisiana."
"Aaah. You must be the first person in history to say that sentence."
He turned his head toward Emma and shook hands with her. "Nice to meet you, Emma. I watched Scream. I would love to do a horror film."
She said, "What type of horror?"
"More like a whodunit."
Rian smiled at both of us, and people were taking their seats around us. The room was dark.
"If you want me to do a speech, I will do it."
He nodded and went onstage.
Right before he spoke into the microphone, Emma asked, "Why don't you want to do a speech?"
I put my hand over hers. "It shouldn't be me."
Rian fixed his mic. "Excuse me, everyone. I want to thank everyone for coming. This wouldn't have been possible without our amazing crew, from our amazing makeup artist Kazuhiro Tsuji to our amazing leads: Ryan and Bruce."
Loud applause echoed through the auditorium.
"I hope you enjoy Looper."
The lights faded completely, and the Sony logo appeared. For the next two hours, the audience was completely still. From the first scene introducing this cool and sly Young Joe, who looked like he should be on a runway, to the last scene when Joe sacrificed himself, I never overplayed the character's emotions, which let the audience believe they were watching a man break the cycle that had become his life.
When the screen faded to black, the theater remained silent, and within seconds, applause spread through the room until the entire place rose to its feet. The lights filled the room, and everyone was looking toward the cast, toward Bruce and Emily, but mostly toward the 20-year-old actor Ryan Stone.
Producers were discussing among themselves about my performance, Dakota thought Ryan would be a great Christian Grey, Rian's close friend Guillermo del Toro wanted him to be the lead in Pacific Rim, and some actresses there wanted his number.
We left the theater, and Emily asked, "Are you going to the after-party?"
I looked at Emma for a brief second. She clenched her jaw.
"I'm going to skip it."
Rebecca caught up with us near the exit. "A few reporters are asking if you'll stop."
I looked back at Emma, who rolled her eyes, and Rebecca smiled.
"I'll tell them you're done."
"Thank you."
Outside, the crowd had thinned. A few fans waited at the barricades yelling Bruce's name, while two others asked me for a selfie. I entered the Jeep and shut the door, and for the first time that evening, there was complete silence. I lifted my head and reached toward Emma, who intertwined her fingers with mine.
There was nothing to say.
When we reached the house, she slipped off her heels in the entryway while I loosened my tie. I stood in front of her, and she looked away for a second, but then her brown eyes met mine, and I saw sadness wash over her.
"I'm sorry," I said.
"You are not. You love the camera too much. It's not normal. You also need a life. Why can't that life include me?"
I shook my head. "That's not true."
"Why don't you tell me about your past?"
The AC turned on.
"Too boring."
"Can you tell me the truth one fucking time? Do you think this is all fake? All a performance?"
Her voice cracked.
I moved closer to her. "No. No. Baby."
She stepped back and put her hand on my chest. For a long moment, the only sound was the hum of the AC.
Her knees gave out, and she lowered herself to the floor. She sat there sobbing, looking toward the floor.
"Please don't cry."
I sat down on the cold floor right in front of her.
She whispered, "You never take me on dates. When was the last fucking one?"
I just sat there, not knowing what to do. I grabbed some tissues from the bathroom, but when I came back, she was standing up and grabbing her coat.
"I'm just gonna sleep at my place," she said.
I was at a loss for words. My head was spinning from exhaustion, anger, or sadness—I didn't know. She looked like one of those famous horror characters with ruined mascara from the movies she watched on repeat.
"Let me get you an Uber then."
She half-smiled. "You're not going to fight back?"
I didn't say anything. Her heels clicked toward the door, and she turned around and said, "You can't fight alone."
She left, and the door clicked behind her. I heard the elevator go down, but my mind went blank, as if the world and the people living in it were somewhere else and I was untouched by time and love.
I went to lie down on my bed and was brought back to reality by the things she had left behind: a charger, a pair of panties, and nail clippers.
I gathered the objects in my hands, leaned over the edge of the bed, and clutched them as tightly as I could.
Then I began to cry.
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