Hearing Tom Hanks's question, Matthew could tell that a good answer would earn him extra credit; he could see Tom Hanks looked fairly pleased with his performance.
If he answered poorly, points would definitely be deducted.
Both the novel and the memoir mention rumors that Ronald Speirs killed German POWs, but rumors are rumors—neither source ever states outright that he did it.
Tom Hanks's question, however, assumed Speirs had killed prisoners and asked Matthew's opinion on the matter.
From today's peace-time standpoint, killing POWs is despicable and universally condemned.
From a humanitarian angle, it's even more reprehensible, an outrage to both man and heaven.
But as an actor auditioning for Ronald Speirs, Matthew knew he absolutely must not answer from either of those positions, nor from his own perspective; he had to think as a paratrooper who had just dropped into France—more precisely, as Ronald Speirs himself, assuming he had killed those prisoners.
In a flash, passages from the novel—read seven or eight times—about the battlefield situation surfaced in his mind.
This was a character audition; Tom Hanks was waiting—he had no time to ponder.
"I believe…" Matthew began, "under those circumstances, it was the most sensible course of action."
"You've read the novel?"
When Matthew nodded, Tom Hanks asked, "Then tell me why, based on the book."
"At that moment the unit had just set foot on French soil; no one even knew if they'd be counter-attacked and driven into the sea the next day." Matthew spoke as a hardened soldier. "They had three choices: find aircraft to ferry POWs to a camp that didn't exist yet, release them, or execute them on the spot."
He went on, "The first option was impossible—they were paratroopers deep behind enemy lines. Releasing them was worse: who's to say they wouldn't rejoin the German forces? One freed man might end up killing the guy next to you."
Tom Hanks thought of Upham and nodded again.
Matthew's thoughts clarified further. "According to the novel, the unit had no capacity to handle prisoners. They had to reach the rally point and assault the 88-gun battery; POWs left behind were a liability, and escorting them would sap combat strength, so immediate execution was the rational choice."
In fact, the memoir, explicitly and implicitly, more than once stated that during the early landings—especially for paratroopers deep in enemy territory—no prisoners were taken.
The memoir Matthew had read was now paying off.
"All right," Tom Hanks said to the casting director, "I'm done asking."
The casting director nodded, glanced around, and, seeing no one else had comments, told Matthew, "Mr. Matthew Horner, you may go. We'll inform your Agent of the result tomorrow."
Matthew politely excused himself, left the audition room, walked back along the corridor, and returned to the wardrobe door.
As before, he didn't see Helen Herman; he had no idea where she'd gone.
Back inside, with a wardrobe assistant's help, he stripped off the gear, changed into his own clothes, wiped the little makeup from his face, and walked straight out.
Barely twenty minutes had passed when Matthew stepped out and spotted Helen Herman pacing near the door.
"Let's go." Seeing him, Helen motioned and led the way out of the soundstage. Matthew followed; once outside she asked,
"Did the audition go well?"
"Felt okay." As they walked he recounted the whole process. "Tom Hanks asked several questions and seemed really friendly."
Helen nodded lightly. "Good sign. I just checked—the three actors before you didn't get a single word from him."
Matthew brightened. "So he's not interested in them?"
"Very likely." Helen stepped out of Warner Bros. Studio first. "But only Tom Hanks knows what he's really thinking."
Matthew followed her through the gate. "They said they'll notify you tomorrow. When's the earliest we'll hear?"
At the car, Helen opened the driver's door. "Usually you'll get the call tomorrow morning."
"Tomorrow morning…" Matthew moved to the passenger side. "Waiting is torture."
For nearly a month he'd done almost nothing—skipped his acting and speech classes at the Los Angeles School of Performing Arts—and focused single-mindedly on prepping for the Ronald Speirs audition. Now that it was over, the session had felt great, yet he wouldn't know the result for ages. For someone who needed the part badly, the wait was agony.
Helen Herman climbed into the car and, seeing Matthew slide uninvited into the passenger seat, asked, "Where to?"
"Angel Talent Agency." Matthew buckled up. "Your office. Having someone to talk to will make the time pass faster."
Helen Herman started the engine. "I'm swamped."
She wasn't just Matthew's Agent; she handled a sizable roster of other actors as well.
"No problem." Matthew shrugged. "I'll go look for Amanda..."
Halfway through the sentence he remembered Amanda had already left Los Angeles for New York—and by now was probably at Cambridge.
"Amanda's in the U.K.," Helen Herman said. "Once you land the role and shoot over there, you can see her."
She spun the wheel, turning onto another street. "There's news you might find interesting."
Matthew was startled; Helen's drip-feed style had changed. "What news?"
For once Helen Herman answered straight out: "Sony Columbia Pictures just locked in December 8 for the North American release of girl, interrupted. Word is they're planning a premiere."
It was the first film Matthew had ever appeared in—impossible to forget.
"You've got some pull with Angelina Jolie, don't you?" Helen said. "Reach out, walk the red carpet, remind people you exist."
"Probably won't happen." Matthew lifted his hands. "We're square. Lately every call I make to her or her assistant goes unanswered."
Helen tried again. "What about Winona Ryder? You said you knew her too."
"She'd like me even less." Matthew didn't elaborate. "I'll ring Angelina again later—maybe I can crash the premiere carpet."
Helen didn't need to spell it out: he had to claw for visibility any way he could.
"Get through to her if you can," Helen added. "Sony Columbia is eyeing a big-budget action-adventure with a female lead. Jolie is all but set for star and producer. If you can get on her good side, you might land a solid supporting role."
Instantly Matthew felt a jolt of motivation. "I'll try. Pretty sure Angelina still remembers me."
Angel Agency's building sat near Warner Bros. Studio; within minutes they pulled up at the modest three-story block.
These days Angel Agency had grown a bit: besides Helen Herman, four other reps worked there—though most of their clients were bit-part or background players.
Unable to bear waiting alone, Matthew prowled the halls making small talk, killing the anxious, empty hours.
Dusk fell; auditions at Warner Studios were winding down. Tom Hanks packed up, slipped out the back of the casting room, and reached his office to find fellow producer Gary Goetzman waiting.
"How did your side go?" Tom Hanks asked.
"Smooth," Gary Goetzman smiled. "Damian Lewis, the guy you and Steven recommended, is perfect for the part."
Tom Hanks pulled out a chair. "Great."
The lead had come via him and Spielberg; to avoid any appearance of favoritism, they'd handed that session to Gary Goetzman.
Gary asked, "How about yours?"
Tom Hanks lifted his water glass with one hand and, with the other, pushed the stack of actor folders toward Gary. "See for yourself."
Gary flipped through, pausing at one sheet in surprise. "You gave this guy four stars?"
"A young actor born to play a hard-bitten soldier," Tom Hanks said, setting the glass down. "Of everyone today, he left the strongest impression. Watch his tape; if you're good with it, I'll have him notified tomorrow."
Gary stood, returning the folder. "I'll go look right now."
Night had fallen when Matthew got back to his Westwood apartment. After a shower he lay in bed skimming sides; his phone buzzed. He glanced at the screen and answered, "Hey, Bu Bu."
It was Britney on the line. "Hey, Matthew, did you pass the audition?"
"Still no word—should know tomorrow."
A pause, then Britney said, "I'm free tomorrow. Want me to come over first thing and wait with you?"