Disclaimer: Stephanie Meyer owns Twilight.
A/N: This prompt arrived via Axadams. It's not entirely what was suggested, but it's what my imagination provided so I just had to go with it. I might return to the interviewer/interviewee idea later on down the track, but in the meantime I hope this will entertain.
Vanity Fair, November 2011
THE CROWDED MIND OF EDWARD CULLEN
Things are looking bright for Edward Cullen when I arrive at his home in Hidden Hills about an hour away from the Beverly Hills Hotel. Literally. He cups a hand to his brow as he squints against the sunshine, indicating with a languorous wave where I can park my car. He's dressed in movie-star casual; white t-shirt, jeans and a scuffed pair of no-brand shoes, but the Patak Philippe watch is real.
His home is modest by Hollywood standards, the artworks are a mix of known and undiscovered artists, and the abundance of skylights and windows flood the rooms with natural light. I suggest we settle in the quiet, air-conditioned, book-lined study that I had glimpsed earlier, but instead find myself at a table outside by the pool. For the next three hours we will talk. And talk. About life, work, success, marriage, romance and movies.
Cullen, now 36, makes an art of effortlessness. Ever since his honey-voiced vampire enticed women the world over into the world of Bitten, he has known how to stand still and let the camera drool. As a movie commodity he's as lovingly photographed as any sunrise. As an actor he's without artifice. Edward Cullen is a Hollywood anomaly; a star who doesn't do drama off-screen.
In the celluloid industry where image is king, Cullen was born for the job. A lift of the eyebrow and a cockeyed grin, and boom, men want to be him and women's ovaries are exploding the world over. A soulful look to the skies and you just know how his heart aches. When it comes to interviews, all that emoting happens on the Director's dime, and for a long time outside of that it was made quite clear there would be no eking details out of Edward Cullen.
I interviewed Edward years ago on one of his early press tours. Even then I found out that he was not someone who rushed to fill the silences in a conversation. Known throughout the industry as a nice guy, when it came to the printed word he liked to choose his words carefully. We've had other conversations since then, sitting in folding canvas chairs outside his trailer on set, back on various studio sets before chat-shows, on the promotional circuits.
At the London premiere of Bitten, I had my first glimpse of the man he was becoming. Edward doesn't usually watch his own movies, so that night he broke ranks to say hello fans who had faithfully waited for him despite the steady drizzle of rain before retiring to the celebration hosted by the Director. Hours later, I found him sitting alone in a small alcove with a glass of wine. He was in a tuxedo, leaning against the window watching the crowds in the street below beginning to disperse. The lights were low, and he was shedding his character, setting it free on the screen so that he could slip back into the interior world of Edward Cullen.
Since then he has been dozens of different characters, and finally I have the opportunity to ask him something that I have always wanted to know. To where do all those personalities disappear?
"They're all still in here," Edward replies, tapping a fingertip against his temple. "I always picture it as this chest of drawers: Tyler Hawkins is in one, Eric Packer is in another, Georges Duroy is in another. They stick with you, and the weirdest thing is that I can still access them. They're still very close to the surface.
It must be crowded.
"I guess they've come to terms with each other."
Now those voices will have to come to terms with another character: Edward Cullen, Producer.
The day before our interview I received an email from his office. I opened it with a vague sense of foreboding as our schedules were subject to change at short notice. What followed was a modest press release announcing the creation of his new production Company, 'Stray Dog Productions'. Nothing new there. Hollywood actors and starlets have always created their own companies to pursue projects of personal interest. What set Cullen apart from the others was the announcement of his exclusive intention to pursue and fund indie films. Was that a smart move from a guy who made his career in blockbuster mainstream?
"It makes sense, he's a cinephile," says Reese Witherspoon, who plays Marlene, a circus performer and Cullen's love interest in his latest movie. "He's like a film student, he watches everything and anything."
"Hollywood can get a little too comfortable," Cullen concedes when I press him further. "It's beautifully stylised, but it can lull into a false sense of security. There needs to be a balance between mainstream and indie, otherwise things can get boring."
Which makes indie movies more exotic by comparison?
"Certainly more textured. When they're on a tight budget every minute, every word has to count, and not getting it right makes for a very immediate success or failure. This is my way of giving the underdog a fighting chance."
So is it the stray dogs, or underdogs that have a new champion?
"Both. Either way you get rewarded with a very particular kind of fierce loyalty … and maybe fleas."
Another Hollywood anomaly: the coincidence that was too good to be true. Exploring loyalties has seen Cullen working on mainstream and indie productions that have been rewarding in more ways than one. He was already dating his now-wife Isabella when they discovered one of her scripts was being considered by his team.
"Her name wasn't even on it," Cullen laughs when pressed for details. "We still get teased about the look on our faces when we each arrived for the meeting."
Straydog's latest production – Dirty Deeds – screened at Sundance to critical acclaim last month and buzz is mounting about international distribution. Naysayers are still saying that Cullen is spreading himself too thin – James Franco, anyone? – but he remains undeterred.
"You can always find a way to make something feel right," Cullen says with just the right amount of certitude. "I'm trying to slow down, get behind the camera a bit more for a change, and it feels good. Bella taught me that."
How so?
"We were talking about how many movies I'd made so far, and how much longer I wanted to keep working."
Cullen's voice trailed off and he sits silent for a long time, staring back into the house. It isn't until I shift in my seat to follow his gaze that I can see what's captured his attention. It's a simple thing really. Bella has reappeared from the study and is standing in front of the open refrigerator, drumming her fingers against the door as she perhaps wonders what to make for lunch. It's a scene played out in countless homes, and as she moves toward the counter he tracks her movement like a compass dart. She looks up to see him watching her, and blows him a raspberry. He grins and the moment is broken.
"She got me thinking about trying something different, changing where I stood on the film set in relation to what was going on. I guess it's a benefit of being married to a writer because when they want to make a point they can really nail it. She said that I only have so many faces in my pocket."
The face I'm seeing now is relaxed and expansive, a long way from his polite but guarded persona that I first met all those years ago. It helps that Isabella and I have met a few times through work, and that the photographer who will be scheduling the accompanying photo shoot for this article in the coming days is a personal friend of the couple. Even so, there are still social boundaries that he's careful to maintain. In the age of Twitter, Cullen can be tracked down within moments once he steps outside. Was that one of the reasons he moved the interview from Beverley Hills Hotel to his home?
He considers my question for a moment before proffering my empty cup with a crinkle-eyed grin. "They don't do free refills."
Did I mention he makes a great coffee?
