I just talked to my father. He's making me quit the play at Henley Hall. Acting's everything to me. I- But he doesn't know! He- I can see his point; we're not a rich family, like Charlie's. We- But he's planning the rest of my life for me, and I- He's never asked me what I want!
Have you ever told your father what you just told me? About your passion for acting? You ever showed him that?
I can't.
Why not?
I can't talk to him this way.
Then you're acting for him, too. You're playing the part of the dutiful son. Now, I know this sounds impossible, but you have to talk to him. You have to show him who you are, what your heart is.
I know what he'll say. He'll tell me that acting's a whim and I should forget it. They're counting on me; he'll just tell me to put it out of my mind for my own good.
You are not an indentured servant. It's not a whim for you. You prove it to him by your conviction and your passion. You show that to him, and if he still doesn't believe you - well, by then, you'll be out of school and can do anything you want.
No. What about the play? The show's tomorrow night!
Then you have to talk to him before tomorrow night.
Isn't there an easier way?
No.
No you're not.
