A principled man; I am a man of true princip-oh who am I kidding! Strung up and frustrated, the false ego of a man had buckled.
And like that, the sum of an actor’s life is laid bare. At any one time, they portrayed two or more faces to the public. On one end, the famous thespian: another, perhaps the star role on a serial drama, or movie. In the end all the people want to know is who you are when no one's watching. How ironic.
As for this man, it took everything out of him to put on this mask one last time. For one reason or another, the famous actor’s acclaimed role was crushing him from the inside.
But you see, the thing about Lloyd Leonard Bartell; he wasn’t one to take his job lightly even if it killed him. He was an ‘actor’s actor’. Lloyd was the first to support up-and-coming talent, and first to advocate for better wages for stagehands, minorities and actresses. And what's more; he put his money where his mouth was by devoting large amounts of his earnings to involve quality cast members in the production of his show. He was a devout, believing man; a family man, and an upstanding human everyone could come to for advice.
Yet, none of it would’ve meant a thing to anyone if it weren’t for his unparalleled talent. He had his lane, no doubt; but he created the Bartell archetype from the ground up. Never has a lead actor been so passionately coy with ‘cold and serious’ characters.
The timbre of his voice could fluctuate at any given moment with such idiosyncrasy that one could not tell if he was being serious or tearing down the wall that was the screen and peering through. It was scary, and he was so, so funny; and entirely gripping.
His face was…, well handsome, but nothing to write home about. Maybe his nose was a bit big.
Ok, he is called ‘Falco’ at times by, well, everyone; not just for the large eyes, and the nose, but for his famous slick back haircut.
Bartell had quite expressive eyes, and they spoke just as much as his mouth did. He didn’t talk ‘transatlantic’; he was above that. He didn’t walk like the rest either. He was pure rock n’ roll.
Bartell, now at the height of his powers, is involved in a work of which he had concentrated his whole focus. This effort was in tandem with the director who had until now produced his best film; the enigmatic Gerald Powers. Together the duo was helming the primetime TV mystery series titled ‘Conundrum’ for over 11 years.
‘Conundrum’ follows the investigations of private detective Blake in the futuristic city of New Bedlam. Rather than repeating the conventions of most mystery series, Conundrum challenged the engagement of audiences with a unique style of non-linear storytelling.
As an anchor, the first scene of an episode would be, not the hearing of the crime itself, but detective Blake’s matter-of-fact style deduction of the case; catching the presumed perpetrator. From here, the episode may progress in a few different ways.
For example, At some point in the deduction, a seamless transition following Blake's words would center the drama on either an element of his personal life or history, or that of the perpetrator, either within the time period of the crime of even before, that would color and change the audience's perspective of the case.
From then on, two or three key scenes of Blake’s detective work are followed in reverse chronological order, and usually in reference to arguments in his deduction at the beginning of the episode. These scenes, coupled with the 'perspective switch’ scene before them, serve to make the ‘solved’ mystery become gradually more unreliable, twisted, and at times; tragic.
The final scene of most episodes ends with Blake receiving the case, (the would-be beginning of the story) and saying his catchphrase in a cold, seemingly careless way, “oh, what a conundrum...” It was up to the audience to draw conclusions as to the meaning behind those words and in short; just what kind of man that detective was.
What tied the whole show together was that one man’s attitude. It never would have drawn the crowd it did if audiences were not taken by his pathos.
This unique series had reached its climactic final episode, and it was only to be expected that Bartell was going to capture the sublime in every ounce of his last performance: and he was going to do it even if it killed him.
That was the overplayed, phoned-in, self aggrandizing and all-so ‘in-the-know’ eulogy of the man named Lloyd Leonard Bartell that he himself was forced to hear, and that he forced himself to play into day after day on last week’s press tour. Now, as he sat in his trailer, his ears could feel all the ringing of the layered, repeated phrases, and all he wanted was for it to end.
Ring! “Lloyd? It's Gerald. Beck and the boy are out here to see ya.”
Once again, Lloyd stared through his vanity mirror. Behind him within that luxuriously cramped space were some boxes and packed up suitcases. Some were full of items and memorabilia from past seasons that held a special place in his heart alongside his 401k. Others were clothes, pictures, and other junk he brought in there to make him feel not too far away from home.
He spent a lot of time in that room; As friendly as he was, the man was not keen on sacrificing the commitment needed to play his role. Bartell had almost a pre-show ritual involving a profuse amount of rumination, which could sometimes be heard from outside. No one on set knew exactly why. Well, no one except Powers. Powers, and of course…
Unauthorized content usage: if you discover this narrative on Amazon, report the violation.
Knock-knock-knock. “Oh Lloyd, would you stop that ghastly exercise and let us in, you’re scaring the boy!” It was his wife, Rebecca; and she was quite irritated. “Barry would really like to see you before the last shoot, so please lighten up and come out.”
Well, Bartell thought to himself. It was about that time to kick this thing off.
“Alright hun, but only if you take off that mean look too, it's hard to take such a pretty lady seriously when they get so angry; no disrespect, I just feel that really it is quite beneath you.” Lloyd answered back, hoping to puncture the pressure she had held in just to relay those words. Usually she’s quite the darling.
And it was no fib. Rebecca was adorned in a simple blue dress and cardigan, yet there was no question she was a modestly full woman. Beyond it all, the way her smile shaped her soft, dough-like face, her charming eyes and expressions; it all made her a joy just to be around.
Then, as if to put any man to shame for even innocently seeing first a beautiful dame, she would speak-just as beautifully as any actor that had ever graced the screen-
But Lloyd digresses.
“Oh Lloyd…” she started to blush behind the wide glasses she was wearing as she held her son a bit closer, pinching his cheek to get him to laugh a little as well. He tried his best to not respond in kind.
“Hey now, ha-ha; I don’t write the rules on your ship, but this is my show; and unless you want to sleep on that couch in there tonight just get down here my friend.” Gerald said in effort to add more levity, though no warmth was felt in any way by anyone in earshot.
The trailer began to move just a bit until Bartell reached the door and opened it.
“Powers…” Lloyd nodded at his friend with a slight smile. “Beck, glowing as usual…, and who is that gremlin-is that Barry?! How are ya kiddo?” Lloyd clearly loves children. And if it wasn’t apparent, then the discomfort he has for his stepson made it all the more clear.
“I’m eight years old, Leonard.” After that cold response, he turned to his mother, “Mom, can we just go back inside; I don’t wanna ask him anymore.” This response ignited a hurried excitement in Lloyd. For once, he was excited that someone had something to ask him about himself.
“No, no, it's fine, Barry, I'm sorry for the wait, I’ll take any question you have for me! Come on son, let’s go get some soda pop and talk.”
Barry tried his best not to respond in kind.
After climbing out of the RV and taking a hold of the boy, he turned to his wife and the director, “Excuse us, the men must discuss business.” Something more resembling a smile appeared on Lloyd’s face.
“Talk you to ya later Powers, I won't miss that meeting we’ve been meaning to have before the shoot today, you can bet on it.” He held his hand out to Powers.
Gerald stared at him through his shaded sunglasses, then Lloyd’s hand before reluctantly shaking it. “ Of course, and you are sure you're alright?”
“Trust me, Powers; once we start we’re gonna knock it out of the park.” The actor assured him.
And with that Lloyd walked off with the boy.
“Leonard, please drop your arm from over my shoulder; you’re kinda a heavy guy… ” They could hear this kind of conversation developing in the distance as they watched them walk up ahead from the RV.
It was then, when Powers and Rebecca were alone, that Powers felt comfortable asking a question that had been intensely on his mind. An invitation, really, to find out more about his friend, and in some ways, his muse.
“He’s…still suffering with it isn’t he?” Gerald asked Rebecca that question with care. He truly respected the man, and they were as close as Lloyd allowed him to be. But as of recently, Powers found it difficult to approach any conversation of real concern with Lloyd, and it was eating at him. It seemed by the look on Rebecca’s face that he was not alone.
“Lloyd…; at times I just-I don't know what’s going on with him. I wish Lloyd wouldn’t draw away and-”
“I feel the same, Beck, If he would just know that if he were to explain it to us, that we could understand..,”
Rebecca interjected as Powers began to remove his sunglasses.”I mean really, really understand. And I feel that, at least in a favoring-, in a forgiving way, I do. I know it's not his fault it's a part of him.”
With arms partly crossed while one rested alongside her cheek, the woman began to fade into thought for a minute. It would be the following thoughtless words from Powers that would bring her out of it.
“Of course, to him it has to be, that's the only way he can forgive himself.” It was only halfway through his next sentence that he remembered just where he went wrong.
“Smart guys like that always try to solve the crazy and insane...ah! Isn’t that partly why he married his first wi-” Gerald, in all his wisdom, tried not to turn around and face Rebecca, but her exclamation made it quite difficult.
“Did he…, so that's what he's been telling you now isn’t it?!”A sense of betrayal was expressed in the sharp tone of her voice. “He told you it's something else didn't he, that it's something after him?” her voice faded after asking the question as if she had realized something mid sentence.
She made that clear when she hurried off into the actor’s trailer.
One by one she began to investigate the drawers of the desk in front of the vanity window. After that, the suitcases that sat squarely in the middle of the room.
“No…, it can’t..it can’t be.” Like a limp doll, Rebecca drooped down to kneel along the carpeted trailer as her french bob cut ballooned over her face; wholly despondent.
After standing frustrated outside the trailer while she had that episode, Powers finally tried his hand at consoling her and walked up into the RV.
“Look, Beck, Im sorry I upset you; it's not like he’s crazy, you know that, he just has to put everything in its own little perspec-” It was then that Powers turned his gaze from the woman crouched down on the floor in distress to the vanity mirror.
Sitting there was a full bottle of prescribed medicine; Thorazine.