This one began with him standing in front of a bathroom mirror. The camera was filming his reflection. Fifteen or twenty seconds elapsed before he blinked three times and then brought his hands up from beneath the mirror, into the frame of the mirror, showing the viewer what he was holding in his hands. It was a mask, of course, and he put it on, but it was devoid of all facial features: there was a slit for the mouth, holes for the eyes and nostrils, but there were no lips, eyebrows, or any other vectors of character or gender. With the mask on, he picked up a marker and drew a pair of red lips with a youthful pout. Above the lips he drew an upturned nose that seemed to be turned up at everything and yet nothing at all. Above the nose he used a shading technique to great effect, giving life to heavy brow bones that sloped down and away under the weight of a swallowed sadness. Underneath, he brought the gamut of his talent to bear on a pair of beautiful brown eyes that were widened by innocence yet narrowed by the rough hands of powerful men. He crowned the eyes with wisps of brows, giving a permanent look of surprise to a face that hid from itself far more than it ever hid from the world. Finally, he donned an auburn wig of braided pigtails, wrote exploited by MGM across the mirror, and blew a kiss at the camera.