show that he was entering director mode. He rubbed his temples, framed shots with his fingers, and barked out blocking decisions and marks to the actors, all while chain smoking and switching between three languages. His theatrics may have looked self-indulgent, but so were the motions of most famous composers, and they were still respected.
When he was finished, Cynthia had a strong grip on the geography of the set-up, what she and the rest of the cast were supposed to be doing and when. Why were the assholes always so talented?
Chapter 11
Denny
“Action,” Tito screamed from somewhere beyond.
The director’s voice was in another world from the one Denny allowed himself to inhabit. Tito was in the world outside the frame. Tito had made the decision to let Denny go handheld for the shot. It would be a greater strain on the actors, but would allow them to shoot more footage more quickly if they could pull it off in one take.
The movie they were ripping off, Cannibal Fury Atrocity or whatever it was called, had been shot in the style of a faux-documentary. Both Jacque and Tito had agreed that they would take a more traditional approach to the subject matter, but a few extended shots with the camera resting on Denny’s shoulder wouldn’t hurt them.
Denny had been so high when he first saw Halloween last year that the film’s point-of-view shots had wheedled their way into his subconscious and kept him awake for three days straight (well, it was either John Carpenter or the speed). He wanted to use the camera in his arms to replicate that feeling right now.
He was feeling strong and sharp: no Steadicam, no problem. Maybe if he pulled this off they could even restructure the film so that this could be the opening sequence.
Through the viewfinder, in front of the jungle landscape, he watched his own name materialize in the credits. Director of Photography Dennis Roth. No, no time for daydreams of glory. Time to work , he told himself.
Tito had suggested that they begin the shot out in the jungle, with Denny and the camera following Jacque, who had the makeup girl slung over one shoulder, and then dropping back to reveal that Cynthia’s photojournalist was following both of them and snapping pictures. When they reached the tall grass, Denny crouched low so that the camera lens was right up against the stalks, pushing the grass out of the way with the lens as he inched forward.
“Now! Destare ,” Tito yelled from a few yards behind the camera. He was telling the makeup girl to wake up as they entered the clearing before the village. The shot had begun with Daria unconscious, remaining motionless while carried by Jacque. She lifted her smudged face to the camera, remaining careful not to make eye contact with the lens and beating against Jacque’s back with her fist. Good.
Her hits were actually connecting and Denny could hear the wet smack and see the ripples in his flesh as Jacque strained his muscles to hold her up. It was a shame that they weren’t rolling sound, because that sound effect would be impossible to recreate on a soundstage. It was beautiful. Even if they botched the rest of the take, they could use this footage.
Denny slowed his steps, allowing Jacque to pull away from the camera as they entered the village. Trying to keep his breaths steady, Denny exhaled and panned the camera over to reveal Cynthia sneaking out of the tall grass.
“Take a picture, darling,” Tito said and the actress leveled her prop camera to her eye and clicked the shutter.
Finding her and putting her on screen may end up being Tito Bronze’s only lasting contribution to cinema. She was beautiful and the camera loved her. Denny could feel the pure power of her exotic presence as the sound of the frames whirring by pressed against his ear. The camera was heavy. His body was covered in sweat but he didn’t dare let a single tremor reach his hands. He would complete this shot if it killed him.
Cynthia stepped into the
When he was finished, Cynthia had a strong grip on the geography of the set-up, what she and the rest of the cast were supposed to be doing and when. Why were the assholes always so talented?
Chapter 11
Denny
“Action,” Tito screamed from somewhere beyond.
The director’s voice was in another world from the one Denny allowed himself to inhabit. Tito was in the world outside the frame. Tito had made the decision to let Denny go handheld for the shot. It would be a greater strain on the actors, but would allow them to shoot more footage more quickly if they could pull it off in one take.
The movie they were ripping off, Cannibal Fury Atrocity or whatever it was called, had been shot in the style of a faux-documentary. Both Jacque and Tito had agreed that they would take a more traditional approach to the subject matter, but a few extended shots with the camera resting on Denny’s shoulder wouldn’t hurt them.
Denny had been so high when he first saw Halloween last year that the film’s point-of-view shots had wheedled their way into his subconscious and kept him awake for three days straight (well, it was either John Carpenter or the speed). He wanted to use the camera in his arms to replicate that feeling right now.
He was feeling strong and sharp: no Steadicam, no problem. Maybe if he pulled this off they could even restructure the film so that this could be the opening sequence.
Through the viewfinder, in front of the jungle landscape, he watched his own name materialize in the credits. Director of Photography Dennis Roth. No, no time for daydreams of glory. Time to work , he told himself.
Tito had suggested that they begin the shot out in the jungle, with Denny and the camera following Jacque, who had the makeup girl slung over one shoulder, and then dropping back to reveal that Cynthia’s photojournalist was following both of them and snapping pictures. When they reached the tall grass, Denny crouched low so that the camera lens was right up against the stalks, pushing the grass out of the way with the lens as he inched forward.
“Now! Destare ,” Tito yelled from a few yards behind the camera. He was telling the makeup girl to wake up as they entered the clearing before the village. The shot had begun with Daria unconscious, remaining motionless while carried by Jacque. She lifted her smudged face to the camera, remaining careful not to make eye contact with the lens and beating against Jacque’s back with her fist. Good.
Her hits were actually connecting and Denny could hear the wet smack and see the ripples in his flesh as Jacque strained his muscles to hold her up. It was a shame that they weren’t rolling sound, because that sound effect would be impossible to recreate on a soundstage. It was beautiful. Even if they botched the rest of the take, they could use this footage.
Denny slowed his steps, allowing Jacque to pull away from the camera as they entered the village. Trying to keep his breaths steady, Denny exhaled and panned the camera over to reveal Cynthia sneaking out of the tall grass.
“Take a picture, darling,” Tito said and the actress leveled her prop camera to her eye and clicked the shutter.
Finding her and putting her on screen may end up being Tito Bronze’s only lasting contribution to cinema. She was beautiful and the camera loved her. Denny could feel the pure power of her exotic presence as the sound of the frames whirring by pressed against his ear. The camera was heavy. His body was covered in sweat but he didn’t dare let a single tremor reach his hands. He would complete this shot if it killed him.
Cynthia stepped into the
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