In the dilapidated warehouse, the lights on the ceiling gradually dimmed, leaving only David Robbie's set lights flickering. Beneath the lights lay a massive iron cage. Positioned diagonally on either side of the cage were two 35mm cameras, with Murphy and cinematographer Philip LaShell behind each.
Through the lens, the cage appeared menacing, adorned with sharp iron wires crafted by prop master Beck Claibert from rubber, appearing disturbingly real.
A chubby man in nothing but shorts emerged from the makeshift dressing room. James Franco whistled at his fat rolls, and the man responded with a middle finger, striding confidently toward the cage's entrance, glancing over at Murphy's direction.
This wasn't official shooting; it was merely a rehearsal to test props, lighting, and makeup effects. Murphy made a 'OK' gesture toward the chubby man before he entered the cage.
The man, resembling someone fleeing from a relentless pursuer, hurled himself into the cage. As the iron wires ensnared him, he howled in simulated agony, resembling a victim of a savage predator. The wires pierced his skin, oozing crimson fluid, presenting a grisly spectacle.
Subsequently, the silicone prosthetics adhered to his body ruptured as planned, revealing gruesome "wounds" that were as unsettling as they were convincing.
"Cut!" Murphy turned off the camera, exchanging thoughts with LaShell. "The cage and wires are fine, as is the setting..."
The man had already exited the cage and was looking toward Murphy's direction. Murphy nodded at him. "Jonah's performance was good."
The man, now makeup-free, donning an oversized T-shirt and jeans, his ample belly protruding, grinned broadly.
Murphy wasn't one to excessively criticize; he preferred to encourage his actors rather than berate them. After praising their performances, he also pointed out areas for improvement. Turning to the lighting team, he requested a harsher light for the dark film and instructed additional backlighting for Jonah to appear more pale on screen.
The iron wires, while not lethal, were meant to simulate fatal injuries, hence Murphy's directive to make Jonah's makeup appear even paler when his character died.
The crew took note of Murphy's instructions, brainstorming solutions to address the issues encountered during the rehearsal.
"Let's call it a day," Murphy checked the time. "Resolve today's issues before the official shoot."
Returning to the camera, Murphy reviewed the footage with LaShell. Given the rubber material used for the wires, some parts looked somewhat artificial upon contact with the actor's body.
Editor Jody Griffiths also joined them, suggesting a jump cut technique to retain the close-ups of the wires while transitioning swiftly to shots of the actor's horrifying wounds.
"That works," Murphy nodded.
As the day's work concluded, Murphy packed up the film reels and exited the set, heading toward the security office, which also served as the temporary production office. Inside, three men were engaged in boisterous conversation.
"You don't know, Seth..."
Jonah, now out of makeup, clad in an oversized T-shirt and jeans, belly jiggling, regaled them with tales. James Franco couldn't help but interrupt, grabbing him. "Alright, fellas, someone's treating tonight. Let's decide on a place."
Murphy knocked on the door, and the three men, excluding Jonah, who wasn't as familiar with him, weren't fazed and continued laughing.
"Hey, director Stanton," Jonah greeted as he turned around.
"Don't mention it," Murphy nodded with a smile. "Just call me Murphy."
James Franco, in contrast, was less formal and dragged Murphy outside. "Come on, buddy, someone's buying drinks tonight. Let's pick a spot."
Jonah chimed in, "I know a great place in Venice. They have fantastic shows there."
Seth followed, quipping from behind, "Jonah Hill, are you taking us to a gay bar?"
"You fatso!" Jonah retorted, full of expletives, pointing at Seth. "You're the gay one! You fat gay!"
It was the crew's day off tomorrow, and Murphy saw no reason to decline.
Observing their camaraderie, Murphy felt his tense nerves relax a bit. He'd been too wound up lately, even in moments of solitude, his mind remained tense.
Ever since leaving prison, he'd cherished every moment, knowing time was precious. Whether as a street journalist or transitioning to the film industry, Murphy had imposed strict standards on himself, adding to the pressure that sometimes triggered his headaches.
People couldn't be constantly on edge; sometimes, relaxation was necessary.
As the car drove off, Murphy could already tell Jonah Hill, not yet twenty, was the most uncensored among them.
Of course, the other two weren't far behind in their vulgarity.
Among them, James Franco appeared the most composed, but beneath his refined exterior lay an eccentric personality, occasionally exhibiting absurd behavior. His greatest flaw was his timidity, often seeking refuge behind others in moments of crisis.
Seth may have seemed simple and honest, but his penchant for dirty jokes earned him the title of a scoundrel.
Following Jonah's directions, the black Ford pulled up outside a strip club.