Capítulo 548: Cutaways
"Detachment" was an exceptionally unique film. Beyond the main narrative of the movie, the camera frequently focused on Henry, conducting extensive interviews, or rather, internal monologues, to interpret and explain the core ideas of the story. These thoughts were then blended into the film's theme in a fragmented manner. It wasn't the typical documentary-style voice-over narration but more akin to a soliloquy in a one-act play.
This form of expression was quite common in theater, with the most famous example being the classic line from "Hamlet", "To be, or not to be, that is the question."
The entire monologue consisted of nearly four hundred words, lasting approximately three to five minutes in performance time. It was not only cryptic and profound but also filled with philosophical reflections, presenting a stern challenge for actors. However, as Shakespearean plays gained widespread recognition, this iconic monologue gained prominence. Many people began practicing it repeatedly, and it gradually became an important part of basic acting classes. Its popularity gave the impression that it wasn't as difficult as it truly was.
In "Detachment", Tony turned the camera towards the protagonist, granting Henry ample space for monologues. These soliloquies were filled with introspection, musings, murmurs, and soft recitations. They wove a poetic quality into the film, with the text as the structure and performance as the color, imparting a unique texture to the movie.
However, due to this approach, the film's shooting process couldn't proceed linearly. Deciding when to shoot the main storyline, when to capture the monologues, and how to coordinate the continuity and outbursts of emotions posed questions that Tony had to consider in advance. The production team then made corresponding arrangements.
Today marked the official start of filming for "Detachment". According to the script's order, the first scene should depict Henry's routine on the evening before he starts work, revealing his loneliness, desolation, and sadness. Following that, the high school principal would face scrutiny and challenges from the education department due to the school's consistently declining grades, dragging down the entire state's academic performance. Furthermore, the students' unruly behavior had become a recurring issue, necessitating reforms.
Both of these scenes posed significant challenges, involving extensive dialogue and camera transitions.
Even though "Detachment" was an independent film production and carried an artistic style with Tony's whimsical and unpredictable approach, he still hoped for a smooth shooting process. There was a superstition attached to the significance of starting the shoot on the right foot with the first scene. Therefore, after careful consideration, Tony decided to skip the first two scenes in the script and opt for the simplest one to kick off today's work.
The substitute teacher, Henry, alighted from the public bus and stood briefly at the bus stop by the school before entering the teaching building. In simple terms, it was a scene where he posed like a model under the bus stop sign—a few seconds of footage, at most five seconds. The difficulty of shooting this scene was close to zero, ensuring that the production team could achieve an auspicious start.
Renly made his way to the bus stop by the street, ready for the shoot. Behind him, the crew members were organizing the extras, who needed to depict the bustling scene of students heading to school in the morning. On the other side, Tony was coordinating with the camera and lighting teams, discussing matters related to lighting and color.
Out of habit, Renly lifted his head to search for the presence of the production assistants or the assistant director. They should have come over to communicate with him at this point, further explaining the shooting trajectory, camera angles, and scene details. It was crucial to ensure that actors walked in the right direction during performances, even if they were filmed from behind. While they didn't need to focus their gaze, actors still needed a general understanding of the camera's orientation; otherwise, their performance could easily lose focus.
The same actor could deliver the same performance, yet appear completely different under the lenses of different directors. Some directors excelled at capturing performance details, while, for some, changes in eye contact, expressions, and body language tended to blur under their direction.
The importance of pre-shoot communication became increasingly evident. In the few previous projects, even with different directors in "The Pacific", this collaborative mode was continued.
However, at this moment, Renly looked left and right but couldn't spot anyone. He stood alone by the bus stop sign, feeling like a lost lamb with no one paying attention to him.
Turning back, Renly scanned the crowd for the figures of Roy and Nathan. He threw a puzzled look as they hurried over, but before they could get close, Tony's voice echoed, "Everyone is ready. The script supervisor is starting the countdown."
Tony seemed to sense Renly's confusion and walked over, raising his voice to say, "Let's shoot a scene first, see how it goes." He nodded in agreement and swiftly moved toward the monitor's position.
"Renly?" Roy had already run over and called out to him. Renly waved his hand, signaling that everything was fine, and then his thoughts gradually settled.
It was apparent that he still lacked sufficient experience. Different directors had different styles and interpretations when it came to camera angles, performance, and the overall structure of a scene. He hadn't collaborated with enough directors, and their styles weren't distinct enough. Suddenly, he found himself in conflict with his past habits and became uncomfortable.
Artists with a free and unrestrained style, like Tony, would often fine-tune as they shot, and this was also a style in its own right.
However, this method came with significant uncertainty. If the actor couldn't find their rhythm, or if the director struggled to find inspiration, shooting would have to be repeated continuously. Film stock consumption was a considerable cost, perhaps manageable for large production crews, but it could be an unimaginable burden for independent small teams.
Yet, Renly wasn't the one in charge of budgeting, so he took a deep breath and prepared to immerse himself in the shooting.
Accompanied by the crisp and resonant call of the script supervisor, Tony firmly declared, "Action!" All the hustle and bustle around quieted down, and every aspect of the film crew fell into place.
Students played around happily on the lawn in front of the school gate, chatting carefreely. Despite having arrived at school, they hesitated to enter. It wasn't until the jarring school bell rang for class that the crowd surged toward the teaching building. In the blink of an eye, the playground became empty, with only a small group of students who seemed like the lingering tail, nervously scuttling into the building as if they hadn't disappeared in time.
Looking around, the entire playground instantly grew desolate, with only a solitary figure lingering by the street.
He was a man dressed in a conservative suit – the jacket was ash-gray, the trousers navy-blue, the shirt white, and the tie a disjointed patchwork in red. His attire resembled a haphazard collection of mismatched pieces. He carried a well-worn, black leather briefcase on his left shoulder, and the leather's markings revealed years of use.
Leaning against the metal pole of the bus stop sign, he often took a half step back with his left leg. Lowering his head, he retrieved some cigarette leaves and tobacco from his briefcase, then began to roll a cigarette with utmost concentration. His bowed face displayed boundless focus. An engine's roar from the street momentarily caught his attention, and a slight tension and disarray flashed across his face. However, he quickly averted his gaze, before any ripples could form. He resumed the task of rolling his cigarette with undivided attention.
His handsome face bore a faint stubble, and his hair was combed into a classic parted-back style, showcasing every feature. His finely arched eyebrows remained tranquil and indifferent, revealing minimal expression. The focused light shone through his deep-set eyes and gently filtered down through his sparse eyelashes. The relaxed corners of his mouth outlined a touch of detachment and indifference, akin to the morning mist on a lake, silent and ethereal, leaving one irresistibly curious.
By now, the school bell had ceased ringing, and the tail end of students at the school building's entrance had already disappeared inside. The entire playground fell into silence, and apart from the man, no other figure was in sight. Even the noisy commotion had dissipated like smoke, leaving behind a sudden and forlorn tranquility.
This tranquil serenity descended on the man like wisps of light smoke. He appeared slender and frail, his calm face displaying minimal emotion. His long fingers deftly rolled the cigarette leaves, and his introverted silence appeared utterly ordinary. It seemed as if he had no presence, even while standing on this open ground. Yet, there was a vague sense of allure emanating from his entire being, an indescribable and elusive charm that defied words.
The cigarette was rolled, and the man placed it between his lips, but he didn't light it. He just stood there quietly, allowing the faint scent of the unlit cigarette to linger beneath his nose. There were no unnecessary movements, no extra expressions. It was impossible to discern whether he was feeling sadness, pain, oppression, anticipation, happiness, or indifference. In fact, it seemed as though there were no emotions at all. He just stood there, plain and simple, as if he were transparent.
Yet, this seemingly ordinary figure held an indescribable charm, an untold story hidden between his distinct brows. It was indefinable and inscrutable, swirling gently under the cool light, tempting one to peer into those eyes, trying to find an entrance within the pupils.
Then, the man gently bit the cigarette's end, turned around, and walked directly toward the teaching building. Without lighting the cigarette, without discarding it; without springtime sorrow, without emotional turbulence; without a single line of dialogue, without any superfluous movements. Just like that, he stood still for a mere five seconds, turned, and left.
His slightly straightened shoulders, his spirited posture, but somehow lacking a breath, he didn't truly manage to hold his head high. His long and brisk steps appeared nimble yet somewhat fragile. Light and shadows rapidly flowed between his profile, shoulder line, and forearms, tracing a fleeting sense of grace but nothing more, dissipating in an instant.
"Cut!"
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