#they introduced me to the tech side of theater which i never thought i’d get into but here i am. they teach me silly facts and words in asl.

[47pictures]

“All-Star”

Link to original r/nosleep post:

https://www.reddit.com/r/nosleep/comments/mv9j9a/for_my_blog_i_toured_a_movie_studio_to_find_the/

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I finally made it to Hollywood… at least, I suppose that’s what I’d say if I were trying to make it big. That wasn’t exactly the case, though. On the contrary, my old hometown friend was the one who I’d say ‘made it big,' and she was the only reason I managed to get there. No way in hell I could just stroll through these Hollywood gates without some sort of reputation associated with my name.

I’m currently pursuing a degree in journalism, and right now I’ve got a pretty successful status as a blogger, and hopefully podcaster in the near future. My topics typically cover things involving entertainment, specifically movies, television, some celebrity gossip here-and-there, the ins and outs of the film and occasionally music industry, nerd topics about comic books or comic book movies, and I could go on. Essentially, all the things you’d expect from an entertainment blogger.

I don’t have a secret or special tip for how I grew a mass following. It just sort of happened. I did it since I was in high school - sophomore year, to be exact, and it started mainly as a hobby. Most people are surprised to hear that I was such a good writer and articulate for my age when they look back on the articles I’d put up during that time, speaking on topics such as the ‘downfall of blockbuster films,’ and the ‘toxicity of media's body standards on the youth.’ Truthfully, I didn’t know all of what I was saying half the time. Writing was sort of just my natural gift that I honed to where I could essentially bullshit anything well enough to make a great story. However, being ethical always remained my moral code.

The topic I was covering now involved my own personal ‘investigation’ of a famous movie studio known as Gemini Films. They’ve put out several flicks now that have garnered what most would consider moderate success (they're no Warner Bros. or Paramount, that's for sure). They deal mostly in the thriller/horror genre, sort of like Blumhouse. I’m a bit more in the sci-fi, comedy realm when it comes to my tastes, but really, I’m a bit of a pussy when it comes to scary stuff.

So why am I 'investigating' them? Well, as it turns out, it's their amazing use of special effects. Yep, that’s it. Special effects, that thing we fell for as children we called ‘movie magic,' and growing up learned that some of it were all the crafty work of well-put CGI. Though that’s usually the case, this time, something about Gemini Films seemed different. They’ve always been praised for their ‘hyperrealistic’ visual effects and pulling off stunts that would otherwise seem impossible. I was watching one of their action/horror films titled Last Thorn, and in a particular scene, a character’s on-screen death is, well, very lightly put, gruesome. I’ve seen my share of on-screen gore and played plenty of Mortal Kombat growing up, but I gotta say, I found the scene hard to watch. To clarify, it involved a character literally exploding before the camera, and from the way it was shot and the lack of cuts and edits typically required to create the illusion of a scene, it seemed quite real. A little too real…

They’ve done other things aside from their special effects department that some people on internet discussion forums found a bit too impressive. Take the actors, for instance. In their dramatic scenes, especially the horror flicks, I’m almost always convinced that the actors are actually going to die on screen. I’m surprised all of them haven’t been given Oscars yet, ‘cause goddamn, you’d think the director was holding them at gunpoint. We all saw just how amazing the acting was in films like Hereditary and The Babadook were, but I gotta say, after watching these films, they make those two look like child’s play (no pun intended to the Chucky series). I was so impressed with the actors that I had to look them up and see what other work they’d done, but from what I did find, their resumes didn’t seem that much greater than the work they’d done for GF. It was almost as if that was the peak of their careers unless they decided to further their contracts to star in any more of their movies. Anything else they did pale in comparison that showcased their acting chops.

____________________________________________________________________________________________________________

Jamie Douglas.

It had somewhat of household name potential, I thought. She was the next rising star. She’d just won a Golden Globe for her leading role in a TV series I’m sure no one had high hopes for in the beginning, and her name was now attached to an Academy Award-winning film for Best Original Screenplay, all at the age of 22. Her acting was stellar, always had been even growing up back in high school when we did theater together. I was never for the acting side of things; I always preferred the technical realm and behind-the-scenes work. She, however, had the ‘it’ factor. I never once doubted that she’d be famous. It was destined for her.

The taxi driver dropped me off in front of a luxurious one-story home in the Beverly Hills neighborhood, surrounded by other similar houses with a property value larger than what I’d probably make in my lifetime if I was being honest. From the outside, her home reminded me of that gilded, golden age of Hollywood back in the 60s, with a slanted roof and art deco-styled exaggerated features. It was nice and simple. But that’s how Jamie was. Nice and simple.

I could see her peeking through the curtains of her window before she came running out the door to meet me in the front yard. That big beautiful smile and those joyous eyes came rushing at me with open arms.

“Christian!” she screamed my name with excitement, as she gave me a big, suffocating hug.

I hugged her back with my free arm, as my other one was still carrying my trolley bag and she had that one pinned in her grip.

“I’m so glad you made it,” she exclaimed.

“Yeah, I made it to Hollywood, right?” I dryly humored.

Jamie giggled as she began to pull back from her hug and put both her hands on my shoulders.

“Yes we did,” she said with a big smile, flashing her perfectly straight, white teeth. “We sure did.”

She led me inside the house and gave me a tour. Compared to the outside, the inside was the complete opposite in regards to the decorative era. Whereas the exterior was ‘groovy’, the inside was a bit more with the times. Wide-open spaces, tan or beige-colored furniture and walls, a wide sliding door for the backyard where you can see the pool. Jamie recently moved into the house, so I figured there wouldn’t be a lot of things to fill it up with just yet.

“Someone said Bette Davis used to live in this house, which I knew was bullshit, otherwise the value on this home woulda been way outta my league,” Jamie commented.

I chuckled. “Oh, I think you’re well on your way, trust me,” I reassured.

I was going to be staying with her for a week while I did my journaling/blogging. We did tons of catching up. She gave me all the inside scoop of what goes on in Hollywood - or ‘Hollyweird’ as I liked to call it - and even some of her other famous neighbors you might recognize living double lives on the down-low. She said she’d been to a couple of big mansion parties as well, where you’ll see all sorts of celebs from different categories of entertainment. Actors, athletes, musicians, models, influencers, you name it. But Jamie insists that she doesn’t attend those very often, if hardly at all. She prefers to be a homebody when she’s not seeking work through her agent, and her extraversion mostly comes to play when it involves networking.

____________________________________________________________________________________________________________

The rest of the night we stayed up watching TV and YouTube videos. One that fascinated both of us was a video explaining how scientists managed to find a way to make a perfectly cooked steak from a cow, but without actually harming or slaughtering it. Instead, they extracted a small sample of the cow’s cells and took it to a lab where the cells would essentially grow into muscle for it to be cooked later.

“I’d consider that over going vegan,” Jamie said.

But I grimaced at the thought. “I don’t know, it just doesn’t seem right,” I remarked.

"What, are you vegan?"

"No, not that. Just the thought of cloning animals, ya know?"

“I mean, it’s not like they’re killing the cow or anything. They said it’s perfectly unharmed.”

“I know, but still…”

____________________________________________________________________________________________________________

The next morning was day one for me. Jamie had the right connections to get me an on-set tour of the studio lots associated with Gemini Films. I was greeted and led by the third assistant director (or AD as they’re commonly referred to).

“Hi, I’m Tiffany, nice to meet you,” she said, with a rather forced smile and handshake.

She carried a clipboard in her other arm, as well as a hand-held radio clipped to the pocket of her jeans, and I saw that she also had an earpiece nestled in her right ear. I could tell she was about her business and probably didn’t have time to be overly nice or talk too much.

I got a sneak peek of their most current production under the production title *"*Cold Silence", which required me to sign an NDA beforehand, of course. That wasn't actually their final name for the movie, but it's a common thing for them to do when shooting a film when either they haven't decided on a name yet or to keep the nature of the project a secret. It sort of took me back to my theater tech days with all the set designs and props lying around, except these were much more detailed and intricate thanks to their higher budget than what my high school had at the time. Here, there was limitless potential. Tiffany also introduced me to the other ADs, PAs, boom operators, cameramen, make-up artists, and then last but certainly not least, the director.

“Jeffrey?” Tiffany called to the man sitting in the director’s chair. The man turned to face her and then me. “This is Christian Watkins. He’s the man we’re giving a behind-the-scenes scoop for his… blog?” She looked to me for confirmation, to which I nodded. “Yeah, for his blog.”

The man in the big chair stood up with a cool smile and classy charm and extended his hand for me to shake.

“Christian, nice to meet you,” the man spoke in a tenor pitch. “Jeffrey Bachmann,” he introduced himself.

I didn’t take too much time last night trying to read up on his bio, but from what I could tell at first glance I knew that he was about in his mid to late fifties, as his hair was greying and skin was starting to wrinkle, and I could see that he had a surprisingly calm and laid-back demeanor. Surprising to me, at least. I always thought directing was a high-paced, chaotic mess that never ceased to present a myriad of complications onset that’d make any man want to pull their hair out. But Jeffrey seemed calm, collected, and very personable.

“Hi, thank you for having me,” I replied. “Seriously, this is like a really cool opportunity for me and my blog.”

“Hey man, it’s my pleasure,” Jeffrey said. “I heard you got a big following behind your name. Props to you. I respect the work ethic, especially giving your readers what they really want to see, ya know?”

I shrugged modestly. “Well thank you, but this time was mostly in my own interest to seek out this idea for my current blog,” I said.

“Ah, an interest in GF, huh?” Jeffrey replied. “Well, what would you like to know? We’ve got nothing but time today. In fact, we’re just getting ready to shoot the mangle scene for today and then we’ll wrap it up before we review the dailies.”

“Mangle scene?”

“Oh yeah, if you’ve got a weak stomach or aren’t into gore you don’t have to watch.”

At least he gave me discretion. “Hmm, I think I’ll tough this one out,” I said. “For the blog.”

Jeffrey gave me a sincere but slightly unsettling grin. “That’s what I’m talkin’ ‘bout.”

He was a nice guy so far, but you know how you just meet certain people that for whatever reason, out of their control, their aura seems off? Maybe it was my preconceived notion and warranted cynicism I had of people working in Hollywood. Just a bunch of sharks in a pool with hungry eyes for desperate young talents eager to take a dive in the spotlight. But as I’d imagine with any field, there had to be a decent share of lambs among the many wolves.

Suddenly, one of the makeup artists scampered over to us, their attention directly at Jeffrey.

“Hey,” they said to him with a noticeably fake inflection.

“Hey, what's up?” Jeffrey returned.

“Savannah? She’s losing it back there. Said she wants to talk to you and only you.”

Jeffrey nodded. “Don’t worry, I got it,” he said, as he patted his hand on the MUAs shoulder. He then gave me an apologetic look. “Sorry, Christian, duty calls, but hey, Tiffany?” he looked to the stern AD. “Make sure he gets a front-row view for the martini shot.”

“Yes sir,” Tiffany replied.

Jeffrey and the MUA stepped off to handle whatever business needed handling regarding one of the actresses backstage in the dressing room.

“Martini shot?” I asked.

“Last shot for the day,” Tiffany explained. “For me, that’s a term I like to take literally.”

She seemed so serious all this time that I found the joke almost funny.

____________________________________________________________________________________________________________

There was now quiet on the set. Shooting was about to start shortly. At this point in the movie, the main character has a stand-off that turns into a big fight scene with the main bad guy at a warehouse factory building. At first, there’s a gunfight, then eventually they both run out of ammo and it comes down to a fistfight before finally having a standstill on top of a rail just over a giant industrial shredder.

Right now, the actor playing the bad guy, Will, is hanging on for his life over the rail above the shredder, while Thomas, the main good guy, is standing over him victoriously. My question was, is the shredder real? ‘Cause it sure as hell looks like it. It wasn’t turned on yet, but just from a glance it seemed legit enough that if I dropped something as sturdy as a microwave in there, it’d come out jelly on the other end.

For the blog, I told myself. For the blog…

Suddenly, my suspicions were confirmed once Jeffrey called to have the shredder turned on. The machine roared to life, the inverting sharp metal gears rotating past each other being a black hole eating everything that passes through it with no escape. Holy shit. It was actually fucking real.

Jeffrey gave the nod to the 1st AD, and the AD returned the same.

“Action!” the AD called.

Based on what Jeffrey showed me from the script, Thomas is supposed to stomp on Will’s hand that’s gripping onto the edge of the rail, causing him to fall to his death into the shredder. The camera was now rolling, yet, I didn’t see Thomas do the deed. Was he pausing for dramatic effect? Was he acting for the camera? I wasn’t quite sure why he was hesitating.

I peaked over to notice that Jeffrey, the once calm and collected man I met backstage earlier, was now beginning to seem noticeably impatient and about to snap at any moment. There was now that dark edge I noticed about him from before but couldn’t quite put a finger on that I could see now coming to light.

Hesitation filled Thomas’ veins, about to raise his foot, then not, dragging on the scene longer than intended. From this distance, I tried to see Will’s own expression, and I regret ever doing so. Surely he was acting, but I’ll be damned, it was too good. Whatever fear he portrayed transmuted itself into me now. It was the kind of fear that I didn’t think could be replicated on command. Jeffrey stood up from his seat, but just before he could say anything or call ‘cut’, Thomas stomped his foot down on Will’s hand, and we all watched as his fingers slip from the railing. Will sent out a bloodcurdling scream as he plummeted to his ‘death’. What followed will haunt me forever.

Do you know what it sounds like to have a person’s body mangled to death? Have you bitten into the bone of any sort of meat? Heard and felt the crunch? Or maybe even the crunch of celery? I myself have never broken a single bone in my body, but imagining what it might sound like other than what I’d heard in movies or video games all seemed elementary now. At first, I had to look away, but what forced me out of my seat to leave was Will’s horrifying screams. He’d fallen feet first into the shredder, so his lower body had to suffer first before reaching his upper body and finally silencing him at the head.

I ran to find the nearest trashcan and hurled. I guess I really didn’t have the stomach for gore, at least, not to this degree. Will’s screams kept looping in my head. It was a new primal sound that evoked a dread within me that I wish I never discovered. The sound of torment. One thing was for sure, Will was one fucking hell of an actor - if this was acting. But the shredder…

It seemed so real. And there was no greenscreen besides the ones to be used for the background later in post-production. I saw him fall right into the damn thing. With my own eyes. In living color. There were no edits, no crazy tricks, no lighting effects. There couldn’t be. It just wasn’t possible.

____________________________________________________________________________________________________________

I was sitting down trying to recuperate, as everyone else around me was wrapping up set for the day. Tiffany came over and handed me a bottle of water.

“Thanks,” I said, taking it.

“You feelin’ better?” she asked.

“Hmm,” I answered with a scoff, raising both my eyebrows and taking a sip from the bottle.

“I’m surprised you stuck around if you had such a weak stomach. I mean, he at least warned you.”

“I usually don’t. But that?” I shook my head. “How do you guys do it? It looked so real.”

“I’m just pulling your leg. I almost vomited too my first time. Nothing to be embarrassed about.”

If it was a shame to flinch at something so vile, I don’t wanna know what goes on in Jeffrey’s mind to even come up with such a scene. Speaking of which, I still didn’t get a one-on-one interview with him as I’d hoped. All I had was the end result of his ‘movie magic’, but not how he did it. At this point, I'm not sure I really wanna know.

I went to go get my belongings, which were left in one of the dressing rooms, and was stopped by the sound sniffling from the one a couple doors ahead of mine. I looked on the door to read whose room it belonged to. It read: SAVANNAH YOUNG. She was one of the lead actresses in the movie, or rather I should say the only actress in the whole film. With the makeup artist and Jeffrey thing that happened earlier, it was evident to me that something sour had gone on behind the scenes I didn’t know about.

The door was cracked open and I couldn’t see her face entirely from my view, but I knew she was sobbing. She looked to be sitting in front of her mirror. I was about to just ignore it and go on about my business.

I lightly knocked on the door. “You okay in there?” I asked.

She stopped and I could hear her get up and approach the door. She pulled it back just enough to where I could see her whole face. She was beautiful, just like Jamie, even if she had been crying.

“Yeah, I’m fine,” Savannah said. “Thank you.”

There was a brief awkward moment of silence between us. Clearly, she wasn’t fine, but I didn’t wish to pry any further than that.

“Are you one of the new PAs?” she asked. I arched a brow. “Production assistant?” she clarified.

“Oh, no, I’m just a visitor,” I assured. “Writing for my blog. I was supposed to be writing about behind-the-scenes things and how it all works around here, but I bitched out from the ‘mangling scene’.”

Savannah gave a short nod. “I see,” she said. “Well… I don’t blame you.”

I wasn’t sure if it was the way she said it or just from the state that I was in, but her words gave me chills.

“I should get going,” I told her. “Nice meeting you.”

“Likewise,” she replied, and then shut the door.

I got my stuff from the dressing room and got ready to head out. I wonder what could’ve made Savannah so down to where the director had to get involved and set her straight. Jeffrey seemed pleasant to work with at first glance, but who knows, maybe he had a mean streak to him after all, especially the way he looked during the shooting of the scene. God, I just wanted to forget about it. I can’t unhear the sounds. The bones crunching, the blood splattering, and the screaming. The fucking screaming…

____________________________________________________________________________________________________________

As I was leaving the studio lot, I noticed the cleaning crew of two men dump a large amount of black bags in the dumpster. From the way they swung the bags over into the bin, the shit didn’t seem light. The bags were in several different sizes, some small, some big, some disproportionate. I stood there and watched as the two men finished disposing of the junk and walked away to go about their other duties.

Regular, common sense me would’ve just picked up the phone, called Jamie to let her know I’m ready to get picked up, and go about my day. But the nosy blogger me kept itching…

I made sure the coast was clear and made my way over to the bin. I can’t believe I was actually dumpster diving, and for what? What did I really expect to find? In my head, I knew the answer, but was avoiding it, either out of how ridiculous it may sound or, God forbid, I was right.

The trash wasn’t stacked high enough from the bottom for me to simply reach, so I had to literally get in there myself. I climbed over on the other end, raised the lid, and jumped down on the piles of plastic bags, holding the lid up with my arm and my breath so I didn’t get a huge whiff of the smell. Though, if I did need to puke again, I supposed this would be the place to do it.

I immediately noticed the bags the men threw away, but in order for me to check what was inside, I’d have to crouch down and let the lid close on me. Fine. That’s what the flashlight on my phone was for. Surrounded in darkness and garbage now, I turned the flash on, illuminating the four dirty walls around me and I pulled back one of the bags. I felt around to try and see what sort of contents might be inside. Mush. It felt all mushy with chunks of solid and a little bit of liquid.

This was stupid, I thought. I realized how stupid I probably looked right then and there, sitting in a bin full of filth looking for clues like some sort of private detective. My followers have no idea how far I’d go, but this was ridiculous. Oh well, I’m too deep in it now, no pun intended.

I held my phone in my mouth as I used my hands to rip open the plastic. My heart began pounding as I slowly pried the bag open. Once I got a peek inside, shame and embarrassment came over me.

Food.

I should’ve just called Jamie to come get me. Had I really become that desperate? I threw the bag over and out of my way. Then I noticed the bag underneath had trickles of fluid. Curious, I shined the light down on it. They were red trickles. Considering how I’d just overreacted only to find a bag full of thrown out lunch, I wasn’t about to get all up in arms about finding red drops behind a Hollywood studio lot. I didn’t know the full recipe for fake blood, but if I recall correctly, Alfred Hitchcock used chocolate when they filmed the shower scene from Psycho.

I tried to follow the small trail and see if it led to another bag. I slowly pointed the light further up and it led me to the bag just behind the one I tossed to the side. Looks like it had a small bust that caused it to leak. When I pulled this one over, a very noticeable smell filled my nostrils and erased any other scent of the trash that surrounded me. It was a metallic, rusty sort of odor, like copper from a penny. However, that smell also belonged to something else…

I ripped open the bag, and with the shine of my light beaming down, I was welcomed to a bright crimson sight of mashed blood and guts. It had to be fake, I thought. It had to… but the way I recoiled from the putrid metallic fresh scent of carnage, my primal instincts told me that wasn’t the case. I innately knew that it was real. I was staring at Will’s mangled body.

Frozen from fear, I sat there for who-knows-how-long. What the fuck was I supposed to do? I’d call the cops first, of course, but they would need evidence, and even then they’d probably dismiss me after I told them I dove into the dumpster of a movie set where fake blood is a common prop. I’d tell Jamie the same, but she’d look at me crazy, too.

I unlocked my phone and started snapping pictures. As much as I could. I even opened some other bags and did the same. I tried to snap every bit of remains that was left of Will and saved them into my phone. It felt like a sick test to see how long I could hold my breath so I wouldn’t gag, and I think I broke a new record that day.

I snapped probably about 47 pictures on my phone before I finally shot up and threw open the bin. The wave of fresh air hit me like a truck, and enjoyed it for only a brief second before turning to see Jeffrey, Tiffany, and the other AD standing by his side. My soul left my body right then and there.

“Christian?” Jeffrey said, sounding concerned.

Fucking say something, I told myself. I did my best not to stutter and look stupid.

“Hey, Jeff,” I said, raising the inflection of my voice, probably sounding dumb.

“Going for a swim there?” Jeffrey joked.

I fake laughed, then put on my best acting skills. “I cannot for the life of me find my ring.”

“Your ring?”

“Yeah, my mom’s ring?”

Then, with the slick subtle motion, I hid my hands to where they couldn’t see them behind the walls of the bin, and with careful coordination used my fingers on my right hand to pull the ring I already had on and flicked it down onto the trash below. I shuffled my feet over the bags I stood on to make noise so they wouldn’t hear the ring drop. Please God, don’t let the ring hit the hard bottom floor or one of the rusty walls, I thought. To my relief, it didn’t.

“Oh man, I’m sorry, Christian, I haven’t seen it,” Jeffrey said, as he looked at the other two as they also shook their heads. “But we can definitely look around again and let you know if we find anything.”

“Uh, yeah, sure,” I said, trying not to make my voice tremble with anxiety.

“Now, c’mon, let’s get you outta there,” Jeffrey said, waving his hand over.

I nodded and shot a quick timid smile. I climbed out of the bin and faced the three before me, wiping myself down.

“Hands a little messy there,” Jeffrey said.

Anxiety raced through me again, but adrenaline had my back to make sure I didn’t fuck up by saying anything dumb.

“Oh, the fake blood?” I chortled. “Yeah, you guys lots of that shit in there. Smells like a chocolate factory.”

Jeffrey fell for it, and laughed. Good. But he could just as easily be playing me right now.

“Given how you ran off earlier back there I’m surprised you can stand to look at it, better yet, touch it,” he remarked.

“I’m sorry about that,” I stammered but stayed on track. “It’s just… I now see for myself, no one does it like GF.”

“Haha, you don’t have to flatter me to get back my respect. Don’t sweat it. I totally understand.”

Is that so? I thought.

��You could use that martini shot right about now, huh?” Tiffany joked.

Definitely not with her any time soon. Or any of them, for that matter.

“Well we’re just heading out for the day, you got a ride?” said Jeffrey.

“Yeah, I should probably call Jamie now and let her know I’m done,” I replied.

“It’s no problem, man, I can give you a lift. I can drop you off wherever you need me to.”

“No, it’s fine.”

“Seriously, I insist-”

“Jamie and I got a spa appointment to catch in a bit. Otherwise I appreciate the offer.”

Jeffrey had a brief look in his eyes, a glint of what I could only compare to a wolf’s gaze hiding behind that sheep’s clothing he carried himself around as, and then smiled and nodded.

“Okay, Christian,” he said. “Once again, nice to meet you and I hoped you enjoyed the tour, and hopefully make some good content for your blog.”

“Absolutely,” I said. “Thank you so much again. Seriously, I can’t thank you enough.”

“It’s nothing, Chris,” Jeffrey said, throwing me off a bit. “Can I call you, Chris?’

I shrugged. “Sure. I mean, I called you Jeff by accident,” I said.

“It’s fine. Chris and Jeff it is.”

I needed to get away from here. Now and as fast as possible. But I still needed to do one more thing.

“Any chance I can wash these off inside?” I said, raising my bloodied hands.

“Oh of course,” Jeff said.

“I can lead him back,” Tiffany said, ready to go with, but Jeffrey stopped her.

“Ah, he knows his way in, right?” Jeff looked to me for reassurance.

“Yeah,” I answered confidently.

“Good, well hopefully I’ll see you around, Chris, and you enjoy the rest of your day.”

“Thank you, Jeff. And you all do the same.”

As I walked past them and towards the studio lot, I couldn’t help but wonder if I was being set up. Why hadn’t he let Tiffany escort me back inside? I’d think that would be customary for them to do for visitors entering and exiting the building. But I felt that they were watching me from behind, and with every step, I grew more and more anxious.

____________________________________________________________________________________________________________

I’d made it inside and the lot was now nearly empty and quieter. I didn’t see a single person in sight, and only a few lights remained on, making it mostly dark. I hurried the fuck up and did what I came to do, as I didn’t wanna be here any longer and didn’t feel safe.

Down the hall where the dressing rooms were, I rushed over to Savannah’s door, and saw that it was closed. I tried opening it only to see it was locked. Looking down, there was no light shining through the cracks either, meaning there was no one inside. She wasn’t there. Shit.

I washed my hands in the bathroom, scrubbing the dried blood off as thoroughly as possible, getting under nails and all, cringing at the thought of it being Will’s. Suddenly, I heard a noise from outside the hall leading to the bathroom. Petrified, my heart sank into my chest, and I froze. I shut the water off, and carefully approached the door. I listened for any other sounds as I placed my ear closer. After a few moments, I heard the noise again, but then realized that it seemed to be coming from one of the dressing rooms just outside in the hall.

Since I carry a notebook around most of the time for jotting down notes, I certainly always carry a pen. What most people don’t know is that I carry a military tactical pen for a variety of uses, and in times like these, it can be used as a subtle but effective weapon. I switched the tip from an ink ball to a small slick blade.

I opened the bathroom door and crept through the hall over to the dressing room door that made the noise, holding the pen underneath the breast pocket of my sweater. On the outside of the door, it read, “WILL BANKS.”

Confused, I wasn’t sure what to make of it. Common sense me once again kept barking in my brain telling me to GTFO, but I had to be sure. I gave three shy knocks and waited. There was definitely someone in there because whatever noise I thought I heard from behind came to an utter halt. I could hear faint whispers of someone’s voice, and then another. There was more than one. My hand trembled as it tightly gripped the pen underneath with sweat as I heard whoever it was on the other end of the door approach.

It swung open, and there stood Will Banks, the man whose blood was just on my hands moments ago, alive and well, in the flesh. It couldn’t be, I thought to myself.

“Can I help you?” he said.

I just stood there, baffled, without answering. Behind him, I saw Savannah, who instantly recognized me and came over.

“Hi,” she said. “I thought everyone left.” She looked to Will. “He was visiting the set today for his vlog, or I’m sorry, blog.”

Will nodded, understanding now. “Oh. Sorry, I didn’t get to meet you. Will Banks,” he said, pointing at his name on the door. “As you can see.” Savannah chuckled, and Will extended his hand for me to shake.

“Christian, or Chris,” I said, releasing the pen from inside my sweater and reaching my own hand out to take his. "Whichever you please."

He had a firm shake, and it felt uncanny considering what I’d just witnessed. I was touching him, feeling his skin and bone underneath, the warmth of his body temperature through the flesh. He was real. He was alive and breathing. That couldn’t be faked. That couldn’t be a visual effect. This was real. After we let go, suddenly my hand went cold. Everything about this seemed off and downright strange.

“Did you stick around for the shoot?” Will asked.

“I did, as a matter of fact.”

“Well, what’d you think?”

I wanted to say so many things right then and there, he had no idea.

“Um... y’all are some damn good actors,” I said.

Will laughed a bit, accepting my sham form of flattery, but Savannah, not so much. She gave one of those forced gestures as to not make it feel awkward, though, I noticed it right away.

“How do you do it?” I asked.

“I would give you some artistic bullshit answer like ‘study your craft’ or ‘years of training,' things like that, but honestly… it just kinda clicks, ya know?”

I fake chuckled. “No, I don’t. It looked kinda real from my end. Too real, I might add. Care to go into detail how you guys pulled it off?”

“Well, uh-”

Savannah interrupted. “Wait, you know what Jeffrey would say,” she whispered to him.

“I know, but it’s for his blog,” Will argued.

“But still.”

“I mean, Jeffrey’s not here, right?” I chimed in.

They both looked at me, then at each other. There seemed to be some sort of nonverbal understanding between them, and Will looked back at me.

“All right, for the sake of your blog, I’ll give you what I can to the best of my wording, that sound good?” Will proposed.

I took the pen back out from inside, switching it to the ink ball with a short click, and whipped out my small notebook. “Hit me,” I said.

“Get ready for this one. Basically, we’ve been using a new thing in the biz lately sort of like mocap but it’s not exactly. It’s also kinda like hologram sort of tech?”

“Really?” I said, eyes widened with interest as I wrote words down.

“Yep. That’s how we did it. What you saw, was as real as the hologram thingamajig allowed you to.”

“Hmm.”

“The shredder, too.”

“What?”

“The shredder. That was a hologram also.”

“Really? Okay…”

I finished writing on my notepad then turned it so that Will could read it.

BITE ME, I wrote with a big circle around it.

He laughed. Savannah did, too, but, again, in a strange nervous and restrained demeanor.

“That’s a nice story,” I said. “So if you’re ready to quit bullshitting with me, and tell the truth, I’m ready,” I spoke in a playful yet no-nonsense tone. “How’d you do it?”

“You’re good, man,” Will said with a smile, pointing his finger at me. “Like a true journalist.”

Any other day I’d be pleased to hear that, but I was serious. I needed to know, so much that I’d forgotten how long I’d actually been here. I told myself I was gonna leave as soon as I could, but now, for some reason after talking with Will and seeing how personable and genuine he came off, he put me a bit at ease. Maybe I was blowing this out of proportion. But then the screams echoed in my head again, and the smell...

“You’re not gonna tell me, are you?” I said.

“Look, I wish I could, honestly, but if I did, Jeffrey may not be too happy with either of us,” Will responded sincerely. That much was true, I could tell.

“All right, I think I tortured you enough,” I said, then immediately regretted my choice of words.

“No worries, man. Nice meetin’ ya. Good luck with the blog.”

“Thanks.”

I looked at Savannah one last time, and she looked back with a serious and almost scary gaze as though she needed to tell me something very bad. That’s who I came back for anyways. But that opportunity was a lost cause now, as I left with nothing and still no understanding of how Gemini Films did their visual effects? And I lost my mother’s ring. Fuck, I didn’t have time to go get it right now. I didn’t wanna risk being seen again. Hopefully, Jeffrey keeps his word and they somehow manage to give it back. That being said, I'd be fine with not having to see him ever again.

Whose blood was that? Whose body was that in the dumpster? Was it real? Was it actually just that well made to where the average person could be fooled into thinking it was actual flesh? Who’d go through the trouble of all that?

The screams of losing your life inch by inch, the sounds that would haunt me forever. And the smell of what was inside that bag. That instinctual gut feeling… how was it not real?

#writing #story #horror #nosleep #horror stories

[rulesofthebeneath]

how bout a dance: part 11

<AN> WELL HELLO THERE FRIENDS!!! Guess what week it is? IT’S SHOW WEEK(S)! Hope y’all enjoy this chapter, it’s long (as hell) but I had a ton of fun writing it. Gonna warn again for some suggestive content but we’re still firmly in the TV sitcom realm. [But I do think it’s entirely fair to mention that almost the entire beginning, as short as it may be, is a big sex mention, but that it’s a side plot development]. Anyways, credit as usual to @euphonyinestetica, tagging @pixelburied, @lilmissperfectlyimperfect, @ajaysbhandari, @itsbrindleybinch, @witchiegirl, @aidenzhous, @catlady0911, @ylevolenahs, @awkwardalbatros, @hufflepvnk, @ravenclawpokegirl25. Hope y’all enjoy, let me know if I need to edit the warnings. </AN>

The morning of opening night, Grace woke up to the smell of pancakes and the sound of laughter coming from the kitchen. Isra was nowhere to be found, which was strange because Grace almost always woke up with the cat asleep on her chest. She put on her contacts and tried to tame her bedhead, shoved her feet in some slippers, and slowly opened her bedroom door to step into the kitchen.

“Good morning, Grace!” came Mayleen’s chipper voice from the stove, where she stood in a long t-shirt making the pancakes Grace had smelled. Unable to locate the source of the laughing, Grace stepped into the kitchen suspiciously.

“Hey, Grace,” came another voice, and Grace whipped around to see Rosa sitting at the kitchen table, also in just a long t-shirt, her face completely red but a smile playing on her lips.

It took Grace a second to figure out what was going on, but then she realized.

“Oh my god!” she squealed, clapping a hand over her mouth. “I must be a really heavy sleeper.”

Rosa’s face got impossibly redder, but Mayleen just laughed. “You were pretty exhausted after your shift Sunday. I was a little surprised, but it was convenient.”

Grace let out another surprised laugh, then sat down at the table next to Rosa, who had Isra in her lap.

“You stole my roommate and my cat,” she grumbled playfully to Rosa, reaching over to rub Isra’s gray ears.

“Lo siento,” Rosa muttered. Grace turned back to Mayleen, still at the stove.

“Wow, so uh, guys, how did this happen?”

“Well, when a woman and another woman like each other very very much…” Mayleen started in a teasing tone, but was cut off by Grace and Rosa both yelling at her, the former throwing a balled-up napkin that Mayleen barely dodged.

“You know that’s not what I meant! I don’t need to know about that! Tell me about your date!”

“Well, we went out dancing last night. I thought I’d try to help Rosa de-stress after final dress, because I get how tough tech and dress weeks can be. We went out for dinner, then we went to a club not too far away from your theater, then we came here.”

“Where you and Rosa de-stressed,” Grace deadpanned, sending Rosa into a fit of embarrassed giggles.

“Exactly. Several times,” Mayleen quipped shamelessly.

“God,” Grace snorted. “Well, I’m glad to see you guys together.”

“We’re glad to be together,” Rosa mumbled, flustered. Mayleen turned around with a smile and walked over to kiss her. Grace rolled her eyes jokingly.

“Yeah, we had a good time last night so I think we’re just gonna see how this goes,” Mayleen said, pulling away from Rosa and moving to stand behind her, wrapping her arms around her from behind. “But I have a really good feeling about it.”

Rosa turned to look up at Mayleen with soft eyes, and Grace gave them a second before she obnoxiously cooed at them. Then she got up to turn on the tea kettle on the other side of the room to give them a little privacy and pulled her phone out of the waistband of her pajama pants. There was a new text from Ajay.

Ajay: You ready for opening night?

She thought for a second before texting him back.

Grace: yes? maybe? i’m a little nervous

Ajay: I get that. But you’re going to be amazing.

Grace: i bet you say that to all the people who star in your productions

Ajay: You got me there. It doesn’t mean it’s any less true.

Grace laughed a little, then tucked her phone back into her waistband. The water was done boiling, so she dumped some loose jasmine black tea into the infuser in her teapot and poured the water in, setting a timer for five minutes to let it steep. Her phone buzzed insistently at her hip, so she wiped her hands off and pulled it back out.

Ajay: It might go without saying, but I’m really looking forward to seeing you today.

Ajay: This evening.

Ajay: At 6.

Ajay: Which is call time.

Grace: i know when call is

Grace: if you were trying to be cute it didn’t work 😂

Ajay: Just making sure.

Grace: i’ll be there. and hey, try not to melt into a puddle of stress today

Ajay: Anything for you. See you tonight.

Grace stopped by the fridge to take a bowl of fruit and grabbed her teapot to take back to her room. Rosa and Mayleen were still being disgustingly cute and Grace didn’t want to interrupt. Once in her room, she poured herself a mug of tea and sat on her bed with her script, running through places that had been trouble spots during final dress. Thankfully there weren’t many, but Grace knew she couldn’t be too careful.

The morning faded into afternoon all too quickly, and after a shower, lunch courtesy of a microwave meal, some quick physical and vocal warm-ups and another anxious look at her script, it was 5pm. She knew she had to leave in about ten minutes in order to get to the theatre early (and early was on time), so she pulled on her socks, grabbed her theatre bag that was still packed from final dress, and walked out into the kitchen.

Mayleen and Rosa sprang apart from where they’d been on the couch. Grace just rolled her eyes with a smile. She crossed over to the kitchen to fill her water bottle.

“It’s almost time to go, Rosa,” she called in the direction of the couch. Rosa made her way back to Mayleen’s room (probably where she’d kept her stuff) and Grace dropped down onto the couch next to Mayleen.

“So,” Grace said, grinning widely.

“So.” Mayleen answered, matching her grin.

Grace shook her head slightly. “I’ve never seen you this smiley. It’s weird.”

Mayleen gave a noncommittal shrug, and Grace laughed.

“Oh, I’m coming to see your show next Friday,” Mayleen announced, clearly wanting to change the topic.

“Wow, okay! Stay after and Rosa and I’ll introduce you to everyone.”

“Awesome.”

The two chatted for a little longer before Rosa reemerged with her bag. Grace stood up and the pair put their shoes on at the door and Grace waited patiently outside while Rosa kissed Mayleen goodbye, then they walked down the street to the subway station together.

They rode for a few minutes in silence, then Rosa spoke up.

“You still sure that’s not weird?”

Grace giggled. “Yeah. But I would’ve appreciated a warning. I guess I’m just lucky Mayleen and I don’t share a wall.”

Rosa rolled her eyes, but Grace saw a genuine happiness in her expression.

“I’ve never seen Mayleen so cheerful in the mornings,” Grace said. “I’m really happy for you guys.”

Rosa ducked her head. “Thanks. If I’m being honest, I was only there for Isra.” Grace laughed.

The train ride and short walk to the theatre passed quickly, and the two walked through the stage door fifteen minutes early. They ran into Ajay just inside.

Grace gave him a teasing wink and tried to walk past, but he grabbed her hand and pulled her back towards him. Rosa kept walking, and Grace knew that she’d hear about it later. Nevertheless, she let Ajay pull her back.

“You need something?” she asked, eyebrows raised. He slowly backed her up against the wall and pressed his lips to her collarbone, her neck, her jaw, careful not to leave marks, then pulled away with an intense look on his face.

“Yeah. You.”

Grace’s heart jumped into her throat, and she pulled him forward to crash their lips together. His hands came up to her hips and he pushed her back harder against the wall. She ran a hand through his hair.

When he pulled away again, her lips stung from the pressure. Something akin to joy sparkled in his eyes, and he pulled her in one more time for a kiss that was softer, shorter, sweeter. He ran his fingers through her hair, making shivers run down her spine.

“God,” was all Grace could say, completely breathless. “That all you got?”

He scoffed. “Hardly. But you need to get in costume. We’ll meet in the music room at quarter til to warm-up and for a pep talk. Oh, and Grace?”

His eyes swept over her. She shivered again, but met his gaze. He reached over to tuck a piece of hair behind her ear. She barely noticed it, but he blushed just a little bit.

“There’s a lot more where that came from.”

He grinned at her—a bright, brilliant thing—then spun on his heel and left.

Grace took a moment to gather herself, to slow the desire that curled low in her stomach, to remember how to breathe again. He had her intoxicated by his presence, dizzying her with his touch until the only thing left in her head was a deep need for more.

He’d certainly come a long way from the awkward boy he was in high school.

She shook her head and tucked that away for later. She knew she needed to focus. Still, even though her mind stayed focused on the trouble spots she’d gone over that morning, her hand drifted up to stroke the places he’d kissed her, her thumb absently tracing her swollen lips.

She quickly got changed into the dress she wore at the top of Act One, an exact copy of the iconic burgundy dress but riddled with gunshots and bloodstains. One of the makeup artists came in to help her apply some blood streaks (made out of tape for easy removal) to her face. Grace took a little while to braid her hair flat against her head and to put her wig and hat on, then she was ready to go.

On her way down to the music room she stopped by Rosa’s dressing room. She shared it with the woman who played the governor, but she was finishing up her makeup when Grace arrived and vacated fairly quickly. Grace took her seat next to Rosa, who was intently lining her lips.

“You feeling ready?” Grace asked, nerves coursing through her veins. Rosa took a second to finish her makeup and consider the question.

“Yes,” she said decisively. “Everyone’s worked so hard and we’ve had a ton of fun. I think this is going to go really well.”

“Optimism. I like it.”

“I try. How about you? Feeling ready?”

“Mmm,” Grace hummed noncommittally. “I guess I kind of have to be.”

“Yeah, a little bit. But you don’t have anything to worry about. I’ve seen how hard you’ve worked on this show. You’re absolutely the right person to be the lead, and I’m completely sure that you’ll be amazing.”

“Aw, Rosa!” Grace quickly flung her arms around Rosa, trying not to tear up and ruin her makeup. “You always know exactly what to say.”

Rosa simply shrugged. “Anyone here would say the same.”

“Still. It means so much. I think… ugh,” Grace trailed off as she turned her face up towards the ceiling, trying desperately not to let tears run down her cheeks. “I think I’m breaking out of this funk that I’ve been in for half a year. Like, I heard your compliment and I didn’t automatically think that you were just lying because we’re friends. I don’t automatically declare myself a failure anymore when I mess up little things.”

“That’s great, Grace! I’m really proud of all the progress you’ve made. You’re a ton more confident than when we first met.”

“It’s mostly because of you, yknow,” Grace said, reaching over to squeeze Rosa’s hand. Rosa just shook her head.

“No, it was all you. But I’m glad that I could help.” Rosa handed Grace a stack of tissues and Grace carefully blotted at the corners of her eyes with them. When she finished, Grace moved to pull Rosa into a tight hug.

Once they separated, Grace’s eyes found the clock. It was almost 6:45.

“We should go soon. Ajay said to be in the music room at quarter til.”

“Oh, is that what he said?” Rosa asked, her face neutral but her voice light and teasing. Grace blushed and smacked Rosa lightly on the arm.

“Yes! Now let’s go.” Grace pulled Rosa from the dressing room.

“Ay dios mio! Let me put my shoes on!”

“Hurry up!”

After some friendly bickering and speed-walking to the music room, they were among the first to arrive. Rosa huffed indignantly at Grace, then went over to check her makeup in the mirrors that covered the walls. Grace looked around the room and settled down next to Kevin. She offered a hand for a high five.

“Ready to be a 1930s power couple?” he asked.

“Yup. ‘Two livin’ legends’,” she quoted with a smile.

He chuckled, then his face turned serious. “Nervous?”

“Yeah. I think I will be until we’re onstage.”

“Really?��� Kevin asked. “I didn’t think you got nervous.”

“What? Why not?”

“I dunno. You always seem so calm onstage.”

“It’s an act. It’s all an act,” Grace laughed. Kevin looked relieved, and Grace set a hand on his shoulder. “We’re gonna be awesome.”

At that moment, Ajay entered, followed by Emily. He sent a stunning grin Grace’s way—she remembered with all too much clarity how that grin had felt against her lips—then turned to address the room at large. He spun a chair around and sat backwards on it, facing the collection of actors.

“Alright,” he started with a big smile, “you guys have worked so hard on this production, and I’m so incredibly proud of all of you. All I’m gonna ask of you guys is to keep that passion up for the entire run. Don’t let me down now.”

The cast laughed.

“I’m going to be watching from the audience tonight. We’ll meet here right after the show every night for notes, and I’ll also email them out.” He paused to check his watch. “Alright, curtain in ten. Go make me proud.”

With that he and Emily left, and the cast slowly got up from their seats. Grace’s stomach started to churn and a burning sensation ran up her throat into her chest. Her hands started to shake, and her leg started to bounce. She got up quickly and made her way backstage, where she paced behind the curtain until she nearly ran into Kaylie who was doing the exact same thing, her face white as a sheet.

Grace stopped her and reached around to adjust a bow on Kaylie costume.

“Hey, you okay?”

Kaylie swallowed. “I’m fine,” she said unconvincingly.

Grace grimaced sympathetically. “I’m nervous too. This waiting around part kind of sucks.”

A small smile reached Kaylie’s face. “Yeah, it really does.”

“Can I give you a hug?” Grace asked. When the girl nodded, Grace wrapped her arms tightly around her.

“You’re going to be great, Kaylie. I know it.”

The smile reached Kaylie’s face. “Thanks, Grace. You too.”

Just then, Emily appeared from the wings to tap on Grace’s shoulder and gesture to the car. Places. Grace took in several deep breaths, then walked onstage to join Kevin. She got in the car with him and he gave her a smile. She rested her head on his shoulder and they both closed their eyes. They heard the sound from the audience get quieter, then the curtains rolled open and the lights came up on the stage.

***

The light went amber, a sunset fading in the distance. Bonnie stood in front of her car, angrily kicking the front tire.

“Damn it! Damn it! Damn it! Damn it!”

Clyde sauntered up to her, an unkempt man in a torn white tank top and suspenders. She had no reason to trust him, but immediately upon seeing him she did anyways.

“Hey!” he said. “Engine trouble?”

She finally stopped kicking the tire. “Engine trouble, tire trouble, oil trouble…” she listed, sounding defeated.

“Looks like you and me got the same car,” Clyde noted. “Goes through oil like a preacher through whiskey, huh?”

Bonnie smiled, just a little. “Yeah.”

“How ‘bout I see if I can fix you up? And then maybe you gimme a lift into West Dallas.”

“Sure. Thanks,” she said, then stepped back to let him pop the hood and peer under it. “You live in the Devil’s Back Porch?”

“Not for much longer.”

“I don’t know anybody ever moved out of West Dallas,” Bonnie said, hands on her hips. He pulled his head out from under the hood and offered her a grease-stained hand.

“You do now,” he said with a wink. “Clyde Barrow.”

She shook her head, but smiled and took his hand. “Bonnie Parker.”

***

Clyde, now clad in a suit, pointed a shotgun at a bank teller. Bonnie stood beside him, a large leather bag hanging from her shoulder.

“Now, my partner here is gonna approach the counter with a bag that I would very much like you to fill with cash,” he said, his voice commanding the silence of the entire bank.

“I’m afraid I can’t do that,” the teller said calmly. Only his trembling fingers betrayed his anxiety.

Clyde raised his eyebrows, and exchanged a look with Bonnie. “Do you not see this gun, mister?” He gestured with the gun, causing a few in the crowd of hostages nearby to startle.

“I can’t fill your bag with cash because there isn’t any,” the teller clarified, a shake starting to become audible in his voice.

“This here’s a bank, ain’t it?” Clyde asked, sarcasm dripping from his voice.

“Yes, but--”

Clyde looked around as if he’d just noticed the uncommonly large crowd at the bank. “What is goin’ on here?”

“The bank’s closed.”

“Then what’re all these folks doin’ here?”

“Trying to get our damn money!” shouted an older man from near the back of the crowd.

“They’re sayin’ the bank is broke!” yelled the woman beside him.

“Not a nickle in the drawers,” said the teller.

“You’re tellin’ me I’m robbing a bank with no money?” Clyde said, disbelief coloring his tone.

“Complaint forms are over there.”

***

For Grace, the curtain call was always a precious moment. She and Kevin stepped onto the stage, hand in hand, to thunderous applause. Tears welled up in her eyes from the pure joy of the moment as she took her bow. As soon as the curtain closed, she let them fall. Rosa rushed up to her, putting a hand on her back as Grace desperately tried to wipe the tears away.

“Grace, are you okay?”

Grace nodded, a small sob bursting from her throat. She sniffed and tilted her head up to the lights. “I don’t think I’ve ever been so happy.”

Rosa grinned and put an arm around Grace’s shoulders, guiding her backstage to the music room. After a few minutes of the cast circulating the room, hugging and cheering, Ajay stepped in and they all fell silent.

“Good job, guys,” he said, trying not to sound too enthusiastic. “I have a couple notes, but that was a good show.”

The entire cast started cheering again, louder than before. They knew that that kind of compliment out of their director was  rare, and it meant a lot more than he wanted them to think. Eventually, they quieted down to receive their notes, then dispersed to their respective dressing rooms. Grace stayed behind, waiting in the hallway outside the music room. When Ajay finally emerged, she caught his attention and he pulled her over to an alcove in the hall. He took her face in his hands and kissed her forehead almost reverently.

“You were stunning up there, Grace. I knew you would be.” He kissed both her cheeks and then pressed his lips softly to hers. “Now go home, get some sleep. We’ve still got three shows left this week.”

***

After the show Sunday, the end of the first week:

“Mom! Dad! James!” Grace cried, running full tilt through the nearly empty lobby to sweep her family up into a giant hug.

Once they broke apart, everyone grinning, Grace’s dad handed her a gigantic bouquet. Her mom beamed at her. James just sighed and ruffled her hair from his height almost a foot above her.

“Thanks, guys! And hey, cut it out!” She batted James’ hand away from her head. “But really, thank you guys so much for coming!”

“It was great, Gracie,” her mom said, smoothing her hair down where James had messed it up. “You’re our little star.”

“Hey!” James protested, sending the whole group into peals of laughter. Grace caught Ajay’s eye from where he was leaning against the wall, waiting.

“Guys,” she said, turning back to her family, “I want to introduce you to the director. Or, reintroduce you.”

Her father’s brow furrowed in confusion, but her mom’s eyes widened when she saw Ajay walking up to the group over Grace’s shoulder.

***

Friday, the second week:

“Bonnie!” Clyde yelled, reaching through the bars. Bonnie rushed over to him, throwing her bag to the ground and sinking to her knees when she saw him.

“Oh my god… what happened to your face, baby? What’s goin’ on? Can’t I complain? Can’t I do something?” She turned to yell for the prison guards.

“Somebody help him!”

She turned back to him, her eyes searching his face for some sort of explanation. Clyde opened his mouth, but said nothing.

Grace tugged on Kevin’s collar again, but the only thing she could register on his face was sheer panic. His line cued the guard’s entry, but he wasn’t saying it. The silence grew awkward, and Grace knew she had to do something, she just didn’t know what.

“Baby, what can I do? Can I–” Bonnie looked around, then lowered her voice. “Can I break you out of here? You got somethin’ I can bring you to help you bust out?”

Grace searched Kevin’s still-panicked face, hoping that improvised line was enough to give him a cue. And as realization slowly flooded his eyes and his face relaxed, she breathed a sigh of relief and knew it had been.

“Yeah, at the gas station, there’s a gun hidden under the porch–” he started, but a guard burst into the room, interrupting him.

“What seems to be the problem?”

Bonnie turned to face the guard, standing up. Pure rage twisted her features.

“Look at him!”

***

After the show Friday, Grace leaned against the door of her dressing room, scrolling through something on her phone. Ajay sauntered up.

“Hey,” he said, startling her. “Oh, sorry.”

“No, don’t worry. I’m just waiting for Rosa.”

“Is she running late, or something? You guys usually leave together.”

“Yeah, but my roommate came to this performance so we’re all going to leave together. But Rosa’s currently making out with my roommate in her dressing room, so…”

Ajay’s eyebrows shot up. “Wow.”

“Yeah,” Grace sighed. “If only there was something I could do in the meantime…” She cast him a meaningful glance. He promptly turned red and started stuttering. Grace burst out into laughter.

“I don’t get you,” she said between laughs. “You can be the smoothest guy in the world one second and a blubbering mess the next. What’s up with that?”

He shook his head with a smile. “I don’t know. I guess you bring out the best and the worst in me.”

***

Sunday, the second week:

Bonnie threw a glass jar to the ground, enraged. Then, all the fight gone out of her, she sighed and dropped to her knees, sweeping the shards onto a piece of fabric that she dumped in the trash. The familiar piano-and-guitar melody started up, and after a few bars Bonnie began to sing.

“I know my heart don’t care what people say. All I know is that I never felt like this. And besides, I wouldn’t change him if I could… No man’s all good…”

She walked over to an old armchair and sat heavily in it while Blanche sang from inside her beauty parlor.

“I always knew what I was takin’ on, but I always felt that I could change his ways. Even if my man will never fall in line… glad he’s mine.”

And then, from opposite sides of Cement City, Bonnie and Blanche sang in harmony.

“‘Cos you love who you love, and you can’t help how you’re made. You don’t have no say, your heart decides. It’s that simple, I’m afraid…”

Later in the song, Bonnie got up from her armchair. She pulled on Clyde’s old coat that he’d left in her house, and she gazed offstage, singing as if he were there.

“I only care that he’s mine and I am his. There ain’t no rules, that’s how it is. Most girls would hate to be standing in my shoes, but true love’s something you don’t choose,” she belted, all the loneliness and anguish and desperation flooding her face and affecting her tone.

Grace poured her own emotions into every syllable of those words, singing to her invisible Clyde right in the front of the wings. Except he wasn’t invisible, and he wasn’t Clyde, and he wasn’t even hers yet but he was standing there in a beige blazer and tortoiseshell glasses with gentle eyes and a soft smile, his face reflecting every sentiment she expressed. And she hoped that he knew that she meant every single word, even if she couldn’t tell him.

***

Thursday, the last week:

As she stormed offstage as Bonnie, Grace felt a sharp pain in her foot. She ignored it until she got to the wings, but immediately sat down under a blue light once she was there and took off her thin-soled shoe. The sharp pain only got worse when the removal of her shoe meant pulling a large shard of glass out of her heel. She nearly cried out in pain, but clamped a hand over her mouth before any sound could escape. One of the dressers—the one that helped Grace pull the gunshot wound stickers off her face during the prologue—noticed and rushed over, grabbing the first aid kit from the wall.

The dresser helped her back to her well-lit dressing room, then inspected the cut.

“It’s not too deep,” the dresser smiled up at her. “I’ll just clean it, stick a bandage on, and wrap it up. You’ll be fine for the rest of the show, but you should probably get it checked out tonight or tomorrow morning.”

Grace hissed as the dresser sprayed antibacterial on her foot. “How do you know all this?”

“I’m a paramedic,” the dresser grinned up at her.

“Wow. Well, thank god for you. I hope this is the worst you ever have to save me from.”

They laughed softly as the dresser finished bandaging her foot.

“When do you have to be back on?”

“After they do ‘When I Drive’. It’s not a lot of time, but it’s something.”

The dresser sighed. “Well, rest that foot as much as you can.”

“Yeah. Thanks so much.”

The dresser turned to leave, and Grace sighed down at her foot, still smarting from the glass shard. She’d have to be careful next time about only breaking the jar over the rug.

***

Curtain call closing night was indescribable. The joy she’d felt opening night was multiplied and combined with nostalgia, fierce love for every person onstage and backstage, and this time she really did tear up right on stage. Kevin wrapped his arm around her shoulder (and pressed a kiss to her temple for the sake of the audience) as tears rolled down her face. She wiped them away and put on her best and brightest smile for the audience, all standing, until the curtains closed. Then she turned directly into Kevin and wrapped her arms around him, sobbing into his chest.

When she looked up, she was surprised to find that his cheeks were wet too. And she was even more surprised when Rosa came and wrapped her arms around both of them, then Elijah, then Andrew, then Lysander, then Kaylie and Jackson, then all of the ensemble and even the dressers and run crew came out and joined the massive group hug. More people were crying than not, and most from pure happy joy.

Minutes later, when the hug finally broke up, everyone split off in opposite directions. They were all eager to get home, fatigue turning to happy exhaustion. They’d all help with strike Monday, but nobody planned to show up before noon. The theatre may have been rapidly emptying, but Grace’s heart was filling up fast. The cast and crew might have been wavering, but she thrummed with energy as she went to look for Ajay.

She searched backstage for him, behind every set piece and in every darkened corner. Nothing.

No mind, she thought, he’s probably in the music room. That was where they had notes every night, and even though they wouldn’t tonight it wasn’t unreasonable to think he’d be there. She made her way down to the music room, but it was empty.

Turning desperate, she searched the halls through the theatre, the house, and the lobby for him, but he was nowhere to be found. As she made a final lap through the music room, just to make sure she hadn’t missed him, her heart sank lower and lower until she felt it drop out of her body and sink into the floor. She rounded the stairs to head resignedly back to her dressing room.

He stood me up, was all she could think. He realized he was making a mistake and he bolted. Logic piped up and tried to tell her she was being unreasonable, but between the emotions running high from closing night and the fissure quickly forming in her heart, she couldn’t listen.

Maybe he has a good explanation, her brain protested as she trudged up the stairs. You should go check your phone. See if he texted.

Or maybe I’m just a failure again, her heart screamed, drowning out all reason.

Tears sprung in her eyes again, but for a completely different reason this time. She slowly turned the knob to her dressing room door, all the happiness gone out of her. 

She was so preoccupied with her warring emotions that she didn’t even notice that the light was on in the dressing room.

#how bout a dance #how bout a dance part 11 #ajay x mc #ajay bhandari #choices fanfic #hssca #hssca fanfic #imma honestly just post this and Go #my fanfic #hbad

[elizas-writing]

Movie Reviews: The Incredibles 2

Alright, I’m just going to throw this out there now before I get ahead of myself. Yes, this movie is not epilepsy friendly. There’s a shit ton of flashing strobe lights periodically through the whole film, and I definitely don’t recommend seeing it in theaters if your photo sensitivity is that bad. Just wait until it’s streaming.

Now, on with the review!

Of all the Pixar films which were dying for a sequel, The Incredibles was right up at the top. Director Brad Bird brought visual splendor of retrofuturism and his intense brand of maturity you almost never get to see in family animated films, making it one of Pixar’s best. With it being a superhero film (especially in a time before cinematic universes were a thing), there was a ton of potential for character growth and new villains with a sequel.

But Bird got sucked into some other projects and wanted to wait out enough time to let the creativity to flow naturally. So when they finally announced that the sequel was going to be a thing after fourteen years, people got excited. While I was definitely one of those people, I was also a little worried since it is a sequel being released fourteen years later. Would it actually live up to the hype?

Well, let’s go into the story first.

Starting right where we last left off in the first film, the Parr family (AKA the Incredibles) confront the Underminer. Despite their best efforts to keep everyone safe and stop the villain, he escapes anyway, and the family is blamed for the collateral damage. This prompts the shut down of the Superhero Relocation Program, leaving the Parrs with no resources to pick themselves up after losing their home fighting Syndrome three months before. Luckily, someone saw them in action and wants to regain public support of Supers. Winston and Evelyn Deavor of DevTech want to use their technology to publicize the superhero work civilians don’t see, ensuring that they are still saving society and provide enough reason to legalize supers once again. Helen Parr (Elastigirl) is picked as their representative, leaving Bob (Mr. Incredible) to watch the kids while she’s out fighting crime. As Helen gets a taste of adrenaline again and Bob adapts to being a homemaker, a new threat emerges which could jeopardize Supers and keep them hidden forever.

This is one of the best looking Pixar films to date with such a meticulous attention to detail. The textures in the skin, clothing, glass, and water are just amazing to look at with similar photo-realism I last saw in Coco. It ups the action scenes and emotional performances with Bird’s fluidly expressive and fast-paced animation. It also takes full advantage of what the supers, old and new, can do with their powers, especially Elastigirl. Any time I saw her use a new technique with her flexibility, I just thought, “Brilliant!” You can tell there were great, creative minds behind the fight scenes to make these powers stand out. No wonder it took so long to get a sequel out.

Most of the original voice cast is back to reprise their roles, and as expected, they’re still wonderful in keeping up with Bird’s kind of energy. Dash was the only voice to be replaced since his actor grew too old, but you can’t even tell the difference, and he’s just perfect for Dash. And, of course, the newer voices are just as amazing for this fast-paced, energetic movie.

I’ll admit I was initially worried at the premise since it just seemed like a role reversal of the first film, right down to a tech company CEO wanting Supers to make a comeback. And how many sitcoms have we seen where the dad has to stay at home, take care of the kids and is just a royal fuck up? On one hand, the plot gets a little predictable, but it thankfully provides updates where it sorely needed them. As expected, Bob is out of touch with being a father, hates not working, and-- no pun intended-- is incredibly insecure on his wife being the breadwinner and first choice for regaining public support of Supers. But it’s very careful to not make him a stereotypical incompetent dad/husband character type.

He adapts, becomes resourceful, listens to his kids, and eventually gets over himself when he realizes he’s being irrational. And given that he’s raising Super kids at such a pivotal point in their lives-- particularly with Jack Jack growing more erratic with his new powers by the day--, his stress is understandable; hell, you’d probably freak out too if your youngest child just vanished into another dimension. He’s just a wonderful dad to look up to as someone who always tries to do better for his family.

It’s also great seeing Helen in the spotlight with a noticeably different fighting style from her husband. While Bob likes to smash his way through a situation with brute force, Helen is a lot more meticulous, cunning and careful, whether in a fight or saving bystanders. I love seeing her energy and enjoying the thrill of superhero work, but not letting it go to her head and remembering why she’s there. She has fun interactions with Evelyn and some of the other Supers, and as I said before, the animation on her is super creative and so damn impressive.

Violet and Dash are still a fun sibling dynamic where they equally get on each other’s nerves but are also excellent superhero partners, whether making sure their dad is in check or fighting off bad guys themselves. It’s just a fun rapport between the two. I also really appreciate how maturely Bird treats them under their circumstances. They’re as much involved with this changing world as their parents, and need to learn how to navigate balancing a normal life and a superhero life. And their parents know better than to tap dance around the truth, so they can be prepared for the worst case scenario. And Jack-Jack is a whole brand of wild with his new powers you just have to see for yourself. He’s a laugh riot, and it’s so cute to see him mimic the adults’ behaviors.

While there are some wonderful changes to a typical sitcom plot and the mystery Helen has to solve is fascinating, I felt like the film could’ve gone the extra mile in expanding the worldbuilding and character dilemmas, especially for how much they kept building up the whole “It’s been 14 years!” in the commercials. I love these new heroes they introduce (particularly Voyd, who is a disaster lesbian, who the fuck are y’all kidding with the “functional” shit), but I wanted to know more about the world dealing with the comeback of Supers with reemerging prejudices on collateral damage, overbearing amounts of responsibility, and the possibility of over-reliance on Supers to save the day.

The commentary is there, but the plot still has to juggle what’s going on with the rest of the family while Helen is at work. And even that doesn’t seem to be balanced out either. There’s a whole section on Violet trying to maintain a relationship with a boy which produces a lot of complications with her maintaining secrecy on her Super identity. That would be a perfect opportunity to explore these prejudices and what Supers sacrifice in hiding. But they’re brief scenes with way too fast resolutions.

And with the story being so predictable, we have another plot twist villain, and this trend in Disney films is obnoxious because it’s almost never a surprise anymore. I’d be more forgiving if we took more time to dive into their motivations or if there was fascinating subtext like in Moana. And this villain has some great points to bounce off the heroes, but like I said, the worldbuilding is cut too short because of the other developing side-plots. It really sucks, because Bird handled the paranoia of the other so well in The Iron Giant, and The Incredibles is the perfect setting to explore such themes and make parallels to Civil Rights. It’s not awful or severely underdeveloped, but I think they missed an opportunity to make the story pack a punch and relied a little too much on its own hype.

Even for what it lacks, The Incredibles 2 is still a fun family superhero flick which delivers what was perfect from the first film. The animation is freaking amazing, the characters and their interactions are fun with some great growth, and the action really packs a punch. I can’t completely get behind the hype like the marketing wants me to, but for The Incredbiles, it’s too damn entertaining to miss out on.

If you enjoyed this review and what I do here, consider buying me a ko-fi to show your support!

#the incredibles #incredibles #the incredibles 2 #incredibles 2 #disney #pixar #disney pixar #movie #movie review #movie reviews #reviews #my writing

[fantasticcats]

In which I go to London for 3 days: Fantasticcats attends the Professional Development Course from Punchdrunk.

A few ground rules, and the rest will be under a cut for the spoiler averse and because it is long as hell.

Things I can do: Describe what we did and show you photos of what my team created in two of the blank canvass spaces. Things I can’t do: Give you photos of the fully dressed Fallow Cross village. You can find some via this article though so you have an idea of what is there. Things I won’t do: Draw you a map and tell you how to get there or go into detail about the children’s programs they’ve created in the space.

London was having one of those snow storms I thought only people in Portland freaked out about, and after navigating cancelled flights and summoning the will to travel into a mess, I made it on time to the Saturday 1 day Design Masterclass with Punchdrunk Creatives. The email we’d been given noted that this was to be the last design class (ever? This year? I don’t know.) and we were given a copy of the short story The Lottery to read prior to arrival.

After standing outside with a bunch of equally confused and possibly lost folk, I found myself lead into an old classroom. It was that pale blue color of old public elementary schools everywhere and there was a nice skeleton hanging out in the corner. We sat facing our two hosts (which I’m also not going to name because: privacy) and introduced ourselves, revealing a variety of people whose interest in the workshop ranged from professional: museum exhibit designers to actors and video game designers to “because they really liked Punchdrunk!” I fell into an abstract category- being the only person who had come from ridiculously far away and also because I am curious how their design process might work with the art I’ve been creating for a few years now as well as my own home’s aesthetic.

We began by looking over photos of various Punchdrunk sets, and speaking about their use of repetition, scale, and creating tension. They told us that they like to create levels of tension and have spaces that are like breaks for the audience. They like to put the places that will have the most tension in the middle of spaces or floors, and have the breaks on the outside- like a sandwich. Think about your favorite Punchdrunk show and about the spaces and what happens in them and see if you can find this strategy. I definitely can with SNM NYC.

They also talked about how they are different from a lot of theater companies in that they can’t create a lot of the props because when you touched them in the show you’d realize they weren’t real, so the set creators spend a lot of time shopping to fill a space. DREAM JOB!

After the chat it was time to see Fallow Cross. They walked us through how the school children who had visited had the space revealed to them, and then recreated that moment for us. We knew what was coming, but I am pretty sure if I was a child and had that happen I’d lose my goddamn mind.

Some thoughts about being in the space: It’s bigger than it looks, with secret rooms, pass throughs, and second floors to discover. My favorite places were the candle maker’s shop, the church, and the optometrist (or was it an ophthalmologist?.....let’s go with eye doctor.) I loved the tones and Fulton-esque vibe of the eye doctor’s office, and the church had little hidden back rooms that gave it depth beyond it’s welcoming pews. We got to walk around unmasked for a while with the full lighting effects and Punchdrunk drone soundtrack we all know and love. I do feel like smells were missing, but it is also a lot colder in there due to the weather so that might have been part of it. When we chatted about the space later, it made me smile how many people found the mayors house- that was full of taxidermy- scary, or how they felt like people might jump out at them in other spaces.

They’ve said Fallow will never house a full show, and I think one reason for that is the density of the set design. The doll house maker’s shop has hundreds of dolls and doll parts crammed into shelves. The bric-a-brac shop looks like every small town antique shop you’ve ever been in. The candle maker store is like a more organized Hecate’s apothecary with lots of real candles and a tiny store room full of glass containers. Basically, a full audience would destroy this place in an hour. Maybe it was this sensory overload (or lack of a mask) that made me reluctant to touch or really interact with anything, but I loved every second of walking through the buildings and seeing what was around every corner.

After the space exploration, it was time for the first practical exercise. We were shown to a far corner of a village and three dwellings whose doors had been locked during our walk around. Our hosts divided us into 3 teams and assigned each a house. We were given a plastic bin containing big rolls of white paper, some string, some markers, a staple gun, a few chairs, scissors, and push pins, and told that we could staple and paper to our hearts content in the spaces. On the door of each space was an envelope containing a scene we had to create using only the items in the bucket.

We were given 10 minutes.

If you watch any competitive cooking or design reality shows and have ever played along with what you would do in the allotted time, you can imagine what this was like. Now imagine you’re in a Punchdrunk space with Punchdrunk creatives watching you and the combination of howfuckingcoolisthisomg and oh holy hell I have to work with strangers and also omg now I only have 9:30 min left. So yeah, it was like that.

Our team was assigned the creation of a train carriage. We knew that once people from the other teams walked through that they would have to identify our space, but we were a little foggy on how much story we needed to get in the scene. We set our scene fairly simply, but I did make all One Way tickets and a sign that only had departing times and then they placed candles on the seats. A lighting tech came in with an iPad and asked how we wanted the scene lit, and adjusted things for us directly on his pad. And that’s another thing about Fallow Cross- despite looking like a quaint little town, it is wired in ways you don’t expect. One space is even completely soundproof, but you’d never know by looking at.

The time flew by. Once it was over, we were given time to tour the other spaces, and then we got together to guess at what we’d seen and if we got it right. While we didn’t have a very high intensity scene, everyone knew what it was, and someone did mention my one way train tickets, so I was happy about that.

The next practical exercise was my favorite, but I wasn’t allowed to photograph it. We were sent back into the main village where the street was filled with more giant bins, each containing detail pieces. Imagine files, photos, clothing, books, cards, trinkets, and basically anything you’d expect to find when looking through the drawers in someone’s house if were the kind of creeper that did that in the real world and not just Punchdrunk sets.

We were assigned a partner and a space in the village. I was paired with a person and sent to the eye doctor’s store. Our task was to read the description placed inside the envelope they’d tacked to the door, and use detail pieces to convey that description. I think we had 15 minutes this time.

As someone who has been deeply influenced by Punchdrunk’s set design for 5 years, I cannot begin to explain the joy this was for me to do. Short of actually working for them someday this was the best possible thing I could be doing.

AND OH MAN. I couldn’t think of anything more me than what we got: The optometrist is unhappy with the local church. They are drawn to the Pagan religion in a neighboring village and have been visiting there in secret.

I grabbed a screen in the room to create a barrier between the main office and the desk. After that I used playing cards laid out as tarot cards, found a great book called The Devil, and my partner went to work creating little notes with runes and sigils on them. After we had the desk set up we covered half of the scene with a cloth, turned the chair on its side like they’d rushed out, and I semi-trashed the office space in that “I don’t have the energy to manage my business with these assholes” kind of way I’d imagine it would be.

Our space seemed to be a success. Many people totally got what we’d done, and the facilitators liked how we’d split the room to make people want to walk behind the screen to check out what was there.

I also really enjoyed what other teams had done. One example was the bartender in the pub had a crush on the preacher’s daughter, and the bar was set up totally normally…..but if you went behind the bar you saw they’d set up a shrine to this woman. So perfect.

After that it was lunchtime. Time had sped by, and it was difficult walking from the lovely darkness of Fallow Cross into the chilly daylight.

Following  lunch was last practical exercise. We were taken back to the blank canvass homes again and handed back our buckets of paper and office supplies. This time, however, in the outside seating area, was a large bin of stones. It was time for our Lottery scene.

Three teams again, and each of the houses got a character from The Lottery. If you don’t feel like reading the story, I suggest this super quick short film so you get the general idea of who was who.

We got Old Man Warner, the cranky guy who bragged about how many lotteries he’d survived. Our team got to work pretty fast in the small home we were given. We were told not to invent a new story but to try to draw on what we knew about him and infer things. Other things they wanted us to consider was if our house was before, during, or after the lottery, and what effect would that have on the level of intensity in the space. We asked each other questions such as “Is his home neat? What is he reading? What are his other interests?” It forced us to really dig into what kind of man we thought Warner was.

We decided he definitely lived alone now, but had surely lost a loved one to the Lottery- and his determination to keep it alive was so they wouldn’t have died in vein. We set up a little memorial to the deceased (his wife) next to his bed. If anyone picked up the envelope under the shrine they’d find the ominous slip of paper with the black dot inside of it.

Next, we created 77 slips of paper and tacked them to a board to display, with a single chair and spotlight facing them in the dim lit room. We used the paper to create a wall, so that people walking through the door would want to look around the corner to see this set up.

Elsewhere in the room we put things we thought he’d be interested in: almanacs, newspaper articles about crops, and a giant sign that said 'Lottery in June, corn be heavy soon,' happily displayed for all to see. Outside of the building we created a paper garden with a sign to remember the lottery!

We had a bit longer on this project—I think maybe an hour? So we were able to really get in as much details as our material afforded us. Using only paper and string to create a full scene, especially when you’ve been in a Punchdrunk space all afternoon, takes your imagination and ability to make something from nothing to a new level. Once the time was up we toured other spaces, and after downloading the story into my brain for a week straight it was actually kind of unsettling to see it realized. The other two spaces were Mr. Summer’s house and the Hutchinson house.

One thing that really struck me was in the Hutchinson home, where it seemed to be set while the lottery was taking place—they’d created a dining room table and each place setting had a stone with the family member’s name on it. It was a powerful image.

After we finished visiting and critiquing the spaces, we gathered for tea & an informal Q&A in The Siren—the pub in Fallow Cross, before leaving. The day had flown by so fast, but I felt inspired and armed with practical strategies and a deeper sense of how putting the right effort into a process can capture attention, inspire a sense of mystery, and guide an audience.

I can’t speak for the entire class but those I did talk with seemed to have a really positive experience and were really happy they were there. While I know it’s totally nuts that I flew to London for 72 hours just to do this, I was happy I was able to make it happen and if they ever offered more design/creative based classes I would go again in a heartbeat.

This is already insanely long so I’ll just thank you all for reading. If you’re curious about the spaces other teams created I am happy to tell you all about them.

#punchdrunk #sleep no more #fallow cross #fallowcross #set sesign #immersive theate #theater #snm #Fantastic Projects #creative #imagination #The Lottery #Shirley Jackson #sleepnomore

[lancecarr]

NAB Show 2019 Preview ֠Whatҳ the Reality with Bigger, Better and Cheaper HD Displays?

Joe Kane

By collecting the people, technology, insight and innovations that help the media & entertainment industry move forward, NAB Show continues to be the highlight of the year for creative professionals across the industry. As an illustration of what that collection of expertise looks like, Joe Kane is set to showcase his insights at NAB Show during the Displays – Bigger, Better, Cheap – What is the Reality? session, where he’ll tell attendees what’s real and affordable, but also provide a glimpse into the direction of consumers.

As the President at Joe Kane Productions, Mr. Kane has a keen understanding of how the video landscape has changed over the last few years, and how those changes impact what we’ll see in the near-future. Joe Kane Productions supplies test materials to help answer issues in 3D and provide a source signal quality much better than specification and test materials for UHD. Ultimately, the goal is to UHD come up with a revised version that will completely replace HDTV.

We connected with Mr. Kane to explore what he’s set to talk through at his NAB Show session but also talked about the changes he’s witnessed in the media landscape. We asked him about the revised version of UHD that will completely replace HDTV, how consumer exceptions around TV sets and displays have changed, what he’s looking forward to being part of at NAB Show 2019 and plenty more.

To learn more about or register for NAB Show taking place April 6-11 in Las Vegas, click here.

  ProVideo Coalition: Tell us a little bit about how you’ve seen the media landscape change over the years, and about your efforts to keep up with those changes.

Joe Kane: From a video standards point of view we’ve gone from strict rules about how we build video, based on how it looks on a well-defined reference display, to what to me feels like a free for all. In discussing signal processing I often use the example of editing systems built by computer companies who know little about video. They often feel they can do what they want with it and use anything available as a ‘reference’ monitor. They claim to have a large enough following to create their own universe. What they are doing is now so pervasive we have to accommodate. When I designed a professional grade 1080p projector I included a capability of switching between what I call Video and PC systems.

In displays I was of the mind they had to do exactly what system standards demanded of them. Today displays and video processing capability are so diverse I feel the signal driving displays has to be flexible enough to accommodate whatever the display wants. In the future, we’ll describe a master in terms of ‘display referred’. In other words, this is what the display (canvas) looked like when I created my artistic intent. I need to be able to get to any other display capability and produce a picture that represents my artistic intent.

What can you tell us about your efforts in assisting in coming up with a revised version of UHD that will completely replace HDTV?

The most important direction I’m taking is supporting the idea of a single master for content. The idea is the display tells the source what it is capable of doing. With a mutual handshake, the most compatible version of the content comes out. The single master source signal is not formatted for HDR but contains enough bit depth to get there. In part what this says is a set with only a 750 nit peak light output capability will have the HDR signal formatted for 750 nits. This eliminates the tone mapping these sets are currently required to do.

It also allows for formats that are friendlier to the display’s capability. PQ based HDR is not friendly to any of the commonly available display technologies. We are currently introducing a 300 nit extended dynamic range (EDR) gamma based capability. It was initially created to show the single master can do things not anticipated, but in the process we discovered, given the limitations of display capability, the EDR picture actually looks better than the HDR signal. The output of the single master can also compensate for viewing conditions. Not only will the handshake convey what the set is capable of doing but could also tell us about the intensity of the light behind and in front of the set. In your home, you could have multiple displays of the same type but in different environments, the kitchen, the living room, the bedroom. In reality, each set would want its own version of the program.

In theaters today exhibitors often run multiple types of displays. Currently, each one has to have its own master. If there are only a few of a particular type of display, the Dolby projector or a direct LED wall as examples, the distributor may not want to provide a special version for so few of these displays. The single master approach would solve this issue.

What aspect or element of high definition technology do you most often see professionals get confused about?

In discussing this it would be helpful to define high definition. If UHD is included the answer might require a time stamp. In part what I see in confusion is where they are on the timeline of learning about UHD and HDR. Questions and or confusion often center on something new to them.

If there are general, on-going topics I’d pick display and signal path issues. The professional world is often dependent on consumer devices to display content. They are needed as there aren’t a lot of choices in ‘professional’ monitors large enough to begin to see what is going on in the signal. As recent as October 2017, I ran across a major TV set manufacturer that didn’t have a 601, 709 or 2020 Y Cr Cb decoder built into their UHD TV sets. The pictures couldn’t be made to be correct and it took some effort to figure out why.

If we look at HD as well as UHD, when we went to digital there was a general loss of knowledge on how to do a proof of performance. In the analog world, there were test signals at the head of every program. Someone went through the entire video chain to make sure they were coming out right. Today I’m still hearing ‘its digital, what could possibly go wrong?’ With the myriad of options that could be set it is as important today to check the signal path than it ever was. The number of options is getting much larger as we begin to produce many versions of UHD content. It’s also a combination of PC versus Video levels, as well as resolutions. We’re delivering 4096 by 2160 as well as 3840 by 2160. What do consumer TV sets do with 4096 when they can only display 3840?

Have consumer exceptions around TV sets and displays similarly changed?

I sometimes tell stories of human behavior research where we find attention delivered in a positive way gets a positive response. UHD is consumer product manufacturer driven. What’s in it, HDR and color space in particular, are fairly easy to promote, even if TV set manufacturers don’t get it right.

In my mind, consumers know little about UHD beyond what they are spoon-fed in product promotion. I’ve introduced high-quality video to a number of people in their mid to late 20’s who have gone out in the world and made a living promoting better audio and video quality than most consumers have ever seen. Are there enough of them to matter?   The best I can say is I’m not giving up on trying to provide an experience representing what the system can do.

The systems have been flawed for some time. Interlaced should have never been a part of HD. It took UHD to get rid of it. Y Cr Cb should never have been 4:2:0 or 8 bit. Shortly after standards were set for HD DVD the people I was working with had the time to figure out it should have been a 10 bit 4:2:2 format, as I had wanted from the beginning. As we get into the single master we recognize we need to be delivering 16 bit 4:4:4. Picture size is important to resolution and with brighter pictures comes an ability to recognize Y Cr Cb issues.

What consumers get out of this is partially based on what is shown to them. I ruined so many people for watching interlace video on a CRT set by showing them what it really looked like. In HD 720p looked much better than 1080i. Initially, Fox was going to be content with 480p as they felt it looked better than 1080i.

In what way have you seen changes with high definition technology play out at NAB?

In answering that I’d have to include the PC world in their part of HD. They were into progressive high-resolution imaging long before it came to TV. (The short RGB cable between the computer and the display was on their side.) It seems every year some new computer-based company has a display the size RCA or Grass Valley would have had back in 1978 when I first started going to NAB. The show floor has gotten to a point for me where I have to pick technologies on which to focus. Prior to last year, I thought we were at the end of film scanners only to have them immerge as a new important technology.

Computing horsepower has been a game changer. Virtual reality and artificial intelligence are new focus points for me. After presentations at the HPA Tech Retreat, I’m ready for virtual performances of people long dead. Seeing it in Star Wars is just the beginning. I suspect in the near future there will be as many stages in Las Vegas dedicated to virtual reality performances as Cirque du Soleil currently occupies. Maybe Gracie Allen will finally be able to join George Burns in 3D on stage in La Vegas.

What do you want people to know about your NAB Show 2019 session, “Displays – Bigger, Better, Cheap – What is the Reality?“

Moore’s Law seems to be holding true in a loose definition of what displays can do. Their ever-increasing capabilities are driving how we produce content. Going forward we are looking at More, Better, Faster pixels of which UHD is the introduction. The time between transitions gets shorter. We may be approaching a time of seemingly continuous change.

In preparing for this presentation I looked back at the history of major transitions in the video industry. I was initially going to point out how each transition seemed difficult at the time for one reason or another but compromise(s) were offered to make each new system workable … only to have the issues come up again at the next transition. Among the things I want to suggest is some of the ‘new’ issues we are facing today aren’t all that different from the 1953 NTSC transition to color.

What type of person is going to get the most out of your session?

I feel someone who wants to know about long-term goals will get a lot out of this session. The current transition, and the issues involved in being able to see the new picture, is a starting point in understanding where we might be going. I’d like to believe as much as we might be tempted to narrow our focus to today we’ll do a better job if we are open to what might follow this transition. The real goal is the future. There will be steps to get there but let’s have the future in mind.

What’s next for high definition technology?

In my mind, the most important next step will be the single master concept. As an industry, we’ve been working in real 4K (4096) since 1993, yet when it (3840 by 2160) came to the consumer market in 2012 we essentially had nothing to offer. Let’s not get caught short again.

Is there something specific you’re looking forward to seeing or being part of at NAB Show 2019?

I’ve mentioned my newly found interest in virtual reality combined with artificial intelligence. Beyond that I see the direct LED display having a great deal of potential as the next best display device.

More than anything else, what makes NAB Show an event that’s so distinct and important for creative professionals?

What qualifies as being interesting to people in our industry is diverse beyond anything I would have imagined just a few years ago. I’ve certainly gotten to a point where the show is all about meeting people who can fill me in on the things I will not know on my own. The individual pieces are so many I don’t want to think about having to learn them all. What I want to get out of the show is to know where the pieces might fit into what I want to create and who to call upon for help in making it happen.

  To learn more about or register for NAB Show taking place April 6-111 in Las Vegas, click here.

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Latest story from https://movietvtechgeeks.com/2017-sundance-film-festival-day-2-discovery-landline-big-sick/

2017 Sundance Film Festival Day 2: 'Discovery,' 'Landline' and 'The Big Sick'

Day 2 at the 2017 Sundance Film Festival felt like the old days checking out Charlie McDowell’s follow-up to the brilliant The One I Love. Rather than follow a formula for The Discovery, McDowell gets darker, more terrifying and abstract. The subject matter of mass suicides is dark, but he manages to take it to depths most filmmakers would be afraid of.

We also got to check out The Big Sick, Trophy and Landline which you can see below along with the Q&A’s after each one.

The Discovery

Just a day after opening the festival with the annual Day One press conference, and giving a very personal introduction of former Vice President Al Gore and his Inconvenient Sequel, Festival founder Robert Redford was back in the spotlight at the Eccles Theater on Friday night. Reporting to work for his original day job, the legendary actor was on hand for the world premiere of The Discovery, in which he plays Dr. Thomas Harber, a renowned physicist who has scientifically unearthed evidence of the afterlife.

Directed by Charlie McDowell and written by McDowell and Justin Lader, the haunting The Discovery posits a future in which millions of people hasten their own deaths in order to “get there” and find another plane of existence. Jason Segel stars as Harber’s estranged son Will, who’s determined to have his father’s discoveries rescinded in order to stem these viral suicides, which emerging love interest Isla, played by Rooney Mara, threatens to join.

During the post-screening Q&A, there were numerous questions about what certain elements of the film might mean or augur, particularly regarding the provocative notion of an afterlife that might improve upon our natural one. But McDowell held true to the idea of leaving things open-ended for a premise that “lends itself to a million more questions.”

“Justin and I were really interested in this idea of what if science and religion came together, and we all have to agree to believe that the afterlife is a real place,” McDowell said, referring to his writing partner Lader. “It’s less about where we specifically believe we go, and more about creating this question, and the hope is that the audience brings the history of themselves into the film. That’s something we did with our first film, The One I Love, and it’s something that really intrigues us. We’re much more interested in the audience bringing the makeup of who they are into the film, and us not preaching or saying that this is exactly what we believe, or specifically where we go.”

Redford followed by praising McDowell’s daring as a storyteller, which echoed with things he’s often said about the importance of Sundance as a platform for free expression, and hinted at why this collaboration came to pass. “He has a vision. I mean, this work was really out there,” Redford said. “Charlie is a director that takes risks, and then stands by them. And he’s fierce in his stance. I think he’s going to have a wonderful career.”

If only in jest, McDowell wasn’t about to chance a different evaluation than that one.

“I’d like to announce my retirement now. This is it. I’m done,” McDowell said. To which Lader provided the kicker.

“That’s what it’s like when the afterlife is perfect,” he said.

Trophy

Should economics determine the fate of endangered species?

Director Shaul Schwarz, who returns to the Festival after his 2013 documentary Narco Cultura, and screenwriter Christina Clusiau explore the industry of big-game hunting in Trophy.

“We started this film by me sitting in the kitchen and going online and stumbling on a picture of a guy posing next to [a dead] elephant,” Schwarz explained. “I wanted to kill him – I thought he was the most disgusting individual.” Schwarz, who is from Israel, had never been exposed to trophy hunting and was horrified at what he found.

As he and Clusiau began digging deeper, however, they soon realized it wasn’t that simple. “We very quickly understood that we don’t know that much and it is a much more complex issue than we thought it was.”

The pair went to meet South African rhino farmer John Hume, an ostensibly greedy businessman who trimmed his rhinos’ horns to sell the ivory. Instead, Schwarz and Clusiau found a man who proclaimed he had the solution to saving the rhinos, and argued that he wanted to see them alive rather than be killed by poachers. To his point, when ivory trade was declared illegal, Hume struggled to take care of his rhinos, and the poaching skyrocketed.

The rightness of the “if it pays, it stays” mentality is interrogated throughout the film. If a laissez-faire, self-interest-based approach at least achieves the goal of keeping these animals alive, should it be considered?

The Big Sick

Michael Showalter’s dazzling The Big Sick is many things. It’s a culture clash tale, a story about how we often end up dating our partner’s parents, but it’s mostly a smart, superb and consistently surprising comedy romance that played like gangbusters at its premiere Friday at the Eccles Theatre.

Silicon Valley star Kumail Nanjiani and wife writer-producer Emily V. Gordon co-wrote the screenplay based on their own real-life romance. Nanjiani is a Chicago-based, mildly successful stand-up comic who is at odds with his tradition-based Pakistani family. He’s forever dodging his domineering mother’s endless introductions to potential brides for an arranged marriage. At a comedy club, he meets spunky blond American Emily (a terrific Zoe Kazan), and the two begin a passionate romance before the difference in their cultures drive a wedge in their relationship. When Emily falls mysteriously ill and lands in the hospital, Nanjiani is forced to impulsively sign off on placing her in a medically induced coma. He soon finds himself becoming close to Emily’s parents (Holly Hunter and Ray Romano) and realizes that he needs to find a way to love Emily and overcome the estrangement from his own family.

The challenging material is a change of pace for Showalter, noted for writing comedies such as Wet Hot American Summer. But as last year’s Hello, My Name Is Doris proved, he’s evolving into an accomplished filmmaker. Showalter deftly balances the more dramatic elements of the screenplay with rapid-fire humor and is ably assisted by his talented cast. Nanjiani emerges as a charismatic leading man who capably plays every facet of his filmic self.

As she often does, Hunter steals every scene she’s in. During the Q&A that followed the screening, former sitcom star Romano explained that he was at first intimidated to appear opposite the Oscar-winner. “When you work with Holly, you have to bring out the truth in each scene,” he admitted. “I figured she’d be an intense actor and would scare me. She was intense, but she was also the warmest intense person I’ve ever met.”

Nanjiani and Gordon worked on the screenplay for more than three years before they felt they got it just right. “People deal with very difficult uncomfortable situations, and in this movie these are people who are trying to maintain a sense of humor through something that is excruciatingly painful,” he told the audience. “That’s something we kept coming back to. You try to explore that side of it. It’s the only way to survive.”

Landline

In Gillian Robespierre’s energetic, observant Landline, sisters Dana and Ali (Jenny Slate and newcomer Abby Quinn) navigate 1995 Manhattan with its CD-listening stations, eyebrow rings, rave parties, Lorena Bobbitt headlines and, yes, landline phones, until two affairs threaten their relationship. Dana cheats on her fiancé (Jay Duplass) with an edgier man she knew from college (Finn Wittrock). Meanwhile, Ali has discovered, thanks to a mysterious floppy disk, that her unsuccessful playwright father (John Turturro) has also been stepping out and decides whether to expose his affair to their mother (Edie Falco), a sharp businesswoman with a yen for Hillary Clinton’s power suits.

Introducing Robespierre before her comedy premiered in the U.S. Dramatic Competition Friday, Sundance Film Festival director John Cooper told the audience at the Eccles Theatre that his team was pleased to have her back three years after her Obvious Child (also with Slate) was a breakout hit at the 2014 Festival. “One of the proudest moments for all of us at Sundance is when filmmakers return to us with works that transcend even the great things they did before,” Cooper said. “Gillian is one of those directors who continues to surprise us.”

The director revealed that the idea for Landline grew out of conversations she, Slate, and co-producer/screenwriter Elisabeth Holm had on the road promoting their award-winning 2014 film. “We started talking about our families and how we all grew up in New York City in the ’90s and our parents are divorced,” she explained. “We had a similar experience in that divorce was kind of cool for us in a way and brought our families together. We wanted to make a movie about a family that wasn’t torn apart by divorce.”

As for any hidden significance in the title, Robespierre remarked that it was a way to set the tone of the ’90s before anyone began watching the film. “We all had one for many years and we were tied to it,” she said. “We didn’t have tiny computers in our pockets at all times.”

Robespierre also shared that even with the decision to set the film in the mid-’90s, she and Holm never intended to create a nostalgia piece but rather something more subtle. “When we started writing the movie, we didn’t want to have to rely on Facebook and Instagram as a story device,” she added. “Stalking your loved one is easy to do now.”

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