Mónica almost instinctively raised her hand to cover her mouth, and in the next second, her scream was choked within her palm. Wide-eyed, she stared at the darkness before her in disbelief as the flicker of blackened firelight extinguished once again. The entire warehouse plunged back into darkness. She couldn't even see the outline of the coffin. However... tears welled up in her eyes rapidly, and overwhelming emotions completely overwhelmed her, nearly causing her to retch from suffocation.
It was unimaginable, even when experienced firsthand, it remained unimaginable.
Just by altering the rhythm of breath, just by the sounds of physical collision, just by the sounds from the depths of the throat, the agonizing struggle of being in a dire situation was presented vividly, profoundly moving the soul of every observer. Before realizing it, they had been transported into that world, as if they were trapped in a coffin themselves, as if they were facing danger. Everything was so vivid that emotions began to spiral out of control.
Hot tears moistened the back of her hand, startling Mónica. She couldn't even remember the last time she had shed tears. Yet just now, she truly couldn't control it. Before she realized it, tears had streamed down her cheeks.
"Cut!"
Rodrigo's voice sounded a beat late, echoing through the spacious warehouse like a drifting waterweed, somewhat eerie. But eventually, it brought everyone back to their senses.
The lights were half a beat late in turning on. A faint yellow halo slowly dissipated the darkness. The warehouse gradually brightened, dragging everyone slowly from the cinematic story back to the real world. The transition from fantasy to reality left them all disoriented and uneasy. They averted their eyes, hiding their disarray, along with their inner fears.
The despair that followed the brief illumination of the lighter had cruelly and bloodily strangled the nascent hope. The shock it brought was etched deeply into everyone's memory. Seeing the light now made them want to flee.
Mónica swiftly turned around, wiping the tears from her cheeks and concealing her disarray, then hurriedly walked to the side to hide.
Eduard's mouth hung open, wanting to say something, but he found all words stuck in his throat—pale, feeble, and lacking. At that moment, the stark reality felt like a blade slicing across his skin, causing all his hair to stand on end. He wished he could turn and run, yet his body remained rooted in place. It was as if he was trapped within that coffin, suffocated by panic and the fear of death, his throat tightly gripped, and his heart pounding.
Suddenly, he recalled Renly's behavior before the shooting started. Renly had been sitting quietly in place, gazing at a page of the script, not turning it for nearly an hour.
What was on the first page of the script again? His memory became somewhat hazy because there was almost no content on the first page. His heart suddenly clenched. Eduard turned swiftly, searching for his script, but his steps were unsteady, almost causing him to stumble. The surging blood made his muscles somewhat uncontrollable.
Found it!
Eduard's hands trembled as he opened the script, revealing the first page.
[
(In the darkness, Paul gradually regained consciousness, finding the lighter in his hand and igniting it.)
(Paul removed the cloth stuffed in his mouth, surveying the coffin.)
Paul: Help! Help!
...
]
That was all. Just those few lines. A mere two sentences, or to be more precise, what they had just filmed was merely the first sentence. Yet, the conveyed effect was... so shocking!
Without the director's shot scheduling, no assistance from the lighting crew, and no editor's touch, there was just one continuous shot, encapsulating all the weight on the actors' shoulders. And Renly, the young man who didn't even appear fully matured, had given a performance that was brilliant beyond words—methodical, nuanced, and structurally clear. In under two minutes, he had managed to create a tsunami of emotion.
Eduard shut his eyes and began to shiver, like dry leaves in an autumn breeze. He could feel every ounce of Paul's emotions in that dire situation, coursing through him down to his very marrow. The moment the darkness fell, he instinctively began to succumb to fear.
Now, Eduard finally understood what Renly had been doing before shooting commenced. The repeated readings, the endless contemplation, the ceaseless pondering—it had all transformed a neatly written line into a magnificent reality. This was the true essence of turning the ordinary into something magical!
Raising his head, Eduard's gaze appeared rather vacant. He was just an ordinary photographer. Prior to this, he had worked on two films that had hardly made an impact, collaborating mainly with local Spanish actors. He had never truly experienced the power of cinema nor witnessed the raw strength of performance. And now, he felt somewhat adrift.
Finally, Eduard's gaze settled on Rodrigo. He tried to speak, but his throat was parched. After swallowing his saliva twice, he called out, "Rodrigo."
Rodrigo's face was radiant, his eyes gleaming with vitality, brimming with the excitement and elation of sunlight.
"Is it because of this that you chose him as the male lead?" Eduard already knew the answer deep inside, yet he couldn't resist asking. The cast members had all read the script, so they understood the pivotal role the male lead played in this work.
Rodrigo grinned, "No, in fact, his performance today far exceeded my expectations." Rodrigo savored it for a moment. Compared to their previous meeting in New York, Renly's performance today had an intangible quality. He couldn't quite describe it, nor was he sure if it was due to the enclosed experience from earlier. However, he was certain that the forthcoming shooting would be even more highly anticipated. "Do you know? He voluntarily came to audition."
Rodrigo himself couldn't pinpoint the source of his pride and satisfaction, but his spirits were undeniably lifted.
"Rodrigo?" A muffled voice emanated from within the wooden box, interrupting Rodrigo and Eduard's conversation. Instantly, everyone in the warehouse turned their gaze.
Rodrigo quickly walked over. The first scene required utilizing the reverberations of breath and the cramped space, so the lid of the wooden box was covered. However, its bottom was completely open. Furthermore, to facilitate the camera's capture, the box was slightly tilted, and a mound of soil lay beneath, allowing Renly's feet to push against it and gain leverage.
Rodrigo arrived at the box's rear, squatting down as he inquired, "Renly?"
"How did the filming go just now?" Renly inquired, opening his mouth. Ideally, Renly would have liked to watch from behind the monitor, but climbing in and out of the box was too troublesome, and he needed to maintain his focused state. Therefore, he abandoned the thought of fiddling with it.
Rodrigo paused for a moment, only then realizing that he hadn't reviewed the previous shot. "Wait a moment, I need to confirm this again," he said somewhat embarrassed. He had been so absorbed by the shock and amazement that he even forgot his directorial duties.
He quickly got up and approached the monitor, ready to review. Unexpectedly, others also rushed over, fixated on the movements on the screen.
Two minutes, one hundred and twenty seconds—for a long take, this was quite lengthy and might even seem dull. However, the reality was different. The performance flowed seamlessly, capturing the essence of the story without any waste or redundancy. The acting filled the narrative with substance yet avoided exaggeration, guiding the audience into the story with precision, neither excessive nor devoid of tension.
Flawless.
Rodrigo realized for the first time that acting wasn't just about lines, expressions, or actions. Every detail about a person could become part of the performance. Especially in the final shot of this opening performance, the dilated pupils contained an incredible power. They cut off budding hopes with ruthless precision, cruel enough to plunge one into despair, rendering them unable to muster any resistance.
A mere glance had transformed the world.
In such a challenging scene, Renly not only carried out a single shot but also added depth to it. Rodrigo imagined that in the upcoming scenes, as Paul struggled for survival, the audience's attention would inevitably follow every move he made, creating a rising and falling tension that had already been set up. Incredible! Truly incredible!
"Perfect!" Rodrigo exclaimed loudly. He rifled through his mind for words but couldn't capture the essence of his excitement. Eventually, he could only repeat, "Perfect!"
Renly's muffled voice emanated from within the wooden box, "Very well, I'm prepared to continue shooting."
"Oh, right, right," Rodrigo nodded repeatedly, clapped his hands to draw everyone's attention, and declared, "The second scene, let's start the second scene now."
Everyone began bustling again, yet they noticed that Eduard was still standing in the same spot. Rodrigo had to approach and tap his shoulder to snap him out of it. Eduard seemed somewhat absent-minded. However, after adjusting his breath, he was suddenly filled with energy. He immediately threw himself into work, undergoing a complete transformation from his previous state. He became proactive and full of initiative.
Eduard walked to the side of the wooden box and lowered his voice, saying, "I'm sorry... please forgive my rudeness earlier." He paused for a moment. "In any case, I apologize." With that, Eduard turned and hurried away.
With preparations in place, Rodrigo turned his head, intending to instruct everyone to stay quiet. Yet, he noticed that everyone had voluntarily retreated about ten paces away, fearing their breathing might disrupt the shooting. Simultaneously, they all closed their mouths tightly, eagerly watching the serene wooden box.
A smile unconsciously crept onto Rodrigo's lips. He had a premonition that the upcoming shooting would go exceptionally smoothly. "July 15th, the first scene of "Buried", the first attempt."