My permanent impression when watching them run around, each of them with their slice of creation, was that making a film is about building a second reality, as you imagine it. Some people build it in their head, these guys built it for real.
The only problem was that the true reality always tried to come out. People didn't get along, people didn't want to work anymore, film was unsharf, objects were not what they seemed, the doors were nailed, the salad was polystyrene, the light was fake, the table cloth was full of holes, drawers were missing, ceiling was missing, the actor's right hand wasn't his, he wasn't alone in his room, he was surrounded by ten other people, the books were all antiquarian stuff nobody would buy, the magazines were 4 years old, vomit was water or coke, the cabinet doors had no glass, the drawings were yellow xerox copies.
Now try to keep all that together, so it wouldn't show. It was like they were all pulling invisible strings, their faces turning red, trying to make their reality cover the old one completely.
I was the only real thing there.
5 comments:
...and so, the porcelain horse survived inspite of Matrix-killer-mayo
Neo, is that you?
this is the best post of the horse nobody seemed to care about.
he must be a real post modern writer!
go, go, go HORSY!
Yes, but you had a pretty big team there, so I think it was ok. I mean, i think there was always someone there to put out the fire, in case anything happened. That's team work, baby!
Cat de tare e poza!!!
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