"Cut!"
Michelle's voice came through the walkie-talkie.
The villa door burst open, and a group of crew members rushed out onto the beach. They held large, warm blankets, quickly wrapping Anson and Kate, the two actors, tightly.
Anson didn't take time to tend to himself. His first reaction was to reach out and pull Kate up from the snow, brushing the snowflakes off her as he gave her a concerned look.
"Are you okay?"
Kate nodded, reassuring him. "Honestly, I'm a bit warm now. I think I put on too many heating patches. Oh, Jesus Christ, your fingers—are you okay?"
Anson released his right hand and brought both hands together, blowing warm air into his palms, trying to thaw his fingertips.
Kate quickly pulled a heating patch from her pocket and stuffed it into Anson's hand. "Hey, someone! Anson needs something hot! Hot cocoa, hot coffee, hot wine—yes, yes, yes, a bit of alcohol. His body temperature is dropping fast."
Before she finished speaking, Noah appeared in front of Anson with a steaming cup of hot cocoa, staring intently at Anson's pale face. "Anson, I added a little vodka."
Anson didn't hesitate, taking the cocoa and sipping it quickly.
The scorching warmth slid down his throat, hitting his stomach, and slowly his cold, stiff organs began to stir. It felt like he could hear ice cubes clinking inside him. His fingertips, toes, and knees tingled as they started to thaw.
At the moment, the Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind crew was filming on a beach, likely the Atlantic coast of Montauk, on the northwest tip of New York.
Don't get it wrong—Anson loved the ocean. He was a complete "ocean person." Given a choice between forests, mountains, and the sea, he would always choose the sea.
Montauk, with its lonely, desolate landscape, felt like the edge of the world. A solitary lighthouse stood quietly at the deserted cape, and it was hard to imagine that just a few hours' drive away lay one of the busiest cities in the world.
Silent, ancient.
Standing on the beach, gazing at the lighthouse, the world seemed to quiet down.
It was the kind of scene perfect for contemplation—a secret corner to think.
The first time Anson saw it, he fell in love with the place. He could understand why Charlie Kaufman's script set the story in Montauk.
There was a sort of melancholy, a feeling of outcasts huddling together for warmth, closely connected by their sadness and loneliness.
The scenery was stunning.
But visiting a beach on the Atlantic side in the dead of winter? That was another story entirely. It was Anson's first time seeing the ocean in winter, and he finally understood the endless, inescapable cold described in Manchester by the Sea.
Cold—that was one thing. The temperature was ten degrees below freezing, and the wind chill likely pushed it past minus twenty. But the wetness, the biting wind—standing outside, facing the sea, it was almost impossible to breathe.
The fierce winds felt like knives slashing his face. Even through thick layers of clothing, any small gap became an entry point for the piercing cold, silently draining his body heat.
He was chilled to the bone.
And then, the dreadful weather—
Heavy snow, thick and relentless. If it were just snowing, it wouldn't be so bad, but every so often, the snow would turn into rain, sharp and cutting like daggers.
Not only physical attacks—magical ones, too.
Being outside was a test. His numb, frozen brain could no longer think, and even breathing was hard. Yet now, he had to stand in the wind and freezing rain for a long time, filming?
Impossible.
It was pure torture.
But that's the charm of shooting on location.
In a studio, even with set designers and post-production effects creating a picturesque winter wonderland, the actors couldn't fully experience the harsh conditions if they were in sunny California. Their performances could never fully capture the authenticity of the environment.
Only on location, immersed in the elements, could their bodies respond naturally. Blending the external world with their internal emotions allowed them to enter the film's world and portray genuine reactions.
And that was exactly what was happening now.
The Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind crew was filming in Montauk, shooting critical scenes from the movie—
Some were memories, some were fabrications, and others were reality.
The crew would be staying here for at least a week, possibly longer.
Montauk was being quite "cooperative," starting with light snowfall on the third day, followed by some rain on the fifth day—horrible weather, but perfect for the film's story.
In Anson's memory, beaches were always associated with sunshine, palm trees, tropical vibes, and vacations. But now, for the first time, he saw a snow-covered beach—snow and the sea. It was a completely different scene.
Today, the crew was filming a scene where Joel and Clementine played in the snow on the beach.
In the first scene, Charlie Kaufman's script had them waking up in a bed on the beach, mixing dream and reality in a surreal way.
In the second scene, Joel and Clementine had a snowball fight, though more accurately, Clementine was trying to play, while Joel was searching for "a corner of his memory where no one could find Clementine and erase her."
It was a comedy for one and a tragedy for the other, one playing, the other running away.
In the first scene, both wore pajamas under the covers, but with no walls or roof, the wind came from every direction. Even wrapped in blankets, the cold could easily penetrate.
Naturally, to ensure Kate, who was pregnant, stayed warm, the crew had put in a lot of effort.
Overall, it wasn't too bad.
In the second scene, they were playing, but Kate couldn't move too much, so Anson had to take on most of the responsibility, using his performance to express the emotions and plot.
So, Kate was bundled up in layers, staying warm.
Anson, on the other hand, for the sake of movement, only wore thermal underwear underneath his parka, so he could move more freely.
Once he started moving, the icy wind made him feel like a popsicle.
He was cold—so cold he couldn't think.
Turns out, making movies wasn't as glamorous as it seemed.
As Anson and Kate ran around outside with the cameraman, the director and the rest of the crew stayed warm inside the villa, watching the monitors.
No comparison, no pain.
Anson clutched the hot cocoa Noah handed him, taking one sip after another. After a few sips, his fingertips finally regained some feeling.
"I think I finally understand why so many people in Hollywood turn to alcohol," he muttered.