[Chapter 27: Almost Got Physical]
In a warmly lit room, Alicia stood timidly to the side, wearing a thin silk dress, her eyes darting nervously around.
Charlie placed his hands on his hips. "Affleck, put away that flippant expression. You're a successful big-shot producer! I need you to come across as domineering and tough, but right now, you look like a nervous virgin."
Everyone on set exchanged glances.
Spike and Gore exchanged a look and Spike couldn't help but speak up. "Godfather, Affleck's acting's a bit off. But what I want is that desperate, almost pathological look."
Charlie frowned, pushing Ben aside, and beckoned Alicia over. He removed his suit jacket and tossed it to Mord, revealing his toned muscles. "Come here and work with me; I'll show you what I need."
"Oh!"
"Yes!"
Some crew whistled and cheered.
Affleck and Damon looked confused, and even Spike's crew was momentarily stunned.
They nearly thought Charlie had lost his temper and was about to throw down a violent scene.
But soon, everyone quieted down.
...
Charlie's expression shifted; beneath his calm face, his eyes sparkled sharply. With a swift yet gentle motion, he grabbed Alicia's delicate finger, holding it like a precious piece of art.
The suppressed fury, surging passion, and dominant yet tender vibe radiated instantly.
Alicia was drawn into the moment, staring up blankly, her cheeks flushing rapidly, breathing uneven.
Next, Charlie brushed her aside as though swatting away trash and smiled toward the director, "See, I want a domineering CEO so both male and female audiences can relate. You know, no one fantasizes about some clumsy virgin."
Spike hesitated, saying, "The pathological, semi-crazed male lead would add a high artistic value."
Charlie snapped back, "How high? Like, several floors high? Look, buddy, this is a commercial movie. From promotion to marketing, it won't pull in an arthouse crowd."
"Alright," Spike thought for a moment. "You convinced me. Gotta say, Charlie, your acting blew me away -- felt like an Oscar-winning performance."
Affleck chimed in, "Yeah, Godfather, your performance just now scared me -- like Tom Hanks standing right in front of me."
"Exactly, boss. You're a natural actor!"
Seeing the producer and director cease their argument, applause filled the room.
Charlie smiled ruefully and gestured to resume filming.
...
After several takes to find the right rhythm, the actors began to settle in.
Then Gore swore at the cinematographer, "Damn it, the Leonard dolly's broken again."
Fortunately, the problem was minor -- a wheel malfunction.
...
Half an hour later, the scene shifted. The leads arrived at a huge black marble kitchen island.
Charlie sat behind the living room monitors, making Spike visibly uncomfortable.
Suddenly, both spoke simultaneously, "Hey director, I think..."
"Cut! What's going on?"
Spike turned, surprised; Charlie frowned and gestured for him to check the camera for issues.
"The tripod screws came loose, causing the shot to shake violently. Our Afflex camera nearly hit the floor," the cinematographer said, looking innocent.
Spike looked at Charlie.
Charlie stomped. "Damn it, nasty Fox, what crap did they rent us? What now? We need locked shots -- can we use something else?"
"We have to use it," the cinematographer replied. "Don't worry, I'll fix it pronto."
"Sorry, I should've paid more attention to such details," Charlie sighed and addressed everyone.
"It's okay," Spike chuckled. "Shooting always comes with troubles, and you did great. I almost thought you were some kind of superhero -- now I see you're just human. By the way, what were you about to say?"
Charlie pulled Spike back over and called Gore to review the footage.
"Is there a problem?" Spike asked, puzzled, as did Gore.
"I think locked shots work poorly; actors sometimes appear off-screen, only their voices heard," Charlie said. "This gives viewers a voyeuristic feel. I want the first romantic scene to feel intense and raw, letting the audience truly participate."
After a moment, he suggested, "Maybe handheld shots and moving camera are better."
Spike's eyes widened in surprise. "You've seen Woody Allen's Manhattan?"
"Don't change the subject. We're talking about audience impact -- commercial films need to be straightforward and exciting. Manhattan's just a place in New York, right?"
"It's a movie. Thought you'd seen it. Woody Allen's shooting style is classic."
"Forget Woody Allen. You're not him. Our film's not an arthouse flick, okay?"
Spike threw up his hands. "You brought up Manhattan first! I thought you knew cinematography, but turns out you're just a savvy producer."
"You mentioned Manhattan, then I talked about the shot issues."
"Then you asked me again!"
"No need to answer -- can we focus on the issue?"
"You ask, I answer!"
"Fine. Forget technical crap. I think the shot placement's off."
"I think it's fine."
"I'm the producer."
"I'm the director!"
Their voices rose, glaring fiercely at each other, on the verge of throwing punches.
The crew froze, silent and scared to speak.
...
Nearby, Matt Damon hunched on a sofa, quietly whispering to a trembling Alicia, "Godfather gonna shoot Spike?"
"I don't know," Alicia gave a forced smile worse than crying.
Affleck sighed. "Godfather's clearly no director, but his eye catches cinematic flaws. He knows a lot."
"What now? Director and producer fights are common, right?"
...
Suddenly, Charlie burst into laughter, red-faced. "Damn, what are we doing? Sorry, guys, maybe too many shoot problems got me edgy. Haven't been emotional like this in ages."
Spike hugged Charlie lightly and chuckled. "It's okay. I was tense too. Proves you're human, not the superhero people think. Everyone thought you were invincible -- everyone has feelings. Honestly, I was scared you'd shoot me."
"Haha, no way. I might be a superhero, not a maniac."
Spike smiled, "Clearly! Superheroes get fragile sometimes. I accept your apology."
He then turned serious. "But Charlie, I'm the director. You shouldn't interfere with my work. Let's discuss any other issues after the shoot."
Charlie was no fool. He immediately raised his hands in surrender. "Yes, sorry. I just want our movie to be great. I won't boss around anymore. But remember the strategy we agreed on."
"No problem!" Spike nodded quickly. "I'll adjust and listen to the cinematographer and Gore."
Charlie nodded, then looked around and loudly addressed everyone, "Sorry for causing trouble earlier. I'm a producer, not a director or DP. Bossing around leads to chaos. Everyone calls me Godfather, but that doesn't mean I'm a tyrant who only cares about power. To apologize, I'm renting this mansion 3 extra hours. After filming, we'll throw a pool party here."
"Godfather!"
"Godfather!"
"Nice job, Godfather. Next time you two fight, I volunteer to punch the director first."
"I like you, Godfather -- you're a real producer."
The crew and actors applauded and cheered, spirits soaring.
The vibe on set changed instantly.
At that moment, Kevin whispered, "Boss, Weinstein's here."
"Alright!" Charlie frowned but waved and smiled to the crew, then called Gert and Melche to head outside with him.
*****
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