The Greatest Showman #1105 - Repeated Tricks

"Wow."

Renly couldn't help but let out an involuntary exclamation as Matt-Kasmir, who was helping to secure him in place, paused his movements. "Why? Is it too tight? Does it hurt?"

"I don't feel any pain, but I can definitely feel the pressure now that my bones are constricted. Is this normal?" Renly responded, explaining his sensations. The straps on his chest were tight, and he could feel a heaviness, almost as if his chest were being squeezed.

"Yes, that's normal," Matt affirmed with a nod. "Is your breathing still smooth? If the pressure is too much, just say so, and we'll stop."

Matt adjusted the tightening straps again, ensuring Renly was as comfortable as possible. "We need to secure your limbs completely. This way, when the basket turns, nothing will loosen or cause any accidents. It's also essential to ensure that the shooting angles remain precise."

Renly, now accustomed to the demands of filmmaking, raised a relevant question. "But what about body movements during the performance? How do they work?"

Matt, realizing Renly's concern, nodded thoughtfully. "In some scenes, the risk of injury from excessive twisting or movement—particularly in the arms or legs—is too great. In these cases, we focus on your performance, and leave the rest to the computer effects."

Renly, recalling the special effects used in Children of Men, made the connection. "So, you mean my body might be entirely rendered by computer effects?"

"Exactly," Matt confirmed. "In some shots, it might be just one leg or part of your body. In others, only your head might be real. The rest will be handled by post-production special effects."

Renly nodded slowly, but his mind was still processing the weight of it all.

He now fully understood the sensation of being strapped into the suit. Hands, feet, chest, waist, ankles—everything was immobilized, leaving him completely still. Even the spacesuit, heavy and confining, added to the sense of being trapped. Layers of restriction seemed to close in, and despite his smooth breathing, there was a faint feeling of breathlessness, as if the air were growing heavier.

"How do you feel?" Rooney asked, standing beside the basket with a curious expression. "Will being in this condition affect the rhythm of your performance?"

Renly, lighthearted despite the circumstances, replied, "Now I'm sure, I'm really not into the whole bundling thing."

The staff outside the lightbox chuckled, and even Rooney couldn't help but laugh, shaking her head. "Seems like the impact's not as big as expected," she remarked.

Renly glanced around but couldn't see Alfonso anywhere, his limited field of vision making it hard to spot him. "Director, do you shoot every scene like this?"

When shooting Buried Alive, the confined space of the coffin had allowed for more movement, but this was different. He was now fully immobile, and it created an entirely different dynamic for his performance.

"No," Alfonso answered, appearing at Renly's side. "Only a few scenes require you to be completely still like this. In most cases, only your chest, waist, and hips will be restrained while your limbs remain free."

Renly nodded, relieved. "In that case, shall we run the camera and test it out?"

"Sure," Alfonso agreed.

The test began.

The IRIS robotic arm, resembling something out of Transformers, whirred to life, its movements swift and precise. Two fixed cameras on either side of the basket powered up, their green lights glowing. Renly could tell that cameras had been set up all around, capturing every angle simultaneously.

The sensation was surreal. It felt like he was part of a reality show, with cameras capturing everything from every angle, leaving no room to escape. This constant surveillance began to make him feel increasingly invisible, even though he was at the center of attention.

A creeping sense of discomfort began to settle in, and Renly could feel a rising panic, though he couldn't pinpoint its cause. Perhaps it was the simultaneous activation of all the cameras, which made him feel as if his performance lacked focus. Or maybe it was the immobility, the way his body was locked in place while the action unfolded around him.

He pushed the panic aside, closed his eyes, and focused on regulating his breathing. "When would all the cameras be on?" Renly asked aloud. "Under what conditions would we focus on only one specific camera?"

Alfonso began to explain, walking Renly through the concepts of shooting in weightless environments, gradually guiding him through the different angles and camera moves involved.

As the explanation unfolded, Renly found himself engaged, asking questions and participating in the conversation. It was clear that the shooting of Gravity would be a complex challenge, one that required actors to adjust their performances based on varying shooting techniques. The difference in lighting, movement, and camera trajectory meant that each scene could have a unique set of demands.

Yet, at the core of it all, performance remained the key. It was the actor's understanding and perception that would bring the scene to life.

The voices of Rooney and Alfonso continued to echo around him, but at one point, the chatter stopped.

"Renly?" Rooney's voice broke through, her tone filled with concern. "Are you okay? You haven't spoken in a while. Are you uncomfortable?"

Renly had drifted into his own thoughts, and Rooney's voice brought him back. Alfonso noticed the silence as well and turned to look at him.

"I'm fine," Renly said, offering a reassuring smile. "I was just thinking about how the space environment affects emotions."

Loneliness, fear, grandeur, and despair—how do these emotions manifest in space? How did Ryan Stone evolve through her trials and tribulations?

Without firsthand experience, Renly couldn't know for sure, but he was certain this would be different from Buried Alive.

For Buried Alive, he had locked himself in a coffin for hours, a dark, suffocating experience. It had been painful, but Renly was willing to go through it again. Now, he wanted to experience space, but without the possibility of actually being in space—NASA's vomit comet, while capable of creating weightlessness, was not something they could arrange in time.

The noise in the studio grew quieter as Renly's question lingered in the air. No one could answer it. Yet, there was a strange sense of camaraderie.

"We can watch documentaries or talk to astronauts," Alfonso said with a shrug, "but none of us have actually been in space. It's hard to know what it's really like."

Renly smiled at the challenge, then took a deep breath. "That's the job of an actor," he said, his voice light. "Anyway, is this tool still needed for anything else today? Can I stay here for a while?"

Alfonso turned to Timothy, looking uncertain. "What do you mean, stay here?"

"I mean, stay in this position," Renly clarified. "Not for an hour or two, but maybe ten hours, twelve hours? I want to really get a feel for what it's like to be in space for a long time, to feel that isolation and start talking to myself..."

Renly's words hung in the air, and the room fell into an uncomfortable silence. Alfonso, Timothy, and the rest stood there, unsure how to proceed.

Rooney, after a pause, spoke up. "Renly means he wants to experience the psychological and emotional changes of being in a confined space, alone, for an extended period."

Everyone turned their attention to her, and she met Renly's eyes. "He wants to stay in the suit and feel the isolation, to see how the mind and body react."

"Yes, that's exactly it," Renly said, finally feeling understood. "Sorry, Rooney, looks like you're on hold for now."

Rooney shrugged, unbothered. "Don't worry about me. You'll be out soon, and then it's my turn."

Alfonso, still uneasy, glanced between Renly and Rooney. "Are you sure about this? I don't think it's a good idea."

Renly, however, was resolute. "Yes, I'm sure."