Chapter 46: A Bit Challenging

As directed by Brian De Palma, the staff randomly picked one of the copies of "Run Lola Run" and loaded it into the projector. Everyone's gaze turned towards the big screen on the wall as the film began.

The first image on the screen, after the clapperboard, was an empty shot.

From a fixed overhead perspective, bright golden sunlight streamed through a window adorned with two half-drawn bamboo blinds. The strong light highlighted patterns on the blinds, a Barbie doll in the corner, and a bouquet of withered flowers on the windowsill, all contributing to a quiet and perfectly harmonious atmosphere.

The merits of a film shot are typically judged based on composition, color, and camera movement.

The shot in question, in terms of composition, color, and lighting, clearly met an impeccable standard.

Everyone in the screening room was cinema-savvy, and though no actor's performance was visible initially, the mere simplicity of this empty shot drew silent praise from all: beautiful.

This stationary empty shot lasted for about 5 seconds and was repeated three times.

Following this, the second shot was also an empty one.

However, this time it wasn't stationary but slowly moved forward.

In the frame, there was a photo of Lola and her boyfriend with a heart-shaped red card, along with various scattered items on the table. The lighting and composition were equally remarkable.

The third shot, though still empty, brought movement into the frame.

The hem of Lola's green plaid pants was on the left, a black beer bottle on the right, and in between, a turtle slowly crawled across. Compared to the first two shots, this one was more interesting, subtly conveying a sense of restlessness.

By this point, it became clear to the audience that these were a series of consecutive empty shots.

Yet, each of the three shots had entirely different compositions, all filled with imagination and reflecting the creator's profound aesthetic skill.

After the series of empty shots, Lola herself finally appeared on screen.

Seeing Lola's striking combination of fiery red hair, blue tank top, and green pants—a color style almost cartoonish in its boldness—was a surprise to those first encountering this film. Such avant-garde character design was rare in Hollywood films. However, the preceding flawless empty shots had already shaped this uniqueness as innovation.

The original film prints naturally came without sound.

For more than two minutes, the silent footage continued to play, eliciting varied reactions from the viewers.

Ron McMullen, the producer of "Run Lola Run," was by now completely reassured. Having been in Hollywood for many years, he could easily discern the quality of the footage, which was infinitely better than even the best scenario he had imagined.

Clearly, Simon's unusual directing style over the past few days wasn't mere pretension—it was a display of exceptional filmmaking talent from a gifted young filmmaker.

Catherine Bigelow had seen Simon's extraordinary talents on various occasions and had always been confident in him. She was now simply enjoying the sample reel along with everyone else.

David Geffen's thought was brief: he had indeed not misjudged the young man.

As for Brian De Palma.

In the room, he was likely the one with the highest professional expertise.

Robert Redford and Catherine Bigelow, although they had some directing experience, were relatively green in this area.

As a professional, Brian grew increasingly astonished as the footage played.

After Simon had turned down working with Orion, Brian had not withdrawn his offer to be the executive producer of "Run Lola Run," because he truly admired this young filmmaker.

However, Brian had his concerns.

It was common in the film industry for screenwriters to turn into directors, usually through a gradual process.

Simon had just begun to gain Hollywood's attention as a screenwriter and was already eager to direct—a decision Brian thought was unwise.

Despite his promise, if "Run Lola Run" turned out to be a disaster, Brian would not allow his name to appear in the film's credits.

But now, Brian was completely relieved of his initial worries.

The first empty shot on the screen had earned a very high evaluation from Brian.

Technically, strong backlighting can easily result in lens flare or haziness if not handled properly, but Simon's shots showed none of these issues.

If it had been just one perfect shot, it wouldn't have been so notable. However, a series of backlight shots of Lola talking on the phone, technically impeccable in every aspect, was truly exceptional.

Moreover, Brian was very positive about the film's warm yellow color tone chosen by Simon, a palette that could make the audience feel relaxed and comfortable, enhancing the cinematic feel.

Additionally, the diverse filming techniques in the four-and-a-half-minute sample reel from the film also showcased Simon's excellent directorial skills. Particularly, the last tracking shot that followed Lola running out of the room towards her mother's bedroom and then shifting to the TV was impressively dynamic.

Yet.

All of this was not what surprised Brian De

 Palma the most.

Just as the four-and-a-half-minute sample reel ended, Brian asked Ron McMullen, somewhat uncertainly: "Ron, has this sample been color-graded already?"

In the era of film, due to variations in lighting, sets, and even the quality of the film stock itself, each shot in a movie could appear differently in terms of color and exposure. Thus, after a film was edited, a colorist would typically adjust each shot to ensure uniform color settings before it was sent to the lab for processing.

Moreover, most films generally underwent at least three rounds of color grading to achieve the final screen effect.

It's easy to imagine, for a film with thousands of shots, how intricate the coloring process would be. Yet, even many years later in the digital era, no film could skip this complex coloring process.

But.

Just now.

Brian De Palma had noticed that the four-and-a-half-minute sample reel of "Run Lola Run," despite containing many different shots, did not exhibit much noticeable variance in exposure or color tone between them.

Although all shots belonged to the same scene, each was distinct in color and lighting. Thus, achieving such uniformity in color and exposure across over twenty shots without any color grading was nothing short of miraculous.

Ron McMullen, upon hearing Brian's sudden question, paused, puzzled: "Mr. De Palma, isn't color grading supposed to be done after editing?"

As the two discussed, David Geffen, who had been talking to Robert Redford about the last tracking shot, suddenly realized something, looked at the now darkened screen, and quickly turned to the projector operator: "Play that sample reel again."

The screen lit up once more.

With their attention refocused, the viewers noticed some color differences between the shots upon rewatching.

However, everyone had to admit, these differences were minimal.

If not for the clapperboard marking the start of each shot, the entire sample reel felt nearly indistinguishable from a completed film.

It was conceivable that if all shots in the film reached this standard, the movie might only need a very simple color correction post-editing to achieve perfect cinematic quality.

Had there ever been a mainstream Hollywood film that only needed one round of color grading to reach the final product?

Yes.

That film was "The Godfather."

However, "The Godfather" was shot by Gordon Willis, a top Hollywood cinematographer skilled in both lighting and set design. Moreover, the reason it only underwent one color grading session was partly due to rushed production timelines, aside from the outstanding quality of the shots.

Now, a low-budget debut film, based solely on the quality of its sample reel shots, suggested it might only need one simple color correction to achieve the final film quality.

How could this not be considered a miracle?

After the four-and-a-half-minute sample reel ended, David Geffen immediately instructed the staff to play several other sample reels.

Twenty minutes later.

As the screen in the screening room darkened again, everyone fell silent for a moment.

Then, Robert Redford turned directly to Ron McMullen, his tone clearly urgent: "Ron, introduce me to the cinematographer, lighting director, and set designer of this film. I must invite them to join my next project."

Hearing Robert Redford's words, David Geffen and Brian De Palma also looked towards Ron McMullen.

Such exceptional behind-the-scenes talent was not something they wanted to miss. Both had been busy with "The Butterfly Effect" and were not very familiar with the details of "Run Lola Run."

Ron McMullen, feeling the intense gaze of the three big names, couldn't help but twitch his mouth.

This request.

Was a bit challenging.

The cinematographer was also the director.

The set design, apparently, was also handled by the director.

As for the lighting director.

Well.

Who was that again?