Settling the mess

James Currier looked at Nathan, who was burning with anger before him. He inexplicably felt the urge to flee in the face of this raging fire. After a struggle, he managed to suppress the thought of turning around and running away. He composed himself and spoke seriously, "I will investigate this thoroughly and punish those responsible."

Nathan's voice was decisive, leaving no room for negotiation. Upon just learning that someone had secretly replaced the iron plates in three locations with authentic materials, Nathan erupted in fury.

Once again, it had happened.

Last time, they had merely kept Renly waiting for three and a half hours. But this time, they had directly swapped the props. What about the next time?

In the past, during the filming of "The Crow", a prop department staff's mistake had led to a real bullet being fired from a prop gun, resulting in the death of Brandon Lee during filming.

"This is murder." Nathan was so agitated that his entire body trembled. After reaching the pinnacle of anger, there was no need for catharsis. His words landed like heavy blows, each one hitting James like a hammer.

James wanted to defend himself, but under Nathan's piercing gaze, he swallowed his words. "Thirty minutes. You have thirty minutes to conduct an investigation. The production team must provide an explanation to Renly. Otherwise, SAG will get involved." His words were concise and resolute, displaying an unprecedented firmness.

Things had spiraled out of control. If it was just Andy's prank, it would be too mild. This wasn't a mere prank; it was genuine bodily harm. Regardless of who was behind it and their reasons, this matter wouldn't be resolved easily.

Termination? That was just the first step!

James felt deeply frustrated. When did an unknown assistant gain the authority to speak to him like this? Yet he couldn't retort; he could only hang his head in vexation, grinding his teeth. Who were these fools who couldn't see the consequences? They had walked right into the firing line.

If nothing unexpected occurred, his career in Hollywood was about to come to an end. No production team would dare to employ such staff.

But that wasn't the main issue. The main issue was that once the matter reached the union or leaked to the media, the reputation of the production team, prop department, and even the entire crew would suffer. They would be criticized for poor hiring practices and lax management. Even Ron Meyer would explode in anger. It seemed this time, Vin Diesel was in for a major setback.

However, James wasn't concerned about Vin right now; he needed to worry about himself. He sincerely prayed that Renly would be fine, absolutely fine. And there should be no scars on his face. Otherwise, just thinking about the media frenzy that would follow sent shivers down James' spine.

Damn prop department!

Chaos engulfed the entire crew. The prop department was thoroughly investigating the recent "accident", while the camera and directing teams were reevaluating the filming of the scene. The medical team was on its way to examine the two actors.

Paul Walker stood in place, watching as Renly was surrounded by a crowd. Nurses were examining Renly's external injuries to ensure they wouldn't get infected, while doctors were checking for signs of a concussion. But where was Renly's attention?

Renly held a cigarette in his mouth, cooperating with the doctor's examination. Yet, amidst his every gesture and movement, there was an air of serene contentment. This brought Paul's mind back to the time when Renly hung on a cliff, just like he had back then. This time, as before, Paul stood dumbfounded on the sidelines, witnessing Renly's extraordinary performance. There was admiration and envy mixed in his heart, though he knew he could never achieve the same.

The familiarity of the scene made Paul shake his head involuntarily, and a faint smile tugged at the corners of his lips.

"So, you're not planning to light that cigarette, are you?" After the doctors and nurses moved away, Paul stepped forward and spoke. Though his mood was still somewhat heavy, he had managed to regain his composure compared to earlier.

Renly shrugged, neither confirming nor denying.

"What did the doctor say during the examination?" Paul asked with concern.

"I'm fine, everything's fine," Renly answered casually, still keeping his eyes closed, appearing as if he was enjoying a restful moment. "It's just a minor scrape. You're a stunt performer, you should know better than me that this is normal during filming. I haven't broken any bones or lost consciousness. No need to make a fuss."

Paul chuckled in spite of himself, unable to retort. He said helplessly, "The filming just now was different." When they were shooting fight scenes, they wouldn't go all out like this. The truly dangerous parts were usually left to the professional stunt performers.

A faint smile tugged at the corner of Renly's mouth, and even the cigarette hanging from his lips seemed to lift slightly. "Compared to free solo climbing, this is much simpler."

Paul could only laugh wryly. "You don't need to go to such extremes. It's just a movie."

"At least that guy won't dare to mess with me again," Renly's nonchalant remark left Paul thinking for a moment before realizing.

Turning his head, he saw Vin sitting at the makeup table. The doctor had just finished the examination, and Vin appeared somewhat dazed. The anger and restlessness from before had disappeared. He even seemed a bit bewildered, lost in thought.

As he shifted his gaze, Paul observed Renly who looked utterly relaxed. If it weren't for the disinfectant-treated wound on his cheek, still stained with blood, he could almost believe that Renly was basking in the sun, enjoying a vacation.

The stark contrast made Paul chuckle softly. "Renly, do you know? You're truly insane."

"Thanks for the compliment," Renly's response was as usual, causing Paul to burst into laughter. He knew Vin was no longer a threat. However, nobody could have foreseen that Renly would resolve the situation in such a direct manner. Paul guessed that no one could calculate the extent of the psychological shadow that Vin was under now.

"In the filming just now, which parts were designed by the martial arts choreographer, and which parts weren't?" Paul, being an insider, could discern slight differences. Both Renly and Vin had slightly deviated from the originally planned trajectory.

Renly answered casually, "Does that matter?"

Paul laughed softly once again. Indeed, it didn't matter. What mattered was that Renly and Vin had filmed an irreplicable classic showdown, one that was bound to explode on the big screen.

But for the martial arts choreographer, it was crucial.

Faced with the director's questions, he was just as puzzled, wearing a look of innocence, utterly bewildered. How had that scene been filmed? How much of it had followed the planned trajectory, and how much had been an unconventional result? Countless question marks clouded his mind. Watching the director walk away with a mix of regret and frustration, he raised his hand slightly, attempting to call the director back to offer further explanation. But his voice caught in his throat; he couldn't utter a single word.

Tears streamed down his face.

Justin returned to the side of the monitor, watching the playback on the screen, deep in thought. Eventually, he shook his head. "It can't be replicated. This scene is too unique, impossible to recreate successfully." Justin looked around and then lowered his voice. "Even if it could be replicated, I wouldn't want to risk it." Going through that again, his heart might give out.

"But we need close-ups and inserts. Editing with just the wide shots won't suffice." The cameraman standing nearby voiced his concerns. "Did you notice? Did you see Renly's performance? At the last moment, Hobbs had a chance to kill Dominic, yet a hint of clarity flashed in Hobbs' eyes."

"And in the final showdown, Hobbs swung the wrench elsewhere, but his gaze didn't waver. It shows that deep down, he aimed at the space beside him. For Hobbs' character, this is truly remarkable. That's Renly's performance. My God, I don't know how he did it, but if we capture it merely in medium shots, the audience might easily overlook it. It'd be a huge loss for the film."

Justin nodded in agreement. Renly had brought so many surprises, and the brutal duel just now had already set adrenaline levels soaring. Yet, the surprises were far from over.

Justin's shooting style and editing characteristics were sharp. He needed a variety of angles and shots to combine and elevate the pace of the fights and car chases, creating a heated atmosphere. He didn't favor Michael Bay's excessive slow-motion and long shots.

So, the scene just now primarily utilized medium, wide, and establishing shots to capture the entire fight sequence in one go, emphasizing the overall sense. This shot was flawless. However, Justin needed more close-ups and inserts for editing, to achieve the effect he wanted.

Especially during the fight, Renly had given unique traits to Hobbs' character. This was a detail that couldn't be missed.

"Then... should we redo the scene with different shots?" Justin hesitated, but fear gnawed at him. "What if... there's another accident? What do we do then?" After careful consideration, he asked and answered himself, "We can film the scene in segments, fluidly transitioning between shots. We already have seamless shots, so now we film according to the storyboard. It's okay if some sparks are missing; what we need are close-ups and inserts."

After saying this, Justin glanced at the cameraman, assistant director, and production manager beside him. "It'll be fine, right? It'll go smoothly, won't it?" However, he didn't receive the response he hoped for. So, he clenched his fist, rallying himself. "Alright, everything will be alright." After a moment's thought, he added, "Remember, everyone stays on high alert. If you sense even the slightest thing amiss, charge in immediately, don't wait for my command. We already have a perfect shot; we don't need any more accidents to achieve perfection."

In their conversation, a sense of solemnity was palpable, a melancholy akin to that passage in one of Luo Bingwan's poems "The wind is rustling, the waters are cold; brave souls depart and never return." Yet, no one treated it as a joke. With solemn nods, they affirmed the plan and, with renewed determination, began the shoot once more.