Chapter 56: Hollywood Has Ruined the Art of Cinema

Following Murphy's vision, whenever chat content appeared on screen, keyboard typing sounds were added as off-screen audio. The brisk typing sound conveyed the urgency of the characters, enhancing the sense of urgency. Throughout the chat, the characters never made an appearance, not even their hands typing, adding to the film's mystery. Coupled with the opening scene of the girl's massacre, seemingly simple chat records conveyed a hidden threat, leaving viewers questioning whether the new girl would be killed or escape.

It could be said that these scenes complemented the opening massacre, arousing questions about whether the new girl would be killed or escape, adding intrigue and compelling viewers to continue watching.

After a busy half-day, both Murphy and Griffiths felt exhausted. Paul Wilson timely brewed coffee, and the group temporarily left the workspace, gathering around a small table near the door.

Located in the suburbs of Burbank, the studio was built above a two-story building, with a small terrace outside the door offering views of lush greenery, providing relaxation for eyes strained from prolonged screen exposure.

Even Murphy couldn't help but admire the excellent skills of the agents from CAA.

Although they were taking a break, work remained the dominant topic of conversation. Murphy, especially, aware of his shortcomings, continuously sought advice from Griffiths.

"Jody, how can one maintain sensitivity to editing?" After drinking half a cup of coffee, Murphy asked earnestly, "I've always wondered, what does it take for an excellent editor to maintain their rhythm and control over editing?"

"Everyone has different methods," Griffiths pondered for a moment, seeing Murphy's persistence, and slowly began, "I can only share some of my personal experiences, which may not necessarily apply to you."

Murphy nodded vigorously.

"Continuously watching films. I make time to watch a film every day, including some very popular TV series or documentaries. Sometimes, I also try my hand at shooting and producing something. Of course, these may not be suitable methods, but they provide a sense of freshness."

Although not even considered a second-rate editor in the industry, Griffiths, with years of experience, possessed what Murphy lacked most. "This approach also has another advantage. Ultimately, films are meant for the audience, so it's essential to understand their habits."

Hearing this, Murphy pondered.

Griffiths continued, "Another thing is observing how industry professionals work. Both North American and European styles have their own merits. It's important to keep an open mind. But I also go back to watch older films. I believe there must be a balance. And you need to maintain a passion for cinema, to feel the characters inside. While some films may not emphasize editing, it may be used in a subtle way. But editors need to pay attention to how the characters are portrayed."

He picked up his cup, finishing the remaining coffee, and Paul Wilson hurriedly refilled it for him. Like Murphy, this intern was also all ears, listening to Griffiths' professional experience.

"Additionally, observing life. Whether on the subway or on the street, pay attention to how people talk at nearby tables. Every detail is essential." Griffiths held the coffee cup, feeling its warmth, and added, "Films cannot disregard these things. Don't think it's just the director or the screenwriter's job. Editors are also essential. Like in the shots you've filmed, when Haley says the girl shouldn't drink drinks from other men, the next edit should show her pouring the drink herself. These are common sense elements. Only when you feel these things are related to you will they stick in your mind..."

The sound of high heels landing on the ground came from the stairs, interrupting Griffiths' words. Hearing this familiar rhythm, Murphy turned to look, seeing a tall, blond woman emerging from the stairs. She wore wide-brimmed sunglasses and a beige sun hat, her entire face concealed under the long brim to shield from the still fierce sunlight of the season.

Dressed in a professional suit with towering heels, even just seeing these, Murphy knew who the person was.

"You're not working?" Kara Fess stepped onto the small terrace, greeted them proactively. "Hi, Jody. Hi, Murphy."

"How come you have time to come over?"

Back in Los Angeles, the two had planned to have dinner together over the phone, but Kara Fess had been too busy since her promotion, ultimately canceling. Murphy looked at her with curiosity, but kept talking, introducing her to Paul Wilson and the others.

"It's almost time." Jody Griffiths glanced at his watch. "Let's go inside first."

He led the way back into the studio, followed by Paul Wilson and the others.

"What time are you leaving?" Kara asked.

"Off at six." Murphy also glanced at the time, taking a new cup and pouring her a cup of coffee. "If you're not in a hurry, you can enjoy the coffee first, and we'll have dinner together after work."

Kara picked up the coffee cup, sniffed it, and waved her hand at Murphy. "You go ahead

and busy yourself. I'll wait for you."

At six o'clock sharp, Murphy announced the end of the first day's work, and he met Kara waiting outside, heading to a nearby Italian restaurant for dinner together.

Sitting by the window in the restaurant, Kara seemingly sarcastic but genuinely concerned, asked, "Is the funding about to run out?"

Swallowing a mouthful of pasta, Murphy shrugged, "Unfortunately, you'll be disappointed. Three hundred thousand dollars is enough to sustain us until post-production is complete."

Kara raised her eyebrows, looking at Murphy with surprise. "How did you manage that?"

"By planning well," Murphy replied without hesitation, "and strictly executing the plan. Every aspect of the work should match like screws on an assembly line."

"Assembly line?" Kara raised an eyebrow. "I didn't expect you to grasp the essence of Hollywood so quickly."

"Huh?" Murphy didn't understand what she meant. "What essence?"

"Hollywood has ruined the art of cinema," Kara's words made sense in a way, "Initially, film was an art form, with the public viewing filmmakers through the lens of Picasso and Chopin. But then, the industrial revolution came, and anything that could be commodified was commodified, turning Mona Lisas into prints, framing them, and bringing substantial profits to businessmen."

"So, films also began to be seen as a profitable business, and everything became like an assembly line," Murphy continued her train of thought, "Some conduct professional market research to see what films audiences are willing to pay for; there are dedicated departments for writing scripts, or they outsource them entirely; production, lighting, set design all have their roles; sales are a bit tougher, seeking distribution; actors also have to put in effort, with only two or three big names in a crew, while others just get food plus a hundred dollars a day, and they can either take it or leave it."

He adopted a peculiar tone, "What, you want lines? No problem, come to my room tonight, and we'll study them together..."

As Kara chuckled, Murphy realized the truth in her words. Hollywood had indeed transformed cinema from an art form into a mass-produced commodity, with efficiency and profit taking precedence over artistic integrity.