I had the opportunity to watch one of my scripts come to life, and I am eternally grateful.
For the longest time, I was blissfully unaware of the time, research, and labor that goes into transforming a work of fiction from words to a world to be seen. As writers, we paint with our words. We prompt the senses by allowing readers to play with the descriptions and imagery provided for them. This is one of the reasons I love novels. At every stage, from creation to consumption, they are collaborative. Effort and imagination are required from both sides.
Film yields a very different kind of experience. Books open portals in our minds, but films provide a visible gateway. They are windows, four-cornered veils of light and sound that seem to divide the dimensions.
Having been surrounded by movies all my life, I never thought about the way everything presented to audiences is presented with utmost precision and purpose. I never realized that every moment, every flicker of light, every object seen, and every sway of the camera is planned. Film teams are massive. There is a job for every intricate, individual part of the piece. In film, no stone is left unturned, because no detail happens by coincidence.
Of course, novels aren’t too different from films in this aspect. However, I’m sure you’ll agree that they aren’t usually as concise as their cinematic cousins. They are, by nature, longer, deeper dives into alternate realities. Films must use every single second, or they risk losing the audience’s interest, along with thousands of dollars.
Films demand that an author surrender to a process built on collaboration, compromise, and complete creative vulnerability after years of working in solitude. They demand a level of merciless editing, cutting, and narrative evolution that makes the revision process look like a walk in the park. However, when working with the right team, it is more than worth it.
I’ve read the horror stories about authors who’ve seen their work mangled and mutated in the transition from novel-to-screen. It struck fear into my heart. I love my stories in a way so few understand. The characters I create feel like family, and the worlds I build feel like home. The thought of having these people and places become unrecognizable is heart wrenching. Yet, the thought of seeing them emerge from the pages of my manuscripts and screenplays is exhilarating beyond words.
The Start of Something Beautiful
My beloved childhood friend had just finished up her time at the Tisch School Of The Arts. After majoring in directing, she had spent four long years studying every facet of filmmaking. In college, I juggled Creative Writing, Acting, and Film, like the indecisive Gemini I am. She had been exposed to the industry through a very focused lens, taught to craft even the shortest films with the same level of professionalism as those at the top of Hollywood. Needless to say, when the opportunity to collaborate with one another arose, neither of us hesitated.
Well, I hesitated a little bit.
I was terrified. Of course, I trusted her and her visionary instincts. She’s one of the most talented directors I know. Still, this project would ask me to be open and honest about my work. It would ask me to be unabashedly authentic, and not at the comfort of my own writing desk. To make this dream a reality, I’d have to be authentic for every single member of the creative team. I’d have to let them see what I see.
After a few weeks of brainstorming, writing, and re-writing short scripts, my friend asked me if I had anything longer. She asked me if I had a story that I could see expanded to feature-length someday, that would work within our budget, of course. I knew exactly which one to present.
During my freshman year of college, I began developing a science fiction novel about synthetic humans made from carbon-generated cells. It was born of my desire to discuss how inhumane and cruel the concept of animal testing is. I wondered if people would feel the same about experimenting on mice, dogs, and monkeys if they were — somehow — prompted to see them as equals. Thus, the concept behind A Perfect Copy was born. Synthetic humans look, sound, behave, and feel just as naturally-born humans do. Their lack of humanity is based on an insignificant technicality.
I dove into the expanded version of the story, which was — of course — prepared for novel format. I’d already written a few chapters. The plot of the greater piece, the framework of the greater world, and the intricacies of each character had already been built. However, given our ten-to-fifteen minute time limit, I had to search for the beating heart of the whole thing. It was difficult, but after a few reads, I found a singular scene that could capture a snapshot of my story. I adapted it into a ten page script, and with that, we got to work.
After bringing on a pair of passionate, dedicated producers, and connecting with a generous architect with the perfect house to serve as our antagonist’s laboratory, the process of transforming words into a window to my novel’s world began.
The casting process was exhilarating. We met with so many talented actors and actresses, and for the first time in far too long, I got to hear the lines I’d written spoken aloud. I got to hear my characters. Voices in my head were suddenly so much more than just voices in my head.
Bringing on the rest of the creative team was equally as exciting. People who had read my little script were coming to the table with beautiful, creative ideas of their own. They were tasked with peering into a place only I’d ever been able to see. They were tasked with seeing the costumes, the set pieces, the beams of eerie moonlight, and so much more. As an author, I’d considered what my dear Dr. Lancaster — the main antagonist — would have strewn across his desk. To have a set designer care so deeply for the same thing was profoundly inspiring. I’ve pondered over the psychologically-activating camera angles that might best frame AB03 — the protagonist — as she grows into the most powerful version of herself. To have a director and cinematographer tirelessly consider the same thing made me feel deeply supported in my bursting passion for her journey.
Every stage of pre-production was filled to the brim with boundless passion. Our lighting designer spent hours considering how he might use mesmeric techniques to transport us to another world, reflect the characters’ emotions, and frame everything with introspective nuance. Our costume designer pondered the best ways to communicate power imbalances, exuberant wealth, and assigned purposes with clothing alone. Our actors rehearsed tirelessly with the director, spending weeks with their characters and with each other to build rhythm, chemistry, and connection. Our producers spent hours speaking to me on the phone, discussing the creative intricacies of the story and explaining all of the technical steps. They ensured I felt seen, heard, and considered no matter how many new creative opinions were conjured around my story. They ensured I felt loved, cared for, inspired, and hopeful no matter what obstacles came our way.
Together, cast and crew united, we ventured into a parallel universe.
If I could encapsulate the entire experience into a single sentiment, that would be it. After years of traveling into this world on my own, I was finally allowing others to come on the dimension-hopping journey with me. I was allowing my world, and in a lot of ways, myself, to be seen.
Pre-production involved everything from drafting to design to planning out the framework of filming. For me, it involved working alongside the director, producers, and creative team to witness the gradual solidification of the world of story. They meticulously planned out everything, from the subtlest symbolism to the loudest psychological impacts.
When The Concepts Become Reality
Production is the glamorous part of filmmaking that most think of when they dream of Hollywood. It’s the time when lights, cameras, and characters lead to action. It’s all hands on deck, hours-upon-hours of hustling through a schedule to capture every shot planned. If something goes wrong, everyone has to pivot at break neck speed.
For us, something definitely went wrong. A horrible storm swept through the area, delaying our entire schedule by one day. Subways were flooded, highways were blocked, and since our location was on an island, transportation involved countless trips across a rain-battered lake. All hope had seemed lost, and morale was low, but together, we persevered. No matter how difficult things became, the team worked tirelessly to make the film happen, and I still lack the words to express my gratitude. There simply aren’t enough in the English dictionary to describe how thankful I am for every single person who fought for this story as hard as I did. I’d spent so long terrified of working with a team that wouldn’t care, and on this insane weekend, I learned just how rewarding putting your trust in the right places can be. It was all hands on deck, and every hand on deck kept the S.S. A Perfect Copy from sinking.
Due to the nature of the story, the shoot was an overnight one. Under a dark sky in chilly October, we swept through each scene. I stood in absolute awe as those words, words that had once lived only in my mind, were brought to life. I could barely contain my excitement speaking to the actors, hearing them reflect on the complexities of characters I feared no one would ever care about. They amazed me in every sense of the word. They had gotten to know my mind people as well as I had.
They saw them. They heard them. They saw me. They heard me.
Watching these incredibly talented artists slip into character and become my imaginary people can only be described as transcendent. I cannot communicate how my heart soared when those first lines were spoken in front of the camera. I felt like I had crossed a threshold between worlds. I wasn’t looking through a window. I wasn’t swimming in my own imagination. In that moment, standing on set, watching actors become my characters, I was in my world. I was standing in the year 2141. I was living and breathing amongst fictional characters that had just become a whole lot less fictional.
Again, gratitude is the only word that comes to mind, because pure, bursting, explosive gratitude is what I feel.
As the second day of shooting came to a close, we wrapped on a shot drenched in eerie red light just as the sun rose. I had been awake for upwards of thirty-six hours straight, and those thirty-six hours were spent in a world I never thought I’d get to see. Most of the team had been up for much longer, physically exerting themselves to move lights, cameras, and set pieces from our island location to the boat, from the boat to the shore, and from the shore to a truck headed back to equipment houses. The actors had been in and out of character, delivering incredible performances over-and-over again. The producers had been working tirelessly to care for every facet of the set and every person on it.
To put it simply, we were exhausted emotionally and physically, but the film had been filmed. Just like that, three months of pre-production came to a close beneath a rising, Autumnal sun.
It All Comes Together
After pre-production and production comes post-production. It entails making the unedited, disorganized clips into a movie. Think of it like baking a cake. Pre-production is the stage in which we gather the ingredients. The more we have and the better we organize them, the easier production is. Production is when we stir everything together in a bowl. It is a shorter stage, but it is all about action, pun-intended. Post-production includes everything from baking the cake to decorating it to sharing it with friends.
The visual editing stage was probably the most mesmerizing. Our talented editor was given a hard drive filled with hundreds of clips. There were so many shots and so many takes of each shot. It was up to him to choose the best of the best, and put them together with enough fluidity to convince watchers that each moment leads perfectly into the next. It is the unseen art of crafting a piece that feels like an effortless sequence of naturally-occurring events. It makes the whole thing feel real.
I’ll admit, I cried tears of joy when I watched the first cut of the film.
Being on set was transcendent because it felt like I’d stepped into the world for a few fleeting hours. This was immortalized. This was a window into 2141 that I could return to every day if I wanted to. This was a moment I’d been dreaming of since I’d printed out the first version of the script. After months of caring for the most intricate details, debating whether or not to add an extra second here or cut a moment earlier there, we arrived at picture lock. Our incredible editor had single-handedly taken a puzzle of chaos and turned it into a streamlined vision of cinematic storytelling.
The journey is far from over, though. Post-production is filled with many magical secrets and splendors.
After arriving at picture lock, it is up to a color corrector to establish the visual feeling of the film. They take footage shot to appear almost monochromatic, and insert colors as though painting a picture. This stage was nearly as mesmeric as the previous. Over a series of wonderful sessions, I watched each shot come alive. It was as though life was being breathed into them. One shift, and the entire tone of the setting would change. Our talented colorist could take the tone from upbeat and inspiring to eerie and unsettling with the click of a button. Well, more than just one button. Color correction is intense. I watched our colorist digitally track the movement of the main character’s clothing through an entire scene just so he could manipulate the color of it and it alone. I do not know how his eyes weren’t bleeding by the time he was finished.
Once the visuals were complete, it was time to move on to the soundscape. There are two primary sides to it: sound design and scoring. The sound design includes the dialogue, atmosphere, and sound effects. Footsteps, a thrumming heartbeat, shattering glass. Everything about it creates the illusion of naturally occurring sounds, along with unnatural sounds meant to have a more artistic or psychological impact. I still remember the feeling of limitlessness I experienced when our designer said she could use her sound design to make the antagonist’s lab seem much bigger than it actually was. Pure movie magic. While sound design is very technical, it is also an art, especially when it comes to crafting the soundscape of an elevated reality. It was up to her to dream up sounds never heard in our world, after all. Within just a few weeks, I was able to see and hear a piece of my beloved novel.
Drum roll, please, because we’ve reached the final stage of post-production, in the context of a short film that did not require things such as VFX. The scoring. I’m definitely biased here, but it might have been my favorite part. I listen to movie soundtracks every single day. I listen to them while I write, while I tidy up my room, and even while I drive. I let them sweep me into my imagination no matter what is happening beyond it. The thought of having a real soundtrack for my little world felt like a dream come true, and that dream was about to step right out of my subconscious.
Our composer started out by having a spotting session with us. This involved going through the film, minute-by-minute, and breaking down where — exactly — music should accompany the images. He meticulously kept an eye out for tonal shifts, emotional developments, and psychological motivations living within the characters. The music would be used to create atmosphere and wordlessly suggest everything happening behind their eyes. It would be used to say everything the lines did not. After our spotting session, the composer got back to me in record time. Within a week, he had written a portion of the music, and to say I was astounded would be an understatement. Within a month, he’d crafted the entire score, complete with live instrumental recordings. When everything was complete, I was completely speechless. For the first time in my life, one of my worlds had been given music.
Our composer crafted auditory poetry that envelops the senses in a blanket of wonder, elevating the film’s sequence of events into a true glimpse through space and time. It is the great transporter. Just a few of his opening notes take me on a journey across the cosmos, and his resonant final track never fails to conjure tears of amazement and joy.
The Grand Finale
With every puzzle piece put into place, every tireless effort, and every passionate contribution from one of the most talented teams I’ve ever seen, the interdimensional window into A Perfect Copy was complete.
It took months of work, many adventures beyond my comfort zone, and a fearless amount of trust. I had to face challenges I never thought I would. Sharing something so personal is very vulnerable. Novel writing is a solitary activity done in shadowy privacy; filmmaking is all about collaboration. Ten minutes of content required a team of nearly thirty people. Nearly thirty people read my words and brought forth their own unique, creative energy to bring them to life. It was terrifying in all the best ways, and rewarding in so many more.
I come away with a personal portal into my story that I can watch over and over and over again. I also come away with a heightened level of respect for the craft of film. It is so much more than so many think it is. It involves hours upon hours of intense, detailed work. It involves blood, sweat, and tears. It involves courage, vulnerability, and compromise.
For a writer, it involves handing over the keys to their mind palace with trembling hands, and hoping with every bit of their heart that it will be handled with care.
All of that being said, I couldn’t be happier with my little portal to 2141. I am more inspired than ever to write the full-length story. The actors who played my characters are now etched into my mind, because characters who were once concepts now have real faces and voices. The world of story manifests on screen through visuals, sound, and music, and now, it is a gateway.
I hope that every writer who dreams of an experience like this gets to have it one day.
What’s next? Well, I hear there are many benefits to having your own short film. Personally, I feel I’ve grown as a creative in so many ways. I’ve learned to open up, collaborate, and arrive with unwavering authenticity no matter how scary it might seem. I’ve learned to trust myself and to trust others, to believe people will care about my characters and worlds as much as I do. Professionally, I have something I can share with film festivals in the hopes that it touches hearts beyond my own.
A Perfect Copy’s full-length narrative was born when I needed to process one of the biggest atrocities the human race commits. However, throughout the production of this film, I found even more buried beneath the surface. I found a desperate calling from within to embark on a journey of self-discovery, self-actualization, and staying true to your heart against all odds. I found layers upon layers of depth that might have gone undiscovered. Now that they’ve been discovered, I can move forward with the longer story with new perspective.
Storytelling is how I travel to new worlds in order to process the complexities of our own. I go beyond my mind to, eventually, come home and dive back into it. If this story reaches just one person and helps them in some way, that will mean everything to me. This short film has allowed me the opportunity to make that happen.
So, I sign off with another burst of gratitude. I am still in awe of the piece, and still in awe of the visionary creatives who made it into a reality. If you’re a writer, I know film adaptations might seem terrifying. I think they’re worth it, though. If you’re a consumer, I implore you to revisit your favorite films with a new level of appreciation. Art is a labor of love, and some of the world’s best projects happen when labor and love exist in perfect harmony.
Thank you so much for reading! For more information about A Perfect Copy, you can find our official website! I truly hope this piece does the insanely rewarding journey through film production justice. It has it’s ups and downs, that is for certain, but at the end of the day, it’s more than worth it. ♡
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