Page 34 of Persuading Penny
He nodded. “We’re going to need twice as much lighting as we now have. The space is huge, the ceilings are way up there and you’re going to have a lot of movement here. We’ll have to rent them. I’m certain Bath doesn’t rent this sort of equipment, so we’ll have to have it shipped here from London.”
“Penny, how much had we budgeted for this scene?”
As we discussed the budget, the savings we’d made elsewhere and the scenes to come, Cliff wandered through the large, cavernous space, looking up, looking this way and that as he plotted out the scene in his head, his lips constantly in motion as he spoke to himself.
“Just jot that down, Penny. I think we’ll be okay with that.”
“Right,” I said, not really having heard the last part of our discussion.
Keely looked at me, that look of concern again, then glanced back at Cliff and raised a brow. “You two still haven’t settled whatever it is that is going on between the two of you.”
I looked at her squarely in the eyes. “There’s nothing going on. Nothing at all. I’m just admiring the way he works.”
She smirked, a devilishly knowing smirk. She saw right through me, and yet said nothing more on the matter.
The following day, we temporarily moved production ofPersuasionto Tillsbury.
The costumes were gorgeous as the elite came out to see a concert in their finest gowns. Even Anne, usually so dowdy, now had a pale green gown with small silk flowers around the neck of the bodice.
The style of dress had changed since the days ofPride and Prejudice, allowing for brighter colors, more ornamentation and a little more cleavage.
Despite the great number of people on set, making the possibility of a blunder much greater, everything went well. The haughty characters met, chatted, and Anne had her little moment with Frederick.
“Great,” Keely said once the scenes were over. “We finished that in record time. Now we’ll be able to send those lights back before they charge us for another day.”
On the third day back in Bath, with the sun up and bright, only a few stray clouds to bring interest to the sky, production was once again moved outdoors.
Bridget, as Anne, looking more frumpy than usual in a blood red cape over a dull gray, ill-fitting dress, sat on the grass. Nearby, obscured by a cluster of trees was Louisa Musgrove and Captain Wentworth.
“Remember, Anne,” Keely said. “You are distraught by what you overhear, and yet you have no lines. Your distress must be clear in your eyes, in the play of your mouth, all while not seeming like a caricature of sadness and regret.”
“Got it.”
Keely went to the camera operator, Cliff standing nearby.
“I thought of starting with a wide shot; Anne to the left and Louisa and Wentworth to the right.” She glanced at Cliff for his opinion.
He walked around the camera operator, around behind Keely and farther still to the left, his eyes remaining on Anne.
“I think the scene would be more effective if we had her sitting in the shade instead of that stark sunlight. Where she is now is too drenched with sun for such an emotional moment. Yes, we can shoot a wide scene, to show their proximity to one another, but I’d like to then move in, get a close up of Anne’s face, the camera ever so slightly higher than her.”
“As you wish,” Keely said.
Cliff went to Bridget and offered his arm to help her stand. Gently, he guided her to a more appropriate spot several yards away, in the shade.
“That’s better,” he told her. “Sit right there. Yes. Perfect.”
He then re-adjusted the placements of the other two actors and returned to Keely.
“Looks great,” she said, then turned to her actors. “Ready. Action!”
They captured the scene in one take.
“Cut! That’s great. Let’s move on.”
The morning saw them shooting two more quick scenes and the call to lunch was then made.
Having grown bolder since the trip to Southampton, I joined the cast and crew, even daring to sit with those I was less familiar with.
