….
Action.
Regal had discovered something unexpected while directing Harry Potter, he had a genuine gift for action choreography.
Four films in, and he was still finding new aspects of filmmaking that ignited his passion.
The wand duels and magical confrontations had been restrained by the story's needs, but they had given him a taste of what he could accomplish.
Now he had Spider-Man.
A character whose greatest asset wasn't his strength or web-slinging, it was his precognitive spider-sense.
Most directors treated it as a convenient plot device.
Regal saw it as the foundation for an entirely new kind of action cinema.
Every fight, every chase, every moment of danger would be filtered through that heightened awareness, the audience wouldn't just watch Spider-Man react, they would and should experience his supernatural intuition.
The problem? He wanted to show that spider-sense through extensive slow-motion sequences.
In Hollywood, that was considered career suicide.
Slow-motion was the fastest way to destroy immersion, to make audiences hyper-aware they were watching a movie. But Regal wasn't backing down.
He had written entire set pieces around high-speed photography, designed to make viewers feel time dilated around Spider-Man's enhanced perception.
The inspiration came from an unexpected source - video games.
For Regal, picturising and designing these action scenes meant going back into every scrap of memory he had of Spider-Man's greatest action scenes.
He didn't just think about the films - he went deeper, recalling the countless hours he had spent on his PlayStation.
Spider-Man 2 with its physics-defying web-slinging.
Spider-Man: Shattered Dimensions with its inventive combat styles.
Even Spider-Man: Web of Shadows with its gritty, acrobatic fight choreography.
Those games had set a bar for fluidity, creativity, and sheer spectacle… Regal wasn't willing to settle for less just because he was making a live-action film.
But that also meant trouble.
Big trouble.
Because what a controller and an animator could achieve on-screen in a game was one thing - what stunt teams and actors could pull off in the real world was a whole different level.
And that was exactly why he was sitting in this meeting now.
….
Tom Bradley, the stunt coordinator, didn't mince words. "Regal, I have re-read your script three times. What you are asking for? It's borderline impossible."
They sat around a conference table littered with storyboards, surrounded by the key department heads who would make or break this vision.
The stakes were simple: figure out how to achieve the impossible, or watch the project collapse under its own ambitions.
"Regardless…" Regal cut in. "We have to make them possible."
"You want Spider-Man to swing between buildings in slow-motion for four unbroken seconds. That means our stunt performer needs to execute perfect wire work while cameras capture every micro-movement at 1000 frames per second. One tiny mistake, a wire showing, a timing error, a facial expression that doesn't match, and the entire shot is worthless."
Bradley spread out a series of photos showing wire rigs and safety equipment. "In normal speed, we can hide imperfections with quick cuts and motion blur. In extreme slow-motion, the audience will see everything. Every bead of sweat, fabric wrinkle, and reflection in his mask's lenses."
Maya Chen, the VFX supervisor, pulled up a rough animation on her laptop. "Tom's right about the exposure issue. But there's another problem, integration. If we're showing four seconds of real-time action stretched to twenty seconds of screen time, our digital environments have to be photorealistic with no shortcuts, and definitely 'fix it in post.' The audience will scrutinize every building, shadow, and piece of debris floating in the air… though it is not a conscious action."
Regal understood exactly what she meant.
Audiences don't walk into a cinema looking for mistakes, at least, real audiences don't.
They are there for one thing: to be entertained, to feel like they got their money's worth, that's the unspoken deal.
But the human brain is a stubborn thing.
Even if someone isn't hunting for flaws, it will pick up on anything that feels… off.
Not gore or shock, just the subtle wrongness when something doesn't match how it exists in real life.
If a viewer sees something they have encountered a thousand times before, a car, a streetlight, a human face, their mind will instantly and unconsciously compare it to their real-world memory of that thing.
If it doesn't match, they might not know why it feels wrong, but they will know something's fake, it's instinct.
That's why it's easier to pull off a CGI character like Ryuk from Death Note than Spider-Man.
No one in the audience has ever met a Shinigami, there's nothing to compare him to, whatever the director shows becomes the reality.
But Spider-Man?
No matter how fantastical his powers are, he still looks human.
That means he has to move like one, his weight, balance, muscle shifts, every tiny detail, must align with what our brains expect from a human body.
The audience will accept his superhuman strength, but if the rest of him feels unnatural, you lose them instantly.
And that, Regal knew, was the trap they couldn't afford to fall into.
Preston Clarke, the senior visual effects artist, adjusted his glasses and looked skeptical. "The computational cost alone... we're talking about rendering environments that would normally get maybe half a second of screen time, but now need to hold up under microscopic examination for twenty seconds. That's roughly forty times our normal workload per shot."
Regal felt the familiar pressure of a project teetering on the edge, this was the moment where most directors would compromise, scale back, choose the safe path.
Instead, he leaned forward. "What if we break the problem into smaller pieces?"
"Here's what I am thinking." Regal said, grabbing a marker and moving to the whiteboard. "We categorize every action sequence by technical complexity."
He drew three columns: GREEN, YELLOW, RED.
"Green sequences: street-level parkour, basic web-slinging, Peter Parker without the full suit, we shoot these handheld, documentary style. Natural, immediate and visceral with no slow-motion tricks needed."
Tom nodded. "That's manageable, we can slot those around the main unit's schedule."
"Yellow sequences: mid-level stunts with limited slow-motion, maybe we use 240fps instead of 1000fps. Still enhanced perception, but not the full treatment."
"And red sequences?" Maya asked.
"The money shots, full spider-sense, maximum slow-motion, every technical resource we have. The villain fights, the big swings between skyscrapers, the moments that define the character."
Preston was taking notes. "How many red sequences are we talking about?"
"Six, maybe seven if we get ambitious."
"That's... actually doable." Tom admitted. "If we can perfect the technique on those key moments, the payoff might be worth the risk."
Maya pulled up a new screen showing motion-capture data. "I have a proposal. What if we pre-visualize every red sequence using full motion-capture? We scan our stunt team, build digital doubles, and test every camera angle, every wire rig, every lighting setup in virtual space first."
"Like a rehearsal on the computer." Regal said.
"We solve the problems digitally before we put people on wires thirty feet in the air, and if something goes wrong during actual filming, we have the data to fix it seamlessly."
Preston looked up from his calculations. "The pre-vis budget would be enormous, but it's still cheaper than reshooting failed slow-motion sequences."
Tom was warming to the idea. "We could even test different wire configurations, see which rigs give us the cleanest movement patterns..."
"And I can pre-build all the digital environments." Maya added. "Every building, reflection, and atmospheric effect. When we get to set, we can't be discovering problems, we have to execute solutions."
For the first time since the meeting started, Regal felt the pieces clicking into place. The vision was still ambitious, still dangerous, but now it had a framework.
"Alright." He said. "Maya, I want full digital pre-vis on all red sequences within six weeks. Tom, design wire rigs that can handle precision movements at various speeds, we might need to ramp up and down within single shots. Preston, start building a database of every environmental element we will need."
He looked around the table. "And if anyone discovers this isn't working during testing, speak up immediately, better to adapt the vision than deliver something that looks fake."
Tom grinned. "Now that sounds like a plan I can work with."
"Just promise me one thing." Preston said. "When audiences are holding their breath during those slow-motion sequences, wondering how the hell we pulled it off..."
"Yeah?" Regal asked.
"We never tell them how close we came to disaster."
The room erupted in laughter, but underneath it was a shared understanding: they were about to attempt something that had never been done before, success would revolutionize action cinema and failure would be spectacular and very public.
Regal wouldn't have it any other way.
.
….
[To be continued…]
★─────⇌•★•⇋─────★
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