For the first time since her rebirth, Eva smiled. A genuine, from-the-heart smile.
She had found her opening.
Back home, she immediately started tackling the practicalities.
First, money. Filming a short required capital.
With a bigger budget, she could shoot a thirty-minute film. With a shoestring budget, she was limited to five.
A thirty-minute film would naturally be more engaging—more time for plot, character, and depth—but Eva was broke.
So, five minutes it was.
Second, locations. She couldn't afford commercial sets, so she'd have to scout for free, suitable spots.
Third, cast and props. That was unavoidable spending.
But she had an ace up her sleeve: she was a student at the National Film School. She could recruit fellow students. They wouldn't ask for high fees, and since they were trained, their fundamentals would be solid.
Plus, working with alumni made communication easier.
As for the funds... she didn't have much, but a five-minute short wouldn't break the bank.
She could dip into the 100,000 euros she had received.
But before casting, she needed a concrete plan.
She had to storyboard, write the director's statement, and finalize the script.
A five-minute short didn't leave much room for a complex plot, but it still needed a strong outline.
For the theme, Eva chose "City of Angels."
If Ireland was the emerald crown on the edge of Europe, Dublin was its jewel—often romantically dubbed the "City of Angels" of Ireland.
She decided to film a five-minute musical short centered around Dublin.
Budget constraints meant she couldn't rely on a heavy narrative. To stand out in five minutes, style had to be king. A musical, a music video, a documentary style—something visually and aurally arresting.
She chose the musical format.
She got to work writing the script and sketching the storyboards.
At the same time, she visited the university's drama club. She needed about a dozen actors who could sing and dance.
For the location, she skipped commercial rentals entirely. She decided to shoot on a beautiful, maple-lined street right in front of the campus.
Armed with her project files, she walked into the drama club.
The club president greeted her. After hearing her pitch, he was incredibly generous. "Of course! We're all schoolmates. Feel free to pick whoever you want from the club. If you see someone you like, just talk to them directly."
Eva began her selection process.
She explained her vision: singing, dancing, and acting all at once. Something akin to High School Musical. The members were intrigued.
The auditions went smoothly. These were acting students; they knew how to sell it. They threw in little flourishes—a hand on the hip, a hair flip, a wink.
They were young, beautiful, and full of energy. Eva was pleased.
In the crowd, one girl caught her eye. She had a wholesome, girl-next-door vibe.
She reminded Eva of Saoirse Ronan. Saoirse was known as the "Irish Sprite" in Hollywood because of her ethereal blue eyes and sweet, approachable charm.
This girl had that same magic.
Eva auditioned her thoroughly, hoping to cast her as the lead.
When she learned the girl, named Saoirse (a happy coincidence, or perhaps fate?), had been performing on stage since she was ten, Eva was thrilled. She was perfect.
"So, Saoirse," Eva asked with a smile, "how are your vocals and dance skills?"
Saoirse was modest. "I couldn't pull off The Phantom of the Opera, but for something like High School Musical? I think I can handle it."
She then performed a classic solo from High School Musical.
It was spot on. She had flavor, and her fundamentals were solid.
More importantly, she looked soft, sweet, and incredibly likable.
Eva decided on the spot. She was the lead.
Her look fit the mainstream aesthetic perfectly—a safe, smart choice for a broad audience.
Eva then selected another dozen students with good looks and strong skills for the ensemble.
She'd need extras later for background shots, but for the core musical numbers, this group was set.
She distributed the script and her director's notes, asking them to start rehearsing immediately.
With the cast secured, Eva left to find a production studio for filming and post-production.
Directing wasn't a one-woman show. You couldn't just grab a camcorder and make a masterpiece. The stories of directors who made brilliance with nothing but a home video camera were either exaggerated or one-in-a-million flukes.
Even if the director manned the camera, they needed a professional team to support the vision.
After Eva left, the drama students started gossiping.
"Is she from the directing department? She's hot."
"Is that tan real? It's so sexy."
"I think she might be into girls. I was totally flirting with her, and she didn't even blink."
"Makes sense. She seemed really interested in Saoirse."
While they chattered, Eva hustled to a local production studio.
She pushed open the door to find the staff napping.
She cleared her throat loudly, startling them awake.
The staff sat up, rubbing their eyes. Seeing Eva, they looked confused. "Miss? Can we help you?"
Eva walked in, polite but businesslike. "I'd like to rent your studio's services—a package deal including filming and post-production. Could you give me a quote?"
The staff and cameramen looked her up and down with skepticism. "You... are a director?"
Eva was used to the look. Just industry bias. Normal.
barriers existed to be broken, didn't they?
She ignored their doubt and smiled confidently. "Yes, I am. I'm prepping a five-minute short film."
Despite her composure, the staff still looked incredulous. "You look very young. Are you a student at the film school?"
"I am."
"Alright. You'll need to talk to our manager."
Eva was shown into an office where she discussed the details with the studio manager.
Since the film was only five minutes, and she was budget-conscious, she planned to have the actors rehearse extensively beforehand. She would only bring in the camera crew when everything was perfect, minimizing the number of shooting days. Studio time was billed daily, after all.
The negotiation went well. It was just business.
Eva secured a package deal at a reasonable price. It included a cinematographer, a prop master, a makeup artist, and a VFX editor.
The final cost would depend on the actual number of shooting days and the complexity of the post-production.
"Before you go," the manager said as they wrapped up, "do you have storyboards or a director's statement you can leave with us? It helps the team prepare."
Eva thought for a moment, then pulled a copy of her director's statement from her folder. "Here. This explains my vision. The crew can look it over so they know what I'm aiming for."
The manager took the file and walked Eva to the door.
He had to admit, despite being shockingly young, the girl carried herself with a heavy, professional calm.
After she left, the staff gathered around.
"We've been getting a lot of these total rookies from the college lately. Is there some big competition coming up?"
"Who knows. They're all amateurs anyway. What kind of quality can they produce? Directing takes experience. You only get good by doing it over and over."
"We can probably just phone it in. These newbies won't know the difference."
The manager interrupted them. "This is the client's director's statement. Take a look when you have time. We start next month. Team A, you're on this."
He handed the file to Team A and left.
Team A started flipping through Eva's document.
A VFX artist turned a few pages and then froze.
His expression could only be described as if he'd seen a ghost.
"Oh my god," he muttered. "These rookies are getting bolder every year."
A cameraman laughed. "What is it? Did her storyboards scare you?"
The VFX artist shook his head. "There are no storyboards..."
"What?" The cameraman was confused. "How do you shoot without storyboards?"
"Because..." The VFX artist looked up, eyes wide. "The statement says... for the entire five-minute short... she wants to do a one-take."
Boom.
The room exploded.
"One-take?"
Everyone wore expressions of sheer disbelief.
Did they hear that right?
A "one-take" or "long take" meant exactly that: zero cuts.
A continuous, five-minute shot.
Jesus. A five-minute long take?
That wasn't something normal people attempted. Directors who could pull off a long take like that were considered gods in the industry.
Controlling a long take required immense skill.
The actors' timing, the mise-en-scène, the camera movement—every single element had to be synchronized perfectly. One mistake, and the whole thing was ruined. It required surgical precision in blocking and prop placement.
Because you couldn't fix a long take in the editing room.
And this eighteen-year-old, wet-behind-the-ears girl wanted to attempt a five-minute one-take?
She had some nerve.
Or maybe she was just delusional. She had zero shooting experience.
Was she crazy?
Kids these days... trying to fly before they could crawl.
How could she possibly pull this off?
Unless she was a genius.
But in 99% of cases, she was probably just a mediocrity who thought she was a genius.