magic hour

“I haven’t experienced the reality in years. I am always on set. My job is to live in other people dreams and build alternative realities where the rest of the world can run to.” 1st director assistant told me during the lunch break.

It is a warm and peaceful spring late afternoon. April, if I were to place it on a timeline. The last day of production from 33 very long days and nights. My first days and nights in a film production. We are all transformed by it. All men wear beards and women lost the color of their hair. We all turned into androgynous creatures.

The adrenaline is so high that hormones fly free in the air clashing by each other, as if an invisible Cupid turned off people’s minds and left them at the hand of their basic instincts. Sparks of unexpected passions light up dark corners. People who never noticed each other by now, suddenly see each other in a different light. The loved wives, husbands and children are far away in distant places. They miss each other, of course. Still, they are in a different reality while we are here and now. We’ll probably never meet each other again. The temptation of crossing a few lines feels natural, even necessary and vital at times.

In such moments and places nothing seems totally wrong.

For some reason people come to me at times and start speaking out their most intimate thoughts.


Another one told me on a different set “I can wander with you for an eternity. You make me feel as if I am alone with myself. And if there is something I truly love, that’s being alone with myself.”

When I heard that, I felt like a shadow. I haven’t said or done anything in particular about that person. I haven’t offered special attention or something like that. I understood the compliment, but it didn’t matter.

When you hear that once, you might take it personally and think you are special for that someone, even in love or a target for love. It inflames the pride and this one always shadows the truth. Still, what should you do when you hear it ten times a year from ten different strangers, some even living in a totally opposite corner of your world?

Nothing. I do nothing. I just listen and watch them passing by. Sometimes I also wonder.

The 1st finished his sandwich.

I haven’t said a word. I just stayed there eating my own, smoking and drinking catering coffee like all the hundred and fifty people around.

“How much do you smoke?” he asked before leaving.

“Too much to worth mentioning”, I replied and walked away smiling more on the outside.

The magic hour is near.

Who could not love this kind of light?

Even in the most emotionally impotent ones something shivers inside at the impact with magic hour. Maybe it is the only hour in the day when some of us can feel something. Something else.

(Stories from set. Fragment “The first 99 pages from a producer’s journal)