HOW IT PLAYS
Two six-sided dice, a sleeve you write on, and six nights.
TWO DICE
Six-siders. You roll when the outcome is uncertain and failure would matter, and not otherwise.
| 10–12 | You got the take you wanted |
|---|---|
| 7–9 | You got it, and the film got something too |
| 4–6 | The film got its take |
| 2–3 | The film got its take, and more than it needed |
THERE ARE NO SECOND TAKES
Once a scene is shot it's shot. The production has moved on to the next setup. You don't get to try that again.
THE CREDITS
Two columns on the back of the box. CAST are in front of the camera. CREW are behind it. Help somebody successfully and they go in CAST. Hide somebody successfully and they go in CREW — which is not rescue, it's a job change. Nobody ever comes off.
You have been in CREW since the first session.
THE RUNNING TIME
It's on the front of the box. 94 minutes is what the film intends to be. Every scene you spoil, deny or force into a compromise, minutes come off — and you cross it out on the sleeve and write the new number.
Two numbers, moving in opposite directions, printed on one object in front of you all night.
WHAT IT TAKES TO MOVE IT
Minutes only come off when the film doesn't get its scene, and a scene needs a place, a body and a reason.
Taking one of those away means getting somebody to be somewhere else, open something, drive somewhere, cover for you, or not do the thing they do every Thursday.
Every one of those is a name on the back of the box.
The running time is the only score this game keeps, and it's paid for in people.
WHAT YOU ACTUALLY DO
Notice where the edit doesn't match. The photograph with four people in it that had five last week. The gravestone with the wrong year. Every cut the film makes leaves one, and the more desperate it gets the sloppier it cuts.