Chapter 20: Jennings Takes an Interest
After watching Naomi's figure disappear around the corner of the street, Wayne returned to the second-floor office in a good mood and dove back into the grueling post-production work.
Ever since post-production began, Luke had rarely voiced his opinions unless Wayne specifically asked for them. Most of the time, he simply sat quietly in the corner of the room, watching Wayne and Julia work tirelessly. He hadn't forgotten his main reason for joining the project: to gain firsthand experience in the complete process of making a feature film. So he chose to observe in silence and take diligent notes.
Unlike Wayne, who maintained strictly professional relationships with the cast and crew, Luke was more like the production's all-around coordinator. He was involved in everything, always lending a hand wherever needed, and because of this, he had good rapport with nearly everyone on set.
To most of the crew, Wayne was seen as a cheapskate—tight-fisted and stingy, the very image of a stereotypical Jewish capitalist. Whatever the task, his first priority was always the same: save money, but maintain quality.
But Luke saw things differently. To him, Wayne wasn't miserly at all—he was someone who knew how to create a plan and, more importantly, how to stick to it. That wasn't something a miser would do. Wayne had methodically executed his entire production blueprint and managed to complete all his shots with impressive precision and efficiency.
Luke understood just how vital planning was for a director, and watching Wayne work had taught him more than all his previous experiences combined. This hands-on learning beat anything he'd picked up running around sets after graduation.
While Luke was lost in thought, the editing room door opened gently. The manager, Jennings, stepped inside and watched Julia and Wayne at work for a moment before quietly sitting down beside Luke.
"Hey, Luke. I heard this is your team's first film? The progress is impressive—congratulations."
Luke closed his notebook with a smile. "Thanks. Yes, it's Wayne's first feature, to be precise—and he's doing an amazing job. When I first read the script, I never imagined he'd be able to bring it this far. Our professor was right—Wayne really is exceptionally talented in certain areas."
Jennings seemed particularly curious about Wayne. Staring at his back, he asked Luke softly, "So your mentor sees real potential in him? Tell me more—what makes your teacher think he's that talented?"
Luke didn't answer directly. Instead, he replied with a wry smile, "Mr. Jennings, you seem really interested in him. You've stopped by to watch quietly more than once these past few days."
Jennings chuckled. "He's a director, Luke. And in this industry, directors are like kings. Sure, tons of people want to be one, but barely any make it. A friend of mine thinks Wayne has a real shot."
"A friend? May I ask who?"
"Steve Wilson—your crew's gaffer. We go way back. He speaks highly of Wayne. Honestly, Steve wouldn't normally work on such a small production, but due to some complications, he couldn't land other gigs."
Luke suddenly recalled that Wayne had praised Steve's professionalism on more than one occasion—said he was the most technically proficient member of the team by far.
Jennings continued the conversation casually, without any pretense—just honest curiosity. "Steve said something that stuck with me: 'Wayne is a very smart guy who knows exactly who he is.' According to Steve, Wayne chose the path with the lowest failure rate for a first-time director."
Luke nodded thoughtfully. That was true. Wayne always avoided anything he wasn't confident in.
"You're right, Mr. Jennings. I think even if this film flops, Wayne will eventually succeed. Directing is incredibly high-pressure work—shooting a movie is stressful enough on its own, and constant setbacks can break people. That's why directors often come across as short-tempered."
"But Wayne?" Luke smiled. "He never lost his cool. Not even once. No matter what happened, he always kept himself in check and led the team forward."
Jennings listened with interest, smiling faintly as Luke showered his director with praise. Then he glanced one last time at Wayne and Julia working hard, stood up, and quietly slipped out, closing the door behind him.
Luke had mostly seen Wayne's practical strengths as a director, but what really intrigued Jennings was something Steve had told him in private. The script, he said, wasn't particularly original—well-structured, yes, but full of tropes and shortcuts.
But as production progressed, Steve began to notice that despite the script's mediocrity, the film was shaping up into something captivating. For a low-budget indie film to grab attention, it needed just a few key ingredients—sexy women, gore, and a cheap redemption arc. Wayne's film had all three.
That's why Jennings had been quietly observing him. This Jewish-American director had crafted a cliché script into something that—wrapped in a hint of dark, personal style—was full of the right kind of hooks for young audiences. He wasn't flashy, but he was clever.
Just then, a voice called out.
"Luke, come over here! You've got to see how this shot turned out!"
Wayne called Luke over, and the three of them gathered to watch the rough cut of the film. Though the footage was still raw and unpolished, the skeleton of a finished movie had begun to emerge.
They watched the entire cut through, right up until the end of the workday. The total runtime exceeded 200 minutes. Wayne's plan was to start the second round of editing the next day and begin fine-tuning the film immediately.
The goal was to trim the runtime down to about 90 minutes. That would naturally speed up the pacing and eliminate unnecessary scenes. Once the fine cut was complete, they'd move on to scoring the film. Wayne's idea was to use atmospheric, fitting music—nothing fancy, as the budget didn't allow for a dedicated composer.
"Wayne, we definitely need to pick up the pace. This isn't an art-house film. The slow, meandering rhythm just won't cut it."
For once, Luke took the initiative to offer feedback after watching the rough cut.
"Of course. I'm planning to rely heavily on montage for the fine cut."
Wayne agreed completely. He knew the pacing had to be tightened if they wanted to hold the audience's attention. In modern filmmaking, "montage" had become a fundamental technique—cutting and assembling disparate shots to create a unique sense of time and space, guiding the viewer's emotions and psychology.
Montage was especially effective in accelerating the rhythm of a film. And for Happy Death Day, a straightforward, linear story, it would serve that purpose perfectly.
Wayne gave Julia a heads-up so she could prepare. With that, the three of them wrapped up the day's work.
---
As Christmas approached, Wayne, Luke, and Julia finally completed both the editing and the music for the film. Everything had gone smoothly. Wayne still had over $100,000 left in the budget. The final runtime came to 96 minutes, and total production costs amounted to $1.04 million.
Once the job was finished, Wayne took time to personally thank Julia. The veteran editor, a middle-aged woman with a no-nonsense attitude, had brought a level of professionalism that helped Wayne avoid nearly every pitfall of post-production. To show his appreciation and celebrate their completion, Wayne invited both Julia and Luke out for dinner.
He booked a modest French restaurant on the outskirts of Burbank, not far from the studio. The three of them clinked their champagne glasses together, smiling and laughing as they toasted their success.
"Wayne, did I hear you're submitting the film to the Sundance Film Festival?" Julia asked casually as she cut her steak.
"Absolutely. I only got the invitation thanks to a connection through my professor. I'm hoping to make the most of it—maybe even catch the eye of a distributor."
At this stage, Wayne wasn't worrying about the bigger picture. He just wanted to take advantage of the platform the film festival provided—an affordable, rare chance to promote his work.
The biggest advantage of attending the festival was that it saved him time and effort. Instead of knocking on doors at distribution companies, he could let the film speak for itself.
Film festivals always attracted a certain crowd—buyers and screeners from major distribution companies. Wayne hoped someone in that crowd would take a liking to his film. He believed in what he'd made.
Julia took a sip of champagne and swallowed her bite of steak. "We've all seen the finished cut now, and I have to say—I'm amazed. For a first-time director to pull this off is incredibly rare. In my opinion, there's no doubt a company will want to pick it up. Trust me, Wayne—I know talent when I see it."
Wayne grinned. He trusted her judgment. And it wasn't just Julia—Jennings, usually tight-lipped, had also offered rare words of praise after seeing the final version. As for Wayne himself, his confidence had only grown stronger.
"Thanks! Hey Luke, remember what we said before? This movie will hit theaters one day—and our names will be there, right in the credits, where everyone can see them."
Luke paused for a second, then nodded. Yes, now the only thing standing between them and a theatrical release was finding a distributor. That, unfortunately, was the hardest step. But if a company picked it up, his name would really be on the big screen.
"Wayne, don't forget—you've still got one big hurdle. The MPAA rating. Right now, we're aiming for PG-13, but if you submit it with all those intense gore scenes, there's a good chance it'll get slapped with an R. That could seriously hurt the film's value. We have no industry backing—you'll need to consider that carefully."
Luke raised a valid concern about the film's rating. The difference between a PG-13 and an R rating was huge. The audience, the marketability—it could all shift dramatically based on that single letter.
Wayne nodded. He knew Luke was absolutely right.
(End of Chapter)
[Note: The MPAA rating refers to the film rating system formerly administered by the Motion Picture Association of America (MPAA) — now known as the Motion Picture Association (MPA). It assigns age-appropriateness ratings to films in the United States, helping guide audiences (especially parents) on content suitability.
Common MPAA Ratings:
Rating Meaning Details
G (General Audiences):- Suitable for all ages. No violence, sex, or strong language.
PG (Parental Guidance Suggested):- Some material may not be suitable for children.
PG-13 (Parents Strongly Cautioned):-May contain intense violence, brief nudity, or strong language. Not recommended for kids under 13.
R (Restricted Viewers under 17 or 18 in some states):- Need an adult. Includes stronger violence, sex, or language.
NC-17 (No Children 17 and Under Admitted):- Explicit adult content. No one under 18 allowed.]