The shoot began as scheduled. From the moment she assembled the crew, Irene had already made copies of her carefully drawn storyboards and distributed them to everyone involved.
She had also drawn up a detailed daily shooting schedule, allowing the whole crew to work efficiently and stay on track. It made things easier for her and greatly reduced the pressure of coordinating everything on set.
"Lighting, could you make it a little brighter? I need the kind of brightness you get from direct sunlight. Thanks."
"Wardrobe, the dancer at the upper left is having a wardrobe malfunction. Please give her a longer skirt."
"Makeup, Brit's braids are too tight, making her face look a little round. Please loosen them up and leave some space. We could add some colorful ties to her braids too. They need to look good and set a trend."
"Brit, give us a few more smiles during the group dance. Let the audience see how sweet and approachable you are."
All morning, Irene barely stopped to coordinate the details with each department. Even for a music video, getting everything to look exactly as she envisioned was no easy task.
While Britney was having her makeup touched up, Irene called a ten-minute break and went to the lounge to get some water. As she passed the dressing area, she happened to hear someone mention her name.
"Isn't that Irene Coppola awfully young? Is she even an adult?"
"Not sure. I've never heard of her before. She just got dropped in out of nowhere."
"Why aren't they using one of our own directors? It's not like this scene needs all that fuss... Probably some well-connected kid getting a chance to practice."
"She's a Coppola. What did you expect? Besides, we're paid by the day. The longer she takes, the happier I am."
"Fair enough."
She didn't stop or try to join the conversation. Some things were best heard and left at that.
It wasn't just the crew on her set who had noticed her. People on the set of Angels on Earth nearby had noticed her too.
"Another Coppola. Tch, some people really are born lucky." During a break, Michael Schultz started chatting with his assistant.
"Director Michael, someone who gets by on connections could never compare to you. What's one music video? Our show is based on City of Angels. It's bound to be a hit!" The assistant hurriedly handed him a freshly brewed cup of black tea.
"You don't understand. Even if she's well-connected, being able to direct on her own at that age is no small thing. Otherwise, the producers would've sent an assistant director to supervise her." Michael blew on his tea and spoke mildly.
He had made it this far by keeping a low profile and avoiding trouble. In Hollywood, one careless word could get you into trouble.
"Of course, of course. We still have so much to learn from you."
Irene worked at a breakneck pace and finally finished the day's shooting schedule before sunset. Britney was exhausted too. It had been every bit as tiring as dance practice.
"If everything goes smoothly, we'll finish your solo dance tomorrow, and then you can take a break for a while."
That evening, the two of them lay in the apartment Irene had rented temporarily while a professional massage therapist gave them full-body massages. The room was decorated with calming aromatherapy and a platter of fresh fruit.
"Irene, you really know how to enjoy yourself. You even brought Ophelia along while you're here for work," Britney said enviously as she ate some fruit.
"Of course. I couldn't survive without Ophelia."
"Will you take her with you when you go to school too?"
"Of course. Orphy, would you like that?" Irene turned to ask.
"My lady, I'd be happy to follow you anywhere." By the window, Ophelia was ironing the clothes Irene would wear the next day. She answered softly.
"No fair, I'm so jealous! Once I'm famous, I'm hiring three—no, ten housekeepers to wait on me!" Britney said indignantly.
"Don't worry. By next year, you'll be able to hire eight or ten assistants, and the company won't stop you."
"But do you really think I'll be a huge star? I'm scared I'll end up like Aimee Mann. She's so talented, but nobody pays attention to her." Britney's voice was filled with deep unease.
Sometimes Irene forgot that the Britney in front of her was still a girl who felt lost about the future, not the superstar life would eventually mold.
She reached out and took Britney's hand in a firm grip.
"If you don't believe in yourself, don't you believe in me? Relax and enjoy the last bit of peace before your debut. Once the music video airs, everyone in the United States will know you. After that, you can kiss your freedom goodbye." She tried to reassure Britney with a lighthearted tone, but pre-debut nerves were something every singer had to face.
Even Britney Spears, the future superstar, was no exception.
The shoot resumed at eight the next morning.
"Brit, your eyes aren't focused enough. I want to see desire. Imagine there's something right in front of you that you want more than anything but can never have. You need to look like you desperately want to possess it."
"No, no, sweetheart. Don't just stare."
Irene hadn't expected Britney to get stuck on the eye acting, the part that demanded the most expressiveness, just as they were nearing the end.
"Someone get Brit some eyedrops. We need her eyes to look a little moist."
Twenty minutes passed, and they still hadn't captured the shot Irene wanted. In the end, she had to give up. Maybe some things were best left for the audience to imagine.
The moment the music video shoot wrapped, Irene grabbed the footage and headed straight to the editing room at Warner Film Base. The excellent facilities saved her the hassle of looking for an outside location.
With no outsiders to interfere, she followed her own judgment and cut out many of the suggestive moves, making the dance feel younger and more energetic.
She also added a few scenes of Britney and the dancers horsing around like classmates. They didn't take up much time, but they did a perfect job of highlighting how approachable she was.
However, when Irene brought the finished video back to Jive to discuss promotion with Carl and the others, Director Nelson strongly objected.
"This looks like kids playing house. There's nothing appealing about it." Jerry Nelson didn't even put down the cigarette in his hand. He was like a completely different person from the last time they'd met.
Irene fanned away the smoke drifting toward her and strode to the window. With a sharp swish, she threw it open.
"I thought Mr. Nelson would at least know that smoking indoors puts other people's health at risk." She didn't rush to argue. She knew he wasn't looking for an explanation; he just wanted to assert his authority and put her in her place.
"Oh, sorry. I forgot." Jerry apologized, but kept the cigarette between his fingers.
"Miss Coppola, first, I'd like to thank you for taking such pains to make the music video so... 'perfect.' But you may be too young to understand what the market expects from a pop singer. A little sex appeal is necessary. I don't think the fans will like an idol who looks like an elementary school student."
Someone else might have given in. After all, whether the dancers' moves were sexy or not had little impact on the director. But Britney was the one in front of the camera, and Irene would never back down so easily.
"First, we're creating a teen idol, not a street performer. Her priority is to show her youth and energy. She can be sexy in the next stage of her career."
"Second, being young means I understand what people my age think. Mr. Nelson, I have to say your ideas are a little outdated. I suggest you listen to your younger assistants more and get some fresh perspectives."
"Third, I'm the one in charge of this music video. The contract spells it out clearly: I have final cut. Please respect the terms of our agreement."
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