Take

One attempt at a shot, numbered and kept or discarded. The same moment, tried until it is true.

The take is repetition in search of truth: the same lines, the same marks, numbered attempt after numbered attempt, until the version that stops feeling performed. What changes between takes is rarely the plan; it is the fatigue, the risk, the accident the plan could not have scripted.

Kept or discarded is the editor's inheritance: the slate's numbers become a menu of the possible, and the film is cast from among its own attempts. The working truth every director learns: the best take is often not the cleanest, and knowing when it is already in the can, and when to go again, is judgement money cannot shortcut.