Second Take Films.
A simple na, but with a aning only he understood: his second take, his second life.
On this channel, the initial goal was to upload short films. Much cheaper in budget and, just like many movies and series Owen had seen, the short films he rembered from his past life didn't exist here.
Although the idea wasn't for it to be just a place to upload shorts. It would be the first brick of sothing much bigger.
In the future, Owen wanted Second Take Films to beco his professional production company, the space from which he could develop, finance, and produce his own movies.
His goal wasn't to sell scripts and act in them through studio deals, though he understood that could happen. His vision was to create the scripts, produce them himself, and maintain full control over the creative process, just as he had already done with Paranormal Activity.
He had experienced the role of producer and liked it. He enjoyed making decisions, building the team, moving the pieces. But more than anything, he was excited about the idea of being his own boss so he could act in the films he truly wanted to bring into this world, the ones that were his favorites. Also, to ensure that ideas wouldn't pass through external filters where they might be abruptly altered.
However, that would co later, once he had accumulated enough money to truly produce the films he wanted to bring here.
Almost a week ago, he uploaded his first short film to the channel: The Black Hole. It lasts just 2 minutes and 49 seconds, cost him less than a thousand dollars, and is a visual reflection on greed and temptation, told with a humorous, stylized tone.
Of course, the original idea wasn't his. He had seen it in his past life, where it was created by Olly Williams and Phil Sansom. But in this reality, The Black Hole didn't exist. No one had written, directed, or fild it. Nobody knew about it, except him.
Therefore, here, the creator was Owen.
Was he worried about taking credit for an idea he hadn't conceived from scratch? Not at all.
For him, these films, short or long, would never see the light of day if he didn't bring them back. And what mattered most to him was being the perforr, the actor embodying these characters.
In the case of Paranormal Activity, it wasn't a literal copy, since he rewrote parts of the script: improving the dialogue so that the characters felt more natural, with better relationships and developnt, more believable. He did this to make Micah's role more interesting for himself, and also to increase the film's chances of success.
His passion was in being the actor: the face, the emotion that connects with the audience. Although, of course, it would be inevitable for him to gain great recognition as a true "original author."
Returning to the short film: The Black Hole takes place in an office setting, where the protagonist, a dull, lonely office worker, discovers a black hole printed on a sheet of paper that allows him to pass through any surface.
What begins as simple curiosity turns into an uncontrollable urge to steal money from a safe. An unexpected twist at the end condemns him to beco trapped inside, victim of his own greed.
Owen played the office worker, the short film's only actor. Direction was handled by Matt, who accepted the job without charging a cent, since he loved the idea.
From the very beginning, Matt was enthusiastic about directing, and took charge of executing a precise shoot that was visually coherent and highly expressive.
The short's aesthetic uses desaturated colors to reflect the monotony of office life and the protagonist's emotional emptiness. Owen's performance at first is restrained, almost robotic, but as he cos into contact with the supernatural, he becos more expressive, physical, and gestural.
The visual rhythm is sustained through quick cuts and movent within the fra. Tension rises when the character enters the safe room: the cara becos more dynamic, following the surge of adrenaline. Mid-shots and close-ups stand out, capturing every expression of anxiety, greed, and surprise with clarity.
Despite being under 3 minutes long, Owen did an excellent job conveying the character's emotions, without a single line of dialogue.
The short film was shot in a single day, in an office Matt managed to get from his university. It had everything they needed: an old photocopier, gray desks, and that impersonal tone so typical of workspaces.
Pre-production lasted only two days. Owen wrote the script sequence by sequence, recalling every detail of the original short. Then, together with Matt, they planned the shots, the lighting, and the visual effects. The hole, for instance, would be done entirely in post-production with After Effects.
This last stage, post-production, was the longest: six days in total. Video editing took three, between cuts, pacing, and assembly. The black hole effect required two more days of detailed work. Finally, they spent one additional day on color and sound, adjusting tones, textures, and volus to give it a more professional atmosphere.
All in all, from the first page written to the final exported file, the short took nine days of continuous work.
Owen didn't spend much money on this short film. The location was free, the equipnt belonged to Matt so there was no expense there, nor for direction, since, even though Owen offered to pay him, Matt refused to accept it.
As for the cast, there was only one actor: Owen himself.
The rest of the crew was just as small. For sound and cara support, they invited Eric and Tyler, two guys they had worked with during the Paranormal Activity shoot. They were friends of Matt's, and after that experience they had also grown close to Owen. When they were asked to help on the new short, they accepted imdiately.
None of them asked for money. They did it out of friendship, out of eagerness to participate, and to gain more experience in sothing that genuinely excited them.
The only thing Owen had to cover was food for everyone that day, a simple but important gesture. The only significant expense was hiring a professional editor, to ensure the short had a solid and convincing finish. He paid $600 for the entire post-production, including visual effects and audio work.
And so, with about $700 invested, Owen completed his first short film.
Thinking about the short, Owen stepped out of the bathroom, running his hand along his freshly shaven jawline.
When he entered the living room, he saw Sophie sitting on the couch, eating ice cream while watching TV. The mont she noticed Owen co out, she stood up and walked toward him.
She was wearing one of Owen's shirts, one of those large, thin ones that fell halfway down her thighs, making it seem, for a mont, like she wasn't wearing anything underneath. But just beneath the hem of the shirt peeked a pair of short black shorts, almost imperceptible.
"Try it," Sophie said, stopping just short of him, extending her arm with a spoonful of ice cream.
Owen looked at her, then down at the spoon. Pale green, with dark bits of chocolate: mint chip.
"You're not going to convince , Sophie. I already told you I don't like that flavor of ice cream, and I never will," Owen said, without needing to sound harsh.
"That's because you haven't tried it enough," Sophie replied, stepping closer without lowering the spoon. "So things take ti. You have to taste them a couple of tis, get used to the flavor. At first you won't like it, but soon you won't be able to stop."
Owen raised an eyebrow slightly, and a sly smile tugged at his lips.
"Well…" he said calmly, "Like you just said, at first I'm not going to like it. So, to make those initial attempts more… bearable, maybe you could give sothing in return, don't you think?"
Sophie narrowed her eyes at him, her smile widening as she shook her head in amusent.
"Always showing your negotiating side," she murmured, "You've got a producer's spirit, huh?"
Then she rose on her toes, leaned in, and whispered sothing into his ear, sothing as unexpected as it was provocative.
As Sophie's voice dropped to a whisper, a slow smile spread across Owen's face.
"Really? You'd actually do that? What would your mother think?" Owen asked with a faint smile.
"She'll never know," Sophie replied without a shred of sha.
"Alright, it's a good deal. I accept," said Owen. "Just make sure you don't go back on your word."
Without another word, he leaned forward and ate the entire spoonful of ice cream she was still holding in front of his mouth.
Sophie watched him expectantly. "So? What did you think?" she asked.
Owen chewed slowly, swallowed with a certain solemnity… and then put on a slight look of distaste, frowning faintly and narrowing his eyes.
"No. I still don't like it," he replied, shaking his head.
"It's mint chocolate chip! It has chocolate! What part don't you like?" Sophie huffed, frustrated, as if her grand plan had failed.
"The part that tastes like toothpaste. It's like eating dessert your dentist gave you," Owen answered.
"You have no culinary taste when it cos to ice cream," Sophie said with exaggerated drama, turning away. "Well, you're going to have to eat a lot more mint chip if you want to keep my promise."
But before she could step away, Owen gently took her wrist and pulled her back in one smooth motion, turning her so she was against his chest.
"That wasn't part of the deal. It was just one spoonful. You're breaking the agreent," Owen said.
Sophie looked at him, amused, offering no resistance. Her lips curled slowly into a smile.
"I didn't sign anything," Sophie replied in an innocent tone.
"You whispered it in my ear. That's worth more than a signature to ," Owen shot back.
"Mm… I don't know, Mr. Producer, you never had sign a contract," Sophie teased, clearly pleased with herself.
Owen let out an exaggerated sigh and released her, shaking his head in mock resignation.
"You're wicked, you know that? First you get my hopes up with a tempting promise, then you feed terrible ice cream… and now you won't even keep your word."
With that, he turned, walked over to his desk, and sat down in front of the computer. He unlocked the screen and typed in his password.
Sophie followed with a mischievous smile on her lips. When she reached the desk, she climbed onto it without saying a word and sat down on his lap, facing him.
"Well… that promise might've been too much. But I can satisfy you in other ways…" Sophie said softly.
The words lingered in the air like a gentle provocation. She looked Owen straight in the eyes, waiting for his reaction.
But Owen didn't return her gaze. His eyes were fixed on the monitor, narrowed, as if sothing there had captured all his attention. He didn't answer.
Sophie frowned.
"Owen?" she called. "Are you really going to ignore now? Is this your way of negotiating?"
"Turn around and look at the screen," Owen said with a slight tilt of his head.
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