Route B · Night
Before Nine
EVA Curated, Film 01. 60 seconds, about 46 cuts. Made for 9:16 social, with a 16:9 version.
The family moves in at nine. It is one in the morning, and EVA's creative is still at the house with her makers, on a late call with her therapist, seeing her own drawing hang in the air wherever a room is not yet exactly as drawn. By dawn, every line has come home.
Ninety-nine percent is still a beautiful house, and most people stop there, at the handover. EVA Curated carries the vision through sourcing, coordination, execution and the final details, so that what was envisioned is what is ultimately experienced.
Direction frames: light, mood, wardrobe and rooms. Every shot gets its own frame once a route is chosen; any drawn lines, type and the logo are made by hand in the edit.
10:00
Night, every room lit by its own lamps. 4 cuts: the plaster relief in lamplight; one thin pencil circle hangs beside the round terracotta cushion, unexplained / the crystal sunburst from below, glowing against its dark ceiling / the double-height lounge, the glazing deep blue beyond the sheers, the amber glass drops catching the lamplight / her hand lifts her phone off the end of the teal sofa, screen to her palm
(0:00.8, filtered) "It's one in the morning."
AC hum, the line's hiss
20:04
2 cuts: she crosses the marble hall in soft slippers, drawings under her arm, phone in her hand / a crate waiting in the lamplit hall, lid still on
(0:03.6) "And the family moves in at nine."
Soft steps; the speaker voice rings back off the stairwell
30:06.5
2 cuts: from behind, at the end of the bottom step, she stops and looks up, her fingertips resting on the top edge of the glass balustrade / looking up the cascade of glass leaves along the stair wall
(0:07.5) "Our session's on Thursday."
40:10.5
THE LINES, 4 cuts, each tight on one piece: the terracotta cushion, drawn a hand's width along (the circle from row 1) / the top edge of the stair's glass balustrade, one pencil line along it, a small tick where her own fingertips rested / the oval white table, drawn a little further from the fringed sofa / a lounge sheer at the floor, its hem drawn on the marble, the real hem a finger's width short
(0:10.5) "You drew every room." (0:12.8) "The rooms didn't quite listen."
A faint pencil scratch per cut
50:16
2 cuts: her open hand spans the gap between the oval table's drawn edge and the real one: a hand's width / she lifts the lid of a crate in the lamplit hall; pinned inside the lid, her drawing, its title block stamped DESIGN HANDOVER, the approval box signed, filling the frame
(0:16.4) "Everyone else signed off at the handover."
60:19.4
BURST, 3 quick cuts: an empty vase on the Palm dining table from above, hydrangeas drawn in / the black drum lamp by the sheers, dark, its light drawn as pencil hatching on the travertine / a cold mabkhara on the hall's marble table, a soft plume of smoke drawn above it
(no voice)
Quick pencil ticks
70:21
4 cuts: three rooms as most people would see them, no lines: the relief / the curved staircase / the teal lounge / then: she stands in the middle of the lounge rug, drawings under her arm, phone in her hand, looking up as her lines return, one at each piece still off: the table, the sheer, the dark lamp
(0:21.0) "Ninety-nine percent is still a beautiful house." (0:25.3) "Isn't it?"
80:26
2 cuts: close: she slowly shakes her head / her hand smooths a drawing flat on the oval table's top, her phone face down beside it
(0:26.6) "I can hear you shaking your head."
90:28.5
PACING HER LINES, 3 quick cuts, a macro, then a hold: just above the floor, her slippers walk heel to toe along the drawn outline of the oval table / she passes the black drum lamp, its pencil hatching on the wall behind it, her knit sleeve crossing frame / her slippers follow the sheer's drawn hem / macro: her pencil's eraser touches the oval table's line on her drawing / low, from the side: she sits deep in the rolled-arm armchair, feet on the floor, her drawing on her knees, her pencil turned eraser-down, resting on the oval table's line: one rub and the drawing would match the room; the blue panel and the amber drops behind her
(0:30.9) "What would it take?"
The hum, then silence
100:34
THE GUST, 3 cuts: from nowhere a gust crosses the lounge: every pencil line sways like thread, and the drawing on her knees lifts at one corner / the wind crosses her face, a strand lifts from her knot, and she sits up, the eraser lifting off the line / her view, the oval table: on the oud note it stands exactly on its line and the line fades, the studded lamp beside it glowing; on the wind's drop it is back where it was, and the line returns
(no voice)
Wind, glass drops knocking, one oud note
11a0:38.5
WHAT IT TAKES. Each stage name is lettered into the frame in her pencil's drafting capitals, like the title block of a drawing, with no hand or pencil in frame, and held through the stage. Sourcing. her fingers fold back the tissue in a crate in the hall: the lounge's sheer, remade a finger's width longer / grey gloves lift white hydrangeas, cut for the morning, from their box
(0:37.9, small and filtered, as the wind drops) "...Hello?"
The night's pulse begins, every cut on a beat
11b0:40.7
Coordination. her pencil, point-down, taps one mark on the drawing pinned inside the crate lid; two grey gloves rest beside it, one on a tape, one on a curtain hook / over her shoulder, she holds her drawing up against the oval table, lining it up, two gloves at its edge
(no voice)
11c0:42.9
Execution. grey gloves hook the remade sheer onto its track / at her pencil tap, two pairs of gloves ease the oval table onto its line / low at the floor, a grey glove runs a steamer down the sheer; the fabric drops and its hem lands on its line
(no voice)
11d0:46.1
The final details. from above, grey gloves set the hydrangeas into the Palm dining vase; the drawn flowers settle onto them and fade / a grey glove sets the black drum lamp's dimmer to the drawn glow; the hatching fills with real light, edge to edge / her right hand drops dark oud chips onto the glowing charcoal of a footed brass mabkhara; a soft plume rises / her cloth lifts her own fingerprint, the last trace of her in the house, off the top edge of the glass balustrade, where her last pencil tick sits, first light catching it
(no voice)
120:51.5
DAWN, 3 cuts: first light warms the plaster relief; the terracotta cushion now sits inside its pencil circle, and the circle settles onto it and fades / along the top edge of the glass balustrade, the last line settling into the light / from the foot of the stair: she sits a few steps up, the drawings in her lap, the pencil worn short, its eraser untouched, her phone face down beside her, feet together on a lower step, eyes closed, and smiles
(0:53.0, small, filtered, sleepy) "Still on for Thursday?"
The music opens out
130:56.5
The last line lifts off the balustrade and settles on a bone card as a single rule; the EVA Curated logo, from EVA's own file, above it; beneath, on two lines: What was envisioned / is what is ultimately experienced.
(no voice)
The front door closing behind her; one final note