The very next day after Matthew returned from his little adventure in the desert, the film crew had to reschedule and postpone several scenes. Karolina had co down with heatstroke.
Taking advantage of the break, Stephen Somrs found Matthew to have a word.
"Matthew, we've been friends and partners for many years now."
Stephen was as polite as ever. "You're also the most dedicated actor I've ever seen in this business."
Sitting under a massive sun umbrella and taking a sip of water, Matthew looked at Stephen and smiled. "Just say what's on your mind."
Stephen paused, then finally said, "This film is scheduled for release on the Independence Day weekend next year. It's already December, and while post-production is happening in parallel, our tiline is extrely tight. A few days of delays could force a whole series of changes to the plan."
Hearing this, Matthew understood what Stephen was getting at.
During the previous shoot in Iceland, Sienna Miller had caught a cold, as had he.
This ti, filming in the Sonoran Desert, Sienna wasn't here, and as a result, Karolina...
If he were the director, he'd be unhappy too.
It wasn't intentional, of course. Matthew nodded and said gravely, "It won't happen again."
Having gotten the assurance he wanted, Stephen Somrs gave Matthew a smile and returned to his director's monitor, ready to resu filming.
Matthew glanced toward the northern edge of the set, where he could faintly make out the cast and crew trailers. The "ga" yesterday had gone too far, leading to Karolina's heatstroke, and as the instigator, he felt he had to do sothing about it.
A million dollars was out of the question, of course; after all, it had been a mutual arrangent.
He made a ntal note to have so cooling balm brought over when the crew packed up for the day, and to send a few boxes over specifically for Karolina.
Averting his gaze, Matthew noticed a crowd of people had gathered at the periphery of the set to watch the filming. He turned to a nearby assistant. "Have soone send so water over to them."
The assistant responded imdiately, "I'll see to it right away."
Matthew glanced at the fans again. There weren't many of them, only about thirty or so, all young people in their early twenties.
Chasing their favorite star out into the desert—these were all his fans, and hardcore ones at that.
When it ca to showing his fans so goodwill, Matthew never hesitated. In this sweltering desert heat, nothing was more refreshing than cool water.
His impressive fanbase wasn't just built on his work; it was the result of careful cultivation.
A small, seemingly insignificant gesture could often inspire great enthusiasm.
The crew made their adjustnts, and filming soon resud.
***
"Cut!" Stephen Somrs's voice rang out.
Hearing the call, Matthew turned and offered a hand to help Jason Statham up from the sand. Jason brushed himself off and grumbled, "It's hot."
Stephen raised his gaphone. "Alright everyone, reset! We're going again in ten!"
Matthew returned to the rest area, where a makeup artist rushed over to blot his sweat and touch up his makeup.
In this scorching weather, even though he was only wearing a thin base layer of makeup, a sweating actor couldn't just wipe it away.
Next up was the close-quarters combat scene.
Stephen had storyboarded two versions of the scene and hadn't decided which one to use. He would simply shoot both, then make the final call in post-production based on the overall flow of the narrative.
Shooting close combat wasn't simple. The action sequence was broken down into dozens of shots, the longest lasting only four or five seconds. The vast majority of takes involved Matthew and Jason each performing a single action before the director called cut.
Aside from the break to escape the midday sun, they fild the scene from morning until evening before finally reaching the concluding shots.
"Action!"
At Stephen's command, the caras started rolling again.
Matthew's camouflage vest was already in tatters. He tore it off carelessly and tossed it aside, revealing the defined lines of his muscles.
Both of their faces were covered in simulated wounds, but Jason's were worse: a split lip, a crooked nose, and a slow trickle of stage blood seeping from a gash above his brow.
The fight had reached its final monts, the dagger long since lost in the struggle.
Just as the blood trickled into Jason's eye, forcing him to squeeze it shut, Matthew lunged as if he'd been waiting for that very mont. He slamd into his opponent, and they both tumbled onto a green safety mat placed on the ground just out of fra.
Stephen's voice bood, "Good! That's a wrap on this one! Let's pack it up!"
Matthew unclenched his fists and, letting out a heavy breath, got to his feet before pulling Jason up with him.
While the crew was still packing up the equipnt, Matthew headed out. He went back to his trailer to remove his makeup, shower, and change clothes. Escorted by his security team, he took an SUV back to the main base camp, first putting in a request with the catering crew for cold beer that evening. Then he returned to his trailer, found a few boxes of cooling cream in his luggage, and prepared to deliver them to Karolina personally.
The entire cast and crew were staying in trailers. Although the n's and won's accommodations were on the sa side of the encampnt, they were situated so distance apart.
Matthew finished changing, put on a sun hat, and stepped out of his trailer. Brown and several other bodyguards were already waiting for him at the door.
The sun was nearing the horizon, and the air had grown considerably cooler. He started walking toward Karolina's trailer.
They hadn't gone far when Brown suddenly moved a little closer and whispered, "We've got a tail. Doesn't look like one of the crew."
The mont Brown spoke, the two bodyguards walking behind Matthew closed in, forming a protective wall around him with their bodies.
Brown added, "At the next trailer, we're turning left and going inside."
Matthew gave a silent nod.
"Chris, Ronald, Bernardo, Beasley, you protect Matthew," Brown commanded. "John, you're with . We're taking this guy down."
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