Issue link: https://digital.copcomm.com/i/1544119
The intention of any film design is to support the believability of the story being told—to make the world feel coherent, lived-in and unquestioned by the audience. But walking through the sets with the cast during the final pre-light and dressing days was something else completely. It was a genuine thrill. I could feel their energy shifting as they moved through the spaces, and with it a sense that something was being handed over—almost like passing a baton. The sets stopped belonging to the designers and began to belong to the characters. More than once I caught the same unguarded reaction from cast members—"I can't believe I live here" followed by "I can't wait to live here!" Ultimately, it was Emerald's teenage lens we were working through. That sense of intensity shaped everything—from scale and proportion to color and texture. The world needed to feel as if it had been felt before it was understood. The designs for Thrushcross Grange came with ambitions just as bold, and finding that language was no easier. One stage direction, however, lodged itself firmly in my mind—that of the Grange as a dollhouse, with a pivotal scene involving exactly that. So, rather than building a miniature version of the house, I flipped the idea and built a full-scale replica of the dollhouse instead. That decision immediately skewed the proportions. Everything felt slightly off—knowingly so— which played beautifully into the film's ongoing tension between the real and unreal. The Georgian windows stretched to nearly three meters in height A. GRANGE DINING ROOM. PRODUCTION STILL. B. GRANGE ENTRY FLOOR. GRAPHIC LAYOUT. C. GRANGE ENTRY FLOOR. SET PHOTO. D. GRANGE LIBRARY. SET PHOTO. E. GRANGE LIBRARY FIREPLACE. SET PHOTO. F. GRANGE ENTRY HALL. SET PHOTO. G. GRANGE INTERIOR. PRODUCTION STILL. H. GRANGE DRAWING ROOM FIREPLACE. SET PHOTO. I. GRANGE DRAWING ROOM. SET PHOTO. A B C