Intense & Intelligent, a Raindancer Comes to Play

She is listening intently to what I have to say about how we will shoot and how she will move. She doesn't blink, and she sits on the edge of the chair, trying to remember everything because there is to much to do and too little time, but she knows me well enough not to hope for anything different. Her cellphone rings, and she holds up a finger, hang on, Sean. Sure, says me. She reaches for the phone and does not check to see who is calling before she turns it off. She is looking at me again, eyebrow arched. This is why everyone loves to work with her. Hollywood is full of shooters and producers who complain about their models and actors staying in touch or conducting business on the set. I shake her hand. She asks what for, and I tell her it's to balance all the times I was urged to kick models or actors in the butt when they checked their phones to see who called. The interruptions kill momentum, but the actors hardly care. It's all about them. The Raindancer laughs. No, Blue, it's always about you, that's why I'm here. It is so easy to work, suddenly, and we smile like puppies through the first 300 shots.