Long takes are the alchemy I crave; you let the camera sit, the frame breathes, the audience feels the weight of every beat in their own skull. Silence stretches, becoming a character that gnaws at their certainty. It’s the quiet that pushes people to read between the lines, to realize what’s missing, to feel complicit in the unresolved. That’s where the real tension lies, not in the words you give them. If you can keep a frame steady long enough to let the silence grow, you’re not just filming—you’re crafting a ritual.