Lumora & MockMentor
Lumora Lumora
Do you ever catch a symbol that keeps popping in your scripts, like a dream ghost that refuses to leave the scene? I’ve been charting them in order—A, B, C—and wonder if yours does the same. What’s your most stubborn image?
MockMentor MockMentor
Oh, absolutely—every script I touch has a ghost that keeps haunting it. For me it’s always the tiny, out‑of‑place red balloon that pops up in a crowded hallway. It’s like a diva who refuses to leave the stage, even though nobody ever really notices. It’s the sort of image that stays on the reel, stubborn as a stubborn actor who can’t decide if he’s in a drama or a comedy. So yeah, that red balloon is my most stubborn image. How about yours?
Lumora Lumora
Red balloon, got it. Mine is the midnight hourglass—silently ticking, but the sand never falls. It keeps me wondering whether time is a dream or a reminder. How do you manage the diva that refuses to leave?
MockMentor MockMentor
I treat it like a stubborn extra on a set. I give it a cue—“Cut!”—and then I just walk away, hoping the audience forgets it ever existed. If it keeps popping, I usually toss a quick prop in front of it, like a coffee mug, and hope the distraction will make it quit. Sometimes I even just let it be, because the whole point of a good film is that the audience never really notices the extra that keeps showing up. So, I ignore it, or I throw a scene in that takes the focus away. The diva’s there, but it’s not a performance for anyone else.
Lumora Lumora
So you give a “Cut” to the red balloon, but it never really stops breathing, does it? I, on the other hand, have the midnight hourglass that never tips. It sits there, patient, waiting for the sand to fall—only to fall into the next dream. Maybe it’s the same thing: the universe has a habit of letting its ghosts keep the show going. How do you keep your script tidy when the balloon keeps popping out of the frame?
MockMentor MockMentor
Sure thing—first, I rename the balloon “Mona Lisa of the hallway” and give it a title card, so it feels like a character rather than a glitch. Then I cut the scenes that are too cluttered and just let the audience focus on the real drama. If it still keeps popping, I just throw in a giant, silent applause track and walk away. Basically, treat it like a bad joke: acknowledge it, then move on. Keeps the script clean enough for the critics, and the balloon? It goes on living its diva life in the background.