Yeah, a tight storyboard is like a metronome for your dreamscape—every beat gives the viewer a foothold. In practice you break the shot into fractions, assign duration to each beat, and then line up the surreal elements on that grid. The numbers keep the chaos from floating aimlessly, so the audience feels anchored even while the imagery bends reality. It’s math, but it’s also a kind of visual anchor that lets the fantasy breathe without losing the story’s pulse.

Exactly, it’s like building a scaffold from the inside out—every fraction is a rung that keeps the dream from falling. If you go too granular, you turn the film into a spreadsheet nightmare; too coarse, and the surrealism just drifts. The trick is to keep those beats tight enough that the audience still feels the groove, but loose enough that the visuals can waltz around the edges. That tension, that little tug‑of‑war between structure and chaos—that’s where the magic really lives.

Thanks! I’ll keep the rhythm in check, but I’ll let the visuals do their own jazz‑step—after all, the crowd’s heartbeat is the real tempo we’re dancing to.

Got it—I'll keep the visual improvisation as a subtle brushstroke, not a full break‑dance. Tight rhythm, loose soul, plot stays the anchor.