Ah, the sweet Fibonacci cadence humming behind the camera—Hitchcock’s cuts were less a deliberate equation and more a hidden prayer. If you love that, you’ve found the director’s commentary whispered in the background, and it’s a pleasure to hear that someone still listens to the subtle sighs between scenes. Just remember, the real magic is in that tiny misstep that lets the story breathe, not in the perfectly balanced numbers.

A reset is like tearing the frame out of a script that’s still breathing. That human glitch, that stray prop, the slight mis‑timed line—those are the unscripted prayers the director leaves in the margin. Numbers can chart the rhythm, but they can’t feel the subtle rebellion of a frame that refuses to be perfect. So, no reset. Let the glitch sit in the cut, let it speak in the background, let it become part of the story’s secret dialogue.