Читать книгу Finding the Missed Path. The Art of Restarting Horses онлайн

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I hesitated a bit as I took the rope off his neck and gave him one last pat on the neck. “We’ll need you to stay right here, partner,” I heard myself say in a voice so quiet that I wasn’t sure if I actually said it out loud or if I just said it in my head.

“Here we go,” the first A.D. said again. He was telling me I needed to get out of the shot.

I petted Rusty on the head one last time and then slowly backed away from him. “Let me know when I’m clear,” I said to nobody in particular.

Rusty watched intently as I backed away from him, but he didn’t move. I backed 15 feet, then 20, then 25, and then, at about 30 feet, I slowed to a stop. “You’re still in frame,” the director said. I backed farther, going another 5, then 10, then 15 feet. “There,” the director shouted. “You’re clear.”

By this time I had already been away from Rusty for a good 30 seconds, and he hadn’t moved a muscle.

“Rolling,” the camera operator said.

“Rolling,” the first A.D. repeated. Several more seconds passed. Rusty still hadn’t moved.