Chapter 892: Hyper-Realistic Space and Zero-Gravity Sensation
Whether Martin thoroughly "punished" Drew and Nicole remains unknown. But the next day, both women were visibly flushed.
Martin ate breakfast with his son while Cameron Diaz browsed baby supplies on her laptop. After spending time with his women, Martin had to dive back into work. The ladies had a child to nurture; he had his "hungry" magic to feed.
Gravity was greenlit. At its core, it was a space-bound survival drama, largely a one-woman show for Jessica, demanding exceptional acting skill. She'd been preparing for ages.
Once approved, Martin rallied the VFX teams—Weta Digital and Industrial Light & Magic included. The film leaned heavily on special effects; their quality would define its success. The script was straightforward: a female astronaut's self-rescue in space. Swap the lead's gender, and the impact would plummet.
…
By January 2013, Martin, Leonardo, and Jessica visited Houston's Space Center (SCH), part of NASA. (Note: NASA, based in Washington, is a federal agency overseeing space programs and research, sharing data globally. SCH, the largest U.S. space research and control hub, manages missions like the shuttle launches from Florida. Both are distinct yet intertwined—one administrative, one technical.)
Their goal: basic astronaut training, operational protocols, and set reference. The technical crew tagged along, photographing space stations and shuttles for prop models. Most scenes would unfold inside a "space station," requiring hyper-realistic sets to avoid viewer scrutiny.
"You'll also experience real zero-gravity here. Have fun," Martin grinned.
Leonardo shrugged it off—he'd endured Martin's "torture" on Inception's rotating corridor. Zero-G? No big deal. But SCH's setup was leagues beyond that gimmick. The gear flipped his stomach, and he kept crashing into walls.
Jessica, initially nervous, adapted fast. Her dance and combat training gave her superior balance, letting her glide through the simulated "space cabin" with ease.
"I'm getting old," Leonardo groaned.
…
"I need a lightbox made of LED screens, about six meters high, three wide," Martin gestured. "It should display high-res space visuals, ship interiors—Jessica shouldn't face a green screen to imagine it. This'll make her feel immersed."
"Building the lightbox is doable, but high-res images might lose quality on-screen, falling short of photorealistic," a technician noted.
"No issue. The lightbox is for actor immersion. We'll layer CG in post to make it look real, like they're in space or a ship," Martin replied.
"For zero-gravity, I want it more realistic than any other sci-fi film. Inception's corridor is a reference, but we need better."
"It's a 3D film, so the cosmos, ship interiors, and zero-G must be near-perfect, giving audiences an immersive experience."
Martin envisioned Gravity on an IMAX-3D screen, plunging viewers with 3D glasses into a pitch-black theater, feeling like they're on a real space journey. Most station scenes would be shot on built sets, but the vast space vistas would rely entirely on CG.
"Meyers, for hyper-realistic zero-G, we could speed up the rotating corridor, but regular cameras might blur or lag capturing the actors," a tech warned.
Martin tapped his memory. "I've got this. BotDolly's IRIS motion-control system has seven-axis freedom, tracking shots up to 10.8 meters at 4 meters per second, with 0.08mm precision. Fix the actors to a rig, let IRIS control the camera to simulate flips and rolls."
He recalled 1995's Apollo 13 with Tom Hanks, shot using the "Vomit Comet"—a plane flying parabolic arcs to create 25-30 seconds of zero-G per dive. The crew filmed one shot at a time in those windows. Hanks reportedly stumbled off the plane, stomach in knots, unable to eat.
Today's tech made such scenes safer, less brutal.
From Houston, Leonardo begged to differ.
"Ughhh!"
This isn't brutal?