Write beats in verbs that translate to achievable moves: peek, tilt, slide, reveal. Replace risky cross‑stage sprints with clever wipes and layered panels that travel less distance. Cap scene lengths to protect set integrity and animator focus. Mark beats requiring replacement mouth shapes or alternate arms, pre‑bagging each labeled variation. Build a fatigue budget, scheduling meticulous shots immediately after breaks. Finally, list exit strategies for shots that refuse to behave—alternate angles, tighter crops, or story pivots that maintain narrative truth while honoring the reality that paper deserves patience, steady breath, and reasonable expectations.
Boards often describe character motion but forget how the lens participates. Draw arrows for pulls, pans, and racks; declare focal lengths; note height relative to the stage deck. Indicate foreground cards and matte windows, because their edges will dictate parallax. Add icons for flags, bounces, and practical lamps you intend to see in frame. These sketches become a social contract for your future self, saving hours of indecision when a delicate wall starts to curl. Good boards honor the theater, guiding choreography so every camera choice amplifies the charm of layered paper architecture.
Cut boards to an animatic with temp foley—rustles, creaks, footsteps—and a scratch narration. Immediately you’ll hear dead air and discover beats begging for breath. Translate timing into X‑sheets, mapping frame counts, lighting cues, and replacement part calls. Mark holds, slow‑ins, and slow‑outs with frame numbers readable at a glance. If lip‑sync appears, sketch phoneme charts that fit the character’s mouth design. Shooting on twos at twenty‑four display frames means twelve captured frames per second; note exceptions for intricate business. Clear paperwork transforms marathon sessions into a calm sequence of achievable micro‑goals.
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