The Cutting Room Floor
I The first time I met Jack Morrison, he was standing in the doorway of a screening room in Tribeca, watching the same five minutes of footage on a loop while drinking coffee that had gone cold three hours ago. "You're the community liaison," he said. Not a question. "I'm Daisy Brooks. And you're the guy who told me to stop talking and let the footage speak for itself." He nodded toward the...
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