Compressed timelines and vertical framing demand absolute clarity, as a 90-minute story shot in four days offers no buffer for experimentation once the camera rolls.
For actor Anurag Vyas, the defining challenge of vertical cinema lies not in acting technique, but in rhythm. When a complete 90-minute narrative is filmed in just four days, performance becomes a test of emotional endurance, mental clarity, and uninterrupted focus.
“As an artist, I don’t change my acting I change my pace,” Vyas says. Vertical storytelling, he explains, operates on compressed timelines where scenes are shot back-to-back with minimal emotional recovery time. Actors are expected to sustain character continuity across intense emotional shifts without the luxury of extended breaks or multiple rehearsals.
“It demands that you respect rhythm as much as emotion. Because emotion without rhythm collapses, and rhythm without understanding feels empty.”
– Anurag Vyas
This demand reshapes the entire production workflow. Writing teams structure scripts with faster scene progression and minimal redundancy. Direction focuses on clarity and decisiveness. Editing teams work simultaneously with production, meaning every take must be usable. There is no buffer for experimentation or improvisation once the camera rolls.
Camera framing further amplifies this pressure. Vertical compositions restrict visual space, making emotional accuracy non-negotiable. Performers cannot rely on physical movement or environmental scale to convey emotion. Instead, emotional truth must be maintained within limited visual margins, often in prolonged close-ups.
Unlike traditional long-format productions, where emotional arcs may be built gradually over weeks of shooting, vertical cinema requires actors to carry emotions continuously. A confrontation scene may be shot immediately after a moment of vulnerability, demanding instant emotional recalibration without losing authenticity.
“The story doesn’t wait for you to catch up,” Vyas explains. “You have to arrive emotionally loaded and mentally clear.” This constant demand for readiness makes vertical cinema particularly unforgiving. Confusion, hesitation, or emotional inconsistency can derail the entire day’s schedule.
For the audience, this rhythm creates momentum-driven storytelling. Scenes move quickly, emotions shift decisively, and engagement remains high. Vertical cinema does not allow viewers to disengage and it does not allow performers to disengage either.
Reflecting on his transition, Vyas notes, “For me, the shift was never about acting differently. It was about thinking faster, responding quicker, and staying emotionally present throughout.”
In this sense, vertical cinema becomes a discipline of control. It tests preparation, emotional stamina, and respect for time. The format may be new, but its demands are absolute proving that storytelling intensity is not defined by screen size, but by rhythm and readiness