On a bitter morning in early April, on the south shore of Flathead Lake in northwestern Montana, Vera Brunner-Sung stood still behind a camera. At first, all was quiet. Then came the hollow knocking of an actress’ boots on the dock, and seagulls crying, and water lapping at the trestles. Suddenly, everything seemed quite loud: A nail gun; a truck in reverse; a plane overhead. “Cut,” Brunner-Sung called. She wore stiff jeans, leather boots with cowboy heels and an old blue coat. Thick dark hair topped her lanky frame. “I liked that,” she said. “Let’s move on.” […]
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