When directors Seth Rogen and Evan Goldberg set out to capture the chaotic realities of Hollywood in The Studio, they tasked cinematographer Adam Newport Berra with injecting an immediate sense of anxiety and panic into the visual language. The goal was to put the audience directly inside the high-stress environment of a major film studio. Achieving that kinetic energy required throwing out standard coverage and engineering highly specific camera workflows.

In the video below, Adam Newport Berra breaks down his technical approach to the series, detailing how he navigated impossible locations, managed reflections, and executed continuous takes without sacrificing the comedy.

The Skate Video Foundation

Adam Newport Berra did not enter film school intending to be a cinematographer. Like many young filmmakers, his initial goal was to direct. However, his visual foundation was built heavily on watching 1990s and early 2000s skate videos from companies like Trans World, studying the dynamic, fluid camera work of directors like Spike Jonze.

When he arrived at film school, that background gave him a distinct advantage. He quickly realized he was significantly more proficient with a camera than his peers. By consistently operating the camera for student groups, he organically developed the technical skillset required to take a director’s abstract vision and shape it into a tangible, visual reality.

Engineering the Donut Table

To generate the frantic energy requested by Rogen and Goldberg, the camera needed to invade the personal space of the characters. During a critical conference room scene involving Catherine O’Hara and Ron Howard, the crew needed the camera to physically crawl across a long table while the actors delivered their lines. Suspending the camera on a wire rig or having grips lean over the table proved impractical.

Seth Rogen proposed a highly practical solution: cut a hole directly out of the center of the conference table.

Dubbed the “donut table,” the crew utilized a customized table with a hollowed-out middle and removable flaps on either end. As an actor like Catherine O’Hara leaned on the solid edge of the table, the camera operator could seamlessly slide into the hollow center, moving right past her as grips pulled the flaps out of the way. To finish the illusion, the VFX team captured extensive plates of a standard, uncut table from multiple angles, patching the empty space in post-production.

Because the room featured massive glass windows, the team had to meticulously manage reflections. They utilized vertical gimbals to slightly angle the glass and positioned grips holding flags directly behind the camera operator to block unwanted light. When minor reflections occasionally slipped through color correction, Berra chose to leave them in, viewing those slight imperfections as authentic reminders of the physical filmmaking process.

Protecting the Comedy in a “One-Shot”

For the second episode featuring Sarah Polley, the script called for a massive, continuous moving sequence involving two separate crews and multiple location changes. While capturing the sequence as a true “oner” was technically possible, Berra deemed it irresponsible to the material.

Shooting a massive, multi-location scene in a single take often limits a production to only three or four usable takes per day. In a comedy, restricting the actors’ ability to improvise, find the timing, and try alternate deliveries actively hurts the final product. Instead of being dogmatically attached to the one-shot gimmick, the team broke the sequence into four distinct sections. Over four days, they shot the arrival, the interior progression, and the exterior environments, finding seamless stitch points to blend the sections together without suffocating the comedic performances.

The Magic Hour Glass House

The location chosen for this sequence presented one of the most difficult lighting logistical challenges of the series. The house was an open-concept architectural build perched directly on the top of a steep ridge, featuring floor-to-ceiling glass walls on all sides.

Typically, a cinematographer will combat direct sunlight in a glass house by flying massive diffusion solids on cranes outside the windows, allowing them to push motivated, controlled light inside to fake a “magic hour” look all day. Because the house sat on a sheer drop-off, there were absolutely no flat surfaces to park a crane or position large lighting fixtures.

Without the ability to control the sun, the production had to adapt to the environment. The crew arrived every morning and spent up to eight hours meticulously rehearsing the camera movements and blocking. They held off on recording entirely until an hour before sunset, rolling continuously into the dusk until they lost the light, ensuring the sequence maintained a consistent, authentic golden hour aesthetic.

When The Studio premiered at South by Southwest, the fan-centric audience treated the screening like a celebratory riot, laughing over the dialogue. However, when the show screened in Los Angeles for an audience of industry professionals, Berra noted a palpable tension in the room. The aggressive, chaotic visual language and sharp writing hit incredibly close to home for the executives and creatives in the crowd. Thus, proving the exact anxiety Rogen, Goldberg, and Berra set out to capture had successfully translated to the screen.