Wan 3.0: Prompt Guide

Prompt

One continuous 30-second low-altitude chase shot, a single unbroken take with no cuts, shot at greyhound speed. On a vast muted-green lawn a distinguished older man in a cream golf outfit lines up a putt at a banana lying on the grass; a slender grey greyhound wearing a knitted cream balaclava snatches the banana at the exact moment of the putt and bolts; the camera drops to ten centimeters off the ground and chases the dog flat-out for the rest of the film. 0-5s: the theft: club swings, the dog's jaws close on the banana mid-stroke and it accelerates away in three strides, ears flat inside the balaclava; the golfer watches it go without any expression; the camera whips down and after it, grass streaking past the lens. 5-11s: across the lawn at full sprint, weaving between motionless cream sheep who do not react; the dog leaps a low hedge, the camera vaulting it a half-beat behind. 11-17s: through a butter-yellow doorway into a whitewashed coastal street, claws skittering on cobblestones, laundry lines whipping overhead; the dog cuts left as a red city bus sweeps past behind it as one long streak of motion blur. 17-23s: out of the street straight into a blush-pink world flooded ankle-deep with glassy water: the dog charges through in sheets of spray, past an elegant woman standing in a red paper boat who turns her head slowly to watch it pass, spray hanging in pink light. 23-27s: up an ochre steppe slope, petals and dust kicked up in its wake, the camera swinging wide alongside as the dog bounds onto a single rounded black boulder at the top. 27-30s: the dog places the banana carefully on the very top of the boulder like a trophy, sits bolt upright beside it, perfectly still, and stares into the lens, deadpan, balaclava slightly askew. Far below on the lawn, the tiny figure of the golfer raises his putter once in salute. Audio: the chase scored by galloping paws on grass, then cobbles, then water, then dust - each surface changing the rhythm's texture; wind rush, one bus whoosh, one splash crescendo, sheep silence; a sprinting string ostinato that locks to the paw rhythm and cuts dead at 27s, leaving only wind and the dog's breathing. Lens 35-50mm, stabilized low tracking, level horizon even at speed. Generate a single shot, one continuous take. Style: editorial, refined, fashion-forward, deadpan surrealist fashion film with high kinetic energy. Grade: slightly desaturated, lifted blacks, compressed milky highlights, low contrast while colors stay legible, light 35mm film grain, faint halation on highlights only, matte print-like finish, warm cream as the neutral instead of pure white. ABSOLUTELY NO on-screen text, no titles, no captions, no logos, no typography of any kind anywhere in the frame. Negative: no harsh contrast, no HDR, no crushed blacks, no clipped whites, no neon saturation, no fisheye, no dutch angle, no smiling or mugging at the camera, no CGI gloss.

Prompt

ONE SINGLE CONTINUOUS SHOT — a 30-second take in 4:3, NO cuts: one camera that starts locked-off and then travels one slow half-circle dolly around a barber chair, with the punchlines delivered by moving CLOSE to details, never by cutting. A small old barbershop in a single sage-green world: sage painted walls, cream wainscoting, worn terracotta tile floor, one bentwood waiting bench, glass bottles of green tonic on a shelf, soft morning light through the shopfront glass. In the barber chair, wearing the full striped barber cape, sits a large leafy TOPIARY BUSH. Behind it stands the barber: an older heavyset man, white moustache, putty smock, sleeves rolled. On the bench a middle-aged man in a sage cardigan waits with a potted fern on his lap, reading a folded newspaper. Everyone treats all of this as completely ordinary. 0-6s: static wide; the barber shakes out the cape, tucks it at the bush's 'neck', pumps the chair up twice with two heavy clunks, and asks flatly: "The usual?" — the bush answers with one small polite rustle. The waiting man turns a page. 6-13s: the camera begins its slow half-circle; the barber mists the bush from a brass atomizer — close on the leaves beading with droplets — then combs it with a wide wooden comb, the foliage parting in neat tracks like hair. 13-20s: the trim: precise scissor-work in a quick confident rhythm, leaf clippings falling into a tidy cone on the terracotta tiles; close on the scissors flashing; close on the barber's unhurried, professional squint; the fern on the bench trembles very slightly, watching. 20-26s: the reveal: the barber spins the chair to face the mirror — the bush has been trimmed into a PERFECT POODLE silhouette, pom-poms and all; a held beat of silence; then the poodle-bush shakes itself exactly like a wet dog, shedding two leaves, and settles proudly. 26-30s: the barber whisks the cape off with a matador snap, sweeps once with a broom, and looks at the waiting bench. The man lowers his newspaper, looks down at his own fern with mild concern, and the fern's fronds droop shyly. The barber, deadpan: "Next." Hold on the fern. Audio: cape shake, two chair-pump clunks, mist puffs, comb strokes through leaves, then the scissors settling into a light waltz rhythm that becomes the score; the dog-shake rustle; broom strokes; total silence before "Next."; one page-turn after it. Lens 40-50mm, level, unhurried; sage single-hue world with the terracotta pot and floor as the only warm accent; the joke is never acknowledged by anyone. Art direction (Pika R3): colors soft but vibrant, true to subject, cream as the neutral instead of pure white; lighting one enormous soft source, shadows filled so every texture reads; grade natural and restrained, low-to-moderate contrast, open detailed shadows, subtle fine 35mm film grain, faint halation on highlights only, matte print-like finish, no color cast, no teal-and-orange, no HDR, no crushed blacks, no neon saturation. Every impossible event is physically real and practical-looking — NO glow, NO sparkles, NO particle magic, NO fantasy effects. All faces deadpan, composed, never mugging or winking at the joke. ABSOLUTELY NO on-screen text, no titles, no captions, no logos, no typography anywhere.