Why a mouse is the wrong tool for a camera move
A staged scene gives a production a camera that is numbers — position, height, lens, target — and the 3D previs page is about why that matters. But a camera move is a different thing from a camera position. A position is a decision; a move is a performance. The push that slows as it arrives, the pan that leads the subject by a beat, the slight settle at the end of a handheld drift: none of those is a number, and all of them are what makes a shot feel like somebody was behind the camera.
A mouse cannot do them, and it is worth saying why rather than just asserting it. On a desktop, moving a camera is three separate gestures — orbit, pan, dolly — bound to three different drags, and a real move is all three at once, continuously, with the hand's own weight in it. The result of blocking with a mouse is a move made of straight segments and even speeds, which is exactly how a camera on rails looks and exactly how a human-operated camera does not. Directors who have tried it describe the frames as correct and dead.
The laptop is the right place for the brain and the stage. It is the wrong place for the body. The phone in a pocket has a gyroscope, an accelerometer, a screen and a radio, which is to say it has everything a camera body needs except glass, and in previs the glass is simulated anyway.
How a phone becomes the camera, step by step
Stage the set on the laptop. The scene is built in CineForge as it would be for any blocking pass: the stand-ins at real size, the lights, the camera's starting position. The phone does not need the scene built for it; it needs the scene to exist.
Pair by code. The room shows a pairing code and a link; the phone opens the link and the two are connected. Nothing is installed and nobody on the phone signs in. The pairing page is public on purpose — a director can hand the link to a cinematographer who has never used the product, and it works, because the only credential it needs rides in the link itself.
Look through the eyepiece. The phone's screen draws the staged set from the camera's point of view, in the project's frame, with the stand-ins where the laptop put them. Pick a lens on the phone. Turn, and the camera turns; the laptop's viewport mirrors what the phone sees, so the people around the laptop watch the shot being found.
Choose the horizon. Follow keeps the roll of the hand in the shot, for a handheld feel. Level keeps the horizon straight whatever the hand does, like a gimbal. It is a choice, remembered per handset, and written onto the take so a replay knows which was meant.
Record a take. Press record, perform the move, stop. Every pose the phone recorded — not a fitted handful of keys, every one — lands in the room as a take with a slate, on the timeline, and the room plays it back through the set exactly as it was walked. A move that was walked twice is two takes, and the better one is kept the way a better take is kept on set.
Use the move. The recorded camera is now part of the staged scene: a render in Director inherits it, the techvis sheet reads it, and a shot list row carries its lens and its path. What was a performance in a hand is now a plan a crew can rig to.
What goes wrong, and what this does not do
Position is the hard part of a phone. A handset knows its orientation precisely; its position it knows only where the platform offers real tracking, and then walking is the dolly. Where it does not, Pocket Cam is honest about it: aim, roll and lens come from the hand, and the camera's position comes from a move pad and a height slider on the phone — a dolly and crane rig laid at your feet, which is why it does not re-aim as you turn to look. For a tracked position on a real set with real hardware, a dedicated camera-tracking rig is the right tool and this is not a substitute for it.
A take that drops frames. A phone backgrounded mid-take, a connection that stutters. A late pose is dropped rather than drawn out of order, and a take ends where the watching ended rather than stretching over dead time; the strip on the phone says when a take has landed and offers to send it again when it has not.
The set that moved. Somebody on the laptop moves a wall while the phone is framing it. The phone is told the set changed and redraws, so the eyepiece is never a stale picture of a room that no longer exists.
Mistaking the eyepiece for a viewfinder. The phone shows the staged set, not the world through its own lens. It is a previs instrument for a scene that exists on the laptop, and it does nothing on a location without one.
Where PREVIZ does it
Pocket Cam is part of CineForge: the pairing lives in the room's camera panel, the eyepiece is a public page the phone opens from the link, and the takes land on the room's timeline beside the moves blocked by hand on the laptop. It needs no app, no engine and no account on the phone, and it works on the same staged set the rest of the production uses, under the same locks. The rooms page describes CineForge in depth; the workflow overview places the camera pass among the six stages; and pricing is by credits, with the pairing itself free.
Questions people ask
What is a virtual camera app?
A phone or tablet app that stands in for the camera body: its orientation and movement drive a virtual camera in a 3D scene on a computer, and the phone's screen shows what that camera sees. It turns a blocking pass from a mouse exercise into a thing done by hand.
Do I need special hardware or an engine installed?
No. Pocket Cam is a page in the browser. The room shows a code, the phone opens the link, and the two are paired. Nobody on the phone needs an account; a director can hand the link to a cinematographer who has never seen the product.
What does a recorded take contain?
Every pose the phone recorded — position, orientation including roll, and the lens — replayed exactly as it was walked, not fitted to a handful of keyframes. The take lands on the room's timeline with a slate, and the room plays the move through the staged set.
Can it keep the horizon level?
Either way, as a choice. Follow keeps the roll of your hand in the shot, for a handheld feel; Level keeps the horizon straight whatever the hand does, like a gimbal. It is remembered per handset and written on the take.