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It doesn’t get any pettier and mean-girlie than “Did she sandblast her face or something? It’s very waxy.”

Bright and bloody, sandblasted and sunworn, it has the visual crispness of the first and doesn’t bear the strange desaturated look of some of the director’s recent work.

“Are you sandblasting them? … Those are important pieces of things to know about future missions.”

But the threat never disappeared, afflicting workers who were sandblasting denim and tombstones and toiling in mines.

Once through the machine, one of the final products is a gritty powder, mostly glass, that can be sold for use as a sandblasting material.