The shoot is a lonely time for the Producer. The film-set is the nucleus for all activity, everyone is waiting and working in that small space around the camera where the film is actually being shot and the Producer, the one in most cases responsible for getting them all there, is thrust out to the outskirts to watch his child grow from afar. He is not needed on-set, and indeed is not welcome there. I suppose normally this would be a less busy time for the Producer as they simply wait until the footage starts trickling in, or until a problem arises, but this was not my experience. Being my own runner I found that I was doing a lot of just that; running. I don’t know how many times I ran from that production office to the props store (where our set was built) and back again; getting updates so I could make up tomorrow’s call sheet, checking progress so I would know anything that was needed and most of all, rather amusingly, catering! A film crew marches on its stomach and the responsibility fell to me to ensure that tea/coffee, cold drinks, snacks and of course a hot meal were available and replenished each day. Next the role of DIT (the person who backs up the digital footage) needed to be filled and so I ended up doing that as well. So from a lonely Producer I went to being an equally lonely but much busier Producer/Runner/Caterer/DIT. That, I suppose, is the nature of the student film.
Whilst engaged in all these ‘behind-the-scenes’ tasks I had some time to evaluate my attitude and learn some interesting things about myself. I like to be on-set, in amongst the action, and I don’t like the feeling of being an unwanted, even dreaded, presence there. I also like working with others; it challenges me. I can work quite cheerfully on my own, and I do, but I achieve more if there are others for me to bounce off and respond to. I like acclaim, one of my flaws perhaps, and whenever I am working I like to know the fruit of my labour will be noticed and appreciated. And I like leading. I enjoy being in charge, commanding a team and having responsibility. My experience on the shoot of Broken Bubbles has proved to be a gentle illumination that these characteristics are part of my flaws as a Producer. Being mildly disorganised and over-committed is not a major problem as these things can be worked upon and sorted relatively easily, but it seems to me that a Producer is an engine; a quiet but powerful force that fuels the film and most importantly serves the production. This is where my preference of being amongst the action, working with people, wanting acclaim and wanting to lead can become counter-productive because it means I struggle to serve. Without a doubt all that I have done on this shoot; the sitting before a phone or computer, the running of errands, the tidying and clearing of the food table, the organising and labelling of VFX reference shots; all has been a humbling and much needed lesson in serving, for which I am truly thankful.
I am pleased and proud to say that as many as are my failings as a Producer there are just as many strengths of this film. I’ve caught a glimpse of the actors’ performances, I’ve sensed the atmosphere on-set and I’ve even had a peek at some of the footage and I can honestly say I think Broken Bubbles could turn out to be a powerful and special short film. I look forward to seeing it.
Saturday, 26 June 2010
Monday, 21 June 2010
Edinburgh International Film Festival 2010
Here are some reflections on my experiences in this year’s festival, the sixty-fourth of its kind.
Jackboots on Whitehall was a shock start to the weekend. Somehow I’d got it into my mind it was a documentary. How wrong I was. This was an irreverent British comedy presenting a ridiculous retelling of the ending of World War II, stop-motion animated with beautiful puppets, scenery and photography. It was genuinely funny on many occasions but just a little too often it misjudged itself and didn’t quite hit the mark. In some ways it’s a shame the film looked so good because due to the nature of some of the content it can only be enjoyed by a niche audience. That’s the danger with ‘boundary-pushing’ liberal humour; the filmmaker risks alienating his audience and it certainly spoiled the experience for me. I passed Sir Patrick Stewart, who’d been in the screening, on the way out and that made it all a bit more worth it!
Murdo and I attended an industry event called Lunch with the Producers which was lunch followed by a discussion with a panel of successful producers (including Andrea Calderwood the Producer of Last King of Scotland and Generation Kill and a good friend of Barbara one of our TV Content tutors). Unfortunately the actual lunch was fully booked but being the sly dogs that we are Murdo and I managed to snaffle some substantial snacks from the leftovers while people took their time moving into the next room. The discussion was mildly captivating, and it was interesting that the assumed main difference between the successful Producers postulating and advising from the panel and the learner ‘producers’ listening and taking notes in the audience was simply location. We in the audience were based in Scotland. They in the panel were not. I am realising more and more the international nature of the film industry and the need to start thinking outside the box of Glasgow, or Scotland, or even Britain, and start considering where I fit in this global community of film.
Cinema Extreme, a short film initiative, was next on the menu and consisted of three short films, one produced by David Smith the Executive Producer of our DFTV Grad films. Short films have a tendency to leave me annoyed and dissatisfied. These were no exception. The Pizza Miracle was slightly more entertaining than the other two but it wasn’t relentlessly funny enough – which I think a short comedy needs to be – and it didn’t quite live up to its title for me.
Having seen very little of Ben Miller’s work I am unable to call myself a fan, but who could fail to love the loyal Bough in Johnny English or wonder at the sensitively ambitious dance teacher in Razzle Dazzle both brought to life by this witty and loveable British comedian. The feature film Huge was a charming buddy comedy about stand-up comedians, the directorial debut for Ben Miller, and it was a good film – not anything amazing – but definitely an entertaining watch. In fact it was a enjoyable night altogether. Lots of the cast and crew were there and Miller had organised to start the night with a stand-up comedian, as a sort of warm-up act before the film. It was a nice idea. As it happened the stand-up comedian was pretty bad but somehow that made the film seem better, and then there was a quick Q&A with Miller himself, and a few others, which just rounded it off nicely. One thing I noted whilst watching Huge on one of the biggest screens in the Cineworld was the lack of cinematic photography. There were far too many close ups, too much dizzying hand-held camera and not enough use of that generous wide space. For a Director and Cinematographer who have done a lot of TV I suppose this is an understandable oversight, but I was grateful for the reminder that the moviemaker projecting their story in front of a cinema audience needs to remember one very important fact; that screen is pretty darn huge.
It is with some guilt that I must admit that one of the most purely entertaining films I watched at the festival was the late Friday night showing of a Greek zombie movie called Evil in the Time of Heroes. I confess I never expected it to be so funny. The highest praise I can give is that within the first few minutes I had left all my prejudices, and most of my faculties, behind and was caught up in the most ridiculous and incomprehensible mess of fake blood and comic violence imaginable. I must be quick to add at this point that this is by no means my type of film, and there are definitely bits, even whole elements, of it that I neither condone nor enjoy. Zombie movies are the lazy man’s game. Throw in enough guts and gore and perhaps the audience will be so distracted that they won’t notice the story doesn’t work, or more likely they won’t care. It’s true, and it works, but ultimately it’s a false victory and sooner or later people crave for something deeper. Nevertheless, if a film is well-made then it is worthy of commendation and Evil in the Time of Heroes certainly raised the bar as far as independent features are concerned. If nothing else it is a substantial calling card for its Director Yorgos Noussias (who was at the screening for a Q&A session) who I expect may go on to work on bigger, and hopefully more tasteful and cohesive, projects.
Obselidia was another directorial debut this time from a woman with a Masters in Mental Philosophy… and I could tell. It wasn’t so much a film, in the conventional sense, as a study of certain attitudes and philosophies. I quite liked this side of it, and I liked the overall message, although at times the writing did jar slightly coming across as somewhat unnatural, verging on ‘preachy’, and the humour was sometimes a bit stodgy, though very necessary. My main issue with it was that instead of a narrative, pushing the story onto its climax, it had a ramble. Maybe it’s just my Hollywood-influenced need for a driving plot but I do know I wasn’t the only one feeling just a tad bored. Ben Miller happened to be sitting in the row in front and I could sense him, and quite a few others around me, shifting and shuffling in their seats at various points. The director’s biggest fear; bum sore! And the last few minutes were atrocious. The endings just kept coming; it was like Return of the King but without nine hours justification! I reckon one or two test screenings with the Diane Bell (the Director) taking careful note of audience reaction could have helped this film a lot.
Vacation! wasn’t great. It all hung on the one sense that somehow we knew this holiday would not turn out well. It was doomed by the quick cut opening images of newspaper headlines mentioning ‘a body’ and cleverly this was what drew us in and made us invest in the characters for almost an hour. The problem arose then when our suspicions were confirmed and ‘something’ happened but then nothing else happened after that. What life and expectation the film had built up to that point just slowly drained away, until it was all gone, and then the film finally ended. I could see what Writer/Director/Editor Zach Clark was trying to do, and I think he made his point but maybe at the expense of making a good film. Stylishly put together, particularly well edited, this film made an impression but didn’t rank very high on my enjoyment list… and the title certainly doesn’t merit that exclamation mark.
The Rise and Rise of Michael Rimmer was probably the most all round enjoyable film I saw all weekend; a good British comedy laden with political satire so ahead of its time that it has now become more relevant rather than becoming dated. I must admit I was surprised, and sometimes a bit disappointed, at some of the content or nature of the jokes but overall it was a satisfyingly funny and entertaining watch. It was also a cracking story, the classic tale of a man who starts out as nothing but rises and rises until he has achieved ultimate power. For me the key to its success was the way in which it made the anti-hero Michael Rimmer (played by Peter Cook) both funny and loveable, and yet so clearly bad (he does actually murder the prime minister… and it’s funny!). Like any good comedy this gives the film a dual functionality; it’s entertaining, as films should be, and we laugh when we watch it; but it’s also truth and when the humour wears off we have something serious to think about.
Murdo and I attended another panellist discussion on The Casting Process which provided a brief but useful insight into the life of a casting director. I would have been ninety percent less interested if I had not known that Amy Hubbard (one of the panellists) was in fact casting director on The Lord of the Rings and was currently casting for The Hobbit! The actor within me quite enjoyed the advice about auditions (be prepared!) and agents but it was useful to be reminded that for a director casting is more about finding the chemistry, someone who is on the same page, than it is about working on the character. That comes after.
Nénette was a calm and relaxing finish to my weekend viewings. This was an hour-long French documentary composed of long static shots observing its subject, the eponymous forty-year-old orangutan, with a soundtrack consisting of people talking about her. Its slow and sleepy pace allowed plenty of space for personal discovery and also for, eh… sleeping, which I did a little bit of. What can I say? It was a tiring weekend!
Jackboots on Whitehall was a shock start to the weekend. Somehow I’d got it into my mind it was a documentary. How wrong I was. This was an irreverent British comedy presenting a ridiculous retelling of the ending of World War II, stop-motion animated with beautiful puppets, scenery and photography. It was genuinely funny on many occasions but just a little too often it misjudged itself and didn’t quite hit the mark. In some ways it’s a shame the film looked so good because due to the nature of some of the content it can only be enjoyed by a niche audience. That’s the danger with ‘boundary-pushing’ liberal humour; the filmmaker risks alienating his audience and it certainly spoiled the experience for me. I passed Sir Patrick Stewart, who’d been in the screening, on the way out and that made it all a bit more worth it!
Murdo and I attended an industry event called Lunch with the Producers which was lunch followed by a discussion with a panel of successful producers (including Andrea Calderwood the Producer of Last King of Scotland and Generation Kill and a good friend of Barbara one of our TV Content tutors). Unfortunately the actual lunch was fully booked but being the sly dogs that we are Murdo and I managed to snaffle some substantial snacks from the leftovers while people took their time moving into the next room. The discussion was mildly captivating, and it was interesting that the assumed main difference between the successful Producers postulating and advising from the panel and the learner ‘producers’ listening and taking notes in the audience was simply location. We in the audience were based in Scotland. They in the panel were not. I am realising more and more the international nature of the film industry and the need to start thinking outside the box of Glasgow, or Scotland, or even Britain, and start considering where I fit in this global community of film.
Cinema Extreme, a short film initiative, was next on the menu and consisted of three short films, one produced by David Smith the Executive Producer of our DFTV Grad films. Short films have a tendency to leave me annoyed and dissatisfied. These were no exception. The Pizza Miracle was slightly more entertaining than the other two but it wasn’t relentlessly funny enough – which I think a short comedy needs to be – and it didn’t quite live up to its title for me.
Having seen very little of Ben Miller’s work I am unable to call myself a fan, but who could fail to love the loyal Bough in Johnny English or wonder at the sensitively ambitious dance teacher in Razzle Dazzle both brought to life by this witty and loveable British comedian. The feature film Huge was a charming buddy comedy about stand-up comedians, the directorial debut for Ben Miller, and it was a good film – not anything amazing – but definitely an entertaining watch. In fact it was a enjoyable night altogether. Lots of the cast and crew were there and Miller had organised to start the night with a stand-up comedian, as a sort of warm-up act before the film. It was a nice idea. As it happened the stand-up comedian was pretty bad but somehow that made the film seem better, and then there was a quick Q&A with Miller himself, and a few others, which just rounded it off nicely. One thing I noted whilst watching Huge on one of the biggest screens in the Cineworld was the lack of cinematic photography. There were far too many close ups, too much dizzying hand-held camera and not enough use of that generous wide space. For a Director and Cinematographer who have done a lot of TV I suppose this is an understandable oversight, but I was grateful for the reminder that the moviemaker projecting their story in front of a cinema audience needs to remember one very important fact; that screen is pretty darn huge.
It is with some guilt that I must admit that one of the most purely entertaining films I watched at the festival was the late Friday night showing of a Greek zombie movie called Evil in the Time of Heroes. I confess I never expected it to be so funny. The highest praise I can give is that within the first few minutes I had left all my prejudices, and most of my faculties, behind and was caught up in the most ridiculous and incomprehensible mess of fake blood and comic violence imaginable. I must be quick to add at this point that this is by no means my type of film, and there are definitely bits, even whole elements, of it that I neither condone nor enjoy. Zombie movies are the lazy man’s game. Throw in enough guts and gore and perhaps the audience will be so distracted that they won’t notice the story doesn’t work, or more likely they won’t care. It’s true, and it works, but ultimately it’s a false victory and sooner or later people crave for something deeper. Nevertheless, if a film is well-made then it is worthy of commendation and Evil in the Time of Heroes certainly raised the bar as far as independent features are concerned. If nothing else it is a substantial calling card for its Director Yorgos Noussias (who was at the screening for a Q&A session) who I expect may go on to work on bigger, and hopefully more tasteful and cohesive, projects.
Obselidia was another directorial debut this time from a woman with a Masters in Mental Philosophy… and I could tell. It wasn’t so much a film, in the conventional sense, as a study of certain attitudes and philosophies. I quite liked this side of it, and I liked the overall message, although at times the writing did jar slightly coming across as somewhat unnatural, verging on ‘preachy’, and the humour was sometimes a bit stodgy, though very necessary. My main issue with it was that instead of a narrative, pushing the story onto its climax, it had a ramble. Maybe it’s just my Hollywood-influenced need for a driving plot but I do know I wasn’t the only one feeling just a tad bored. Ben Miller happened to be sitting in the row in front and I could sense him, and quite a few others around me, shifting and shuffling in their seats at various points. The director’s biggest fear; bum sore! And the last few minutes were atrocious. The endings just kept coming; it was like Return of the King but without nine hours justification! I reckon one or two test screenings with the Diane Bell (the Director) taking careful note of audience reaction could have helped this film a lot.
Vacation! wasn’t great. It all hung on the one sense that somehow we knew this holiday would not turn out well. It was doomed by the quick cut opening images of newspaper headlines mentioning ‘a body’ and cleverly this was what drew us in and made us invest in the characters for almost an hour. The problem arose then when our suspicions were confirmed and ‘something’ happened but then nothing else happened after that. What life and expectation the film had built up to that point just slowly drained away, until it was all gone, and then the film finally ended. I could see what Writer/Director/Editor Zach Clark was trying to do, and I think he made his point but maybe at the expense of making a good film. Stylishly put together, particularly well edited, this film made an impression but didn’t rank very high on my enjoyment list… and the title certainly doesn’t merit that exclamation mark.
The Rise and Rise of Michael Rimmer was probably the most all round enjoyable film I saw all weekend; a good British comedy laden with political satire so ahead of its time that it has now become more relevant rather than becoming dated. I must admit I was surprised, and sometimes a bit disappointed, at some of the content or nature of the jokes but overall it was a satisfyingly funny and entertaining watch. It was also a cracking story, the classic tale of a man who starts out as nothing but rises and rises until he has achieved ultimate power. For me the key to its success was the way in which it made the anti-hero Michael Rimmer (played by Peter Cook) both funny and loveable, and yet so clearly bad (he does actually murder the prime minister… and it’s funny!). Like any good comedy this gives the film a dual functionality; it’s entertaining, as films should be, and we laugh when we watch it; but it’s also truth and when the humour wears off we have something serious to think about.
Murdo and I attended another panellist discussion on The Casting Process which provided a brief but useful insight into the life of a casting director. I would have been ninety percent less interested if I had not known that Amy Hubbard (one of the panellists) was in fact casting director on The Lord of the Rings and was currently casting for The Hobbit! The actor within me quite enjoyed the advice about auditions (be prepared!) and agents but it was useful to be reminded that for a director casting is more about finding the chemistry, someone who is on the same page, than it is about working on the character. That comes after.
Nénette was a calm and relaxing finish to my weekend viewings. This was an hour-long French documentary composed of long static shots observing its subject, the eponymous forty-year-old orangutan, with a soundtrack consisting of people talking about her. Its slow and sleepy pace allowed plenty of space for personal discovery and also for, eh… sleeping, which I did a little bit of. What can I say? It was a tiring weekend!
Thursday, 17 June 2010
Producing - Week Four
A rather lonely week. Everyone from my class has been either preparing to leave for the U.S. or on the shoot for Breathing Room. I am now the only one in the class who hasn’t been on set for one of our end-of-year films... boohoo. Never mind, I have my turn next week. As it happens it was rather pleasant to have a quiet and peaceful few days in which to hack away at the production tasks still to be done. For this was indeed the last full week of prep for Broken Bubbles. This coming Wednesday, we shoot!
A rather stunted week also. Only four days, since this Friday and Saturday we will be savouring the delights of the Edinburgh International Film Festival. I’m sure I’ll have plenty to say about that later. Something I have rediscovered over these past few days has been the pure joy of filmmaking. It is something far too easily forgotten or trivialised in the competitive chaos of the student filmmaker’s slog to success. I, personally, put so much pressure on myself to learn, improve, develop, succeed, that I can almost forget why I do it. Then a day comes along like this Thursday, where I’m tearing about like a ball in a pinball machine; chairing a full crew meeting, supervising a green screen test, watching a make-up test, passing a costume fitting, or spotting Murdo in an in-depth ‘character’ discussion with an actor; while of course trying to get back to the production office to organise the countless other things that have yet to be done. This is what producing is all about. And I love it. Imagine I was doing all this and I didn’t enjoy it. If I wasn’t excited by the bustle and chaos, if I didn’t get a warm glow inside when I see a beautifully painted prop, if I didn’t just love it when everything is going wrong and everyone is turning to me for answers. Imagine I didn’t enjoy it. It would be just like any other job then, where I just can’t wait until the weekend or the next holiday.
François Truffaut, the great director of the French New Wave, said:
A rather stunted week also. Only four days, since this Friday and Saturday we will be savouring the delights of the Edinburgh International Film Festival. I’m sure I’ll have plenty to say about that later. Something I have rediscovered over these past few days has been the pure joy of filmmaking. It is something far too easily forgotten or trivialised in the competitive chaos of the student filmmaker’s slog to success. I, personally, put so much pressure on myself to learn, improve, develop, succeed, that I can almost forget why I do it. Then a day comes along like this Thursday, where I’m tearing about like a ball in a pinball machine; chairing a full crew meeting, supervising a green screen test, watching a make-up test, passing a costume fitting, or spotting Murdo in an in-depth ‘character’ discussion with an actor; while of course trying to get back to the production office to organise the countless other things that have yet to be done. This is what producing is all about. And I love it. Imagine I was doing all this and I didn’t enjoy it. If I wasn’t excited by the bustle and chaos, if I didn’t get a warm glow inside when I see a beautifully painted prop, if I didn’t just love it when everything is going wrong and everyone is turning to me for answers. Imagine I didn’t enjoy it. It would be just like any other job then, where I just can’t wait until the weekend or the next holiday.
François Truffaut, the great director of the French New Wave, said:
“I demand that a film express either the joy of making cinema or the agony of making cinema. I am not at all interested in anything in between.”I take his point. All good art comes from passion. I want to be a good filmmaker. I’m passionate about filmmaking. But am I a passionate filmmaker? It’s a challenge. Something to strive for.
Friday, 11 June 2010
Producing – Week Three
Time. A strange phenomenon. Sometimes it can seem like such a welcome thing and then the next moment like a hateful arch enemy. Sometimes it stretches to the horizon like a highway in the desert and then next moment is consumed like coal shovelled into the furnace of an ever accelerating steam train. Sometimes it is treasured like a precious stone and then next moment carelessly discarded like worthless waste. And sometimes we think we own it, that it is ours, and then next moment we feel that someone else has ownership and our time is not our own.
This week has been a bit like that. In my over-committed busy life, ‘time’ has been a distant rainbow that I have painfully pursued longing to grasp even just a small portion to claim as my own, but in vain. I am forced to bow to my ‘to do lists’, to submit to my predetermined schedule, to be enslaved by the fact that my time is not my own... But it is a lie! No human being has ownership of my time, it belongs to me, and the privelege of using every minute is mine, and so must the responsibility be. I choose how to spend my allowance of this priceless commerce and, as I explored last week, it is I who must face the consequences of those decisions. We are all given the same allowance and so I have no grounds to either boast or complain. There are twenty four hours in the day, and it is the same for everyone.
I try and cheat. I try to squeeze more and more time out of the day until tiredness and an unsymphatic clock face displaying two o’clock in the morning convince me of my foolishness. This method can work on occasion but as soon as it becomes the routine it begins to be counter-productive. Sleep is necessary. I have a responsibility to allocate a substantial chunk of my budget of time to sleeping, and if I don’t... again I must face the consequences. So often I think I have lost control, that my life is careening down a path I have no choice about, that my time is not my own. This is an illusion. Time is a gift, free-will is a gift, life is a gift. Gifts are free, often undeserved, and they have true value when the giver gives with a certain intention, from a knowledge of the receiver’s wants and needs. I, the receiver, want more time to do all the things I want to do but I need to do less things. What do I get? The same as anyone else; twenty four hours per day. So, eventually, I’ll learn.
What has all this got to do with producing? This week there seemed to be a slight lull in the production department of Broken Bubbles, a sort of simmering as we tried to control the heat without losing all impetus. In the breathing space this afforded I was able to examine how I use my time and how I view my time. As a Producer it is my job to see Broken Bubbles through to successful completion. Although not an easy task I have been given all the raw materials I need. I have life and creativity, I have the ability to make choices, and – no matter how helpless and out-of-control I may feel on occasion – I have what mankind has always had; I have time.
This week has been a bit like that. In my over-committed busy life, ‘time’ has been a distant rainbow that I have painfully pursued longing to grasp even just a small portion to claim as my own, but in vain. I am forced to bow to my ‘to do lists’, to submit to my predetermined schedule, to be enslaved by the fact that my time is not my own... But it is a lie! No human being has ownership of my time, it belongs to me, and the privelege of using every minute is mine, and so must the responsibility be. I choose how to spend my allowance of this priceless commerce and, as I explored last week, it is I who must face the consequences of those decisions. We are all given the same allowance and so I have no grounds to either boast or complain. There are twenty four hours in the day, and it is the same for everyone.
I try and cheat. I try to squeeze more and more time out of the day until tiredness and an unsymphatic clock face displaying two o’clock in the morning convince me of my foolishness. This method can work on occasion but as soon as it becomes the routine it begins to be counter-productive. Sleep is necessary. I have a responsibility to allocate a substantial chunk of my budget of time to sleeping, and if I don’t... again I must face the consequences. So often I think I have lost control, that my life is careening down a path I have no choice about, that my time is not my own. This is an illusion. Time is a gift, free-will is a gift, life is a gift. Gifts are free, often undeserved, and they have true value when the giver gives with a certain intention, from a knowledge of the receiver’s wants and needs. I, the receiver, want more time to do all the things I want to do but I need to do less things. What do I get? The same as anyone else; twenty four hours per day. So, eventually, I’ll learn.
What has all this got to do with producing? This week there seemed to be a slight lull in the production department of Broken Bubbles, a sort of simmering as we tried to control the heat without losing all impetus. In the breathing space this afforded I was able to examine how I use my time and how I view my time. As a Producer it is my job to see Broken Bubbles through to successful completion. Although not an easy task I have been given all the raw materials I need. I have life and creativity, I have the ability to make choices, and – no matter how helpless and out-of-control I may feel on occasion – I have what mankind has always had; I have time.
Friday, 4 June 2010
Producing – Week Two
Decisions, decisions, decisions… Oh, the pain and privilege of the Producer under pressure. It is our lot as human beings – in fact it defines us – to be submerged in a sea of choices every minute of our lives. Most of the time the decisions are quickly and easily made. Sometimes, they’re not. All too often it falls to the Producer to simply be the one that ‘decides’, whatever the significance or size of the choice, and then communicate that decision to all those it effects, and to be well-prepared for the consequences of that decision further down the line. So a Producer needs to be good at making decisions. I’m not sure if I’m good at making decisions or not… I am sometimes, but it depends... Thus speaks my indecisive self. I can’t even decide if I’m decisive or not!
This week we had a few big decisions to make as part of the pre-production for Broken Bubbles. Who to cast in each part? I feel we’ve made good decisions here, since Murdo has mostly got the people he had in mind when actually writing the parts! I had to make a decision about where to get a Green Screen, having searched out a pretty good deal but then discovering a possibly even better one at the last minute. Again, I think I’ve gone for the right choice. A big one this week, which caused a bit of ‘Executive concern’ (!), was whether to do a model for the exterior of the main character’s workshop/home. I’ve never done proper model-work before, there is plenty potential for it to turn out as a complete waste of time and effort, and needless to say I was somewhat reluctant to go for it. Yet, I really did feel the story required an exterior shot and, after much discussion with Murdo and John (our Director of Photography), we decided that the model would be the best way to go.
Decisions… It’s the same in life. Sometimes it feels rather like I reach a crossroads and neither path looks ideal, but I can’t stop. Or worse, both paths look equally appealing. It’s in these circumstances that I just wish a bright flashing neon sign would appear from heaven and just point me in the right direction but God, though I’m sure perfectly capable of such a ‘prompting’, prefers to employ other methods! The good thing about choices is that once they’re made that’s it. They’re done, finished, and even if the consequences rise up to haunt you, at least the agony of the initial choice is gone for good.
Also this week we had some training on the RED workflow for post-production and specifically AVID, the tasks of the DIT (or in our case the Data Loader) and how media is managed in this new digital age. It’s so exciting, and a tad frustrating, that these processes are still changing even as we learn them but it is exhilarating to think that we are on the front-line as the whole filmmaking industry undergoes a dramatic wave of change. Thankfully I’d been on set for one of the Grad films as a DIT Trainee so I have a bit more of a working knowledge of the processes, but there is still so much to learn…
I’ve decided something! That I don’t have to be the most decisive person in the world. I’m still learning, and hopefully improving… and I’m not going to stop.
This week we had a few big decisions to make as part of the pre-production for Broken Bubbles. Who to cast in each part? I feel we’ve made good decisions here, since Murdo has mostly got the people he had in mind when actually writing the parts! I had to make a decision about where to get a Green Screen, having searched out a pretty good deal but then discovering a possibly even better one at the last minute. Again, I think I’ve gone for the right choice. A big one this week, which caused a bit of ‘Executive concern’ (!), was whether to do a model for the exterior of the main character’s workshop/home. I’ve never done proper model-work before, there is plenty potential for it to turn out as a complete waste of time and effort, and needless to say I was somewhat reluctant to go for it. Yet, I really did feel the story required an exterior shot and, after much discussion with Murdo and John (our Director of Photography), we decided that the model would be the best way to go.
Decisions… It’s the same in life. Sometimes it feels rather like I reach a crossroads and neither path looks ideal, but I can’t stop. Or worse, both paths look equally appealing. It’s in these circumstances that I just wish a bright flashing neon sign would appear from heaven and just point me in the right direction but God, though I’m sure perfectly capable of such a ‘prompting’, prefers to employ other methods! The good thing about choices is that once they’re made that’s it. They’re done, finished, and even if the consequences rise up to haunt you, at least the agony of the initial choice is gone for good.
Also this week we had some training on the RED workflow for post-production and specifically AVID, the tasks of the DIT (or in our case the Data Loader) and how media is managed in this new digital age. It’s so exciting, and a tad frustrating, that these processes are still changing even as we learn them but it is exhilarating to think that we are on the front-line as the whole filmmaking industry undergoes a dramatic wave of change. Thankfully I’d been on set for one of the Grad films as a DIT Trainee so I have a bit more of a working knowledge of the processes, but there is still so much to learn…
I’ve decided something! That I don’t have to be the most decisive person in the world. I’m still learning, and hopefully improving… and I’m not going to stop.
Friday, 28 May 2010
Producing – Week One
So, after the long and painful neglect of my beloved Performance Journal, I return once again with profound reflections so decoratively communicated I expect there won’t be a single soul, myself included, who has the slightest clue what on earth I’m on about! Hopefully not. I’ll try to keep it frank.
So I’m Producer on one of our three end-of-year films, namely Broken Bubbles written and directed by Murdo Macleod. Producing, like this Journal, is something I’ve been mentally avoiding, not because I don’t want to do it but rather because I have crowded my mind, my time, my life, with so many other things it has been impossible to do any of them justice, and extremely hard to enjoy any of them also. Gaelic, driving, singing, projects, writing, moving… to name a few, and then I remember that somewhere under that lot there’s a fantastic film and television course I’m supposed to be studying on. Yes, I have severely over-committed myself this term. I’ve been foolish, I’ve made a mistake, I’ll learn from it… I hope. The fact remains: I love being busy, but too much of anything is harmful.
Pre-production on Broken Bubbles is going well. Thankfully we have quite a bit longer to prepare than the other two which takes the pressure off somewhat. I’m grafting away quite cheerfully and learning a lot as I go. It seems to me that producing, more than directing or any of the more ‘creative’ roles, is learnt on the job. It’s about just going for it, encountering problems, solving them, learning from them, and pushing on. The storyteller within me finds this very appealing as this is of course the foundation of any character-led story. For me the two most important roles of the Producer are to keep a constant flow of clear communication to everyone involved in the production and to be always looking ahead and being well prepared; or as Jerry Bruckheimer, one of the world’s most successful film producers, said: “Expect the worst, hope for the best!”
So I’m Producer on one of our three end-of-year films, namely Broken Bubbles written and directed by Murdo Macleod. Producing, like this Journal, is something I’ve been mentally avoiding, not because I don’t want to do it but rather because I have crowded my mind, my time, my life, with so many other things it has been impossible to do any of them justice, and extremely hard to enjoy any of them also. Gaelic, driving, singing, projects, writing, moving… to name a few, and then I remember that somewhere under that lot there’s a fantastic film and television course I’m supposed to be studying on. Yes, I have severely over-committed myself this term. I’ve been foolish, I’ve made a mistake, I’ll learn from it… I hope. The fact remains: I love being busy, but too much of anything is harmful.
Pre-production on Broken Bubbles is going well. Thankfully we have quite a bit longer to prepare than the other two which takes the pressure off somewhat. I’m grafting away quite cheerfully and learning a lot as I go. It seems to me that producing, more than directing or any of the more ‘creative’ roles, is learnt on the job. It’s about just going for it, encountering problems, solving them, learning from them, and pushing on. The storyteller within me finds this very appealing as this is of course the foundation of any character-led story. For me the two most important roles of the Producer are to keep a constant flow of clear communication to everyone involved in the production and to be always looking ahead and being well prepared; or as Jerry Bruckheimer, one of the world’s most successful film producers, said: “Expect the worst, hope for the best!”
Thursday, 18 February 2010
Cutting a Comedic Kill
Gosford Park is a comedy murder mystery directed by Robert Altman which entertainingly contrasts the lives of the rich and bored ‘upstairs’ guests with the interesting ‘downstairs’ servants during a shooting party at an English country manor in 1932. The film was edited by Tim Squyres and was nominated for ‘AFI Editor of the Year’ and for ‘Best Edited Feature Film – Comedy or Musical’ in 2002.1 In the very centre of this multiple storylined period drama is the crucial murder scene. This sequence has been edited in both a functional and interesting way:
As Sidney Lumet, a highly acclaimed and respected film director, says:
“While it’s absurd to believe that pictures are “made” in the cutting room, they sure as hell can be ruined there.”2
In my opinion this scene was definitely not ruined in the cutting room and by deconstructing it I will attempt to explore just how effectively and skilfully edited it actually is.
Films are unavoidably subjective because they are primarily concerned with emotion. The role of the filmmaker is to draw in the audience so that they feel the film, as opposed to just watch it. Walter Murch, a master of the craft of editing, puts it like this:
“How do you want the audience to feel? If they are feeling what you want them to feel all the way through the film, you’ve done about as much as you can ever do… If you have to give up something, don’t ever give up emotion before story.”3
As I say, films are subjective but I think when watching this sequence we feel a strange and spicy mixture of light humour and sinister seriousness. As the song begins we have that first moment of hilarity:
which is instantly shot down to an awkward fascination as we see the mysterious feet prowling in the darkness.
As the sequence progresses we realise the significance of what we are seeing and when we get exactly halfway through we see the knife:
and by then the whole mood and meaning has flipped and the tension swaps from suspense, to anticipation of the stab.
Yet even as we witness the actual murder we can’t help but view it with an odd amusement as if it’s really not that serious.
Already we can see how cleverly this sequence has been constructed in that it is a perfect snapshot of the genre of the whole piece. Gosford Park is a comedy murder mystery, a rather oxymoronic genre, and the emotion we feel during this sequence exactly matches that idea. We feel like laughing, yet our emotions are conflicted as we are witnessing something sinister. A magnificently messy mix!
This blend of emotions is purposefully achieved by careful cutting. Walter Murch says:
“Frequently, it takes more work and discernment to decide where not to cut…”4
and it is interesting to note that the tension build is not due to increasing frantic or irregular cutting, as the pace remains sedate, or even a crescendo in the sound or music, as this also stays quiet and steady. As proved by Kuleshov two different images cut together creates meaning (A + B = C). This tension is in fact achieved through the intercutting of two contrasting scenarios.
The bulk of our emotion is invested in the progress of the mysterious feet and this is where the feeling of sinister suspense comes from. Here is an example of how it could have been cut:
Clearly this produces a completely different emotion and instantly makes it a completely different film. So by splicing in the silly song, the bored guests and the listening servants a totally new meaning is created and we get our wonderful mix of emotions.
Also worth noting are the actual shots we cut away to in the first half of the sequence. As can be seen from the above clip the shots in the murderer’s narrative show quite a linear journey. The song shots subtly help this narrative along by becoming more and more distant from the source of the music as we become more and more interested in the murderer’s progress.
I mentioned earlier that at the halfway point, when we see the knife, we know what is about to happen. The Master, Murch, says the following about the job of an editor:
“Your job is partly to anticipate, partly to control the thought processes of the audience. To give them what they want and/or what they need just before they have to “ask” for it – to be surprising yet self-evident at the same time. If you are too far behind or ahead of them, you create problems, but if you are right with them, leading them ever so slightly, the flow of events feels natural and exciting at the same time.”5
The mid-point, the reveal of the knife, could potentially be a moment when the audience gets a little ahead of the editor. There is that great shot of the approaching assassin, knife held ready:
suddenly followed by the funniest and most contrasting shot we have seen yet:
This juxtaposition causes a ‘jump’ in emotion which throws us off balance ever so slightly but enough to remind us what type of film we are watching and so that as we finally see the murder the mood is lightened and we feel as if it’s really not that serious.
Of course, what we see is only half of a filmmakers concern; what we hear is equally important. The soundtrack for this sequence is particularly interesting. Production Designer Stephen Altman (Robert Altman’s son) comments:
“It’s not really murder music… Counterprogramming.”6
To counteract the serious and sinister moment of the murder the music needs to be humorous and harmless to lift the moment, and consequently the film, into the comedy genre. Also this song has the added bonus of providing a tempo for the scene. For Sidney Lumet:
“…there are two main elements to editing: juxtapositioning images and creating tempo.”7
This song is a clever choice as it helps with both. The crucial moments are when the tempo of the music changes.
“…it’s the change in tempo that we feel, not the tempo itself.”8
Here’s one major change, it slows to a pause… then regains normal tempo:
And here’s another, a change to a sudden faster tempo:
It is certainly not a coincidence that two ‘tempo-change’ moments are the two moments we have been most interested in; the mid-point when we see the knife and the end when we see the stab. The first change causes us to pause and therefore take more careful note of the information we are seeing, and the faster tempo cued by the STAB heightens the excitement and messes the mood of this humorously horrific climax.
Altman would not deny that this scene is a vaguely “Alfred Hitchcock-esque” moment9 and it is interesting to compare Altman’s murder sequence with the famous murder scene from Hitchcock’s Psycho10:
There are obvious similarities: we never see the murderer’s face, a knife is used, the audience is aware of the murderer's approach whilst the victim is unsuspecting; and also major differences: the music, the rhythm, the stabbing; but this highlights the importance of knowing the original before attempting the spoof. Or in Altman’s words, when being questioned about certain technicalities:
“Oh yes, all of those rules we broke. That’s what rules are there for.”11
The depth and detail of the editing in this one short sequence is just extraordinary and this exploration has greatly increased my appreciation of the scene, the film and the filmmakers. I agree with Robert Altman:
“… when you see it [Gosford Park] the second time, which is the most effective way to see it… and you know all the answers, you know all the ‘whodunits’… the film is really better, because you’re able to deal in the detail of it and see nuances that otherwise escape you.”12
This opportunity to explore the “nuances” of the editing of this sequence has been extremely beneficial and has made me more aware of the centrality of emotion, the significance of style and the power of great editing.
BIBLIOGRAPHY
Books
Murch, W., 2001. In the Blink of an Eye. 2nd ed. Los Angeles: Silman-James Press.
Lumet, S., 1996. Making Movies. New York: Vintage Books.
DVDs
Gosford Park. 2001. Dir. Robert Altman. [DVD]. UK: Entertainment in Video
Psycho. 1960. Dir. Alfred Hitchcock. [DVD]. UK: Universal Pictures Ltd.
Websites
Wikipedia: http://en.wikipedia.org/ [Accessed 15th February 2010]
IMDb: http://www.imdb.com/ [Accessed 30th January 2010]
* * *
1The Internet Movie Database. 2010. Tim Squyres. [online]. Available from: http://www.imdb.com/name/nm0820163/ [Accessed 30th January 2010]
2Lumet, S., 1996. Making Movies. New York: Vintage Books.
3Murch, W., 2001. In the Blink of an Eye. 2nd ed. Los Angeles: Silman-James Press.
4Murch, W., 2001. In the Blink of an Eye. 2nd ed. Los Angeles: Silman-James Press.
5Murch, W., 2001. In the Blink of an Eye. 2nd ed. Los Angeles: Silman-James Press.
6Gosford Park. 2001. Dir. Robert Altman. [DVD Commentary]. UK: Entertainment in Video
7Lumet, S., 1996. Making Movies. New York: Vintage Books.
8Lumet, S., 1996. Making Movies. New York: Vintage Books.
9Gosford Park. 2001. Dir. Robert Altman. [DVD Commentary]. UK: Entertainment in Video
10Psycho. 1960. Dir. Alfred Hitchcock. [DVD]. UK: Universal Pictures Ltd.
11Gosford Park. 2001. Dir. Robert Altman. [DVD Commentary]. UK: Entertainment in Video
12Gosford Park. 2001. Dir. Robert Altman. [DVD Commentary]. UK: Entertainment in Video
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