FADE IN: Young college student waiting in a room with a computer on a desk. In walks THE BIG SCARY DIRECTOR, a 40-something early chrome-dome with an air of impatience about him. He slaps a flash drive on the table (insert CLOSE-UP here). "Get to it" - and then he's gone. CUT TO: your face. You're scared out of your wits.
The flash drive contains a bunch of footage from a bunch of different cameras. There's A-roll and B-roll, close-ups and long shots, over-the-shoulders, two-shots, crane shots, and a scattered mess of the director pretending to be artsy for two minutes. Can you make sense of all this?
George Lucas loves to edit. (So does his wife, who edited the first Star Wars film even though she thought it would be crap. $20 billion dollars later, I wonder how she feels?) He's frequently quoted as saying that the editing room is where the film is truly made. He's not entirely wrong. After all, during production, one never shoots in sequence. You've just gotta pick a day and a set and start running with what you've got. It's the editor's job to bring order from chaos.
As with most things in film, one good way to learn how to edit well is to watch how other people do it. I'd like to draw attention to some excellent examples of artistic film editing from my point of view.
FIGHT CLUB
Fight Club is a film of extraordinary grace. (Bonus: name that altered movie line!) It's a monumental task to take Chuck Palahniuk, a writer who spares no expense in getting to the point, and making a feature-length story out of his novels. Fortunately, a number of brilliant minds worked on the film, and the result is startling, in part because the film can do foreshadowing in a way the book could not. There are a few instances in the film where the screen seems to "jump" for a second, replacing the image you're seeing with another one before going back to the original image. The technique, called "splicing", is explained in the film (because it was explained in the book as well, as an integral part of characterizing Tyler Durden) and is used to foreshadow the twist that thrusts the film into its final act - that our narrator (the always delightful Edward Norton) is, in fact, Tyler Durden. But just for a brief moment in about two or three scenes prior to the twist, we catch barely a glimpse of Brad Pitt, the outward expression of the narrator's frustrations with the world.
(500) DAYS OF SUMMER
I love this film. Maybe a little too much, but by golly do I love it. By using the title card to introduce what day in the established 500 days it is, the editor can cut the film in any way s/he wants and it would still make sense. The key is to use this power to create thematic resonance with the audience - by jumping back and forth in an established timeline, you can bring out and juxtapose certain themes that you might never have noticed otherwise. A good example is the Ikea sequences. It starts at a later point in the timeline, showing how Summer has become very uninterested in the relationship, and then jumps back to the first Ikea shopping experience, when life was happier and fun. (Fun question: why start with the bad and then jump to the good? Why not cut it so the good is first and the bad is second?)
Another scene from this film that's certainly become famous since the film's release is the expectations vs. reality sequence. It's an interpretation of the idea for the film TIMECODE (mentioned in our book - by the way, great film, give it a go sometime) where Tom's expectations of the night are juxtaposed with the reality, i.e. what really happened that night. Two sequences were filmed, then placed together in the screen; but as the reality really starts to hit home, the REALITY window edges out the EXPECTATIONS window, eventually swallowing the whole frame as we come to realize that Summer is engaged to be married. In my opinion, it's the best sequence in the entire film.
SLUMDOG MILLIONAIRE; LOST (TV SERIES)
The film Slumdog Millionaire and the TV show LOST use a similar technique in editing, so I'll talk about them both.
First, the film. Slumdog Millionaire won the Academy Award for Best Picture Editing in 2009 - that should clue you in that this is a film you should observe for how to edit something together. In this film, of course, the main story is our young hero (because let's be honest, this is a modern fairy tale, and a damned good one at that) playing India's syndicated version of Who Wants To Be A Millionaire? And of course, each question is, in some way, related to his life, which takes up the bulk of the remaining film's story. As he answers the question (usually before he answers, sometimes after) we cut back to the story of his life, which is of course full of so much misery and, simultaneously, good fortune, that we come to wonder how he got to the "hot seat" in the first place. A simple flashback structure, complicated only by the in medias res starting point of the film - sometime before the final question is asked and answered.
You know what else used to use a flashback structure? LOST. More than half our class watches the show, so I feel I shouldn't have to explain much here. We're on the Island, watching a resonant scene with our central character of the episode, and then the WHOOSH sound comes in and we cut to the flashback story. Here, carefully constructed picture editing is combined with sound editing (the WHOOSH sound) to help guide us in and out of the show's two intertwined stories. As the show progresses to using flashforwards and, eventually, two timelines (yeah, time-travel... good luck with that), the WHOOSH sound and picture cut continue to help guide the viewer through the two intertwined stories, wherever they may be.
Editing is a challenge - especially on a TV show, where the editor is pretty much working full-time. It's also one of the most powerful positions in film. The story is literally in your hands; you have to imbue the images with meaning, with sense, with a kind of purpose. I love the hell out of editing. I also love Star Wars. I do believe those two things are related.
TITLE CARD: "Many weeks later..." CUT TO: Editing room. The director bursts in. DIRECTOR: You got the first cut? CUT TO: Close-up, flash drive in computer. You take the flash drive out. CUT TO: Two-shot. You toss the flash drive to the director. CUT TO: Close-up, you. YOU: The first cut is always the deepest. CUT TO: Two-shot. A few beats pass. CUT TO: Close-up, director. DIRECTOR: I'm so glad you're not the writer. FIN.
Monday, January 25, 2010
Sunday, January 17, 2010
Reflections: Cinematography & The Fourth Wall
Cinematography: Visual Storytelling
I wanted to spend the first part of this blog expanding on the concepts in the reading for this week by bringing in some other examples to discuss.
CAMERA ANGLES - THE ONLY LIVING BOY IN NEW YORK
Click here to watch the video.
I'm a fan of this short film (and not just because Anthony Carboni is in it - he hosts one of my favorite video podcasts, Bytejacker). It uses a variety of camera angles and shots to portray a rather powerful meeting of two people in the middle of a park. At 0:44, we are zooming in to Ella next to the tree, but Anthony approaches up the hill from the left. Throughout the conversation, notice how the camera is unsteady, "swinging" back and forth from one OTS (over-the-shoulder) to another; notice also the extreme close-ups on each person's face. Finally, my favorite bit, from 2:35 to 2:44 - Ella has exited the frame, but the camera doesn't follow her; instead, it lingers on Anthony.
Why do you think some of these decisions were made? How does it affect the way you interpret the otherwise sparse script and story? What is this story about?
DIGITAL FILM - AIMEE MANN "FREEWAY"
Click here to watch the video.
Ever seen the film Magnolia? Then you know Aimee Mann - her music dominates and influences the film and its soundtrack. I really love this music video of hers, as well. The song is about a speed addict, with the chorus representing the deterministic aspect of being, well, any kind of addict ("you've got a lotta money but you can't afford the freeway"). The video is shot digitally and makes some interesting choices both in cinematography and editing. The film, I believe, is meant to replicate the effects of taking speed, tying into the theme of the song very well. One way the video achieves this effect is by intentionally un-syncing the audio track from the video track.
What else does the film do to unhinge your perception of what's happening on-screen? What does this video do that traditional stock film could never reasonably achieve?
LIGHTING - BEYONCE "SINGLE LADIES"
Click here to watch the video.
With all due respect to Miss Taylor Swift (whose video is actually pretty good, all things considered), I find this music video to be superior to hers. Why? One word: lighting. This video features stark contrasts of black and white, both in the constantly-changing lighting of the blank set and in the costumes of Beyonce and her backups - notice that the outfits are black while the lighting setup accentuates their skin tones to an almost ridiculous degree of white. The changing light scheme forces us to re-evaluate the set surrounding the girls - is it just blank space? Is it green/blue screen? And then there's the brilliance of 2:00 and 2:21. At 2:00, the lights swing from near-darkness to blinding white; at 2:21, the girls all "step up" into what appears to be nothing, but which we can logically assume to be steps that we simply cannot see because they are painted white to blend in with the lighting.
What does this lighting scheme contribute to the theme of the song? How does the lighting scheme accentuate the choreography of the dancers? Also, what does the camera choreography do to help unhinge our perceptions of the video?
The Fourth Wall
Our exercise in class last week, in which we grabbed our cell phones and shot some guerilla footage, made me think of the fourth wall. What's that, you say? Well, the fourth wall is a concept that springs from television, specifically sitcoms. Most traditional sitcom sets only have three walls - left, right, and back. The fourth wall is the invisible barrier separating the events of the show from the viewer. In other words, the camera itself becomes a part of the set, separating the viewer from the fictional world being presented.
The term "fourth wall" was coined because, well, sitcoms kept breaking it! "Breaking the fourth wall" is a common sitcom narrative device in which an actor will turn and speak to the camera, acknowledging the presence of an audience and breaking the fantasy element that the fourth wall creates. Most of the time, this is done to comedic effect; however, some shows have been known to incorporate the effect into the show itself. Famous examples of this include Lizzie McGuire's cartoon self in the eponymous Disney show, as well as the classic Nickelodeon show Clarissa Explains It All, where Clarissa speaks openly to the audience about the goings-on of the show.
There are other, subtle ways to break the fourth wall as well. A "spike" is when an actor looks directly into the camera, usually without acknowledging an audience. This is usually done for dramatic effect. Good recent examples include the ending of Scrubs season two episode "My T.C.W." (2:00-2:07) and the last moment of the film (500) Days of Summer, when Tom acknowledges to the audience the final comedic revelation of the story.
This so-called "fourth wall" is an acknowledgment of the physical and psychological barrier between the viewer of a piece of film and the film world itself. But with the re-emergence of 3D and film techniques on display in James Cameron's Avatar, is the fourth wall in danger of being torn down? Will our physical and psychological selves begin to merge with the film worlds we love to watch? (Or perhaps the question to be asking, with alternate-reality worlds for shows such as LOST and Heroes: is this merger happening already?)
I wanted to spend the first part of this blog expanding on the concepts in the reading for this week by bringing in some other examples to discuss.
CAMERA ANGLES - THE ONLY LIVING BOY IN NEW YORK
Click here to watch the video.
I'm a fan of this short film (and not just because Anthony Carboni is in it - he hosts one of my favorite video podcasts, Bytejacker). It uses a variety of camera angles and shots to portray a rather powerful meeting of two people in the middle of a park. At 0:44, we are zooming in to Ella next to the tree, but Anthony approaches up the hill from the left. Throughout the conversation, notice how the camera is unsteady, "swinging" back and forth from one OTS (over-the-shoulder) to another; notice also the extreme close-ups on each person's face. Finally, my favorite bit, from 2:35 to 2:44 - Ella has exited the frame, but the camera doesn't follow her; instead, it lingers on Anthony.
Why do you think some of these decisions were made? How does it affect the way you interpret the otherwise sparse script and story? What is this story about?
DIGITAL FILM - AIMEE MANN "FREEWAY"
Click here to watch the video.
Ever seen the film Magnolia? Then you know Aimee Mann - her music dominates and influences the film and its soundtrack. I really love this music video of hers, as well. The song is about a speed addict, with the chorus representing the deterministic aspect of being, well, any kind of addict ("you've got a lotta money but you can't afford the freeway"). The video is shot digitally and makes some interesting choices both in cinematography and editing. The film, I believe, is meant to replicate the effects of taking speed, tying into the theme of the song very well. One way the video achieves this effect is by intentionally un-syncing the audio track from the video track.
What else does the film do to unhinge your perception of what's happening on-screen? What does this video do that traditional stock film could never reasonably achieve?
LIGHTING - BEYONCE "SINGLE LADIES"
Click here to watch the video.
With all due respect to Miss Taylor Swift (whose video is actually pretty good, all things considered), I find this music video to be superior to hers. Why? One word: lighting. This video features stark contrasts of black and white, both in the constantly-changing lighting of the blank set and in the costumes of Beyonce and her backups - notice that the outfits are black while the lighting setup accentuates their skin tones to an almost ridiculous degree of white. The changing light scheme forces us to re-evaluate the set surrounding the girls - is it just blank space? Is it green/blue screen? And then there's the brilliance of 2:00 and 2:21. At 2:00, the lights swing from near-darkness to blinding white; at 2:21, the girls all "step up" into what appears to be nothing, but which we can logically assume to be steps that we simply cannot see because they are painted white to blend in with the lighting.
What does this lighting scheme contribute to the theme of the song? How does the lighting scheme accentuate the choreography of the dancers? Also, what does the camera choreography do to help unhinge our perceptions of the video?
The Fourth Wall
Our exercise in class last week, in which we grabbed our cell phones and shot some guerilla footage, made me think of the fourth wall. What's that, you say? Well, the fourth wall is a concept that springs from television, specifically sitcoms. Most traditional sitcom sets only have three walls - left, right, and back. The fourth wall is the invisible barrier separating the events of the show from the viewer. In other words, the camera itself becomes a part of the set, separating the viewer from the fictional world being presented.
The term "fourth wall" was coined because, well, sitcoms kept breaking it! "Breaking the fourth wall" is a common sitcom narrative device in which an actor will turn and speak to the camera, acknowledging the presence of an audience and breaking the fantasy element that the fourth wall creates. Most of the time, this is done to comedic effect; however, some shows have been known to incorporate the effect into the show itself. Famous examples of this include Lizzie McGuire's cartoon self in the eponymous Disney show, as well as the classic Nickelodeon show Clarissa Explains It All, where Clarissa speaks openly to the audience about the goings-on of the show.
There are other, subtle ways to break the fourth wall as well. A "spike" is when an actor looks directly into the camera, usually without acknowledging an audience. This is usually done for dramatic effect. Good recent examples include the ending of Scrubs season two episode "My T.C.W." (2:00-2:07) and the last moment of the film (500) Days of Summer, when Tom acknowledges to the audience the final comedic revelation of the story.
This so-called "fourth wall" is an acknowledgment of the physical and psychological barrier between the viewer of a piece of film and the film world itself. But with the re-emergence of 3D and film techniques on display in James Cameron's Avatar, is the fourth wall in danger of being torn down? Will our physical and psychological selves begin to merge with the film worlds we love to watch? (Or perhaps the question to be asking, with alternate-reality worlds for shows such as LOST and Heroes: is this merger happening already?)
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