I've lost all my money on these films. They are not commercial. But I'm glad to lose it this way. To have for a souvenir of my life pictures like Umberto D. and The Bicycle Thief.
Vittorio De Sica
Thursday, January 31, 2008
Wednesday, January 30, 2008
Woodshedding Hijinx
We had some laughs tonight. One actor couldn't make it at the last minute, so we did what we could without her. No big deal. My goal is simply to have a camera between me and actors every week. Mission accomplished.
I took advantage of the short evening to get off me duff and offload and review the footage in a timely manner. I'm going to try to make it a habit. I also confirmed my suspicions regarding the audio settings. Nice, rich audio is possible without a lot of heartache or money out of pocket. I thought as much. The point of a sound man is that I don't have to think about it, but I can't afford not to think about things right now.
Blah, blah, blah ...
Having a good time,
Signore Direttore
How did he know that?
These "film of tomorrow" quotes are really hitting me these days. I've had these tucked away for the past year and a half. I liked the way they sounded instantly, but they didn't make sense until now. Truffaut (much like Fellini) was so open-hearted and uncynical - certainly a font of his wisdom. If this pursuit is not an act of love; what is it? It's along the lines of the spiritual life not being a theory but a life we must lead. There's no intellectualizing it. We can't think ourselves into right action. We act our way into right thinking. We must walk the walk. And if we're going to walk nolens volens, we might as well keep our hearts open as best we can along the way.
Grazie,
Signore Direttore
Grazie,
Signore Direttore
The Master Says 283
The film of tomorrow will not be directed by civil servants of the camera, but by artists for whom shooting a film constitutes a wonderful and thrilling adventure.
Francois Truffaut
Francois Truffaut
Now Hear This (fingers crossed)
I'm gaining some momentum in terms of getting my eyes on the things I've shot. Then once I do it I'm like, have you seriously not watched the footage from something you shot a month, year, decade ago? I'm like one of those women that has a closet full of clothes they've never worn. I believe it's called compulsive. There's always something beneath an affliction like compulsion and I think in this case it's called hubris. I'm either overly confident about what I have or I'm afraid that it won't be representative of how I would like others to see me. It's the skinny jeans correlative. It's time to confront this insidious dishonesty.
I'm going to really get on the couch now. What if this is yet another form of self-abnegation? Self-sabotage? Last night I went about logging all the footage of Tara and David we shot over the holidays when both were in town. The audio levels on much of it was muddy. Almost all usable, but not without some work in post. Work that I didn't know how to do very well before I forgot how to do it entirely, but I'll get to that later in the post. There are two little scenes with David, one of which I recall as being a real gem when shooting it, that are inaudible. It makes me ill. Here I was feeling really good about Made Crooked and the bottom dropped out on me again. Albeit temporarily. There was no hair-pulling or name calling. I'm in it to the end with that project. So why didn't I sit down and make sure the footage was good before they left town? Pride, again. Disorganization. Inexperience! Which falls under pride. I didn't take the precaution because I hadn't been sufficiently burned. I can take my hand off the stove now.
It does raise many questions however. Number one; why are all the levels so low? I think the person that's been operating the camera has mistaken the halfway mark for the peak mark on the audio meter. Then when I can't hear it on set, he jacks up the headphone volume. My inspection of the camera has all but confirmed this probability. I've sent my concerns along to the appropriate party acknowledging that he isn't a sound man and isn't ultimately responsible for the audio, but that we need to address this error. Which brings us to question 1A; should I be using a sound tech more often? Nowhere have I experienced the adage you get what you pay for more than in regard to sound. With the possible exception of But A Dream where we paid about 15% of our total budget for sound. The levels are there, but Heath and Joey sound like they were on different planets instead of ten feet away from one another on Day 2. He also provided no handles, so syncing was a time-consuming issue during the transfer. I digress. I want to run and gun. I don't want to spend the money, especially now when I don't have any. I don't want to pay someone who expands our crew, slows us down and doesn't always deliver. On the flipside, if I have to reshoot Tara or David I have to wait for them to come back to town or go the prohibitive expense of doing an ISDN ADR patch with actors that are inexperienced at looping.
I've worked with a sound guy that has done a good job, is pleasant to be around and gives me a smoking rate. I might just need to make that a given on anything I hope to present to the world in a format bigger than Quicktime. I also need to learn/relearn about sound, both production and post-. Before I add the harmonica to my one-man band, I'm going to remind myself that my primary goal right now is to improve as a director. I want to see performance better with my eyes and help the audience to see it better by improving my shot selection. I'm going to say that getting good sound is a job for the producer. I wear that hat as well, but I'm not giving it my focus at present. I need to pound this home. The idea that I can do it all has to be smashed.
Then again, not denying the veracity of any of the aforementioned, I have to acknowledge that if I'm working in a fingers crossed manner, I have to expect some shortfalls. This element has to be embraced to a certain extent if I'm going to persist in no-budget filmmaking. If I ask your dad and my dentist for seventy-five grand or if the Germans back a million dollar project of mine, then expectations should rise considerably. But two or three guys in a room with an amateur actor or two is a crap shoot. Sometimes you roll fours and tens, sometimes you crap out. I'm going to do the best I can and when I come up short, I'm going to try to let myself off the hook. Forget all the psycho-therapy mumble jumble and accept the reality of my situation as a DIY filmmaker. In the immortal words of Billy, Johnny and Din: Lighten up and have a good time!
Ain't No Thing,
Signore Direttore
I'm going to really get on the couch now. What if this is yet another form of self-abnegation? Self-sabotage? Last night I went about logging all the footage of Tara and David we shot over the holidays when both were in town. The audio levels on much of it was muddy. Almost all usable, but not without some work in post. Work that I didn't know how to do very well before I forgot how to do it entirely, but I'll get to that later in the post. There are two little scenes with David, one of which I recall as being a real gem when shooting it, that are inaudible. It makes me ill. Here I was feeling really good about Made Crooked and the bottom dropped out on me again. Albeit temporarily. There was no hair-pulling or name calling. I'm in it to the end with that project. So why didn't I sit down and make sure the footage was good before they left town? Pride, again. Disorganization. Inexperience! Which falls under pride. I didn't take the precaution because I hadn't been sufficiently burned. I can take my hand off the stove now.
It does raise many questions however. Number one; why are all the levels so low? I think the person that's been operating the camera has mistaken the halfway mark for the peak mark on the audio meter. Then when I can't hear it on set, he jacks up the headphone volume. My inspection of the camera has all but confirmed this probability. I've sent my concerns along to the appropriate party acknowledging that he isn't a sound man and isn't ultimately responsible for the audio, but that we need to address this error. Which brings us to question 1A; should I be using a sound tech more often? Nowhere have I experienced the adage you get what you pay for more than in regard to sound. With the possible exception of But A Dream where we paid about 15% of our total budget for sound. The levels are there, but Heath and Joey sound like they were on different planets instead of ten feet away from one another on Day 2. He also provided no handles, so syncing was a time-consuming issue during the transfer. I digress. I want to run and gun. I don't want to spend the money, especially now when I don't have any. I don't want to pay someone who expands our crew, slows us down and doesn't always deliver. On the flipside, if I have to reshoot Tara or David I have to wait for them to come back to town or go the prohibitive expense of doing an ISDN ADR patch with actors that are inexperienced at looping.
I've worked with a sound guy that has done a good job, is pleasant to be around and gives me a smoking rate. I might just need to make that a given on anything I hope to present to the world in a format bigger than Quicktime. I also need to learn/relearn about sound, both production and post-. Before I add the harmonica to my one-man band, I'm going to remind myself that my primary goal right now is to improve as a director. I want to see performance better with my eyes and help the audience to see it better by improving my shot selection. I'm going to say that getting good sound is a job for the producer. I wear that hat as well, but I'm not giving it my focus at present. I need to pound this home. The idea that I can do it all has to be smashed.
Then again, not denying the veracity of any of the aforementioned, I have to acknowledge that if I'm working in a fingers crossed manner, I have to expect some shortfalls. This element has to be embraced to a certain extent if I'm going to persist in no-budget filmmaking. If I ask your dad and my dentist for seventy-five grand or if the Germans back a million dollar project of mine, then expectations should rise considerably. But two or three guys in a room with an amateur actor or two is a crap shoot. Sometimes you roll fours and tens, sometimes you crap out. I'm going to do the best I can and when I come up short, I'm going to try to let myself off the hook. Forget all the psycho-therapy mumble jumble and accept the reality of my situation as a DIY filmmaker. In the immortal words of Billy, Johnny and Din: Lighten up and have a good time!
Ain't No Thing,
Signore Direttore
Tuesday, January 29, 2008
Better Directing
I took note of my last post concerning preparation and trust for this week. I've prepared in a more conventional manner. Once I knew which actors I was working with I came up with a scene. I then summarized it in an email, realizing as i was about to send it that I could and should write it in script form. I suggested that the actors look for that in the coming days. As I tend to do, I wrote it almost immediately. Then while watching my son and his friends play video games during his sleepover, I started drawing storyboards. Then I broke the script into beats. And now I'm making some crib notes.
There's something very reassuring about doing these things. And they don't take much effort because I've done it so many times. Still it was good to go through the process. I know where to put the camera. I know what I want to see. I even broke the habit of seeing it in bits. I made myself storyboard coverage. I realized a critical flaw in my perception of shooting masters. I erroneously believed that the entire scene had to be shot in a master. I realized that you can just shoot masters of the major beats and then do a little overlapping. It made so much sense finally.
There is a catch. I need to make sure that my preparation is a blueprint, not the finished product. I need to let the actors build upon the foundation and live in the house we build together. I need to do just what I tell actor-students: do the prep and then forget it.
I'll let you know how it goes.
¡viva!
Signroe Direttore
There's something very reassuring about doing these things. And they don't take much effort because I've done it so many times. Still it was good to go through the process. I know where to put the camera. I know what I want to see. I even broke the habit of seeing it in bits. I made myself storyboard coverage. I realized a critical flaw in my perception of shooting masters. I erroneously believed that the entire scene had to be shot in a master. I realized that you can just shoot masters of the major beats and then do a little overlapping. It made so much sense finally.
There is a catch. I need to make sure that my preparation is a blueprint, not the finished product. I need to let the actors build upon the foundation and live in the house we build together. I need to do just what I tell actor-students: do the prep and then forget it.
I'll let you know how it goes.
¡viva!
Signroe Direttore
The "Most Desire" Award
In the summer between the eighth grade and high school I went to some basketball camps. At one I was awarded "Most Desire". I was so disappointed. I wanted to be "Most Valuable Player" or "Best Jump Shooter". It felt like a real booby prize, as if they couldn't come up with anything good to say about any of my skills. I don't remember how I altered it or what I changed it to, but I did change it, rendering my prize counterfeit. An early instance of being blind to and subverting my estimable qualities.
It wasn't until many years later that I realized how powerful that award was. That even if I wasn't as talented a ball player as some of the other kids, and I wasn't, my zeal for the game was wholly manifest.
As a director, I rarely have the chance to work with actors that are sublimely talented. The people I work with that demonstrate a sense of integrity about the work are much more attractive than those who have talent but lack passion. Maybe my work suffers for it, I don't know as yet, but I'm sticking with the passionate until persuaded otherwise.
Ciao,
Signore Direttore
It wasn't until many years later that I realized how powerful that award was. That even if I wasn't as talented a ball player as some of the other kids, and I wasn't, my zeal for the game was wholly manifest.
As a director, I rarely have the chance to work with actors that are sublimely talented. The people I work with that demonstrate a sense of integrity about the work are much more attractive than those who have talent but lack passion. Maybe my work suffers for it, I don't know as yet, but I'm sticking with the passionate until persuaded otherwise.
Ciao,
Signore Direttore
Monday, January 28, 2008
The Master Says 281
The film of tomorrow will resemble the person who made it, and the number of spectators will be proportional to the number of friends the director has.
Francois Truffaut
Francois Truffaut
Sunday, January 27, 2008
8 Years
My son turns eight today. It's another of life's ordinary yet profound triumphs. I don't know if it's because he's our first child or he's a boy or if it has something to do with my own childhood never quite being realized, but he's always seemed huge to me. He certainly has a willful personality. His teacher says its a good thing there are passionate and opinionated people like Henry in the world, otherwise nothing would ever change. He's been like that since birth. He never learned to crawl and went straight to walking. He's always known what he's wanted. There's a sweetness to him that comes out as well. I've long suffered trying to let the strong willed side of him coexist with his sweet and tender side. My own expectations of how he should behave have been challenged every step of the way. I don't have a favorite amongst my three children, but I will say I've learned more about communication and my own limitations to do so effectively from Henry than from any one else in my entire life. Which makes him a different kind of special to me. As I've come to understand him on his own terms rather than in relation to my own boyhood or my expectations, my love has grown from the prosaic love obligation a father feels for a son to something much more profound. He will continue to challenge me. That I know.
When he was born, many people asked if I was going to get serious about a career. At that point I was about a year into transitioning from working as a full-time club promoter and band manager to a filmmaker. I was tired of managing the dreams of others and wanted to pursue my own. I was writing screenplays and working in the art department on films and commercials. And I was doing some acting. I was very unfocused looking back. Yet I was clear that I wanted to write and direct films. I guess because I had been so successful at my previous career and I hung around a lot of famous industry folk combined with my tendency to "look the part" and talk a good game, all conspired to give me an air of confidence in my new endeavor that I hadn't really earned. Even when I was working as a PA people came up to me at craft services thinking I was the director. But it didn't translate into wealth and fame. I thought both were imminent. I had this great script and a million other ideas. People hired me to shoot stuff for them without seeing a reel. I sat around with accomplished actors talking as if we were on the same level. As far as I was concerned, my career as a filmmaker was well established.
But the people who didn't see all the elbow rubbing, people like our accountant and our lawyer, the grown-ups in our lives, they wanted to know what I was going to do for a living. I thought about going to law school. What underemployed thirty-two year old doesn't? I thought about going back to teaching. I thought about a career as a set technician -- the union art department guys were on me to take the Local 52 test. My friend and boss Happy Massee simply said, I don't see you wearing a tool belt. He was also very excited to hear me take over as director on a short film that I had originally planned only to write. Happy's votes of confidence helped, but they weren't the deciding factor. What it really came down to, and I remember the exact moment of clarity, I was sitting at my first Mac G4 teaching myself Final Cut Pro 1.2 and I realized that I didn't want to tell my kid what I could have been or what I always wanted to be. I wanted to tell him I became what I was through hard work, sacrifice and believing in my dreams. Or that failure came only after I had exhausted every last resource. I figured that would be a better example than a stable career doing something conventional that didn't have my heart.
Henry asked me about a year ago why my movies aren't in theaters. There are a lot of reasonable responses to that question, but before I could offer one I experienced a deep feeling of shame. I felt like a fraud and a failure. The last person I want to subject to any smoke and mirrors is my son, but I wasn't ready to admit defeat and I didn't want to make excuses so I just told him a takes a long time to get to that point and I was working on it. A few months later, he made a comment about how I was trying to get into Hollywood because isn't that the point of making movies. Oddly enough it coincided with my homeschooling him and my complete absorption into caring for him and my family. That experience underscored my reluctance and disinterest in leaving my family for weeks at a time to make movies. I was in the process of embracing making small films, of being a regional DIY filmmaker for the rest of my days. So without any shame at all I let him know that not everyone wants to make Hollywood movies, that some people are perfectly happy making movies that only their friends and family see. I didn't care too much if he understood or if he thought I was making excuses. He'll get it or he won't. The important thing is that I get it.
In a very real sense, Henry has been a key factor in my sticking with things. I've never done anything consistently for eight years before he came along. Sometimes I like to fantasize that if I didn't have a family my career would be much further along. But I know that's not true, without the grounding center that they serve in my life who knows what I'd be doing. So not only has Henry helped me grow as person and heal some of the wounds from my own childhood, he's helped me to become what I was always wanted to be - a father and a filmmaker.
Grazie,
Signore Direttore
When he was born, many people asked if I was going to get serious about a career. At that point I was about a year into transitioning from working as a full-time club promoter and band manager to a filmmaker. I was tired of managing the dreams of others and wanted to pursue my own. I was writing screenplays and working in the art department on films and commercials. And I was doing some acting. I was very unfocused looking back. Yet I was clear that I wanted to write and direct films. I guess because I had been so successful at my previous career and I hung around a lot of famous industry folk combined with my tendency to "look the part" and talk a good game, all conspired to give me an air of confidence in my new endeavor that I hadn't really earned. Even when I was working as a PA people came up to me at craft services thinking I was the director. But it didn't translate into wealth and fame. I thought both were imminent. I had this great script and a million other ideas. People hired me to shoot stuff for them without seeing a reel. I sat around with accomplished actors talking as if we were on the same level. As far as I was concerned, my career as a filmmaker was well established.
But the people who didn't see all the elbow rubbing, people like our accountant and our lawyer, the grown-ups in our lives, they wanted to know what I was going to do for a living. I thought about going to law school. What underemployed thirty-two year old doesn't? I thought about going back to teaching. I thought about a career as a set technician -- the union art department guys were on me to take the Local 52 test. My friend and boss Happy Massee simply said, I don't see you wearing a tool belt. He was also very excited to hear me take over as director on a short film that I had originally planned only to write. Happy's votes of confidence helped, but they weren't the deciding factor. What it really came down to, and I remember the exact moment of clarity, I was sitting at my first Mac G4 teaching myself Final Cut Pro 1.2 and I realized that I didn't want to tell my kid what I could have been or what I always wanted to be. I wanted to tell him I became what I was through hard work, sacrifice and believing in my dreams. Or that failure came only after I had exhausted every last resource. I figured that would be a better example than a stable career doing something conventional that didn't have my heart.
Henry asked me about a year ago why my movies aren't in theaters. There are a lot of reasonable responses to that question, but before I could offer one I experienced a deep feeling of shame. I felt like a fraud and a failure. The last person I want to subject to any smoke and mirrors is my son, but I wasn't ready to admit defeat and I didn't want to make excuses so I just told him a takes a long time to get to that point and I was working on it. A few months later, he made a comment about how I was trying to get into Hollywood because isn't that the point of making movies. Oddly enough it coincided with my homeschooling him and my complete absorption into caring for him and my family. That experience underscored my reluctance and disinterest in leaving my family for weeks at a time to make movies. I was in the process of embracing making small films, of being a regional DIY filmmaker for the rest of my days. So without any shame at all I let him know that not everyone wants to make Hollywood movies, that some people are perfectly happy making movies that only their friends and family see. I didn't care too much if he understood or if he thought I was making excuses. He'll get it or he won't. The important thing is that I get it.
In a very real sense, Henry has been a key factor in my sticking with things. I've never done anything consistently for eight years before he came along. Sometimes I like to fantasize that if I didn't have a family my career would be much further along. But I know that's not true, without the grounding center that they serve in my life who knows what I'd be doing. So not only has Henry helped me grow as person and heal some of the wounds from my own childhood, he's helped me to become what I was always wanted to be - a father and a filmmaker.
Grazie,
Signore Direttore
Saturday, January 26, 2008
The Master Says 280
I never did anything because I thought it was different. I did it because I liked it.
Gordon Willis
Gordon Willis
Friday, January 25, 2008
Week in Review - oo8/4
Movies
Freaky Friday - The original with Jodie Foster. The kids liked it and I found myself laughing at times as well.
All the President's Men - Yep. Good stuff. One thing bothered me though, there were like twenty super long tracking shots following Dustin Hoffman, Robert Redford or Jason Robards around the Washington Post set. I never noticed that before and it seemed strange. Another of Soderbergh's faves. It doesn't make my top ten of all time, but I'm glad to have seen it again. I read that Dustin Hoffman and Robert Redford took great care not to take on or develop character for their portrayals of Woodward and Bernstein as much as the things that drove the men internally. They wanted to preserve the deeds of the men rather than a biography.
The Underneath - Soderbergh's fourth film. A remake of Criss Cross, the Burt Lancaster noir classic. It's a clear early example of the time shifts that Soderbergh played with so successfully a few years later in The Limey and Out of Sight. I've read that Soderbergh doesn't really like the crime genre in and of itself, but that he's very into it being a plot structure within which to explore relationships. I think he does that in an interesting way in this film. It definitely represents the transition between sex, lies and videotape and Out of Sight.
Gilda - Va va vavoom! Rita Hayworth is ... mmmm she can sing (or at least lip sync convincingly), she can dance, and on top of that, she's very, very talented. A young Glenn Ford starts out wonderfully sebaceous and transitions into a shrewd then paranoid then sentimental man. He nor the story quite achieves the tragedy of the Thane of Cawdor and Glamis, but it's an impressive performance and the chemistry between he and Rita is wonderful. The rest of the cast is mostly high camp. The plot convoluted. The sets beautiful art deco creations.
A Generation - A Polish Neo-Realist film by Andrzej Wajda about the Marxist underground during the Nazi occupation. Made in 1954, it was both a celebration of those that resisted the Nazis as well as an indictment of the corrupt policies of the Soviets. They used live ammunition to achieve ultra realism on a low budget. It's a beautiful film. A very young Roman Polanski is in it.
Wet Hot American Summer - I had heard it was hilarious. I guess I'm too old or something. I don't think I laughed once. Why I watched the whole thing, is a good question.
The Manchurian Candidate - Wonderfully abstract. I tried to watch this film several years ago and didn't have the patience. My patience rewarded me this time around. The scene where Sinatra meets Janet Leigh on the train is masterful. I transcribed it and am going to assign it in my class.
I found it interesting that they were able to make a film so incredibly anomalous. Apparently Sinatra's involvement and belief in the project kept the studio at bay.
George Washington - Another film I tried to watch six or seven years ago and failed to stick with it. I was again rewarded. It's very beautifully filmed. Which gives the raw and naive performances a certain grace.
Oliver Twist - David Lean 1948. In the opening scene I immediately recalled seeing it before in the ASC Art of Cinematography DVD. Ernest Dickerson talks about its profound impact on him. Watched it with my son. He never once called it a gray movie as he tends to do when I watch a black and white film. It's a masterpiece - gorgeous, timeless and fully articulated.
The Steel Helmet - One of Samuel Fuller's first films. A Korean War film made in 1951, during the war. He combines melodrama and realism. Some of it was shot on a stage and a few shots on location, mixed with newsreel footage for the battle sequences. It's an odd combination of very fine filmmaking with naive B movie techniques. There are some political ideas that have since become at best cliche and at worst offensive. I don't know enough about film history to cite exactly how it was new and inventive in relation to its era, but it seems very ahead of its time. They must have moved fast pretty fast. The cinematographer, Ernest Miller ASC, shot fifteen films released that year.
Akeelah and the Bee - I found the idea that someone that has the courage to be true to themselves can accomplish great things very powerful and moving. She did a lot more than win a spelling bee - she brought her community and her family together not in the winning as much as in the journey.
Books
The Rest is Noise - I mentioned it last week. I really like the historical aspects of the book, but I can't let go of my lack of knowledge of music theory. I'm trying to understand things that make no sense to me and shouldn't based on my total ignorance. I think there are some interesting parallels between classical musicians in the early 20th century and independent or artistic filmmakers of the early 21st century. Popular audiences didn't readily appreciate Schoenberg or Webern, preferring newer forms of music like ragtime and eventually jazz. Classical devotees wanted to see concerts of 17th and 18th century composers. In the current era, popular film audiences want to see National Treasure and Clovenhoof or whatever it's called. And film aficionados would rather see repertory films than contemporary unknowns. Before you argue that, what's going to get a better turnout over a weekend at Cinema 21 or Film Forum? A new Park Chan-wook film or a restored print of Days of Heaven? There will be a line around the block for the thirty year old Malick film. I've stood in it. And I've had my choice of seats for all of Park's films. Certainly ragtime and jazz are more rigorous art forms than Hollywood blockbusters, but that's beside the point I'm trying to make.
The Art of the Storyboard by John Hart - I have such mixed feelings about storyboards. And I'm a damn perfectionist. So a lot of the time, I won't draw them if I'm not creating impressive little cartoons. Then I'm not sure I like the idea of assuming how it's all going to work out. And then again, it seems most cameramen need the picture because they're very visual. And I want to have a coherent and productive conversation with the man behind the camera.
It's a decent book. He emphasizes the importance of using the boards to previsualize rather than to be good drawings in themselves. I need that kind of affirmation. As I need to further explore the use of storyboards. This book helps.
I need to get into some fiction. I've got plenty of novels within arm's reach. I don't know...
Freaky Friday - The original with Jodie Foster. The kids liked it and I found myself laughing at times as well.
All the President's Men - Yep. Good stuff. One thing bothered me though, there were like twenty super long tracking shots following Dustin Hoffman, Robert Redford or Jason Robards around the Washington Post set. I never noticed that before and it seemed strange. Another of Soderbergh's faves. It doesn't make my top ten of all time, but I'm glad to have seen it again. I read that Dustin Hoffman and Robert Redford took great care not to take on or develop character for their portrayals of Woodward and Bernstein as much as the things that drove the men internally. They wanted to preserve the deeds of the men rather than a biography.
The Underneath - Soderbergh's fourth film. A remake of Criss Cross, the Burt Lancaster noir classic. It's a clear early example of the time shifts that Soderbergh played with so successfully a few years later in The Limey and Out of Sight. I've read that Soderbergh doesn't really like the crime genre in and of itself, but that he's very into it being a plot structure within which to explore relationships. I think he does that in an interesting way in this film. It definitely represents the transition between sex, lies and videotape and Out of Sight.
Gilda - Va va vavoom! Rita Hayworth is ... mmmm she can sing (or at least lip sync convincingly), she can dance, and on top of that, she's very, very talented. A young Glenn Ford starts out wonderfully sebaceous and transitions into a shrewd then paranoid then sentimental man. He nor the story quite achieves the tragedy of the Thane of Cawdor and Glamis, but it's an impressive performance and the chemistry between he and Rita is wonderful. The rest of the cast is mostly high camp. The plot convoluted. The sets beautiful art deco creations.
A Generation - A Polish Neo-Realist film by Andrzej Wajda about the Marxist underground during the Nazi occupation. Made in 1954, it was both a celebration of those that resisted the Nazis as well as an indictment of the corrupt policies of the Soviets. They used live ammunition to achieve ultra realism on a low budget. It's a beautiful film. A very young Roman Polanski is in it.
Wet Hot American Summer - I had heard it was hilarious. I guess I'm too old or something. I don't think I laughed once. Why I watched the whole thing, is a good question.
The Manchurian Candidate - Wonderfully abstract. I tried to watch this film several years ago and didn't have the patience. My patience rewarded me this time around. The scene where Sinatra meets Janet Leigh on the train is masterful. I transcribed it and am going to assign it in my class.
I found it interesting that they were able to make a film so incredibly anomalous. Apparently Sinatra's involvement and belief in the project kept the studio at bay.
George Washington - Another film I tried to watch six or seven years ago and failed to stick with it. I was again rewarded. It's very beautifully filmed. Which gives the raw and naive performances a certain grace.
Oliver Twist - David Lean 1948. In the opening scene I immediately recalled seeing it before in the ASC Art of Cinematography DVD. Ernest Dickerson talks about its profound impact on him. Watched it with my son. He never once called it a gray movie as he tends to do when I watch a black and white film. It's a masterpiece - gorgeous, timeless and fully articulated.
The Steel Helmet - One of Samuel Fuller's first films. A Korean War film made in 1951, during the war. He combines melodrama and realism. Some of it was shot on a stage and a few shots on location, mixed with newsreel footage for the battle sequences. It's an odd combination of very fine filmmaking with naive B movie techniques. There are some political ideas that have since become at best cliche and at worst offensive. I don't know enough about film history to cite exactly how it was new and inventive in relation to its era, but it seems very ahead of its time. They must have moved fast pretty fast. The cinematographer, Ernest Miller ASC, shot fifteen films released that year.
Akeelah and the Bee - I found the idea that someone that has the courage to be true to themselves can accomplish great things very powerful and moving. She did a lot more than win a spelling bee - she brought her community and her family together not in the winning as much as in the journey.
Books
The Rest is Noise - I mentioned it last week. I really like the historical aspects of the book, but I can't let go of my lack of knowledge of music theory. I'm trying to understand things that make no sense to me and shouldn't based on my total ignorance. I think there are some interesting parallels between classical musicians in the early 20th century and independent or artistic filmmakers of the early 21st century. Popular audiences didn't readily appreciate Schoenberg or Webern, preferring newer forms of music like ragtime and eventually jazz. Classical devotees wanted to see concerts of 17th and 18th century composers. In the current era, popular film audiences want to see National Treasure and Clovenhoof or whatever it's called. And film aficionados would rather see repertory films than contemporary unknowns. Before you argue that, what's going to get a better turnout over a weekend at Cinema 21 or Film Forum? A new Park Chan-wook film or a restored print of Days of Heaven? There will be a line around the block for the thirty year old Malick film. I've stood in it. And I've had my choice of seats for all of Park's films. Certainly ragtime and jazz are more rigorous art forms than Hollywood blockbusters, but that's beside the point I'm trying to make.
The Art of the Storyboard by John Hart - I have such mixed feelings about storyboards. And I'm a damn perfectionist. So a lot of the time, I won't draw them if I'm not creating impressive little cartoons. Then I'm not sure I like the idea of assuming how it's all going to work out. And then again, it seems most cameramen need the picture because they're very visual. And I want to have a coherent and productive conversation with the man behind the camera.
It's a decent book. He emphasizes the importance of using the boards to previsualize rather than to be good drawings in themselves. I need that kind of affirmation. As I need to further explore the use of storyboards. This book helps.
I need to get into some fiction. I've got plenty of novels within arm's reach. I don't know...
Thursday, January 24, 2008
From the Mouth of Ali G: Respeck
I was dashing off a quick email to an actor this morning about getting together next Wednesday for some woodshedding. I gave him some news about a short that we worked on last year. I saw a cut of it the other day with the guy that's cutting it. I wrote some smart-assed thing about its completion date coinciding with the year anniversary of shooting it. Then I hit delete. I thought, why shit on it? Respect the process. It's not an easy thing to make films. It's obvious that the entirety of the process has been something I'm coming to terms with. Making excuses, acting flippantly apologetic or being ashamed isn't going to change anything. It takes a long time to learn how to make a film. I've often been quick to gently remind others how relatively short a time they've been acting or making films. Where's my compassion for moi?
There's certainly more money to be made in writing books on making films than there is making films. Maybe I've found a topic that hasn't been covered: Kill The Poseur Within - How to stop acting like a filmmaker and start doing the work to become a filmmaker. A whole line of self-help books for the wannabe artist that can't let go of his ego. The beginner series could be sold with book jackets with fake titles like, Aesthetic Semiosis in Post-Caeusescu Romanian Cinema. Or it could just be a podcast.
Rispettoso,
Signore Direttore
There's certainly more money to be made in writing books on making films than there is making films. Maybe I've found a topic that hasn't been covered: Kill The Poseur Within - How to stop acting like a filmmaker and start doing the work to become a filmmaker. A whole line of self-help books for the wannabe artist that can't let go of his ego. The beginner series could be sold with book jackets with fake titles like, Aesthetic Semiosis in Post-Caeusescu Romanian Cinema. Or it could just be a podcast.
Rispettoso,
Signore Direttore
Wednesday, January 23, 2008
Gun Shy ... again
I posted the cut I made of partners on YouTube over the weekend, but it didn't upload correctly. It took a lot of time and fuss. I uploaded the clip on the blog just fine. So rather than send out a mass email linking to it on YouTube, I linked instead to my blog. A lot of folks checked in and said some kind words, about partners and the blog itself. I appreciate it, yet I haven't been too keen to write much since for fear that I'll be branded a pedantic fool.
One of the friends that I've corresponded with since then is a very talented, accomplished and disciplined artist. We spoke briefly about the most important thing being to get out of the way of the work. I don't want to be reliant on the opinions of others, yet I need to make sure the story I'm trying to tell is coming across. Not to everyone in my case, as I'm not looking to create mass entertainment. As my friend shared, "Some judge too harshly and do too little themselves, others are too complimentary and tend to make mush."
I do notice that my conversations after sharing something I've done, whether it's successful or not, take on more humility and grace. I feel like I'm participating in a dialogue with another artist rather than operating from a place of arrogant insecurity. Whether I'm responding to putting myself out there in the "right" way also doesn't matter that much. I just need to experience it. I am not in a position at the moment to be sure of my motives or anything of the sort. I just have to be where I'm at with putting my work out there as well as my process, which are likely one in the same.
So this is where I'm at. Looks like the office is going to work out. And class as well. There's been a good response. I like all six of the people that have signed up. I don't think I'm going to take on any more until after the first month. Well, I probably won't turn somebody interesting away, but I'm not going to do any soliciting. And since I'm teaching a class again rather than reopening the studio, I can say no to anybody that I don't feel good about working with.
I've done a little editing on partners. I need to do the sound and the color and then that's done. I spent the day Sunday with one of the principals in London Calling. He was in town and we did some ADR. It went as well as can be expected considering he played the part almost three years ago and I wasn't very prepared for him as he came to town last minute. But we did our best and it's definitely something to work with. For all my heel dragging in getting it finished, he was surprised to see that it's actually pretty good. Like most strong personality traits, perfectionism is a double-edged sword. It's pretty good as is, but I think I can make it better. And I owe it to the film to try. Who cares how long it takes? I'm working on it, however slowly.
I shot a little exercise with Oct. on Monday. Just some one on one work. Operating the camera makes it difficult for me to watch performance very closely. I think it's a good exercise once in awhile. Let's me experience the camera more directly if not what it sees. I look at light and movement in a different way. It also makes me appreciate how important having someone else worry about all that stuff is. I had someone lined up to operate the camera, but I decided it would be better to build on my relationship with the actor and allow her to experience a more profound sense of intimacy with camera and director. It develops my trust as well. I thought we got what we needed for the scene. Now when I look at it I'll find out if that's true. I'm doing a lot of that lately. It's scary. It feels as if I'm disconnecting from the work somehow, like I'm suddenly tossing caution to the wind and I'll soon be subject to the law of diminishing returns. But if I really look at it and learn to look at it ever more closely and then put it out to friends and colleagues, I'm sure to discover that I need to go deeper or that my senses are in fact pretty sharp. Or somewhere in between. It's getting out of the way of the work. Letting the work speak for itself. Fucking terrifying. Yet the more I show up in this way, the more the bogeyman is exposed as being but a fantasy.
Something else occurs to me about working this fast. I haven't prepared enough to know what it is that I'm looking for. All that I've mused on above remains valid, however I think it wise to be aware of this factor. One thing I could do is subject the scenes to my own preparation routine, if only in a condensed version. I think I'm doing that on a subconscious level as a matter of experience, but I'm not entirely sure. That's an easy one to convince oneself of out of pride.
I'm looking forward to having an office away from home again. Somehow I think it might be a shorter journey to 10th and Ankeny than it's been down the back stairs. I'm, as ever, looking forward to shooting more scenes. I'm even beginning to look forward to editing.
One of my friends in NY asked if the woodshed I refer to at the end of partners is "where I keep my dogma tied up." I responded, "Yeah, while my dogma is tied up out back I let my dogme run wild." To which he replied, "Truly, you are the king of indepedantic cinema." Gotta love people that know how to take the piss out of their friends.
¡viva!
Signore Direttore
One of the friends that I've corresponded with since then is a very talented, accomplished and disciplined artist. We spoke briefly about the most important thing being to get out of the way of the work. I don't want to be reliant on the opinions of others, yet I need to make sure the story I'm trying to tell is coming across. Not to everyone in my case, as I'm not looking to create mass entertainment. As my friend shared, "Some judge too harshly and do too little themselves, others are too complimentary and tend to make mush."
I do notice that my conversations after sharing something I've done, whether it's successful or not, take on more humility and grace. I feel like I'm participating in a dialogue with another artist rather than operating from a place of arrogant insecurity. Whether I'm responding to putting myself out there in the "right" way also doesn't matter that much. I just need to experience it. I am not in a position at the moment to be sure of my motives or anything of the sort. I just have to be where I'm at with putting my work out there as well as my process, which are likely one in the same.
So this is where I'm at. Looks like the office is going to work out. And class as well. There's been a good response. I like all six of the people that have signed up. I don't think I'm going to take on any more until after the first month. Well, I probably won't turn somebody interesting away, but I'm not going to do any soliciting. And since I'm teaching a class again rather than reopening the studio, I can say no to anybody that I don't feel good about working with.
I've done a little editing on partners. I need to do the sound and the color and then that's done. I spent the day Sunday with one of the principals in London Calling. He was in town and we did some ADR. It went as well as can be expected considering he played the part almost three years ago and I wasn't very prepared for him as he came to town last minute. But we did our best and it's definitely something to work with. For all my heel dragging in getting it finished, he was surprised to see that it's actually pretty good. Like most strong personality traits, perfectionism is a double-edged sword. It's pretty good as is, but I think I can make it better. And I owe it to the film to try. Who cares how long it takes? I'm working on it, however slowly.
I shot a little exercise with Oct. on Monday. Just some one on one work. Operating the camera makes it difficult for me to watch performance very closely. I think it's a good exercise once in awhile. Let's me experience the camera more directly if not what it sees. I look at light and movement in a different way. It also makes me appreciate how important having someone else worry about all that stuff is. I had someone lined up to operate the camera, but I decided it would be better to build on my relationship with the actor and allow her to experience a more profound sense of intimacy with camera and director. It develops my trust as well. I thought we got what we needed for the scene. Now when I look at it I'll find out if that's true. I'm doing a lot of that lately. It's scary. It feels as if I'm disconnecting from the work somehow, like I'm suddenly tossing caution to the wind and I'll soon be subject to the law of diminishing returns. But if I really look at it and learn to look at it ever more closely and then put it out to friends and colleagues, I'm sure to discover that I need to go deeper or that my senses are in fact pretty sharp. Or somewhere in between. It's getting out of the way of the work. Letting the work speak for itself. Fucking terrifying. Yet the more I show up in this way, the more the bogeyman is exposed as being but a fantasy.
Something else occurs to me about working this fast. I haven't prepared enough to know what it is that I'm looking for. All that I've mused on above remains valid, however I think it wise to be aware of this factor. One thing I could do is subject the scenes to my own preparation routine, if only in a condensed version. I think I'm doing that on a subconscious level as a matter of experience, but I'm not entirely sure. That's an easy one to convince oneself of out of pride.
I'm looking forward to having an office away from home again. Somehow I think it might be a shorter journey to 10th and Ankeny than it's been down the back stairs. I'm, as ever, looking forward to shooting more scenes. I'm even beginning to look forward to editing.
One of my friends in NY asked if the woodshed I refer to at the end of partners is "where I keep my dogma tied up." I responded, "Yeah, while my dogma is tied up out back I let my dogme run wild." To which he replied, "Truly, you are the king of indepedantic cinema." Gotta love people that know how to take the piss out of their friends.
¡viva!
Signore Direttore
Tuesday, January 22, 2008
Truly a Shame
Heath Ledger is dead at 28. I really can't believe it. I met him once and had a short chat. He was incredibly sweet and down to earth. I was looking forward to seeing him progress through a long career.
My heart goes out to his family and friends. He will definitely be missed.
My heart goes out to his family and friends. He will definitely be missed.
The Master Says 279
If it is art, it is not for all and if it is for all, it's not art.
The serious artist should stop flailing his arms in a bid for attention and instead withdraw into a principled solitude.
Arnold Schoenberg
The serious artist should stop flailing his arms in a bid for attention and instead withdraw into a principled solitude.
Arnold Schoenberg
Monday, January 21, 2008
The Master Says 278
Almost always, the creative dedicated minority has made the world better.
Martin Luther King Jr.
Saturday, January 19, 2008
The Master Says 277
To relax our attention into the present moment is extraordinarily simple, but, for most of us, it demands a lifetime of practice.
Ruth Zaporah
Ruth Zaporah
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)