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
No comments:
Post a Comment