After deciding to choose the notion of crossing the 180 degree line as my area of exploration for the rest of the semester, I endeavoured to find some effective examples. The clips that I showed in my presentation from The Shining and The Dark Knight were both quite interesting and good examples, however I felt that they both shared the same intention to instill unease and tension within their audiences. Whilst they both cross the line in very different ways, the former being far more blatant that the other, I have been searching for other films that use the same technique for a different effect.

One scene I was able to find which used the technique for a comedic effect was this clip from Donnie Darko. Rather than aiming to unsettle the audience, the director instead crosses the line to show us an area of the setting which would not have been visible had the rule been adhered to. The sudden cut to the other side of the axis, revealing the man watching the two teenagers adds shock value to the scene. I especially like this example as it subtly reminds the viewer that the world in which the movie take place is 3D like our own, not the flat image that we see on the screen.

Admittedly, these three clips are all from fairly modern, American films. Perhaps they will be good examples to try and recreate over the first couple of weeks, but it would be important to try and explore how other countries approach the concept. An interesting written exploration may also be to investigate how the rule came to fruition, and the manner in which it has been treated over time. Also, these examples all seem to have deliberately crossed the line for a specific purpose or effect. I would like to explore what some other reasons to cross the line may be, and if we really need a reason at all. Can we simply cross the line for artistic effect, without the intention of inciting some sort of emotion in the audience, or is doing so still too rare and jarring for the viewer?

The terms ‘mise en scene’ and ‘montage’ have been provided primarily westernized definitions in my mind over the past few years of my secondary and tertiary education. Basically, to me, ‘mise en scene’ was everything visible within a shot, and the term ‘montage’ was usually applied to a series of shots that were cut together in order to show some type of progression or growth within the subject of a film. In regards to mise en scene, Bordwell and Thompson (2013) state that filmmakers and scholars “use the term to signify the director’s control over what appears in the film frame”. With origins in the theatre, the terms usually applies to those aspects that were also associated with ‘mise en scene’ in stage performances, such as “setting, lighting, costume and makeup, and staging and performance”. Relatively similar to my own, I do find this definition quite broad, although it does seem to be an important element in relation to coverage. The contents of the frame would make an important element to the way in which we cover a scene. Certain gestures or props may be integral to the story line, and require specific coverage like a close up or zoom in order to highlight their significance to the audience. Contrarily, mise en scene may also rely equally upon the intended coverage. The desired shot may require a certain lighting set up or blocking, in order to complete the decoupage effectively. It is for this reason that I believe these two aspects of film-making can be reliant on one another.

Bordwell and Thompson provide two different definitions for montage. The first, a rather broad perspective, simply states that it is “a synonym for editing”. I find this definition troublesome, as although it allows for far more leeway that the definition I had conjured up, it seems to lack an insight into the relationship between shots. The second definition provided by Bordwell and Thompson is that it “emphasizes dynamic, often discontinuous relationships between shots and the juxtaposition of images to create ideas not present in either shot by itself”. This second definition highlights the ability to conjure meaning through the simple association of two shots. Although the definition I had brainstormed myself focused primarily on a montage sequence, I do not think it is exempt from Bordwell and Thompson’s definition, rather a small facet of it. The focus of a montage sequence is to show progression whilst condensing time, which would not be possible without the process of editing or ordering these shots to create the “idea” of growth.

Perhaps a better example of the montage that Bordwell and Thompson describe in their second definition is the iconic match cut of a bone and satellite from 2001: A Space Odyssey. The two shots alone, shown seperately from one another, would not imply the themes of human evolution and the passing of time which are more obvious when the two images are cut together. Although much shorter than the traditional montage sequence, this cut, which certainly adheres to both of the broader versions of montage, still communicates the progression of time and increased knowledge of the human race.

It seems we often lean towards broader definitions of terms in film studies in order to cover the most eclectic examples. Although the terms mise en scene, decoupage and montage all seem to have relatively vague descriptions, it seems that they also rely upon and fuel one another. If we have a preconcieved idea of decoupage before filming, it is likely to consist of elements of mise en scene and montage, as when we envisage a final product, we usually imagine the contents and editing of the frame within the film, not simply the coverage of the elements alone.

REFERENCES:

Bordwell, D, Thompson, K 2013, Film Art: An Introduction, 10th edn, McGraw-Hill, New York.

Revisiting the Studio Guide this week has both refreshed the aim of our studies in this course, as well as highlighted my change in thought when discussing coverage. I initially chose this studio as my first glimpse into media studies because I was interested in learning about the basic operations of technical equipment, and wanted to investigate how these instruments could be used creatively.

With only a minuscule of technical knowledge when beginning the course six weeks ago, I definitely feel that I have achieved my goal of gaining a ground level knowledge on how to operate film equipment.  My second aim, to see how these skills could be used in unique ways, has not been developed too much yet. I think that perhaps I had a slight misconception about the focus of the course when I first found out about it. The Studio Guide notes that coverage can have two quite broad meanings. One meaning relates more so to “expressive potential”, and the art of cinema. It is this area of creativity that was at the forefront of my mind at the beginning of the course.

The second perspective on coverage is simply being able to capture a scene, which “alludes to functionality and industrial efficiency, and is closely associated with the notion of the supremacy of a script, or text, as blueprint”. It is this definition that we have been focusing on a lot in class. Although this is not exactly how I assumed the course would be conducted when it first began, It has been an important and valuable lesson into some of the dynamics of the film-making industry, and the collaborative nature of a film set. At the start of the semester my definition of coverage was too narrowly focused on the creative elements of the concept, and did not consider the other, more industrial ways in which this term could be applied. 

Now, six weeks in, my thoughts on the two major perspectives on coverage are far more equally balanced in their importance. Becoming more knowledgeable on the politics and procedures involved with filming has heightened the importance of the “Do we have sufficient coverage?” way of thinking in my mind, so that it is now on par with the creative elements of the term. I would, however, like to explore the creative side of coverage throughout the rest of the semester. We have learnt a lot about the rules of film-making in the first half of the course, but rules are often made to be broken. I have been considering choosing the 180 degree line as the topic for my individual research project, as I think this will allow me to research both the technical and creative side of coverage. It is a frequently noted rule that ‘the line’ between two characters is not to be crossed by the camera, but this has been achieved successfully before. I think it would be interesting to investigate how this can and can’t be done. Hopefully, by delving deeper into this area of interest I will be able to further fulfill my aim of becoming both creative and technically competent in my work.

During this week’s Tuesday class, we were given the opportunity to direct a small shoot in an area of our interest. Although a lot of the class seemed to opt for more narrative style and dialogue driven experiments, I mainly just wanted to play around with lighting.

I had a rough idea of the particular set ups that I wanted to film, but I mainly planned on just manipulating and maneuvering the light source around on the day and seeing what we ended up with. One of the main problems we found ourselves with was finding a dark enough area to shoot in, which would ensure that the light we were using was the main lighting source, rather than daylight or the ceiling lights in a classroom. We ended up down in the edit suites, as it’s usually pretty dark in that area, however, we discovered that all of the lighting within the suites are automatically turned on when movement is sensed. We ended up finding a small, darker corner of the room, yet this limited us to only really being able to light Jess from the front. We had literally backed ourselves into a corner, which meant that we couldn’t really do much in terms of back lighting, or lighting Jess from a distance.

Despite these difficulties, I think that the rest of the shoot went relatively well, and that we were still able to get a variety of different looks, which each made Jess’s facial features look moderately different from shot to shot. Most of these looks, due to the small space we were in, are fairly dramatic, so I would like to possibly find a better location to re-shoot with more natural effects in the future. A bit more pre-production planning would also help if I were to complete this task again, especially when it comes to finding an appropriate space to shoot in, as well as some preconceived ideas of how I want the lighting to look. This way, I would be changing the lighting in order to achieve a set result, rather than just moving it around, hoping to find something that looked interesting. Finding some frames of unique lighting in films that I like, and bringing them along to the shoot may aid in this process.

One of my main goals of this task was to simply get my hands on a piece of equipment that I hadn’t used before, so learning what worked best for the light that we had, and how to set it up was also a valuable experience. Although other members of the group were in charge of editing the footage together, I did ask them to make the shots black and white. I felt this ensured that attention is primarily given to the actual change in lighting, rather than the changes in colouring that occurred when the light source was moved closer or farther away from the subject.

Please see below the final outcome of the shoot.

Sometime in the last year or so, whilst conducting a reading I have since struggled to refind, this short film was brought to my attention. Directed by Hollis Frampton in 1969, it features nothing but a lemon and a great investigation into the potentials of lighting. It also always reminds me of 2001: A Space Odyssey, yet more fruity!

Something about the film has stuck with me since I first watched it, so when I found out that there would be an opportunity to spend some time investigating an area of our interest on Tuesday, I thought that performing a task inspired by this short film would be perfect. Lighting has always been a bit of an area of contention for me. I usually neglect it and negate it’s importance until the very last minute when I find myself with a camera, a dimly lit room and the gut feeling that I’ve forgotten something.

I am interested by the dramatic effect that lighting can have in a scene, especially to the human face. For this reason, I am planning on filming a few shots of an actor’s face, with various different lighting set ups. Inspired by Lemon, I think it would be intriguing to make the actor’s expression the exact same for each shot, and by only altering the lighting, see how different we can make the expression look. Perhaps we could start with relatively subtle lighting set ups, and gradually make the light harsher on the actor’s face. Although Lemon is only one shot, I think that in order to properly experiment and play with different set ups, I will simply cut from one shot to another. Although this idea is relatively simplistic, I think that it will be appropriate for the amount of time we will have, and allow me to focus on improving my technical skills rather than focusing on narrative.

I think that this exercise will help to develop my skills in an area I am relatively unfamiliar with, and demonstrate just how influential lighting can be.

Tom Reilly’s chapter entitled “The Absolute Brilliance of the Single Master Shot”, describes some of the benefits of covering a scene in only one shot. Initially, the author’s main focus tends to be on how much time and  money can be saved by not needing to complete multiple different camera set ups. I can definitely see how money can be saved, but I find myself with a point of contention in regards to the time that such a shot would take.

With a simple, static set up in which the camera can be set up for the filming, have the record button pressed, and walked away from whilst the actor weave their magic, it is easy to see how time could be saved. For shots with a significant amount of movement and action, however, It seems that a significant amount of time could be eaten up by the process of choreographing and blocking scenes. During long takes, you can’t just cut after 10 minutes of continuous filming for a simple mistake like someone missing their mark. Reilly does note this, when he states, “it is complicated and somewhat daring to block and light a long master shot”, however, the benefits seem to greatly outweigh the downfalls for him.

When filming the dance hall scene last week in class, we chose to cover the scenario by taking multiple shots from different angles, whilst the other group decided to use one long take. They did, ultimately finish before we did, so I suppose this is testament to Reilly’s argument.

Films like Birdman (2014) and Rope (1948), both utilize long takes in very different and sophisticated ways. Whilst Birdman utilises a lot of hand held camera movement and the transportation of actors from one location to the other,  Rope uses the long take slightly less daringly but equally as well. Modern technology has obviously been a major factor in the way the films were shot, but even with a 66 year gap between their release, the use of a “single master shot” is just as intriguing.

The opening scene of Rope features one of very few obvious cuts in the film. As the camera shifts our view away from the street and to an apartment window, we hear the scream of man. This is when the film cuts from the exterior window to the victim being strangled with a rope around his neck. The editing mirrors the story line here, just as the man’s air supply is cut off, we get a rare cut in the footage. The long takes that follow this cut then throw the full weight of what has just happened right in our faces, and forces us to contemplate it’s consequences. There is definitely some camera movement in this following shot, however, it is not overt enough to make us say ‘Hang on a second! There hasn’t been a cut for ages! How cool!”. This is because essentially, there just doesn’t need to be a cut. We can see all that we need to see, and a close up or shot reverse shot technique just wouldn’t enhance the quality of the scene.

Birdman has the privilege of being able to maneuver around different spaces, but even with more advanced technology it is difficult to see how a scene such as this could have even been considered without extensive planning. Who will lead the movement out into the corridor first? Who will the camera follow after the punch is thrown? When will the extras move into their position so that the camera can turn and capture their judgmental stares? These are surely just some of the questions that needed to be considered before filming even begun.

Rope and Birdman both take advantage of the master shot that Reilly preaches. It is reasonable to assume that there was less time spent on blocking and choreography for Rope in the scenes discussed, but I think that the decision on whether we should use a long take is really dependent on the scene to be filmed.

Most notably in this reading, Reilly states that the long take “completely eliminates the need for coverage”. I found this notion quite shocking, as it is easy to see, particularly in the Birdman scene, that vast amounts of space and detail have been captured in a single shot. The Rope scene may not reveal much of the film’s main location, the apartment, to us yet, but certainly throughout the film we are exposed to many characters and rooms within the space. Perhaps Reilly’s definition of coverage is quite different  to my own, however, I struggle to believe that vast coverage cannot be achieved in a single take.

References:

‘The absolute brilliance of the single master shot’ 2009 in Reilly, Tom, The big picture : filmmaking lessons from a life on the set, Thomas Dunne Books: St. Martin’s Press, New York, pp. 146-149.

I found this week’s Tuesday class particularly interesting, as for the first time we all worked as one big group, each with a specific role to fulfill. We were re-shooting a scene that we had undertaken in smaller groups the previous week, which made the two different sets easily comparable to each other.

In theory, one would think that many hands make light work. It seemed that we would be able to get the filming done relatively quickly, as everyone would be able to concentrate specifically on their job without having to multi-task. This also meant that the time taken to set up equipment had the potential to be reduced, as everything could be set up at the same time, rather than setting up the tripod, then the camera, then moving onto the sound equipment and so on.

Overall, however, the two different shoots seemed to take a similar amount of time. With a larger crew, there was a lot of time spent bouncing ideas off one another, and the communication process amongst one another was relatively slow. Working with less people on the previous task meant that we were able to easily raise and mend concerns without having to yell across the room at one another or wait until the person we needed to speak with was finished resolving issues with five other people. Working in groups of about five or six meant that we could identify a problem, and immediately communicate to the person responsible for that area what needed to be done to fix it, or even help to make the change ourselves.

I think it will be interesting to compare the footage of each shoot to one another. Although the process of filming with a bigger crew may have felt slower, it is quite possible that the quality of what is produced will be higher. Because we were each able to focus on our own task, it is likely that we had more time to make minor modifications to picture or sound quality, resulting in a better final product.