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.

As predicted in my former post about coverage, my perception of the definition has already been altered. My previous post tended to focus on the need to prepare and plan for a shot or a scene in order to film a good piece of coverage. I did note the term needed to be broad in it’s definition, and that the simple act of placing down the camera in front of something would indeed adhere to having covered the scene. However, perhaps I put too much emphasis on the need for planning to create good/watchable découpage.

It seems that it is likely that a great shot could occur by accident. Sure, planning out what we are going to shoot in advance may make us feel better prepared and ensure that we have access to the equipment we need, but over planning does often have the power to blow everything out of proportion.

In the interview we watched in class, a French filmmaker’s use of the term ‘découpage’ was translated to ‘choice of shots’. It is possible that this is coverage in it’s simplest form. But does the suggestion that there is a ‘choice’ even applicable? I would think that if we are trying to get to the bare bones of ‘coverage’, that the selection of which shots will be included in the final cut of the film will be mostly the doing of the editor.

We could suggest that the decision to put the camera in a particular position would require a choice on part of the DOP or director, but if we are excluding the need for preparation prior to filming, coverage could literally comply taking the camera out of the bag, pressing play and walking away.

It still likely that my definition of coverage/découpage will again change within the blink of an eye, but I hope that by reflecting upon how these opinions alter, I will be able to find a more solid definition eventually.

This analysis will be conducted on this scene from Alfred Hitchcock’s RearWindow (1954)

Situated at the climax of the film, this scene depicts L.B. Jefferies (James Stewart) attempting to defend himself from his neighbour, Lars Thornwald (Raymond Burr), after the latter discovers that Jefferies has been witness to his crimes over the course of the film.

The first shot is a medium close up of Jefferies, as he notices that the lights in Thorwald apartment are out. This is indicated to us by a follow up shot of Thornwald’s seemingly empty home. The film then returns to the same medium close up of Jefferies, who quickly answers a telephone as it rings, revealing that he believes that Thornwald has left his apartment.  When there is no response on the other end of the line, and he hears the line go dead, Jefferies realises that the caller is not the person he expected it to be. To demonstrate the danger of this slip up, which reveals to Thornwald that he is indeed being spied on, Hitchcock utilises a slow zoom in on Stewart’s face, ending the shot in a close up frame. Jefferies does not realise what he has just revealed until, after momentarily seeming confused, he glances over at the neighbouring window, and as Stewart conveys the fear of the character, the camera begins it’s zoom. This tightening of the frame in conjunction with the character’s enlightenment helps to convey the importance of the mistake that has just occurred.

Hearing a noise in the hallway, Jefferies turns to look at his front door. This is followed by a shot of light seeping through under the door frame, from the point of view of the main character. This shot is important, not just because it shows us what the character is specifically looking at, but because it subtly indicates to the viewer that this doorway will be important in the scene. This is where the attacker will enter. Had this shot not been included in the final cut of the film, the doorway would not have been set up well prior to Thornwald entering, and would not give the audience an indication of the space in which the scene will unfold. Without this shot, the scenario may have also been made to look as if Jefferies is just over paranoid about a sound of someone passing through his building. The shot of the door in conjunction with Jefferies’ fear signals that the character is not safe from whatever lurks behind it.

We then return to a shot of Jefferies, but this time from a high angle, close up. We are reminded of the severe disadvantage that the character is at when it comes time to fight his attacker, as he slowly and smoothly turns towards the door in his wheelchair. The high angle shows Jeff’s lack of power in the the impending confrontation. The scene again cuts back to the doorway, further building tension and suspense. A eye level mid shot of Jeff in his wheel chair follows, again stressing the character’s disability. This shot continues, with the camera being raised up and tilted down as Jefferies struggles to make his way across his apartment. The awkward maneuvering of the wheelchair around the room is displayed in this and the subsequent shots, proving that without the presence of Lisa or Stella, he is truly alone and defenseless.

Returning to a shot of the doorway again, we hear a switch flick and the light coming from underneath the door disappear. The tension built up in response to prior shots of the doorway is now justified. After returning to a shot of Jefferies as he backs away from the door in concern, we are treated with a close up of his camera flash as he places disposable light bulbs onto his lap. Similarly to the recurring shots of the doorway, Hitchcock is telling us that this item will be integral, and that we should make note of it’s presence.

Using close ups of important objects signifies the necessity of these items within the scene, and ensures that their presence isn’t only just recognized when they are used. For example, without the added close up shot of the camera flash on Jefferies’ lap, it’s presence may have felt coincidental when it is finally used. These care and time taken to include these extra snippets take us through the thought processes of the character as he prepares a measly defense.

It is in these final few shots that the use of lighting becomes especially prevalent. Jefferies returns to his position at the window, hiding in the shadows. Yet his broken leg remains lit, a last reminder of his weakness and the cause if this whole scenario. As the doorway slowly creeps open revealing a portion of Thornwald’s face, lit in the darkness, we view him from a low angle, again reinforcing his dominance in this confrontation.

During this scene, Hitchcock masterfully paces the shots and creates a feeling of claustrophobia in the small apartment. The dark lighting emphasizes the small space, only shedding small portions of light into the room. We, like Jefferies, feel truly trapped and helpless to the impending danger.

I believe that the term ‘coverage’ needs to be broad in it’s definition when applied to the cinematic world. Coverage of a scene can be as simple as plopping the camera down in front of something, anything, and pressing record. technically speaking, the subject would be covered. But this does not necessarily make for a very interesting piece of work.

To have truly covered a scene, I would like to believe that preparation has been undertaken to collaboratively and uniquely record an event in a way that ensures the content can be displayed in it’s intended form to the audience. This does not necessarily mean that the scene is easy to follow, because it’s possible that we’re not supposed to see everything clearly within the frame. A murder mystery would not be so thrilling if we got a good clear shot of the murderer whom we aren’t supposed to know the identity of. This is why preparation is the key to covering a scene. One must know what needs to be seen, and how it should be shown before filming it, even if this planning consists of purely making a mental note or brainstorm.

Coverage is the way in which a filmmaker unveils the action or situation to us. It can be creative, simplistic, or unconventional, but it must adhere to the needs of the rest of the film. We need to see the frame slowly zoom in on Kane’s childhood sled to reveal the meaning of “Rosebud”, to truly understand when the character truly experienced joy. Without these final few shots, we would be left only to witness the billionaire’s hoarded junk.  Though this might be an extreme example of the term, it proves that the concept of “coverage” alone can be a key storytelling feature. It is not simply an avenue to witness an actor’s talent. It has the power to set the tone of a scene, create suspense, and progress a plot forward.

It is extremely possible that the definition of “coverage” that I have attempted to articulate in this post will completely useless and inaccurate to me within the week, but hopefully I will be able to solidify a definition for this term by the end of the semester.

In this week’s classes we split up into two different groups, and each attempted to shoot a scene revolving around a two passengers in a train. With seven different people in each group, we were able to split up the required roles amongst ourselves. Although I feel that audio recording and editing is my weakest point, I put my hand up for the role of the boom operator, mainly because of my height advantage. Initially I was hoping for a more minor role in the production, as I didn’t feel I had enough knowledge in any particular area to perform at a high standard. I told myself that the only way to improve and learn about something new is to actually give it a try.

Most of the other crew members seemed to know most of the technical aspects surrounding the use of the boom mic, which made it a lot easier to get feedback and advice immediately, whilst we filmed. Some of the feedback included wrapping the cord of the mic around the pole to ensure that it didn’t get in the way of the shot and the people involved in the scene and holding the pole loosely so that it the sound of the cord hitting against the pole wasn’t detectable. I was glad to be able to find out about these tips whilst we filmed, so that we were able to produce a better audio quality for the final product.

The audio quality was obviously significantly better when we used an external mic compared to the camera’s inbuilt mic, however, I think there are still some more improvements I can make when recording audio in the future. I believe the biggest problem with our final audio is the sound of the wind which varies from shot to shot, making the audio slightly jarring at some points. I think by learning how to shield the boom mic better from wind in the future, and investigating any camera settings and editing tricks that can be used to fix this problem will improve my future work.

Overall, I am quite pleased with how our scene turned out, and I think that it shows a significant improvement from the last task we performed and recorded in class. I have included the final cut of our footage that I completed with Dusty and Siobhan below.

I will be performing my analysis on the courtroom scene from A Few Good Men (1992). 

The scene I will be analysing is from the 1992 film, A Few Good Men. Likely the film’s most iconic scene, the interaction takes place within a court room, as Lieutenant Kaffee (Tom Cruise) is questioning Colonel Jessep (Jack Nicholson) about the nature of a Marine’s death at Guantanamo Bay.

The interaction starts with a shot, reverse shot of Kaffee and Jessep. Notably, Kaffee is filmed from a low angle, as the only character visible in frame. Comparatively, Jessep is seen from a higher angle, and the shot is filmed over Kaffee’s shoulder, partially obstructing the frame. The decision to show Kaffee’s shoulder within the shot which focuses on Jessep places the lawyer in a more dominant position to the Colonel, despite the fact that he is a higher ranking officer. During these fist few shots, medium close ups are used to show the rising tension in the room.

It is during these shots that, Jessep’s lawyer, Captain Jack Ross (Kevin Bacon) asks the judge for a recess. Kaffee interjects by commenting “I would like an answer to the question Judge”, and Cruise briefly looks to his right, in the Judge’s direction. The scene then cuts away from the heated interaction for the first time, in order to view the Judge’s answer. As he responds, he look down and to his right, towards Jessep and Kaffee. The scene then cuts to Jessep, who angrily looks up and to his left. Although these brief glances towards the judge from both characters seem minor in their importance, they were likely choreographed by the director (Rob Reiner) to give the viewer a better understanding of the character’s placement in the courtroom, as the prior, tightly framed shots, show little other than the characters themselves.

After this interaction with the Judge, the scene then returns to another shot, reverse shot, from the same medium close up position previously used. When the interaction begins to get more intense, however, Kaffee moves away from the stand and back into the middle of the courtroom. The camera tilts down as Cruise moves away, also capturing Ross objecting, although out of focus, in the background of the shot. The action cuts back and forth from Kaffee in this position to Jessep at the stand, still viewed from a medium close up. When Kaffee declares “I want the truth!”, however, the film cuts back to a close up shot of Jessep, as he states “You can’t handle the truth!”. The top of Nicholson’s head is now out of shot, and the change in shot size increases the significance of Jessep’s outburst.

As Jessep explains his actions, the close up of Nicholson is intercut with progressively tighter shots of Cruise. The initial mid shot of Kaffee in the middle of the courtroom moves to a medium close up and finally a close up whilst cutting back to the close up of Jessep in between. This once again shows Kaffee’s building anger and shock, making the interaction even more heated.

As the scene comes to a close, however, the second last shot of Kaffee retreats back to a mid shot, which tilts up as he moves towards the stand. This repeats the action of the earlier shot in reverse order, and ends as a close up on Cruise’s face as he questions “Did you order the Code Red?”. We then cut back to a high angle of Jessep, who yells, “You’re goddamn right I did!”, before returning to the close up of Kaffee in disbelief. The returning use of the high angle in the last shot of Jessep demonstrates the pressure and intimidation that Jessep was undergoing from Kaffee in the final moments, and the significance of his admission to the crime.

The famous scene may seem quite simply shot on initial viewing, but the use of differing shot sizes to create a tense atmosphere. The small measures taken to ensure the audience of the characters placing within the space help to prevent the audience’s focus from straying from the important dialogue, and isn’t disrupted due to confusing coverage. The director ensures that the 180 degree line is not crossed, and that only integral characters are shown during the interaction. Although we hear Ross desperately objecting to Kaffee’s questioning, as well as see Jessep reference Lieutenant Weinberg during his explanation, these characters are given very minimal screen time, if any. This means that the argument is not detracted from by cutting away to less important characters and their reactions to the scene unfolding.