Was super disappointed that I missed this along with Perceval as a double feature at cinematheque last year (Rohmer’s Period Films Season), in what was honestly a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity to watch them back-to-back, on the giant ACMI screen, in glorious 35mm. It is the biggest regret of my cinema-going life. I was on the train on the way there and just as I arrived at Flinders St, I had bad stomach pain and went home. I should have stuck it out. Watching this on on DVD was clearly not going to be as extraordinary, but it was nonetheless a true cinematic spectacle.

Almendros shoots this with little camera movement; each frame, long in length and controlled in purpose, giving the film a sense of realism as we watch the kinetic motions of the actors. It’s pure cinema. I’m not that familiar with paintings of the Romantic era, but I know that each frame could substitute as a work.

A majority of the scenes (indoor and out) are warmly lit. The film is minimalist in style which suits Almendros’ sensibility of simple lighting setups. Large indoor spaces often rely on sunlight, while outside characters are typically backlit. Practical lights are used, most notably in one early scene at night with a large ensemble moving (I think due to Russian soldiers?) under some sort of large outdoor archway.

Despite this film being noticeably different to other Rohmer/Almendros collaborations (in terms of pacing, framing and style), it’s hard to comment on how/if/why The Marquise Of O represents a shift for the two compared to Rohmer’s Moral Tale films (as I have only seen Claire’s Knee). I need to watch more, perhaps this wasn’t the best film to start with!

Class 1
Myself and Aria were selected to act in a lighting exercise. As I was unable to see the monitor, the points raised by Robin and the class about lighting were often left to my imagination. Robin demanded that the class physically move behind the camera to see what was going on, a valuable point that he has made a few times this semester. It wasn’t until Wednesday’s class that I saw the footage, and each aspect came out quite nicely.

Class 2
Paul gave us a chance to formulate groups and work out how we would approach the rest of the semester. Kerry, Andrew, Adelle and I joined a group out of our shared desire to each create something.

We all have short film ideas and though about this an opportunity to make them. However, the more we talked about it, the less it sounded like a good idea. We have settled on each creating *something* – it could be a shot, a series of shots, a short film, but the main focus is the lighting choices rather than some kind of broad idea or theme. In my opinion, we need to narrow down towards a common set of principles or parameters. To be continued.

“Almendros was an artist of deep integrity, who believed the most beautiful light was natural light…he will always be remembered as a cinematographer of absolute truth…a true master of light” – Rustin Thompson on Nestor Almendros in ‘MovieMaker Magazine’, #29, July 1998

I have watched 2 films that Nestor Almendros has shot, Rohmer’s Claire’s Knee (1970) and Malick’s Days Of Heaven (1978). For the last few years, I have referred to them as “the most beautiful films I’ve ever seen” – and I didn’t even realise they were shot by the same cinematographer until recently.

From what I have gathered, Almendros would approach each shoot with a desire to keep things simple. When shooting outside, he would often use one motivated light source, which was usually the sun. When inside, his lighting decisions were guided by how he thought the sun would light the room. Mirrors were often used to bounce sunlight, while practical light sources such as a candles and lamps were also used. Judging by his methods, Almendros wanted as much control as possible over exposure, which may be a simple thing to say, but the point I’m trying to make is that he has an undeniable belief in his method.

“I believe that what is functional is beautiful, that functional light is beautiful light. I try to make sure that my light is logical rather than aesthetic. In a natural set, I use what light there is, reinforcing it when necessary. In a studio set I imagine that the sun is shining from a certain point outside and I decide how the light would come through the windows. The rest is easy.”

I’m interested in the frequent collaboration between a director and a cinematographer. Besides Rohmer, Almendros worked on several films with Truffaut and some with Robert Benton. It’s a shame Malick didn’t make another film for 20 years (and by that time Nestor had passed) as they could have made some really incredible work in that period.

Class 1
Monday’s class was hectic as a lot was simultaneously going on. New knowledge was introduced, crew members were constantly toying under Robin’s direction, and the frame on the monitor was changing quite frequently. It was a bit hard to keep up with it all.

As I wasn’t assigned a role, I played a more passive role as audience member. I struggle to understand things when I’m not in control and doing them, and I feel I would have got a lot out of the day if I were helping in the camera or lighting department.

It was not a useless class though – I found great beauty in what was being achieved, and if nothing else, the peg ‘trick’ (not to demean) was a real eye-opener and something that I will use in future work.

Class 2
The ‘final’ project is always something that’s on my mind, and Wednesday’s class was the first time we discussed it as a unit. I liked how we each had an opportunity to share what we wanted to do with the remaining weeks, rather than having something fixed (even though I’m sure it would have been interesting and useful). I talked about my desire to create something personal – obviously involving other people but the content itself would be my creation. I am always thinking this way, though this time the feeling is stronger due to my frustration with the wider Media program, and how (I think) I don’t have a lot to show in terms of work. Looking back, this is probably not the best reason for creating something. I was surprised with how many people wanted to shoot some generic script, or replicate an existing film scene. I see the value, but I feel it’s something we have done and we should be more focussed on developing our own aesthetic, and how lighting works within that frame.

There was a wonderful period in my life 3 years ago where I had access to all of the Criterion films through a streaming service (sadly, this service no longer exists). It was here that I was first exposed to Truffaut, Rohmer, and in the spirit of selecting random European directors, Bergman. I watched two of his films – Wild Strawberries (I was drunk on whiskey at 1AM, it was spectacular), and a week or so later, Dreams, one of his lesser known works. Looking back, I have no idea why I didn’t watch more of his work. His sensibility greatly resonated with me. You could also see his influence in Woody Allen’s films, most notably Interiors which along with Husbands and Wives are, in my opinion, his best films.

The above thoughts occurred during and after the Sven Nyqvist reading, which, ultimately, I found to be totally fascinating. Nyqvist didn’t shoot either of the Bergman films I have seen, but this reading was a reminder to see how they collaborated with one another.

What I most admire about Nyqvist and Bergman is that they totally lack the pretension or the over-intellectualism that (some) filmmakers and theorists like to indulge in. Their love for cinema comes from a pure, emotional state.

“My parents were missionaries in the Congo and one of my very early memories is of looking at images from Africa captured on a wind-up film camera.  They showed African men building a church with my father, and the captivated me.  Later, when my parents returned to Africa, I was sent to live with my aunt and she gave me my first stills camera.  Apart from photography, I also loved sport as a boy.  When I was 16, I worked as a newspaper delivery boy in order to earn the money to buy a Keystone 8mm camera, which I could use to film the athletes in slow motion during a  competition in order to understand a new high-jump technique being used by American athletes to improve their scores.  That experience got me interested in shooting film, but my parents didn’t want me to go into the cinema because, to them, it was sinful.”

A year ago I bought a book about Ingmar Bergman’s Wild Strawberries, which is essentially the script and photography. It begins with a chapter ‘Bergman discusses film-making’ where he, like Nyqvist, details his initial cinematic discoveries.

“My association with film goes back to the world of childhood. My grandmother had a very large old apartment in Uppsala. I used to sit under the dining room table there, “listening” to the sunshine that came in through the gigantic window. The bells of the cathedral went ding dong, and the sunlight moved about and “sounded” in a special way. One day, when winter was giving way to spring and I was 5 years old, a piano was being played in the next apartment. It played waltzes, nothing but waltzes. On the wall hung a large picture of Venice. As the sunlight moved across the picture, the water in the canal began to flow, the pigeons flew up from the square, gesticulating people were engaged in inaudible conversation. Bells sounded, not from Uppsala Cathedral, but from the picture itself. And the piano music also came from that remarkable picture of Venice.”

I can see why they worked together…

Week Three Reflection – http://www.mediafactory.org.au/ryan-rosenberg/2018/03/16/film-light-week-3-reflection/

Week Four Reflection – http://www.mediafactory.org.au/ryan-rosenberg/2018/03/21/film-light-week-4-reflection/

Scene Analysis – http://www.mediafactory.org.au/ryan-rosenberg/2018/03/22/film-light-analysis/

General Post – http://www.mediafactory.org.au/ryan-rosenberg/2018/03/25/film-light-general-thoughts/

During the shooting of a short film Adelle, Kerry, Max, Andrew and I worked on last Wednesday, I was reminded of a few things. Firstly, that time is money. I have been on a few different sets and it’s not until you get firsthand experience that you truly understand how crucial time management is. We allocated about 3 hours (3PM-6PM) to shoot and ended up finishing around 7PM. This wasn’t a problem as I didn’t have to be anywhere, but I thought too much time was spent getting the right ‘image’ in terms of frame, colour temperature, contrast, lens, etc. Which brings me to my second point.

Andrew and I had a chat about how becoming too knowledgable about camera’s can be a problem. Too much time is spent perfecting small elements, and less time is given truly thinking about the cinema of it all. Perhaps this is a wholly ignorant point of view, but that’s why I felt the need to write about it.

My approach to filmmaking has never come from a ‘technical’ approach, purely in terms of the camera settings. I like spontaneity, imperfection, ambition, and these things can be held back when too much time is spent obsessing over minute differences. The filmmaking process, or my own, should be spiritual, not contrived. This is not to say that the camera, or all settings should be ignored; that is not at all where I am coming from. I am merely suggesting that for me, personally, I feel I can often achieve my aesthetic without a nuanced understanding of the camera.

I think back to a short film I shot last year on a camcorder. It was located at a cemetery, there was one actor (Kerry) and I had no idea what the film was, what it would look like, etc. All this came by instinct; placing the tripod somewhere, directing Kerry to perform some kind of action, getting the camcorder out and hitting record straight away. There was one particular shot that went for about 30 seconds, and between each take (we probably did about 15) I only spent about 30 seconds thinking how I could improve the shot. It has been the most fulfilling filmmaking experience to date.

Of course this brings out other questions, such as working on a budget, or with a bigger crew. I guess what I’m trying to articulate is that I’m not interested in working in the orthodox way.

I haven’t really thought this out properly as the feelings/ideas are new but I will return when I have inevitably thought a bit more deeply about this. I should also say that I do want to understand the basic principles of camera operation. Robin, as a cinematographer, I hope you’re not cringing when you read this!

Knock Knock (2015) – Eli Roth

First, let me outline the story before I deconstruct the shot. Evan (Keanu Reeves) is unable to join his wife and two kids for a Father’s Day weekend trip as he is tied up with work. While working on a rainy night, Evan hears a series of strange noises which puts him on guard. He gets back to work but hears a knock on the door. He answers.

The first 5 seconds are brilliantly paced. The door slowly opens and bam, our two villains appear. When the camera does a reverse shot to Evan, he can’t believe his luck. So much of Roth’s work is about deception; lulling you into something that seems right, normal, too good to be true (The Hostel movies and The Green Inferno come to mind), when really, you don’t know what you’re about to get yourself into. Having two beautiful young women appear at your door, deliberately soaking wet, is the everyday fantasy of the middle-aged man. But the fantasy is our nightmare. There is no escape from our desires; we are human and act on impulse. We have no control.

It takes the girls a minute or so to trick Evan into letting them into his house. Their conversation resembles B-grade porn; Evan tells the girls “I’m sorry, but I can’t help you” with such impotence that he’s practically telling the girls to beg him for his almighty help. Roth’s self-awareness pulls this exchange off with sublime grace.

The porn continues with Roth seducing us with a shot of the women crouched down, taking their clothes off because they “wouldn’t want to mess up the house”. Evan’s crotch is deliberately left in the frame. The girls continue their play-dumb act and we buy it, because we want to buy it. We want to believe the fantasy, to play the game. One of the girls is wearing a shirt that says in capital letters ‘IT WAS ALL A DREAM’  for heavens sake.

The first clue that something wrong is about to happen begins when the camera follows Evan as he gets the two drenched girls some ‘towels’ (excuse the irony). Antonio Quercia’s cinematography in this film is incredible because it encapsulates everything Roth wants to say about his core themes, and gives the film mood. Evan walks down a narrow corridor and we see photos of his family on the wall. Any hesitation or anxiety that may be building is shut down when one of the girls says “Nice house!”, just to remind us to keep playing the game. We continue to follow before the camera stops at Evan opening the door and gathering the towels. The lighting in this moment (but also the entire film) is remarkable, almost Hitchcockian in the way it creates tension through the mere angle of the blinds. Evan collects the towels and keeps moving, and the moment he turns to walk back down the corridor, the women are no longer seen. For a split second, we become worried, before we are reassured that they are just in another room because it is “warmer”. The girls apologise for the hassle to keep nice, and Evan tells them “don’t worry about it, make yourselves at home”. And so they do.

The two aspects that bring atmosphere to the sequence are the location (family house) and the sounds of the rain. We associate our homes with safety, but Evan is anything but safe. As for the rain, it works on a number of levels. The ironic aspect (being ‘wet’ and all), its gloomy nature and the sound itself brings suspense because it doesn’t tell us how to feel like music would; it’s all up the air (literally).

In November/December of last year, I AC’d on a feature film that my friend was directing. The pick-ups day was a few weeks ago, and in the lead up to the shoot I was scheduled to AC once again, which was fine (and obviously expected), but didn’t really provide me with any excitement. About 2 days before the shoot the director told me that the boom/sound recordist had injured his shoulder and was unable to perform his duty. As he didn’t want to spend money on hiring a professional, I was offered the role despite having close to zero experience, which I accepted. I learned everything on the spot, and was surprised with how much enthusiasm I had for the role. I have been itching to do boom work again, and as Kerry/Max showed greater eagerness for directing (which is my preferred role), I jumped at the opportunity to do sound for this exercise. However, I was more preoccupied with operating the boom pole (which was broken), my observation of the lighting for this exercise was somewhat limited. So please note that I’m more reflecting on the result of the footage, rather than my thoughts on the actual shoot.

Shoot #1
We had some technical difficulties in the lead up to the blocking (sound + camera) which gave us about 10 minutes to shoot everything.

I really like the level of exposure; it enhances a defined patterned symmetry of the lines on Kerry’s shirt in the foreground and the bricks in the background. This is a ultimately shot of lines – along with the shirt and the bricks it is Kerry’s sunglasses, the tree, the pavement, the shadow on the ground, how Lydia and Andrew are standing upright. It’s really nice to look at and as an establishing shot, it succeeds its purpose of drawing you in.

I think this shot is too overexposed. Andrew’s white shirt has lost its information and it’s somewhat of a distraction. There is too much shadow on Lydia; as an exercise it’s fine but in a ‘real’ shoot, would look contrived.

Shoot #2
Kerry directed this, and before we started shooting discussed the opening establishment shot. We agreed that a POV shot out the window was most appropriate – Kerry opted for a slow pan whereas I preferred a slow zoom in (a shot that I’m practically obsessed with). We both had a go at operating the camera and trying our particular way. I struggled to manually zoom and decided to try the auto zoom. I am usually okay but on this occasion found it way too sensitive to get any consistency. The irony is that, in my opinion, a camcorder performs this function more smoothy! The first shot below is Kerry’s pan.

Slow zoom, slow pan; little differences but ultimately provides a similar atmosphere.

I think the blocking of this shot is pretty messy, and not nice to look at. I think the light that we bounced onto Lydia is subtle, but the overexposed light from the window distracts us from this.

The soft light that hits the side of Andrew’s face is at a decent level, though I think the frame is a bit too tight on him.

While we would have all obviously benefitted from serious planning of each shot, acting on instinct and without a lot of time made this a worthwhile experiment. I would have liked to have had a go at directing/camera, but understand that time constraints make this difficult.

Depth Of Field Exercise

I partnered with Kerry and we went to this empty corridor(?) outside the Building 13 theatre to do the exercise.

This was an exercise that I think I really struggled with. I find depth of field, or moreso the ingredients that make it up quite confusing. Not that it’s a lot to remember, but that it’s hard for me to translate the theory into the practice of getting a camera out and trying and execute it. My lack of camera technique/understanding was clearly exposed and it’s something I really need to work on.

I wasn’t really certain of what I shooting on the camera, and this would show in the final product. Even if it wasn’t glaringly obvious, I know that I can’t cheat my way out of these things.