Typically the way I approach filmmaking is that I have an idea, a piece of content, whether that be a scene, a piece of dialogue, an action, and with that content, I try and think of ways to present that content. This is something that recently I have found more frustrating as I’ve come to the realisation that it should be the other way around; the form, or my own formal ideas, should be the mechanism that informs the content.

Recently I have been thinking about the formal possibilities of cinema. In particular I am keen to experiment with split screen and slow zooms.

Split screen is something that has been on my mind since watching the films of Brian De Palma. It is a tool that if done correctly, can further explore space and its information. I am wrestling with the ‘right’ way to use split screen; I don’t want to use it for the sake of it, and I don’t want to do something boring like show a phone call in each screen. I have been thinking about the idea of cause and effect and think split screen is a way in which this idea can be explored.

Slow zooms have been on my mind since toying with a camcorder. I find the zoom in a camcorder to be particularly smooth; it’s almost like the frame itself breathes in and out. I have some ideas of using slow zooms, like filming walking or a simple action, but again, do not want to use it for the hell of it. 

Our group has come up with the constraint of meeting and working in a designated location. I like the idea of having formal ideas and working with them around a location. I see this as a way that will inform my ideas for content.

I don’t know what my work will look like or end up being. At the moment, I am approaching this project as creating a series of experiments, though this could change as my work and ideas become more refined.

As I naturally overthink every filmic aspect, writing a script that “must be uninteresting” put me in a weird headspace. It was hard to truly embrace that demand; I struggle with letting my biases go and thinking with the expectation of creating something with little or no aesthetic purpose. I thought of the everyday – what is recognisable? Surroundings, questions, interactions. I reflected on my reluctance to talk to strangers, and how I could overcome that fear. From there, I found myself in an imaginary world where I asked a stranger for a cigarette, and let the brief interaction play out in my head. The words then came out on the script with ease, and it was a very honest moment. I tried (and failed) to think about how I would shoot this.

We were thrown into groups, and I was tasked with directing Zayne’s script. I felt ambivalent about shooting someone else’s material. On one hand, I wanted to experiment with my work, and on the other hand, I felt it was a good opportunity to detach myself from what I know. After getting over my ego I thought about how I would shoot the script. The content was strange, but I thought about Truffaut’s “There are no good and bad movies, only good and bad directors” quote, which I wholeheartedly agree with. In the hands of a talented director, anything can be interesting.

I gave the actors a lot of freedom, and we rehearsed how the scene would play out with me giving minor feedback on blocking and timing. I instructed Adrian (the DOP) about the two shots I wanted. The first, a slow zoom out on a tripod, the second, a handheld close-up/mid-shot. Paul didn’t want camera movement, but I felt it changed (for the better) the dynamic of the first shot. I love slow zooms (in & out), and the first shot (to me) is something I’m very happy with. Sure, we caught the boom mic in the shot, it was all very amateur, but it didn’t bother me that much; next time I’ll be sure to not make that mistake again. I was too focussed on the acting and trusted Adrian’s ability. The second shot was perfected in one take, and the cut between the two is, in my opinion, wonderful. It was a smooth shoot; everyone was focussed and it turned out very nice.

I don’t think this was the exercise; trying to make something mundane interesting – but that is how I certainly approached it.

I don’t like shooting at Uni. This is not all a criticism of the Media program, where the hell else are we going to shoot? However, the constant, almost mindless construction is beyond infuriating. So loud, so very very loud. And distracting! We lucked out on our location (the purple and the light made it more lush), but no matter where we went, we were still interrupted by the sounds of the tradesmen. Again, this is not anyone’s fault, but it is incredibly frustrating to work in that environment.

Kerry, Adrian and I were put together in a group, and after looking through the script, it was clear we all had vastly different approaches to how we would shoot the first half of the page.

I wanted to open with an establishing shot, but not a static one. My two ideas were as follows: one, the camera starts with a low angle shot of the sky and building, and tilts down to a wide shot of Lenny stumbling towards the camera. Two, a birds eye shot (from a few levels above) of Lenny turning a corner and stumbling.

We compromised on a version of my first idea. The change was that when the camera had tilted to Lenny (who we agreed would be played by Adrian), he would be walking away with his back turned, rather than towards the camera. At first I didn’t have a problem with this, my point being that I didn’t want to reveal too much information straight away. If you see someone stumbling away, their back turned on the camera, you as the audience want to find out who they are, why they are doing this, etc. It adds a level of intrigue. But on reflection we probably should have (at least) done a version of him stumbling towards the camera, just to compare the power of each image.

We did the shot twice. The second was clearly better, and is the one I have chosen to write about. The shot is okay; the problem is that the tilt is too slow. It is laborious. However, I think the shot is nicely synchronised and has a nice palette (just by chance Adrian was wearing colours that suited the landscape).

We toyed with shooting other shots. Some believe it doesn’t hurt to, but for me personally, I think it does because I find too many options to be overwhelming. To each their own though. We shot a close-up of Lenny’s feet stumbling. I’m personally against close-ups like this, and I find a lot of Uni students like to use it. Again, this is just my personal aesthetic, but I think it’s not particularly interesting, effective as a wide-shot (for stumbling), and it feels like it’s there just because it has to be, if that makes sense. In other words, we as amateur filmmakers think it’s the right thing to do, for no real reason other than we’ve seen it before.

Blow Out (1981) – dir. Brian De Palma
Watching Blow Out is watching a master performing at the peak of his powers. De Palma’s films from the early-to-mid 80’s (Dressed To Kill, Scarface, Body Double) are my favourite because I think this is when he has a true understanding of his aesthetic. The violence is thrilling but just watching each scene unfold is purely intoxicating. The filmmaking is flawless on every level.

Baby Driver (2017) – dir. Edgar Wright
I love the ambition. Wright may struggle to move an audience with his words, but his penchant for the spectacle is something to behold. Baby Driver’s action sequences are some of the most exciting moments of cinema I’ve seen for years. But besides that, there was nothing I really responded to. I found Elgort to be too smug for my liking, and Jamie Foxx literally plays Motherfucker Jones from Horrible Bosses. The script is weak, too many of the jokes fall flat, and the whole rhythmic ideas that Wright tries to impress us with come off as nothing more than a gimmick. Still an enjoyable watch.

Blaise Pascal (1972) – dir. Roberto Rossellini
Random borrow from the library, wholly worth it. Stunning. Easily some of the most incredible blocking and framing I have ever seen. The camera moves with such grace; each angle so very precise but played out with such coolness. Each sequence unfolds with some kind of ambient loop in the background that is haunting, subtle and mesmerising. And it was made for television!

Soldier (1998) – dir. Paul W.S. Anderson
Some pretty inventive camera movement, exciting moments of pure cinema, but ultimately a pretty disposable movie. There’s some interesting editing ideas but all its worst aspects are a distraction. Not as bombastic as the Resident Evil franchise, namely the 6th. Next!

Dunkirk (2017) – dir. Christopher Nolan
There are some truly spectacular moments (the opening sequence for one), but I couldn’t help but find Dunkirk to be largely dull.

I felt Nolan wasn’t able to find the right balance in the way he structured the film. The air sequences didn’t have the same level of urgency as those at land or sea.

Harry Styles can act, but the motivation to cast him felt disingenuous and proved to be more of a distraction than anything else.

The ending was far too Hollywood for my liking (the newspaper article – really?), though I’ll give Nolan the benefit of the doubt as he was probably bound by studio constraints.
– Letterboxd Review

Some additional thoughts:

• More ambition! 70mm, yet there are too many close-ups in the boat and jet.
• Despite its length, it felt long and didn’t have the ‘punch’ I was expecting, and that I’m sure Nolan intended.

A Quiet Passion (2017) – dir. Terence Davies
After watching the lush Sunset Song at MIFF last year, and having the privilege of hearing Davies talk in person, this was something that I’ve been eagerly anticipating. Some of the sequences are magnificent, Davies is still an innovative filmmaker and his formal ideas are executed with grace and precision. It’s hard to not to think about Love & Friendship (which was painful to watch), but this is how you get that right, Whit Stillman. Davies has so much to say about the introspective nature of the artistic process and found Dickinson as his muse. Cynthia Nixon is perfect. Ranks second in my favourites of this year behind Personal Shopper.

Last semester I focussed on observation and approached it in a filmic sense from a D.I.Y perspective. The formula was simple; I shot “what grabbed my attention” on an iPhone. It was about using cinema as a way to capture spontaneity. It was a solo effort and I learned plenty of valuable lessons over the course of the semester. I am satisfied with what I achieved, but I’ve moved on.

I wanted to continue with Paul this semester because I want to refine my filmmaking skills. More than anything, I want to settle on a filmmaking process, an approach, a formula, that I can reliably execute each time I produce work. Paul has certain filmmaking principles to adhere to, and I felt I didn’t take up enough of them last semester. It wasn’t out of neglect, rather it was more that I used the semester to develop the skills by myself, through self-experimentation.

I don’t know how to use an EX3 properly, nor how to best record sound. I want to develop these skills so I can focus more on executing my own formal ideas at a more frequent level.

Basically I want to find out what works, but also what is effective and economical. I feel when you have an understanding of what works, then, and only then, you can develop its possibilities. I want to be innovative and try something that I haven’t done before. What exactly is that? I don’t know – it will be much clearer as the semester goes on.

Is this too much to ask? Am I being unrealistic? Perhaps, but I’m aware, as Paul says, that filmmaking is an endless learning process. But I want to nail down a core, a fundamental idea of technique and a skillset that makes use of it.

I overthink about everything that I write, shoot, and produce. Sometimes it can be a good thing; clarity is gained and I have a rich understanding of how I want approach something. But lately it has become a problem; my productivity has lowered because I’m too trapped in my own mind wrestling the process, the ideas, the purpose of it all. Therefore it was refreshing to start the semester with a project where Paul encouraged us to not overthink, but simply do.

30 (or so) seconds, an action. Lately I’ve been thinking a lot about action, movement, kinetics. When we were assigned this task, I thought back to a quote from Brian De Palma that has always stuck with me:

“Motion pictures are a kinetic art form; you’re dealing with motion and sometimes that can be violent motion. There are very few art forms that let you deal with thing in motion and that’s why Westerns and chases and shoot-outs crop up in film. They require one of the elements intrinsic to film; motion.”

I was home in my room, studied where everything was placed, got out my phone, placed it on a shelf, and hit record.

Every so often I look through my DVD’s and arrange them into categories. Films I want to watch, films I want to watch with my girlfriend, films made by favourite directors, and so on. A lot of time (too much) is spent studying how I’ve ordered them.

I stood there for a bit, looking at the DVD’s. What stands out? What do I want to watch? After 20 or so seconds I took one DVD (48 Hours, Walter Hill) and placed it into my watchlist. I briefly question the decision, but it’s final. Shot over.

I could have done the whole point-of-view, close-up of the DVD’s, close-up of my hands taking a DVD, cut back to my face reacting, etc. But that bores me. I just did what felt right and tried not to think about it.

It wasn’t until we watched our sequences in class that I realised I was happy with what I did. My shot was somewhere in the middle of Paul’s compilation, and the build-up was terrifying. I hate watching my work. But when I watched it, the ego went away. I realised I have developed an aesthetic. It was totally natural, I didn’t have to think about it. I’m at a stage now where I can shoot something on instinct. That’s not to say that it will work every time, but that I can trust myself, and that my first instinct is often my best. I found the one long mid-wide-ish shot worked on a lot of levels, mainly tone and tension. It lacked pretension because it wasn’t trying to be anything.