At the end of the semester, looking back, it seems apparent that Translating Observation was probably not the best subject for me. I suspected it from the beginning, but there was no other studio that really appealed to me either. This doesn’t mean that I didn’t enjoy many aspects of the subject, nor does it mean I went away empty handed, without learning anything. It simply means that it made it harder for me to involve myself in the subject and really strive to do well.

I’m getting all of this stuff out of the way early not as an excuse, but simply because I find it easier to get all of the more negatively framed stuff over and done with now. I wasn’t engaged in a lot of the practical tasks in class, perhaps because they tended to be drastically similar to the ones I undertook last semester, and writing up observations I’d made into posts definitely isn’t my style. A lot of these issues are personal – lots of people I spoke to in the class thoroughly enjoyed the very things that I wasn’t particularly interested in.

With all that said, it eventually comes down to my choice to take the subject – I’m not criticising Robin and his great work, but somewhat expressing regret at the choice. By this stage of the post, it reads like I had the worst few months of my life. This actually isn’t the case – for all the things about Translating Observation that didn’t click with me, I learnt a lot and found it a brilliant platform for discussion and expanding my horizons.

The parts of class I consistently enjoyed were the times when everyone would share their observations. It’s so great to hear other people talk about what they see and notice. Everyone picks up on distinct and unique things, so when a whole class full of different people share their stories, there are always so many different ones – some are funny, some are sad, and all of them make me think about the person who’s noticed them and why that particular moment stuck out to them. Not in a psychoanalysis way, just in the sense that most of everyone else’s observations wouldn’t have even occurred to me as strange or even interesting, so having the unique perspectives demonstrate how they observe the world is a brilliant experience.

It was for this reason that I really wanted to work on someone else’s observation. I usually really enjoy carrying out my own ideas with a team and seeing them visualised, but this class made me more aware of and interested in ideas of other people. It seems odd, but because I was always so keen to listen to people share their ideas, I felt far more obliged to create theirs than my own. I was never particularly interested in my own observations – partly because I wasn’t accustomed to having to write them up and concern myself with them, and partly because I observe things every day – I’m used to my own thoughts and awareness.

I’m not sure if I’m entirely happy with the final product of our film. The direction of it got changed and rearranged a lot, and I don’t think anyone in the group was ever completely aware of what was actually going on with it. There were countless discussions about what it was about, and what we were going to do next with it, but for every talk we had about what to do with the film, it just seemed to get more confusing. I think that the individual scenes and ideas are very interesting and well made, but I feel like overall the film is missing a piece or two to become complete. This happens. It was an ambitious project, so I didn’t expect to create a perfectly well rounded and flawless film. I’m happy to have been part of a group that tried something different. My only objective complaint is that I don’t feel input in the group was balanced, and some voices were louder than others, which I think resulted in the muddiness of the finished product.

I don’t regret taking Translating Observation. While as a subject, it wasn’t really as suited to me as some others, I did enjoy it and I learnt a lot about observing, collaboration, and filmmaking. I think the subject is good in general, but I don’t think it’s my cup of tea.

Shooting the scene with Jenny was very strange. There were a bunch of issues I had with it. I don’t really feel like it worked in the end.

The scene, in a nutshell, is shot from two perspectives. One of them is a mid shot on a video camera, and the other is from a front camera on a smart phone, held by the actor. I was in charge of using the camera. I set up my frame and did several run throughs with Jenny, making sure I had good focus and was able to follow her movement. I really liked the lighting in the scene, and the shadows it cast on her face. When it was time to shoot the scene for real, Alaine came over to the camera, picked it up, and moved it back a few metres. This was apparently where we were shooting from now. I wasn’t pleased with this because it reduced the impact of the shot which I’d set up, and, in a word, looked ugly. There was a lot of clutter in the background now visible which I’d removed by framing Jenny against a solely black background. Anyway – I’m not trying to complain in depth, I just wasn’t happy with the lack of respect for my position.

This leads into my second issue, which is the apparent double standard – since others were flexible in their roles and trying to do my job, I assumed the whole process was collaborative, and so tried to improve Jenny’s acting, as it really wasn’t the best. This wasn’t received because I ‘wasn’t the director.’

I don’t think the shoot went well. This isn’t simply because I didn’t get things my way, but because there were several glaring problems from the get-go that simply weren’t addressed. I can’t imagine the scene being strong in the final product.

At least halfway through the shooting and production of the final film, I still don’t really know what it’s about. As far as I understood, it was a piece about phones and technology and their almost deified position in society, but every week more and more elements are being added and I don’t completely understand the direction that the film is taking.

With that in mind, I’m just in charge of operating the camera, so I’m not too concerned about the new developments. I’m still confident I can shoot the individual scenes well. The first shoot was quite successful, despite some technical difficulties. By this I mean we were only able to secure Nikon cameras, which I didn’t know how to use. We fiddled around for a while, though, and eventually I learnt enough to shoot the simple scenes we were doing.

I’m really pleased with some of the shots we got. The lenses we used were really nice and allowed for some extreme close up shots of Alaine’s dog, who was, by and large, a fantastic actor. Some of the shots of her crunching on the bone were really satisfying and I’m sure will make a great effect in the finished product.

The reflection:

In a crowded Safeway, a young employee is being told how to restock shelves. He looks unsure and as though he needs to run through it another time, but his manager leaves him alone. He has a box of jars of pasta sauce, and as he opens it up and reaches in to grab some, he drops the box and several of the jars shatter.

He looks mortified, he glances around to see if anyone has witnessed his spillage, and he sees me. I give him my best sympathetic face and he looks ready to cry. Ironically, I was going to get some pasta sauce but I’m now too embarrassed. I move on to the next aisle and I hear the PA system announcing that there is broken glass on aisle 3.

The Film:

I imagine a short film of this following the employee who dropped the sauce. I can picture him being a very clumsy boy who trips over and drops his things, but is thrilled to get his first job. Even though he’s nervous, he tries his best and has been doing well. He’s had a bad day but he’s only got 10 minutes left of his shift. Just as he’s completing his last task, he drops the sauce. We stay with him and watch his reaction to the tragedy.

The film would be around 3-4 minutes, and shot in a ‘clean’ way. I think it would be a simplistic film, with a basic plot. This is because I don’t want it to make it about too much, rather a small character study with only one really pivotal event and the subsequent reaction from the character. The rest of the film would simply be setting up for this moment, as I think it is a quite effective and moving observation.

A film idea based on my observation in Sydney on a ferry.

It wouldn’t be a literal adaptation for several reasons. Primarily, it’s impractical. Secondarily, there are plenty of films already where teenagers stay out all night and then reflect and philosophise as the sun rises. I’m very interested in the dynamic between the hectic nature of the events which precede it, and the calm and reflective moments after.

My idea for a film is as follows. A party scene for maybe two minutes, but not one following characters talking about which girls they wanna sleep with or how much they’ve had to drink, rather a fast paced and interpretive representation of a party. Sensory overload probably isn’t the right word, but jarring and very hard to grip might be closer. Music, lights, flashes of faces, maybe enough to get familiar with them, but not enough to really know them.

After the party scene, we depart, just as rapidly, maybe with characters or maybe without, but it doesn’t matter. After a brief transitory scene we arrive at a beach as the sun comes up. I think this part can be shot with and without people. It doesn’t have to include characters, I think it would function appropriately with or without people.

After the transition from party to peace, the shots will become longer and slower and the camera will move less. I’ll use a longer focal length in the first half and wider focal lengths in the second, to help illustrate the contrast between the two parts. The soundtrack would similarly reflect this, a more peaceful score for the scene set at the beach, and not quite party tunes but maybe some noise-ish music for the first part.

After a relentless, tiring, and exhilarating weekend in Sydney, I realised it was drawing to a close. It was late Sunday night or early Monday morning, whichever you prefer. Around 6am, in any case. As our semi official ‘business’ (playing competitive video games) for the weekend had drawn to a close, we’d decided to stay out all night. We had, however, sadly and stupidly forgotten about Sydney’s lockout laws, which led us to very tiredly and somewhat drunkenly wandering around, lost. Our phones were long dead.

As we found water the sun began to rise. While half an hour ago we were all mucking around and yelling at one another, we sobered up, both literally and in spirit. We were silent, all presumably in reflection of both the night and the weekend. I was, at least, and I hope everyone else was. After getting more lost we boarded a ferry. We went to the top deck, at the front, and looked out on the water. It felt very nice. I wasn’t really thinking a great deal apart from how happy and lucky I was and how gorgeous Sydney Harbour is. It felt very nice to be so tranquil and at peace and with friends after an exhausting few days.

Observation:

In front of the State Library on a sunny day, the grass crowded with young, hip trendsetters and old people smoking incessantly, a couple walks past. They are not holding hands, nor does one of them have their arm around the other. Instead they are hugging each other tightly with both arms, creating a siamese twin perpetually in danger of stumbling over its own feet. Maybe they are so in love that they cannot bear to let each other go even the slightest bit. Or perhaps this is their last hour together before one of them jumps on a plane to France for a year. Will they maintain the relationship long distance, or will it fizzle out? Perhaps they both secretly are seeing someone else, and so hold each other tight in an overcompensation for their infidelity. These are all possibilities. Truly, I think they are just happy to be together, and are willing to sacrifice a portion of their mobility to be very close to each other.

The film:

Cheesy. Could probably be a short 2-3 minute deal of them walking through the city, stuck to each other like glue. However, when I think about it, I can’t picture this couple in a film I’d want to watch. Maybe this is an indicator that it’s not a film I should make. I like seeing them walk past clumsily, but I’m not sure if the type of people to walk like that are the type of people I’m really interested in writing about. If my penultimate presumption was the case, and they were cheating on each other, this observation could be a scene in a longer film, which details their affairs.

The observation:

I was on my way home on a Friday night in Sydney. I got off at a crowded train station, filled with young people ready to go out for the night. Through the crowd, to the side, I saw two boys around 18-19 getting spoken to rather intensely by police. A sniffer dog was rubbing his head around their feet and legs enthusiastically. The boys looked very sad.

I have no idea whether or not the pair had actually done anything wrong, and were upset at being caught, or were innocent and sad because of the stress they were enduring. The main thing that stuck out to me about the situation was the calmness of their little secluded area. Through the thick crowd of people, they had to themselves a sizeable piece of space, undisturbed. Other sniffer dogs and police officers patrolled the station but they too kept their distance. The pair seemed unaffected by the noise and activity all around, and attentive only to their immediate situation.

The film:

This observation would be the basis for a scene in a longer film. This is because I’m not interested in the plot, i.e. how they got into the situation or what they were talking about, but rather the contrast in environment in created. They were being ignored by everyone, perhaps out of politeness or perhaps because nobody cared, so it seems like they would fit in well in the background of a film. Perhaps some characters could have a short conversation about them, or the scene could be shot in a location that emphasises the contrast even more.

Our group was given the task of shooting two very different scenes. They were almost as different as it was possible for them to be. One was a single take, with three characters and a camera moving fluidly and continuously throughout, and the other was a scene with lots of different angles and shots, with little movement apart from a few very deliberate actions.

I directed the scene from Kurosawa’s High and Low. I actually intended to try the other one, as the style of the scene is similar to pieces I’ve shot in the past and I wanted to try making something different, but someone else claimed the other one before me. Because I have experience shooting long takes with camera and actor movement, I actually found my experience as an actor on the other piece more revealing.

Particularly interesting was how Ryan dealt with the challenge of collecting a large number of shots in a relatively short time. He directed the scene well in that he chose to shoot each individual shot in a sequence that made sense, moving the camera as little as possible in between shots. My instinct in shooting scenes tends to be making them sequentially, and despite being told to shoot scenes in a logical order, I always forget. Seeing it in action was very helpful and going forward, when I’m pressed for time and need to gather a bunch of shots, I’ll look back to this experience.