I’m glad we did a shoot with everyone in the class having a unique role assigned to them. Before this we’d had only small groups of below 10, but having around 15 people made it a completely different experience. Even though I was a lowly extra, it was super informative to watch everyone work in their own roles – having people to focus on continuity, a 2nd AD, camera assistant, these were all roles we didn’t usually have the luxury of.

In a way I’m glad that I didn’t really have a pivotal role, because I was able to observe what was going on. I feel like if I was the AD or camera operator, I would have been too busy trying to do my role that I wouldn’t have been able to get a scope of how everyone was running. But, as it was, since I was pretty much irrelevant for most of the shoot, I busied myself with taking notes on the rushes we got and watching how the different departments interacted.

In our smaller crews, we’d always been essentially one team working together, but when you get departments of 3 or so people each the become separate sub-teams, so that you don’t have 6 people working together on one scene but 2 people working on sound, 3 on the camera, the director working with the actors and the AD trying to get them to all co-ordinate.

Mainly it was a very good insight. I trust Robin in his saying that the problems we faced were representative of the everyday problems on a real shoot. I was really glad to have his input on the shoot, because usually we’ll be left to our own devices and no one is experienced enough to deal with the issues that arise.

Wong Kar Wai’s In the Mood for Love is one of my favourite films, and this is one of my favourite scenes from it.

While technically it’s a conjunction of scenes and takes place over most likely a few days, I think it’s appropriate to look at it as a single scene. The romantic nature of the entire film, that seems to permeate every scene, is very noticeable throughout this short montage.

The main thing that seems to stand out to me in this scene is the cinematography. It’s stunningly shot, and Christopher Doyle uses lights and colours to beautiful effect. The shallow depth of field creates a striking crispness around the characters in the centre, and places them at the front of the audience’s attention. I think this technique, with everything else soft, offers a sense of intimacy to the scene. Often the prominent colours in the shots are blurred due to the depth of field being so shallow, and as they blur they seem to fade into one another and create a very picturesque frame.

The score of the scene also struck me as very charming and romantic. There’s something about the song that seems to swell and sooth, and it functions perfectly with the slow motion tracking shots that define the scene. The lighting is another aspect that really interests me. The hanging lights around the noodle vendor become a motif – apart from them, there’s very little light. They’re expertly placed within the frame in every shot they’re in, always enhancing the quality of the shot. And while it’s expertly crafted technically from all the crew members behind the scene, there’s something impressive about the conception of it all.

The fact that this ‘scene’ is in reality comprised of several smaller scenes is noteworthy, because it changes the meaning. If it was covered as one straightforward, single scene, I don’t think it would be as powerful in creating its atmosphere. The fact that we see Su leave the food market multiple times, and that she’s seen in multiple dresses means that it’s a repetitive thing for her. This is perhaps emphasised by the repetitive shots, consistently framing her in the same way and focussing on the same parts of her journey – her ascent/descent of the stairs, her thermos, the lights.

Coverage becomes more complex and twisted when the scene isn’t a straightforward one. In this sense, the coverage doesn’t really have to convey a plot, but it creates an atmosphere, not only in this scene, but over the course of the whole film. In the ‘traditional’ sense of the term (if that even exists), a scene’s coverage is designed to tell a story, and facilitates that first and foremost. But when there is very small amount of plot to tell in a scene, the coverage can become more experimental, which is the case here. All of its elements contribute to a real sense of romance, which culminates in the final shot, where the two characters featured in the scene pass each other closely on the stairway. That’s what really interests me about the scene: the fact that it’s entirely an atmospheric piece, with only one shot contributing even the tiniest part to the plot. Films with no real narrative, so to speak, that still manage to generate real emotion through other elements, I will always respect.

The entire film strikes me as carefully planned and covered. Most scenes are covered very intricately and delicately, and this one is no exception. The slow motion and long cuts are spellbinding, and the way that Kar Wai creates a scene to revel in an atmosphere to add to the final moment, the ‘corridor glance’ is exceptional.

After spending two hours trying to make a mixer do what we wanted it to, we had to shoot a scene. It was a pretty simple scene with only one line of dialogue. Since we’d watched clips from a number of films which made use of long takes with dynamic camera work, Meg suggested we cover the scene in a single shot. We all agreed, because the scene did seem like a simple one (and also because we only had 20 minutes to shoot in). The biggest issue was, ironically, the sound. After working all day with mixers until we were eventually relatively proficient in handling them, we chose to shoot in a room with a super high ceiling that meant the sound was very echoey. It sounded interesting, but I’m not sure if it’s necessarily what we were after.

The process of shooting itself was also a bit different. Meg, as director, chose to cover the scene in a single shot but a lot of the framing and blocking was done by myself and Justin, who was operating the mixer. That’s why I have my feet on the wall. But I guess overall it might be better to practise having more stable and concrete roles when we do these small shoots, because otherwise we’re totally liable to rock up on a proper set and have the sound guys try to tell us how to frame our shots.

Last week we shot a scene about two people on a train. It was a really interesting shoot because of how differently everyone read into the script. While our group instilled our version of the scene with an odd and palpable tension, the other group leant towards a more comical and lighthearted approach. It emphasised the fact that the same script in a different director’s hands will produce an entirely different scene. And while the director’s choices of shots and the cinematographer’s camerawork affects this, a hugely important and often overlooked element of coverage is editing.

Rob and I worked on an edit of our group’s scene together. We made the piece quite heavy on the tension, through our lingering shots and longer, slower edits. The other pairs who created edits of the scene only used two close ups, but Rob and I added in one more reverse shot so the cold stare down at the end became very intense and lingering. It’s astonishing how simple it is – just let a shot run for an extra couple of seconds rather than trimming it down, and it imbues the scene with a completely different tone. Other groups who cut up the shots quicker still had a trace of the tension, but it wasn’t quite as palpable.

While the other shooting group’s rushes were more inherently lighthearted, the same divide was apparent in their separate edits as well. Vera created an almost YouTube poop-esque scene, which was hilarious due to its abandonment of the realism that everyone else had tried to create with their cuts. She used the same clips multiple times in a row, played clips in reverse briefly, and played up the slapstick acting in the scene, to create something which nobody else even thought to do.

This is one of the first scenes in Peter Weir’s classic film, the scene of the titular picnic. It’s shot beautifully and provides the basis for the rest of the film, to a large degree. It contains plenty of references to things that will happen later in the film, that may or may not be relevant to the mystery at the heart of story.

In this scene Weir captures the beauty and the scope of the Australian landscape, a theme which is central to the film. His shots consistently frame the characters against a vivid backdrop, and in more than one instance they appear to be entirely consumed by the landscape they’re in. A panning shot across a large group of schoolgirls is accentuated by shrubs and plants, out of focus, in the foreground. The sound of insects permeates the scene and becomes white noise of the bush.

A wide shot shows the schoolgirls and chaperones in the shadow against a large rock, with a beam of light shining straight down the middle of the group. This shot is juxtaposed with a short montage of extreme close ups of ants, similarly scaled in regard to their background – just as the college cohort are dwarfed by the landscape, the ants appear tiny against a cake. These close ups progress the ongoing motif of the power of nature, and serve as an interesting way to cover the scene.

Weir’s placement of character within the frame throughout the scene is interesting. The long, moving shot, which pans through all the girls, one or two at a time, establishes their positioning in a linear manner. A wide shot later in the scene, shows them as more spread out. Characters in the foreground and background are important. As Marion asks permission to journey to the rock, Miranda lingers in the foreground, listening. She remains in the frame after the others have exited it, and as such gains a sense of importance. After Mademoiselle waves goodbye to Miranda, and watches her walk away, the shot pans to include Ms. McCraw, whose stern countenance contrasts Mademoiselle’s wonder and adoration.

Since the scene does not take place indoors, the coverage becomes far more complex. Weir alternates between long shots, mid shots, and close ups throughout the scene. He often elects to switch to a close up to highlight the importance of a certain action, such as Miranda waving goodbye before following the others.

Towards the end of the scene, the score becomes more prominent as the girls disappear into the bush. The lower half of the frame is occupied by thick bush, so as the girls wander off, they become more and more obscured by the plants. This ominously concludes the scene, and epitomises its themes.

Over the course of the semester, I want to try to shoot my scenes more creatively and experimentally – I want to be able to get my coverage in an interesting and unique way that looks good. While some scenes will only require simple coverage, I think it’d be great to really test myself in how I shoot them. Directors I admire, like Wong Kar Wai, Paul Thomas Anderson, Robert Altman, all seem to be able to be exceedingly creative and visually stunning while still shooting a simple scene in a simple manner. Although I probably won’t have the budget or equipment that these directors all have access to, I think I can work within those bounds to create something that looks really impressive.

I’m also interested in long takes in film. I’ve always found them really beautiful, fascinating and impressive, but now I’m studying filmmaking myself I’d love to think about when and where they’re appropriate, what makes them work, and especially the technical aspects. Emmanuel Lubeszki is making long takes extremely fashionable in Hollywood right now, with three best cinematography Oscars in a row, all for films that cut sparsely and make great use of a shot’s length. Darting back to the first Reilly reading, where he introduces us to coverage, he stresses the immense technical difficulty of a ‘moving master’ (and also touches on it again in the following reading). He explains that on a professional set, lighting cues, acting cues, camera cues and more must all be hit flawlessly for one of these shots to work. Having only made short student films with a skeleton crew and minimal lighting, any long takes I’ve done have been nowhere near this challenging, so I’m sure if I get too ambitious I’ll be in for a rude shock when I need 20 people on set to carry around a giant light.

The readings we were assigned by Tom Reilly interested me – you rarely hear a lot about/from assistant directors, but it’s a completely different perspective on shooting a film. The first thing that Reilly said that stuck out to me was when he noted that filmmaking was like engineering – constructing one, complex piece (a film) out of many smaller pieces (the shots/frames). This made me think about the part editing plays in the filmmaking process, even as early on as pre production and production. While it clearly must be considered, suggesting that it’s as important as anything else at that stage fascinated me. I agree that there does need to be a vision from the director about how scenes are going to be strung together, but does that then undermine the editor’s artistry and reduce him to performing an entirely technical role? I’m not sure.

The next Reilly reading was jarring to me. He contended, over the course of a chapter, that actors should not have a role in blocking a film – as he says, ‘actors should act, directors should block.’ And he did contend it well. He put forward some very valid points, especially from the perspective of an AD. He made me think about how complex the blocking of a scene can be on a professional film set. The story of the blocking in Glengarry Glen Ross detailed the process really well. The main point he made that impressed me was that if a director is to allow actors to block a scene, he or she is subtly relinquishing control over the finished product. This I agree with, but it made me think about how important it is to have strict control over every facet of a film vs how important it is to make a film organically and artistically. From my perspective, getting actors to help with blocking makes the process more dynamic and natural. It’s not really my place to say if one way is better, but it struck me as too clinical a way to view art.

I’ve been really impressed immediately by The Scene in Cinema so far. The theoretical discussions surrounding what makes a scene a scene, what determines coverage, what makes coverage work, have all been really interesting, and supplemented beautifully by all the practical work we’ve been doing. It’s super refreshing to go into a new class and shoot something just about every lesson, and I think at this stage of studying it’s really helpful to have that process of trial and error. Just noticing small things like head space and kind of lax framing all add up and if you can consistently notice small things like that I think that’s the first step to being able to shoot scenes well.

Each time we get the cameras out I notice a new feature, new button, better way to set it up, etc. And when shooting, since it’s usually group work, it’s great to hear everyone’s opinions on how they think a scene should be covered. Usually having plenty of opinions doesn’t result in a debate but in a compromise that ends up being better for the scene overall.

At the rate I’m learning and noticing stuff, by the end really my main goal is (duh) to be able to shoot a scene efficiently, professionally, and creatively. I’d also love to be able to apply a deeper understanding to scenes as I watch them, and note to myself the coverage, shot selection etc to a greater level. When watching a film I can make note of things shot choices editing, but I think it’d be great to be able to bring it all together and analyse the coverage of a scene as I’m watching it. The way Robin’s able to discuss a scene so well and succinctly is hugely impressive, and if I could recognise half the things he does by the end of the semester I’d consider the subject a success.