http://www.ce-review.org/00/39/kinoeye39_halligan.html

• “Eisenstein makes thought into a despot: it leaves no “air,” nothing of that unspoken elusiveness which is perhaps the most captivating quality of all art…”
  – Tarkovsky on Sergei Eisenstein’s pioneering theory and practise of montage editing
• “Art can never have the interplay of concepts as its ultimate goal. The image is tied to the concrete and the material, yet reaches out along mysterious paths to regions beyond the spirit…”
  – Tarkovsky regarding the notion of the ‘third image’ that one conceptualises when consuming a sequence of shots and ordering them to conceive meaning
• “The speed of the tracking is of the utmost importance here; its slowness strips the camera movement of a narrative function, since the camera movement does not advance the narrative progression of the film in this long take … Having removed it from the context of the film’s narrative, it reworks it as a meditative, perhaps hallucinatory, swell of mobile imagery … It is an existential moment in the film and an equivalent existential gesture on Tarkovsky’s part, the speed of this tracking shot.”
  – Benjamin Halligan, the author of the article, analysing Tarkovsky’s use of slow camera movement as ‘existential’ rather than a device to construct meaning
• “Bazin compared [the long take] to a suspect under police interrogation: eventually the suspect will crack and reveal the truth if questioned long enough. Likewise, if the camera is left running long enough, eventually reality will crack and surrender itself to the camera, and the camera can capture this reality accordingly.”
  – Halligan on André Bazin, a French film theorist who considered long takes to be “segment[s] of life”

I find Tarkovsky’s rejection of Eisenstein’s methods and his insight into the potential of cinema as an art from truly exciting. While I understand the power of the edit and the unique attribute of cinema in being able to convey meaning through a succession of shots and cuts, I also believe that cinema is unique as a medium of movement. I feel as though this is fundamentally what makes it so interesting, and what gives it most of its potential.

With this in mind, I agree with Tarkovsky’s statements. Particularly I am drawn to the ‘unspoken elusiveness’ that he speaks of, which I feel is the key commonality that surges through all art. This, and the ‘air’ that he feels that Eisenstein lacks in his methods, I think directly relates to the capturing of unanticipated occurrences during a long take. A long take inflates itself with this air over time, until eventually it pushes through the screen and the barrier between the viewer and the substance of the image is greatly diminished.

It is this nature of the long take that I am most deeply intrigued by. It has helped me realise that my clearest objective this semester in Ways of Making is to improve my capability as an artistic director. I feel that a productive way to practise this and bring myself closer to it is to coordinate a series of long takes, often repeating the same sequence, noting particularly the idiosyncratic separation that is inherent in these repeated sequences.

I shall leave you with the piece of wisdom that drew me to Tarkovsky’s visions and film philosophy in the first place:

http://io9.gizmodo.com/this-iconic-scene-from-children-of-men-was-actually-an-840211730

• A long take “heightens the tension for the viewer”
• “the blood splash was the miracle [in that scene]” – Cuaron discussing an accidental moment during a long take where fake blood splashed against the lens, which subsequently became a defining feature of the shot
• “The whole film was a mistake” – Cuaron regarding Gravity, a film recognised for its hugely ambitious long takes and spectacular shots

‘Mistakes’, or unanticipated occurrences during long takes, could be considered side-effects of the ambition it takes to pursue a long take. The coordination traditionally required to execute a successful long take is intricate, creating significant opportunity for error. This is one factor that distinguishes the long take from other shot types: it is often praised for the sense of virtuosity associated with its making and unfolding, in similar fashion to how one might appreciate a deeply choreographed dance routine or stage show successfully performed before their eyes.

A different angle might be that these ‘mistakes’ are another distinguishing factor of long takes. They are partly what draw us, as humans riddled with error, to long takes. In this way, a long take is a glimpse into a different perspective – a certain way of viewing the world that may not occur to us otherwise. The longer the take, the more opportunity there is for unpredictable activity, which may be as significant as blood spattering upon the lens à la Children of Men, or as insignificant as an actor’s misplaced step. The captured moments that we don’t anticipate when shooting a long take could be considered the moments that we share with our audience for the first time. These are thus moments of nature, of life as it occurs around and before us. In this sense, cinema has a very unique role as an artistic medium with the potential to offer alternative shoes of perspective for the viewer to step into.

When the blood hit the lens in Children of Men, Cuaron called for the shot to be cut. He was not heard, so the shot carried on to its completion, ultimately becoming one of the most awe-inspiring and loaded long takes in history. Cuaron could have been heard, however, and this is where my interest lies.

Below I have included an excerpt of this famous long take – note the effect of the blood against the lens and the impact it has on the scene’s intensity.

In the Chinatown example that Paul presented to the class, I became more aware of the importance of lighting and how to direct actors for best usage of space. The way that Jack Nicholson stood at the bottom of the hill to momentarily stand where shafts of light were coming through the bridge was a good example of taking advantage of the time of day to achieve particular effect with the scenery. The importance of casting and costuming was also emphasised, proving that meaning could be established by matching the environment with the look of the actors and their costumes, which by extension enhances the space itself.

Paul also gave us some preliminary tips on colour correction. The crux of which was to do your colour correcting or at least the necessary experimentation in a separate sequence entitled “Colour” so you’re not afraid to try what you wouldn’t otherwise in your main edit. This is a tip that I will definitely apply to my use of Premiere perhaps beyond specifically colour correction.

After this we jumped straight into a multi-camera shoot, using three cameras in attempt to emulate a scene from Mad Men. We had on-set monitors that could be used to emulate as accurately as possible. This was probably the best explanation I’ve had of how to avoid crossing the line and why it is generally important to do so, as it was clear with the monitors how strange it looks if you actually do cross the line.

With a clear idea of how better to approach Premiere project organisation, I’m feeling more confident about my future edits and the overall presentation of them. I feel that I will be able to amend any production errors that I may have made in post and more appropriately “shoot to edit” from here on out.

 

Watch footage here >> Angles, Lines, Shadows and Rice Bran Oil

A compilation of most of my footage so far. While all rough, some of my ideas are present in this footage. Especially in the first thirty seconds or so – note the way I’ve framed the wall that Gabe walks along, this is the sort of application of the environment I intend to pursue.

I recently watched Alfonso Cuaron’s film Children of Men after having not watched it for a number of years. I found it to be very moving and outstanding in its execution. After thinking about it for a few days, I realised that it has a lot of relevance to this course so naturally I thought I’d have a good ol yarn about it.

What stands out above all in Children of Men is its unique take on the future (or at least when compared to other dystopian sci-fis) and the way in which this is presented. The desolate, bleak representation of a world brought undone by a global infertility crisis is created with a very dull palette and lighting scheme (the film is conveniently set and shot primarily in London) and a horrifying realism in the production design.

What most strikingly communicates this crisis, however, is the cinematography. This is where I find that the connection to Ways of Making is made clearest, as the camera work in this film beautifully bridges the codes and aesthetics of drama and documentary filmmaking in order to most effectively deliver the content. The camera is generally handheld, and most of the film is delivered in deeply choreographed yet simultaneously raw long takes, the longest of which sits around the 13 minute mark. As with a film of the cinema vérité movement, the camerawork gives an almost amateur, intimate insight to the activity being captured. The camera could even be considered a character of its own: a conduit through which we can experience the events ourselves.

While this film is at heart a dramatic film, this documentary-style execution gives extra weight to the subject matter at hand. It’s as if Cuaron is giving us a documentary from a potential future, a dark insight into what lies ahead. The presentation of the film and use of the camera sheds light on serious current political, racial and environmental issues and prompts us to think.

The music in the film also plays a big role and often works with the aforementioned elements to direct attention and provide emotional impact. The sweeping strings often make us empathetic of Theo, and feature songs such as ‘In The Court of the Crimson King’ indicate brief moments of grandeur in a world which is otherwise entirely hopeless.

These are all elements I hope to take into my further footage and experimentation. I hope to use the camera in such a way that even the use of it has meaning. I intend to execute long takes that could replicate the perspective of a person and to focus on the patterns, angle and intricacies of parts of the world that our own perspectives may skim over. I will use different elements of construction to draw attention to these things, such as the music and lighting. In this sense I hope to make a series of video essays rather than a narrative based film, which will be drawn together by a common objective to elicit an awareness and noticing in the viewer.

ACTIONS

• Flight of birds (or bird movement in general)
• Drumming, grace and elegance of jazz drummers
• Ferryman + movement of oars
• Cleaning
• Different directions of motion (eg: circular window cleaning, zig-zag sweeping)
• Mechanical movements of mundane things (curtains, pool cleaners, etc)

PLACES

• Rooftops (Out of bounds areas)
• Rivers, lakes (Tranquil, often an inherently quiet place)
• Staircases (Covering multiple levels, creating interesting angles)
• Supermarkets (Aisles, meaning attached to different products, colours of aisles)
• Train stations
• Alleyways
• Fountains in public areas
• Library
• Studios (music, art, editing suites) / Workspaces
• Tennis Court

PEOPLE

• Nick
  – His stubbornness / gaze that implies he’s waiting for his turn to speak
• Max
  – His walk / wander
• Lara
  – Her singing stare

I definitely want to work with locations and the meanings we attach to them / angles and movements they inherently create.

With a focus on lighting and camera movement, we set out to capture some footage. For a start, we set up a dolly rig, which I’d never actually worked with before. We focused on using movement within the shot and how this can be used to effect. We practised having the camera and movement of the subject align as if they were mirroring each other’s movement, having the camera lead and having the camera follow. Each produces a different effect, and we discovered which is most appropriate based on the actions captured in the shot.

The first shot we produced followed the movement of the subject (Gabe) almost precisely as he moved. As he was centred in the frame, we found that the most appropriate movement would involve keeping him in the middle of the frame to continue the aesthetic. I found that this shot, even though it was a continuous single shot with similar framing throughout, gave three very distinct frames which could have existed as separate shots but were made more comedic and effective by remaining in a single shot. We later tried the same sequence of shots to test whether having Gabe follow the movement of the camera would be as effective but it didn’t communicate the framing as well.

After this we tested more elaborate movements with the camera, combining pans, tracks and tilts to shift focus from different subjects within the shot. We found that these sorts of movements need to be thoroughly calculated, and that you need to mark essentially every point at which the camera needs to end up. This resulted in 3 or so people being behind the camera – one to primarily drive it, one to ensure that the focus was pulled to the right setting and one to check that the camera was stopping at the right points.

I enjoyed using the dolly rig and now realise the creative potential you have with really fluid movement. I’m not sure whether I’ll make use of this with what I choose to produce further down the track as I feel that a handheld feel might compliment the style of footage a little better.

 

For this class we split into groups and set off to capture some abstract material that could be used to edit in creative ways to achieve a certain effect. My group, helmed by Mia’s idea, went down to the construction on Franklin St and worked with the shadows produced between the bars and scaffolding. We found that by specifically working with shadows and light and the movement of shadows, some interesting effects can be achieved. Depending on the camera angle, some of the shadows seemed more distorted than others, and having a considerable number of people walking past meant that there was a lot of variety and surrealism at play.

The shot in this experiment that I thought was most interesting was the tracking shot that Mia implemented, following my shadow along a wall that was exposed to fragmented sections of light. As other people walked in the opposite direction to me, the shadows merged and split frequently, where smaller shadows would momentarily become taller. This, in my opinion, established an abstract narrative sense of unity that could possibly be explored further.

After this, I decided to practise the ability to capture qualities of my surroundings in a visually dynamic way, working collaboratively with the idiosyncrasies of the architecture around me. Working with this mindset, I was not only able to capture material that I found to fit this criteria well, I became more aware of my surroundings and more attentive to the opportunities, which is a benefit beyond filmmaking. I decided that from then on I would try to engage with my surroundings as if they were to be composed for a shot more often, practising an eye for this sort of awareness.

I may approach a similar topic in my week 7 presentation.

During this class Paul exposed us to a number of different scenes from films, all of which seemed to neatly blend documentary and drama. I found some of these examples to be quite eye-opening, such as the Méliès (?) shot of the women handwashing, which cleverly utilises the 1.33 : 1 aspect ratio to divide the shot into distinct sections; a composition that I could imagine seeing as a painting. This was furthered by the fact that a group of men in the shot stand very still, unaware that Méliès is filming them, which makes for an interesting narrative dynamic in the shot – the women continue to go about their task without knowing that they’re being filmed whereas the men are essentially social actors by interacting with the camera.

I was also drawn to the documentary of the football player, which favoured subtitles over any narration. Not only did this align with what the player was talking about, but also breaks down language barriers and the potential distraction that narration can often be in my opinion. It gave a real sense that these were genuine thoughts that the player was having, that they hadn’t been performed in any way for us to receive as viewers.

I’m really enjoying being exposed to these different examples. Keen to see what Paul has in store next class!

I thought I’d use this post to discuss some of my favourite films in the documentary realm and what I feel sets them apart from other works while also pushing the boundaries of the documentary title itself.

Time Indefinite is a 1993 self-reflexive documentary directed by and starring Ross McElwee. The film is made up of handheld footage recorded by McElwee that documents a period of his life, in which he experiences marriage, deaths within the family and the birth of his son. He achieves this documentation by essentially filming everything for an extended period of time, almost obsessed with viewing the world through a lens. He narrates the material throughout, and incorporates conversations with friends and family.

What all of this ultimately produces is a modest musing on mortality, a chunk of life that contains many of the ups and downs that we can all relate to. What makes this film unique, however, is the honesty in the creation and aesthetic of the film. All shots, all conversations, everything in the film comes across as a genuine experience, genuine enough even to acknowledge the presence of the camera but without seeming to be hammed up for the camera.

The presence of the camera and McElwee’s insistence on filming as much material as he does is perhaps one of the most interesting aspects of the film, in several ways: we adopt the viewpoint of McElwee which allows us to briefly view the world through someone else’s eyes; we are aware that the camera is always present as do those involved, which sometimes provokes interesting behaviour and discussion; we experience a strange disconnect with what’s happening, which McElwee also experiences. This all makes for a commentary that is all too relevant in the age of smartphones and social media: that no matter how much you document your life and put it on show for everyone else, you will run the risk of missing out on a great deal yourself.

Another film that I love and that many would argue does not belong within the documentary genre is 1984’s This Is Spinal Tap. In my opinion, this is the greatest mockumentary made to date, and simultaneously set the bar high and deomnstrated what was possible in the field of documentary for similar films to follow.

To me, this film is undoubtedly a documentary, even if none of the specific content within the film is “real” and is performed by actors. What the film portrays is a dangerously accurate insight into the ridiculousness of the misogynistic, embarrassingly masculine era of hard rock bands a la Mötley Crüe & Def Leppard in the 1980s. The fictional band in the film is Spinal Tap, and through their hilarious performances and script Christopher Guest, Rob Reiner, Michael McKean and Harry Shearer so perfectly and painfully represent what many bands in that genre of music were all about.

The success of this film is largely dependent on the fact that it is humorous, and the message is possibly a lot clearer because it is satirical.