Reflection A5

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Final Studio Reflection – Still Here

Creating ‘Still Here’ in the context of the Golden Age Studio was both creatively refreshing and practically challenging. Our studio’s theme encouraged us to reflect on the golden age of cinema not just in terms of style, but in the emotional weight and visual storytelling that classic films of these ages often carried. With ‘Still Here’, a short film about grief, memory, and emotional limbo, we wanted to channel this classic sensibility through a modern, subtle ghost story. My hope was for the film to engage audiences by offering a slow, emotional reveal that unraveled much like the prestige dramas of early cinema while still resonating with viewers on a personal level.

At the core of our story is the emotional disconnect between Alex, who is alive, and Casey, who we eventually discover is a ghost. The aim was not to rely on horror tropes or dramatic twists, but instead to build a quiet sense of unease through lighting/tone, performance,  and setting. Drawing from Ahead’s (2024) reflections on golden age cinema’s power to “leave things unsaid but deeply felt,” we used silence, distance, and domestic mundanity to draw viewers in. Our studio’s key concern  exploring emotional complexity with cinematic care  was something I believe ‘Still Here’ communicates effectively.

Unfortunately, I was unable to attend the studio exhibition due to family commitments. However, through reviewing my peers’ presentations and discussions with my group members, I got a sense of the diversity and ambition across the studio. I would have liked to receive direct audience feedback and see how viewers responded to our film’s pacing and tonal shifts, especially the twist surrounding Casey’s ghostly nature.

The most successful aspect of our project was completing all filming within a single day. It was an intense and exhausting schedule, but the fact that we were able to shoot the entire script in one go, without major technical or creative issues, is something I’m proud of. At the same time, this was also our greatest limitation. The one-day shoot was a result of tight scheduling; our availability didn’t align enough to allow multiple shoot days. This constraint meant we had limited time to finesse shots, adjust lighting with care, or experiment with alternate takes. In retrospect, shooting everything in one day made the production possible, but it also limited the quality and creativity that could have been achieved with more time.

If I were to continue developing ‘Still Here’, I’d revisit the cinematography, lighting, and overall pacing. The lighting in particular could have done more to support the emotional tone  for example, using colder hues as Casey fades from the frame, or a focus on shadows to create a sense of ghostly presence. These improvements align with Babbar’s (2024) discussion on the “evolution of visual language in cinema” and how modern films can still learn from the symbolic weight of light and shadow. With more time, I’d also sharpen the narrative arc, perhaps adding more ambiguity at the start or layering in subtle clues about Casey’s absence from the physical world. These small touches would enhance both the film’s mystery and emotional resonance.

One key takeaway from the studio that I’ll carry forward is the importance of thorough pre-production. Our script was strong, and our vision was clear, but certain issues during filming could have been avoided with more detailed planning. We learned this firsthand: when pre-production is rushed, production suffers. As Charleson (2019) argues in Filmmaking as Research, the filmmaking process should be treated as a practice of discovery  and preparation is part of that. Our project reinforced the value of spending more time in the earlier stage of our work to test, plan, and prepare, making sure the actual shoot is smoother and more focused.

Collaboration was also vital to this project. We had a strong team, and everyone contributed something important from directing and cinematography to sound and logistics. However, one key lesson I took from the collaborative process was that defined roles matter. When responsibilities are blurry things like collaboration can be taken to far impeding on each others roles. So defining our roles creates more freedom both creatively and logistically in departments such as cinematography editing and writing and directing. Which would have improved our workflow and taken pressure off individuals during filming and other stages of production. Everyone on our team was capable, but clearer understanding and boundaries of each role would have allowed us to work more efficiently under the tight time we had.

Overall, ‘Still Here’ is a film I’m proud of. It reflects the key ideas of the studio  drawing from prestige cinema to explore deep emotions and restrained storytelling  while also giving me a chance to grow as a filmmaker. I’ve learned how small details like how a light shines or an unspoken line can carry emotional weight. I’ve learned that time, preparation, and teamwork make all the difference. And I’ve learned that sometimes the biggest moments in a story are the quiet ones, if you allow them the space to be felt.

Reference List 

Ahead, I. (2024). Shadows and light: Exploring the legacy of Golden Age cinema. The Seybold Report, 19(1), 854–862.

Babbar, I. (2024). Evolution of cinema. International Journal for Multidisciplinary Research, 6(1), 1–4.

Charleson, D. (2019). Filmmaking as research: Screening memories (1st ed.). Springer International Publishing. https://doi.org/10.1007/978-3-030-24635-8

Assignment 4 Golden Age Cinema

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Still Here_FINAL_Compressed.mp4

Still Here_FINAL_Vimeo720p.mp4

‘Still Here’ Reflection 

What I Gained from the Studio 

This studio gave me a deeper understanding of how cinematic storytelling can be used to explore emotional experiences in ways that go beyond surface-level drama with my experience being mostly horror. It was good to branch out. Our short film, Still Here, was created to capture the emotional tension that lingers when grief remains unresolved not through heavy-handed exposition or genre clichés, but through the small, domestic moments of everyday life. At first glance, the film seems to be about a couple bickering in their apartment. But as the narrative unfolds, it becomes clear that Casey is a ghost, and the argument is actually a manifestation of their frustration with the situation and inability to let go.

The aim of our film was to connect with audiences through subtlety and realism. Rather than framing Casey’s ghost as frightening, we approached his presence with emotional warmth and sadness. This aligned with what Susan Hayward (2000) describes as cinema’s ability to “speak through images and mood,” allowing space for personal reflection and layered meaning. Our hope was that viewers would relate to the way grief can haunt everyday life and how something as simple as a dirty kitchen can carry the weight of someone no longer being there.

If we were to continue developing Still Here, there are several aspects we’d want to improve or build upon. The ghost element, while emotionally strong, could be enhanced with more visual and sound design  such as Casey’s absence in reflections, or he’s interactions being more distant with Alex. With more time and resources, we’d also refine the pacing of the final scenes to deepen the emotional payoff. Expanding the narrative beyond the final couch scene might allow us to explore how Alex begins the process of healing.

This studio encouraged me to trust subtle storytelling and showed me how effective careful cinematography, sound, and editing can be in communicating internal experiences. In many ways, our film embodies what Jason Mittell (2020) identifies as “prestige television” aesthetics: emotionally complex, slow-burning, and character-driven. We aimed for the same tone in a short format  minimalist, but something felt.

Making the Film: Development to Post

Development and Pre-Production

The idea for Still Here began as a short sketch in our idea draft, a passive-aggressive fight between two partners that ends with the reveal that one of them is a ghost. This basic concept gave us a lot to work with. From the start, we wanted the story to feel grounded and relatable, with hints of something deeper beneath the surface. The tone was inspired by character-driven dramas that slowly shift into something more surreal, similar to the kinds of subtle genre blends discussed by Cable (2007), who outlines how emotional storytelling can be layered within everyday realism.

In our early writing sessions, we developed Casey and Alex as opposites. Casey was structured, clean, and careful  traits that, in life, might have been annoying to Alex, but in death become symbols of everything she’s lost. Alex, on the other hand, is chaotic, unstructured, and emotionally avoidant. This character dynamic shaped everything  from our script to our set design.

The pre-production phase involved scripting, shot planning, casting, and preparing logistics. We created a detailed Shot List and used the Call Sheet to organise our filming day. Our location, a Docklands apartment that was Laura’s mothers, was selected because it felt like a real lived-in space. As Babbar (2024) argues, the evolution of cinema has always relied on creating believable environments that support character-driven narratives, and we used this principle to guide our production design.

We paid special attention to the opening montage. These scenes  of Casey and Alex eating together, dancing while cleaning, folding laundry were shot with warm light and smooth editing to create a feeling of comfort and routine. This “normal/happy” was key to setting up the emotional contrast that happens.

Production

Filming took place on May 9th. We followed a clear schedule outlined in our Production Timeline, allowing us to manage time and energy across the shoot. Our team included Yusuf Abas (Director), Zara Carter (Producer), Laura Sanigorski (DOP), and Hao Wen (/Editor), along with actors Rosie Hanna and Michael Percival.

The shoot went smoothly overall, though we had to adjust a few scenes based on lighting and actor availability. One of the challenges was keeping the “ghost logic” consistent. For example, we made sure that Casey never physically interacted with anything after the montage. His distance from objects  and from Alex  helped build the sense of absence.

We also used space in careful ways. In scenes where tension rises, we placed Casey slightly off-centre or framed him alone in wide shots. This visual separation supported the emotional distance between the characters and hinted at his ghostly nature, without needing to say it outright. This use of space reflects what Irshad Ahead (2024) describes as the “shadow play” of Golden Age cinema  where absence and presence are played off each other visually rather than literally.

Post-Production

Editing allowed us to sharpen the emotional pacing of the film. The first third of the film is filled with movement and sound  characters talking, music playing, objects being used. But as Casey’s ghostly state becomes clearer, the pacing slows, the shots linger, and the background noise fades. This change was intentional and supported by Hao Wen’s sound design. Moments of silence were often more effective than music or dialogue, giving the audience time to feel what was happening.

The Colour Grading process was also essential Laura headed this supported by Hao Wen. We began with warmer burnt orange tones to reflect comfort and intimacy. As tension grew, we shifted to black white and greys to show that contrast had changed emotionally. According to Lyons (2020), colour and tone in modern streaming television often reflect emotional journeys, particularly in stories about memory and personal loss. This approach directly influenced how we treated the visual tone of our film.

Some of our best editing choices were simple: letting a shot run a second longer, or fading out the sound just before a key line. These techniques created mood and meaning without over-explaining anything and helped us keep a scene longer without ruining it with extra dialogue that was meaningless.

One of my favorite moments is the bedscene. Alex leans her head toward Casey’s space, but they don’t touch. That space between them  that emotional gap, says more than any line could. It’s the moment where she starts to accept he’s gone, even if she’s not ready to say goodbye yet.

Collaboration

This film was very much a team effort. Our group worked well together, and each person brought their strengths to the project. I had a vision for performance and blocking. Zara was highly organised, keeping production on track and supporting everyone. Laura’s cinematography helped shape the visual style, and Hao Wen was on Boom capturing sound. I contributed mosty during preproduction and production , only providing feedback during post-production.

We had creative disagreements, especially about how “ghostly” to make Casey. Some of us wanted to make it obvious  using effects like Casey disappearing in a mirror while some wanted a softer, more emotional approach. In the end, we all agreed on the softer emotional approach removing the supernatural element down to a fade out. We didn’t overdo the supernatural, which kept the focus on the emotional story.

Throughout the semester, our class activities helped us practice these skills. Previous assignments being on camera framing, movement, tone, and editing all became tools we used in our final shoot. Watching other groups ideas and presentation also helped us reflect on our own process. Seeing the variety of approaches in class gave us confidence that there wasn’t just one way to tell a good story.

 

Reflection on Peer Presentation 

One of the standout pitches from Week 9 was Lazy Susan by Group 6. Although the film wasn’t completed yet, their concept was clear, well-developed, and visually strong. Set around a family dinner in an Asian household, the project used the rotating Lazy Susan as a central metaphor, representing cycles of communication, tension, and cultural tradition.

Their intention to reflect personal cultural experiences through a prestige cinema lens was particularly compelling. Drawing inspiration from high-quality family dramas, the group focused on subtle character dynamics and unspoken tension. Their plan to use long takes, emotional dialogue reminded me of the visual storytelling techniques we used in Still Here, especially in scenes where mood and silence carried emotional weight.

Even without a finished product in mind, the group’s focus on emotional realism and visual symbolism was clear. Their pitch showed a strong understanding of how domestic space and performance can speak volumes, a quality we also aimed for in our own work. It was a thoughtful and grounded concept that, once realised, will likely be very moving and relatable.

Reference List

  • Ahead, I. (2024). Shadows and light: Exploring the legacy of Golden Age cinema. The Seybold Report, 19(1), 854–862.
  • Babbar, I. (2024). Evolution of cinema. International Journal for Multidisciplinary Research, 6(1), 1–4.
  • Cable, C. (2007). Two modes of prestige film. Screen, 48(3), 291–311. https://doi.org/10.1093/screen/hjm017
  • Hayward, S. (2000). Cinema studies: Key concepts (2nd ed.). Routledge.
  • Lyons, S. (2020). A streaming comes across the sky: Peak TV and the fate of nostalgia. Flow Journal: A Critical Forum on Media and Culture, 26(5), 1–6. https://www.flowjournal.org/2020/05/streaming-nostalgia/
  • Mittell, J. (2020). Better Call SaulThe prestige spinoff. In E. Thompson & J. Mittell (Eds.), How to watch television (2nd ed., pp. 13–21). New York University Press.

Assignment 2

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‘Running?’ Media Res Opening Sequence.mp4

Script&Production Notes.pdf

Reflection

Media-Res Cinema Opening Sequence

What were you trying to achieve in terms of critically communicating about Framing in Film, and what method did you use in the editing process to attempt this?

In my media-res opening sequence, I aimed to explore the concept of framing as a narrative and visual device by dropping the viewer straight into the heart of the action, the moment of peak tension. The story centers on a chase, a protagonist running, presumably being chased, with no initial context. The objective was to engage the audience through mystery and suspense before eventually flashing back to provide narrative clarity. By starting in media res, I wanted the audience to question what they were seeing and be pulled into the story through disorientation and a sense of urgency/fear hence the repeated and repeated shots.

To achieve this, I relied heavily on visual framing. The use of handheld shots created a sense of immediacy and movement, invoking tension but as well medium and wide shots were employed using a tripod to emphasize motion and spatial geography, while close-ups on the protagonist’s face and hands allowed viewers to emotionally connect and detect small but crucial actions. Susan Hayward (2000) explains how framing choices contribute to meaning-making, and in this case, framing was used to reflect chaos, tension, and emotional urgency.

The editing process played a vital role in communicating these ideas. I utilized some match cuts, quick cuts, tracking/pans to follow the action and subject to enhance the pace and unpredictability of the entire sequence. The intent was to mimic the mental state of a character in distress, uncertain and on edge. However, due to time constraints and insufficient footage, the edit lacks the rhythm and duration necessary for full narrative immersion. Babbar (2024) discusses how modern cinematic techniques evolve around viewer expectations of pace and energy, and although I aimed to reflect this, the runtime and limited shots prevented a fuller execution. The intended effect was for the subject to stuck and lost in a 

How did your pre production, production, and post production processes go, and what would you improve next time?

Pre-Production

The concept of beginning the film in the media res opening sequence was inspired by many psychological films or shows where what’s shown isn’t what it seems. I was drawn to the style seen in high-paced streaming dramas, where the first minutes are often thrilling. While I had a clear idea and wrote a short blurb and scene plan, I failed to produce a full storyboard or shot list, which resulted in disorganized shooting and minimal planning around runtime. As Lyons (2020) notes in her analysis of Peak TV, audiences today are accustomed to rich, immediate engagement. Without a solid plan, I wasn’t able to fulfill that expectation entirely.

Next time, I would begin by creating a structured pre-production plan, including detailed storyboarding, shot planning, and a more defined visual aesthetic to ensure consistency. I’d also calculate how long each scene or sequence should run, so I can better manage time and guarantee the final product meets the required duration.

Production

Production was rushed and took place without the flexibility I would’ve preferred. Shooting occurred primarily on campus, which limited location control, particularly in terms of background action and lighting. The lack of control reduced the impact of some frames, which I had intended to be more visually powerful. Some camera angles did not match my original vision, and only a few takes were completed for each shot due to time pressure.

More takes would have allowed me to correct framing errors or capture better performances. I also found that actors struggled without clearer blocking instructions. In future shoots, I will prioritize rehearsals and more precise actor directions to achieve greater visual clarity.

Post-Production

Despite the production issues, post-production allowed me to shape the footage into a somewhat coherent sequence. The editing was centered around building suspense and confusion—key components of the in media res approach. I used audio cues and cuts to draw attention to motion and sound, creating atmosphere.

However, the most pressing issue was the final video’s runtime. It falls short of the required two-minute mark, which diminishes narrative development and emotional engagement. This shortfall was due to both inadequate footage and lack of time. As Hayward (2000) explains, editing is not merely technical but deeply tied to meaning-making. The limited footage forced me to omit moments that would have contextualized the chase more thoroughly.

In future edits, I would allow more time for color grading and audio mixing, both of which can add professional polish and support narrative tone. Additionally, I would consider layering in non-linear visual clues during the sequence to foreshadow the flashback, enhancing intrigue and reinforcing the in media res style.

What were the most and least successful parts of your Prestige Cinema Opening Scene, and why?

Most Successful Parts

The strongest element of the sequence was its immediate sense of urgency and visual intrigue. The choice to begin in the middle of the action created tension and curiosity—both intentional outcomes. The use of music and quick editing also elevated the sequence emotionally, helping to sustain the high stakes of the moment despite limited context.

This aligns with Babbar’s (2024) notion of modern cinema leaning into rapid engagement and sensory storytelling. Viewers are expected to pick up information from mood and pacing rather than narrative exposition like dialogue, and in that sense, the sequence achieved its goal.

Least Successful Parts

The most significant flaw was the sequence’s incomplete runtime and lack of narrative clarity. Because of the shorter length, the scene lacked time to establish stakes, characters, and background. This hindered audience investment. Also, some frames lacked sharpness in visual composition—the handheld aesthetic at times became too erratic, making it hard to follow the protagonist’s movement.

Another drawback was the abruptness of the ending. Since there was no return to the “beginning” after the media res moment, the concept felt unfinished. Lyons (2020) highlights how modern audiences have a high tolerance for ambiguity but still expect resolution or at least a compelling narrative thread. Without a clear transition or payoff, the tension I built at the start didn’t culminate effectively.

Conclusion

My media-res opening sequence attempted to use framing and editing to immediately grip the audience and build intrigue, dropping them into a moment of high drama before offering explanation. While the visual style and energy succeeded in parts, flaws in planning and production limited the impact. Had the video met the two-minute requirement, I could have delivered a stronger emotional arc and more meaningful suspense.

This project taught me the necessity of strong pre-production planning and the importance of matching production scale to available time and resources. In future, I aim to combine well-thought-out visuals with cohesive storytelling, ensuring that my framing choices serve the story in both form and function.

Reflection:

  • Babbar, I 2024, Evolution of cinema, International Journal for Multidisciplinary Research, vol. 6, no. 1, pp. 1–4.
  • Hayward, S 2000, Cinema studies: The key concepts, 2nd edn, Routledge, New York.
  • Lyons, S 2020, ‘A streaming comes across the sky: Peak TV and the fate of nostalgia’, Flow Journal: A Critical Forum on Media and Culture, vol. 26, no. 5, pp. 1–6.

Assignment 1

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Yusuf_Abas_s39946777_Assignment1_MediaStudio_2025.mp4

2 Minute – Opening Sequence Pre-Production Work.docx

‘The Code’ Adobe Timeline

Reflection

– What were you trying to achieve in terms of critically communicating about Framing in Film, and what method did you use in the editing process to attempt this?

In my prestige opening sequence, an action/suspense drama about a “regular” student who is hacking to acquire a code while being followed, I aimed to use the framing to immerse the audience in the high-stakes scenario. My concept drew inspiration from action films, utilising handheld camera work to create a sense of urgency and realism through a shaky cam effect. This was coupled with a mixture of medium and full-body shots to capture character movement, while close-ups were reserved for subtle but significant actions like hand movements and facial expressions.

From an editing perspective, I used match cuts repeatedly to have a smooth flow between shots, ensuring that the action and movement felt continuous and full of tension. Music played an important role in heightening tension and suspense, escalating the intensity of key moments. Dialogue was kept minimal to focus on the immediate action, leaving context and deeper character motivations out to maintain mystery.

My way of tackling framing coincides with Susan Hayward’s (2000) discussion on mise-en-scène and framing in Cinema Studies: Key Concepts, where she emphasises how different shot types guide audience interpretations. By maintaining effective framing and shot composition, I sought to create an immersive experience where the audience felt the protagonist’s tension and urgency. Furthermore, Chris Cable’s (2007) analysis of prestige films highlights how visual framing and editing techniques add to storytelling. My use of match cuts and rapid pacing was influenced by such insights, aiming to enhance narrative progression.

– How did your pre production, production, and post production processes go, and what would you improve next time?

Pre-Production

The concept of my opening sequence came to me quickly, inspired by the NBC TV show ‘Chuck’ that I’m currently watching. I developed an idea map, followed by a short blurb summarising the project’s story, before diving into scriptwriting. However, one major shortcoming was the lack of a shot list or storyboard, which could have provided a clearer guidance when envisioning the scene. This lack thereof led to challenges during production, where I had to make framing decisions on the spot rather than following a well-planned structure. In future projects, I would ensure a thorough pre-production stage to streamline production and avoid improvisation with shot framing, actor blocking and narrative continuity.

Production

The production stage was rushed, leaving little room to fully control framing, mise-en-scène, and lighting. Shooting on a university campus presented challenges in controlling the environment, particularly lighting and background elements. This hindered my ability to achieve the visual precision I had envisioned. If given another opportunity, I would conduct a thorough location scouting beforehand to find a setting that allows for better control over lighting and composition. Additionally, I would allocate more time for multiple takes, which would provide more footage to work with in post-production and reduce continuity errors.

Post-Production

Post-production came to me more naturally than the other stages, as editing is a skill I have developed over time. The primary challenge I faced was continuity errors and inconsistencies in shot lineups, which I only fully recognized during editing. Had I captured more takes during production, I would have had more freedom in correcting these issues. One area for improvement would be spending more time on color grading, as a carefully sorted color palette would enhance the film’s tone and atmosphere. Hayward (2000) discusses the importance of color in shaping cinematic meaning, and a greater attention to this aspect would have enriched the visual storytelling.

– What were the most and least successful parts of your Prestige Cinema Opening Scene, and why?

Most Successful Parts

The synergy between music and visuals was the strongest aspect of my sequence. The music heightened the intensity of the scene, complementing the quick cuts and actor movements to create a suspenseful chase. By combining rapid editing with a well-matched soundtrack, I successfully conveyed tension and urgency, engaging the audience in the protagonist’s struggle.

This aligns with Irshad Ahead’s (2024) discussion in ‘Shadows and Light: Exploring the Legacy of Golden Age Cinema’ where he examines how sound and visual pacing/tempo work in tandem to evoke audience emotions. My sequence followed this principle by using sound design and cutting rhythmically to drive home the suspense.

Least Successful Parts

The weakest parts were with the continuity issues and the pacing of the final chase sequence. Some action and movement lacked a natural flow due to inconsistencies in how shots were framed and cut together. The chase, in particular, could have been more fast-paced to maintain the heat of the moment. The failure in maintaining space between characters in the shots made some transitions feel patchy rather than continuous. In hindsight, more thorough shot planning and increased takes would have resolved these issues. 

Cable (2007) emphasises the importance of spaces and how they’re framed in prestige cinema, noting how poor framing can disrupt audience immersion. If I were to refine my project, I would focus more on blocking with the actors during production to ensure more of a consistency within the world of the piece.

– Conclusion

Overall, my prestige opening sequence successfully communicated action and suspense through dynamic framing and editing, though it was limited down by production constraints and rushed planning. By improving the pre-production, allowing for more takes, and refining framing/blocking to improve continuity, I could enhance future projects. Despite these challenges, the proper use of music and editing techniques helped achieve the desired narrative goal, demonstrating the power of framing in visual storytelling.

References:

  • Cable, C. (2007). Two modes of prestige film. Screen, 48(3), 291–311.

  • Ahead, I. (2024). Shadows and light: Exploring the legacy of Golden Age cinema. The Seybold Report, 19(1), 854-862.

  • Hayward, S. (2000). Cinema studies: Key concepts (2nd ed.). Routledge.

Yusuf Abas – S3946777

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Major Reflection

In creating ‘Marilyn Monroe: The Ghosts of Old Hollywood’, our aim was to reimagine Monroe’s life and legacy through a contemporary lens, engaging the audience with her inner demons and the external pressures she faced in Hollywood during her time. This aligns with a central concern of our studio, which asks us to “How can we use histories of…. lost, unmade, partly imagined, non-existent and incomplete “films”, …..to create and inspire new works and responses…?”. Specifically relating back to “Unmade & Incomplete Films’ and how it can create and inspire new works as well as responses in the chosen media form of film. We used a film in this situation known as ‘Something’s Got to Give’ to explore and reflect upon under a contemporary microscope the unspoken side of Monroe’s experience. Through this, we went to capture a sense of unfinished and historical reinterpretation that addresses the studio’s questions.

Our studio prompt asks how exploring incomplete films, imagined stories, and even the concept of cinema’s death can inspire fresh responses in today’s media. By grounding our piece in ‘Something’s Got to Give’ We created a work that resonates with the sense of a “ghost story,” acknowledging Monroe’s legacy and her unfinished narrative within Hollywood. Brian Jacobson’s exploration of cinema’s “deaths” notes that, “each death…offers a new beginning” (Jacobson, Paredes & Hanson, 2007), which complements our goal to give Monroe a new voice in a work that remains both haunting and incomplete. Our piece addresses this “new beginning” by visualising what Monroe might have said had she been given more agency within her industry.

Viewing our work on the Capitol Theatre’s screen was rewarding, as we witnessed firsthand the reactions from our audience. Some were drawn to Monroe’s reimagined monologue, while others noted imperfections such as a noisy camera angle, which had resisted correction during post-production. Experiencing the audience’s engagement underscored the value of presenting Monroe’s internalised dialogue on a large screen, as viewers were brought face-to-face with both her constructed persona and a deeper, more human portrayal. This juxtaposition echoes Laura Mulvey’s idea that, through “passing time,” cinema uniquely bridges gaps between past and present selves (2006), which was something we hoped to accomplish with Monroe’s character.

Reflecting on the project’s successes, the recreation of Monroe’s character/being and the setting of her last unfinished film were integral. We worked hard to recreate her appearance, tone, and the sense of the 1962 scene, from her costume to lighting, bringing the audience as close as possible to Monroe’s world. This immersion allowed viewers to experience her character’s nuances, suggesting a complexity that often eludes typical Hollywood portrayals. However, there were challenges as well. One of the most significant issues was our group’s delegation of workload. A lack of clear communication led to misunderstandings and unequal distribution of tasks, sometimes resulting in rushed scenes or overlooked adjustments, like the side camera’s noisy angle. This experience highlighted the importance of given and set roles as well as frequent open communication within groups and teams.

If I were to continue developing this piece, I would address several points. First, refining our technical setup, particularly with lighting and exposure, could’ve significantly improved the quality of the camera as well as minimise the noise and sound distortion in our work. This would ensure that the visuals remained consistent and in line our thematic motive. Additionally, further refining the script would allow us to create a more organic flow in Monroe’s monologue, removing repetitive lines and building a stronger sense of causality in the dialogue. Anthony Salzberg’s analysis of ‘Something’s Got to Give’ emphasises how Monroe’s vulnerability and agency remained central even in its incomplete state, suggesting that her character’s unresolved struggles are part of what makes her legacy so compelling (Salzberg, 2015). A more nuanced script would better convey these aspects, allowing Monroe’s character to be more …complete.

Throughout the studio experience, I gained a proper understanding of creative control in group work. This lesson was eye-opening, as I found that balancing my vision with that of my teammates required openness,  listening, and often compromise. While I felt confident in my ideas for Monroe’s character, I learned the value of advocating for these points while also being open to others’ contributions. Collaboration in this environment taught me that creative control doesn’t mean dominating, but guiding the group in a streamlined direction. This reflection will be invaluable for future projects, especially in balancing leadership with inclusivity and the importance of clear communication.

Additionally, our group experience reinforced the need to recognize and utilise the different strengths and weaknesses of each member, as well as to acknowledge areas where improvement is necessary. For example, while some members excelled in design and acting, others were adept at editing and sound design, contributing distinct elements to the final product. However, weaknesses in our communication structure sometimes caused overlaps in responsibilities or a lack of follow-through on certain tasks. Making sure that all voices were heard and that workload was distributed equally would have relieved many of these issues and improved the quality of our teamwork.

In sum I’d say, ‘Marilyn Monroe: The Ghosts of Old Hollywood’ served as an exploration of Monroe’s legacy and our own contemporary relationship to Hollywood’s past. We wanted to engage the audience by revealing Monroe’s inner dialogue and, in doing so, tap into the studio’s question of how cinema’s old and unfinished works can inspire new media. As Mulvey’s reflection on time and cinema suggests, these incomplete stories allow us to connect together different eras and capture the lasting spirit of cinematic icons. For future projects, these experiences and lessons will guide my hand with collaborative and creative work, helping me refine technical and communicational skills to produce better works.

References: 

  • Jacobson, B., Paredes, V. & Hanson, C. 2007, ‘Deaths of Cinema: Introduction’, Spectator, no. 27, pp. 5-8.
  • Laura Mulvey, ‘Passing Time ‘, Death 24X a Second: Stillness and the Moving Image, London: Reaktion Books, 2006, 17-32. 
  • Salzberg, A., 2015. “How Long Does It Take?”: The Resurrection of Marilyn Monroe and Something’s Got to Give (1962). Quarterly review of film and video, 32(4), pp.355-366.

Blog Post 2

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Blog Post 2: Post-Production Stage of ‘Marilyn Monroe: The Ghosts of Old Hollywood’

Post-production on ‘Marilyn Monroe: The Ghosts of Old Hollywood’ presented its own set of challenges and triumphs. Our first shoot on October 8th was mostly smooth, but it was during the second shoot on October 10th that we faced more sound recording issues as well as some lighting ones. While setting up our shots in a dark studio space, we struggled with channel audio. This required assistance from the studio staff but the team stayed patient, and we eventually managed to get the device working, fine-tuning the settings on our recording device and achieving the desired clarity by adjusting the positioning of the microphones.

One of the highlights of this phase was Chewie’s performance of Monroe’s interview. Chewie worked extensively to channel Monroe’s mannerisms, and using a teleprompter was key to nailing the long monologue. We both spent time before the shoot setting up the teleprompter so that Chewie could deliver the lines seamlessly, keeping the emotion and pacing intact. Chewie’s dedication to the role really shone through as she embodied the frustrations of Monroe, not just reciting lines but truly feeling them, especially in the improvised moments.

The editing process, from October 11th through the 17th, was a race against time. Each editing session was focused on different elements: cutting scenes for pacing, adding effects, and syncing audio with the footage. The sound issues from our shoot days meant extra work in post-production. We used tools to clean up the audio and balance it properly across scenes, but some moments still required more tweaking. The second camera we used for an alternative angle such as the storyboard went awry when we found out the camera’s auto settings for ISO self adjusted itself believing our shot was under exposed making the quality of our shot composition an overwhelming noise. Using an adjustment layer we managed to salvage some of the angled shots with colour correction. Workload-wise Caelan took the load of the work when it came to Editing, taking it upon himself to edit in his own time with the hard-drive. I did my best to drop advice in when I could, assisting with some of the more technical Premiere Pro tools and functions. I think there were some creative clashes in the team when it came to some shots, transitions and the overall makeup of scenes however it all came together at the end and that’s what was important.

Despite the sound and scheduling challenges, our team’s determination paid off. We managed to get a final cut that we’re proud of—one that captures Monroe’s legacy with a sense of reverence, while also giving voice to her personal struggles. The journey from planning to post-production has been rewarding, and we’re excited to see how the project will be received at the Media Studio Screening.

Blog Post 1

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Blog Post 1: Pre-Production Stage of ‘Marilyn Monroe: The Ghosts of Old Hollywood’

Our pre-production stage for’*Marilyn Monroe: The Ghosts of Old Hollywood’ began without much direction if any at all. After squandering a bit of time scrambling for unfinished films and unmade works, i chanced upon footage of an unfinished film called ‘Somethings Got to Give’ and suggested we work on this for our work. After deliberation with the team and advice from Adrian we initiated the process but realised with such a controversial and influential person like Marilyn Monroe in the scene, we’d have to understand as much as we could before we made this piece and so began an in-depth research on Monroe’s life including her legacy in film. This project wasn’t just about recreating a scene from ‘Something’s Got to Give’, but about delving into the many sides of Monroe as a person and actor. The entire group brought different perspectives to the table, placing ideas from her career struggles, mental health issues, and societal pressures that shaped her public image. We explored her battles with the industry, the label of “blonde bombshell,” and her desire to break away from that limiting persona. These themes became central to our script and a group viewing of a documentary of ‘Marilyn Monroe’ and ‘Something’s Got to Give’ gave us direction.

After managing to make a script using video to text software and reediting it, making an initial side by side draft with the modern changes we decided to move into a different direction once more Caelan taking charge led the scriptwriting process with AI assistance, which gave us a starting point to build on. It was essential to balance AI’s draft with our group’s understanding of Monroe, her strength, and her vulnerability. The script took a interesting angle, imagining how Monroe might have reacted to the scene in ‘Something’s Got to Give’ had her real-life struggles been acknowledged. We saw a version of Monroe who rebels against the stereotypical roles she was often given, directly confronting the industry’s treatment of her.  We met a few times to review, edit, and refine the dialogue, working to give Monroe a voice that was both true to her historical persona and also reflective of the themes we wanted to explore her desire for authenticity and freedom. The group collaborated to fine-tune the script, ensuring that her frustrations, as well as her depth, came through.

With our other documents such as sketches, storyboards Caelan and Chewie reviewed these on the whiteboards during class after discussion to bring together a visual plan for our shots later on. When it came to costume ideas, it was a bit of a scramble to find our Marilyn Monroe costume and a collaborative effort to source from Caelan and Chewie. The group discussions were particularly productive as we debated how to approach Monroe’s inner struggles.

Finalising the script brought us to a place where we were ready to move forward with shooting. From ensuring the script captured the emotional complexity of Monroe’s character to preparing for the technical aspects of production like costume choices and securing equipment. By the end of the pre-production phase, we were confident that we had a solid narrative, one that honoured Monroe’s legacy while giving her the depth and respect she deserved.

Video Piece & Critical Reflection

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Cinema Experience.mp4

Critical Reflection

In completing my short project, which included a video/photo and audio piece, I engaged with both my own and my friend Saverio’s experiences of cinema. The project aimed to respond to the broader prompt: “If the cinema is dead, dying, transforming or disappearing how can it be remembered?” and explore how our personal connections to cinema align with themes such as the ephemerality of cinema-going and the “death” of traditional cinema.

The first challenge I encountered was how to bring out meaningful and reflective responses during the initial recording process. To do this, I developed a set of personal, open-ended questions that helped me and my friend explore our backgrounds and emotional connections to cinema. We delved into how cinema impacted us growing up—what it felt like to sit in a theatre, how certain franchises shaped our imagination, and how our relationships with cinema have changed over time. The questions I used, such as “what is Cinema to you?” and “How did you experience/feel about it growing up?” allowed us to reflect more on the themes of change and loss associated with cinema. Our answers touched on the community aspect of cinema-going or TV/Film experience, the physicality of cinema theatres, and how streaming has altered these experiences.

During the editing process, I faced several challenges. The most significant of these was adjusting audio levels between different recordings, as some sections were noticeably quieter than others. Achieving a balanced audio experience required me to carefully edit individual sound files, adjusting volumes without making them sound too janky and distorted. The visual component of the project included images of a cinema I was close to combined with a movie montage from Youtube.

I meant to reflect on the idea of cinema as something fading from our current landscape. One of the overall themes of our studio, “the ephemerality of cinema-going,” resonated strongly throughout this project. By combining personal reflections with visual and auditory elements, my work grapples with how cinema, as we once knew it, seems to be slipping away. The answers I collected from Saverio and myself reflected this change, from the physical, community nature of going to the cinema to the more convenient on-demand experience of watching films through streaming services. This change embodies the “death” or “transformation” of cinema-going.

The cinema is amazing but it honestly isn’t the same or as impactful as it once was when I experienced the big screen as a kid with the buzz and excitement of a shared community transformed by the story portrayed on the lights.

Blog Post 2

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In Weeks 1 and 2 of our studio, we embarked on two intriguing field trips: one to ACMI’s “The Story of the Moving Image” and another to explore the “lost” cinemas of Melbourne. These excursions provided rich opportunities to reflect on the concept of “phantom cinema” and the lingering traces left by cinema in its various forms.

The visit to ACMI was particularly fascinating, especially revisiting it after two years. The exhibit showcased the evolution of moving images, tracing cinema’s history from its inception to contemporary forms. What struck me was the multiplicity of the event referred to as the “death of cinema.” This notion aligns with the mythology of the phoenix, which rises from its ashes to be reborn. Cinema, too, has faced numerous “deaths”—from the advent of sound and colour to the rise of television, home video, and digital streaming. Each supposed death has led to a rebirth, transforming and adapting to new technologies and audience behaviours.

The exhibit’s portrayal of cinema’s resilience and adaptability made me ponder the concept of “phantom cinema.” Brian Jacobson, Veronica Paredes, and Christopher Hanson, in their introduction to “Deaths of Cinema,” argue that the medium undergoes constant reinvention, leaving behind ghostly traces of its past incarnations. At ACMI, this was evident in the interactive displays and archival footage, which conjured the ghosts of cinema’s history, reminding us of its ongoing evolution and survival.

The second excursion, exploring the “lost” cinemas of Melbourne, was equally enlightening. Visiting these sites revealed how cinema spaces have been repurposed, leaving behind physical and ghostly phantom-like traces of their former glory. One striking example was the cinema on Russell Street, which has been transformed into an apartment complex. This repurposing signifies a form of death for the cinema as a public entertainment space, yet it continues to exist in a new form.

In contrast, the cinema on Bourke Street, now a Chinese cinema, illustrates how these spaces can survive by adapting to different cultural contexts. Similarly, the two cinemas repurposed into theatres hosting popular plays such as ‘Wicked’ or ‘Moulin Rouge’ demonstrate cinema’s ability to evolve and remain relevant by embracing different forms of entertainment. These examples highlight the ghostly presence of cinema, where its past lives linger in the architecture and cultural memory of the city.

Reflecting on these excursions, I was particularly struck by the resilience and adaptability of cinema. The notion of “phantom cinema” became more tangible, as I saw firsthand how cinema spaces and the medium itself continually transform. The concept of multiple deaths and rebirths, as discussed by Jacobson, Paredes, and Hanson, resonated deeply with these observations. Cinema, much like the ancient phoenix, repeatedly rises from its ashes, finding new ways to captivate audiences and leave enduring traces.

In conclusion, the excursions to ACMI and the “lost” cinemas of Melbourne enriched my understanding of “phantom cinema” and the enduring legacy of the medium. They illustrated how cinema, despite facing numerous threats, continues to reinvent itself, leaving behind both phantom-like  and physical traces that shape our cultural landscape. These field trips underscored the dynamic nature of cinema and its ability to adapt and survive through changing times and technologies.

Reference:
Jacobson, B., Paredes, V. & Hanson, C. 2007, ‘Deaths of Cinema: Introduction’, *Spectator*, no. 27, pp. 5-8.