Tapes, Tapes, Tapes
Jordan and I have begun the process of digesting the footage from Made Crooked in script order. We've been bringing it into the system since a short time after wrapping principal, but I needed to step back from it and watch tapes without thoughts of cutting. Especially with this style of filmmaking - the strange hybrid of intentional, improviastional and documentary.
Personally, I like to let footage sit as long as possible before looking at it. It helps reduce my expectations of my original mental picture of what the film will look like. More often than not a director has to let go of his or her vision and adapt to what was captured. It is especially true in the case of Made Crooked as we are commited to not reshoot anything. We can't afford to open that can of worms for financial reasons primarily, but it also defies the spirit of the attempt to accept whatever happened as valid. This has been as much an exercise of trust and letting go as a filmmaking endeavor for me and, hopefully, the others involved.
Often when watching the tape I will start to express frustration at a camera angle or an actor's behavior. I quickly calm down and look at the possibilities, often finding that what is there works on a level more profound than my immediate expectation of meeting convention. Yet another case of only through limitation can there be creativity.
An example of this is that I would have a very specific idea of the scene in my head and in the script. But I didn't show the script to anyone aside from Jordan. I would then be in the scene as an actor. In the hot tub scene I have my back to the cameras, have made a choice to remain in one place and have communicated the blocking in such a way as to acheive a rough outline of what I wanted but left much up to chance. To compound the randomness, I assigned one camera to another part of the house. In my mind, that other camera would capture interaction of the family as they came and went outside to the hot tub. What we got was a lot of empty kitchen with the occasional passing through of a single family member. Watching it I had to suppress thoughts that I wanted it to be more chaotic and random. By dismissing that futile wish, I immediately saw the chaos of the separation of the family via its intense isolation. Their coming and goings were very random, which will be easily underscored by the intercutting of the exterior hot tub scene.
I discovered something else last night that has been pestering me for awhile. When David is in pajamas he wears glasses. The first night that the hikers stay, David searches the house for his children and fiance at bedtime. It turns out that he is alone in the house and that his family has gone outside with the strangers. He stands at a window and watches one with the kids. Then he goes to another window and sees the other with Rose. I was very drawn to this image before we did it, but even more so once seeing David through the camera. It had to do with his face and his glasses.
I also had this expectation of David to be more ruthless and tenacious. I didn't direct David in that vein, but I mentioned my surprise to him a few times. In the end I think the way he crumbles yet struggles to put a face on his fall from grace is wonderful. Still I had this more sinister impression nagging at me. Until last night when I realized that David reminds me both physically and thematically of Burt Lancaster in Sweet Smell of Success, one of my favorite films. J.J. Hunsaker wears horn-rimmed glasses and he's always sternly observing and finally spying on his sister, with whom he has a twisted protector relationship.
It really comes as a relief, as I'm finally able to throw off the subconscious association that has been been a hiccup in appreciating David's choices.
It's a very strange sensation to watch scenes from without that I experienced so intimately from within. It will be interesting to see how this affects the edit - whether things I felt within the scene but that didn't end up on camera will play. If the absence of something can thereby be communicated if given the space but not necessarily the specific image.
More will be revealed.
nc
Personally, I like to let footage sit as long as possible before looking at it. It helps reduce my expectations of my original mental picture of what the film will look like. More often than not a director has to let go of his or her vision and adapt to what was captured. It is especially true in the case of Made Crooked as we are commited to not reshoot anything. We can't afford to open that can of worms for financial reasons primarily, but it also defies the spirit of the attempt to accept whatever happened as valid. This has been as much an exercise of trust and letting go as a filmmaking endeavor for me and, hopefully, the others involved.
Often when watching the tape I will start to express frustration at a camera angle or an actor's behavior. I quickly calm down and look at the possibilities, often finding that what is there works on a level more profound than my immediate expectation of meeting convention. Yet another case of only through limitation can there be creativity.
An example of this is that I would have a very specific idea of the scene in my head and in the script. But I didn't show the script to anyone aside from Jordan. I would then be in the scene as an actor. In the hot tub scene I have my back to the cameras, have made a choice to remain in one place and have communicated the blocking in such a way as to acheive a rough outline of what I wanted but left much up to chance. To compound the randomness, I assigned one camera to another part of the house. In my mind, that other camera would capture interaction of the family as they came and went outside to the hot tub. What we got was a lot of empty kitchen with the occasional passing through of a single family member. Watching it I had to suppress thoughts that I wanted it to be more chaotic and random. By dismissing that futile wish, I immediately saw the chaos of the separation of the family via its intense isolation. Their coming and goings were very random, which will be easily underscored by the intercutting of the exterior hot tub scene.
I discovered something else last night that has been pestering me for awhile. When David is in pajamas he wears glasses. The first night that the hikers stay, David searches the house for his children and fiance at bedtime. It turns out that he is alone in the house and that his family has gone outside with the strangers. He stands at a window and watches one with the kids. Then he goes to another window and sees the other with Rose. I was very drawn to this image before we did it, but even more so once seeing David through the camera. It had to do with his face and his glasses.
I also had this expectation of David to be more ruthless and tenacious. I didn't direct David in that vein, but I mentioned my surprise to him a few times. In the end I think the way he crumbles yet struggles to put a face on his fall from grace is wonderful. Still I had this more sinister impression nagging at me. Until last night when I realized that David reminds me both physically and thematically of Burt Lancaster in Sweet Smell of Success, one of my favorite films. J.J. Hunsaker wears horn-rimmed glasses and he's always sternly observing and finally spying on his sister, with whom he has a twisted protector relationship.
It really comes as a relief, as I'm finally able to throw off the subconscious association that has been been a hiccup in appreciating David's choices.
It's a very strange sensation to watch scenes from without that I experienced so intimately from within. It will be interesting to see how this affects the edit - whether things I felt within the scene but that didn't end up on camera will play. If the absence of something can thereby be communicated if given the space but not necessarily the specific image.
More will be revealed.
nc
posted by Signore Direttore at 9:21 AM
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