Cine Medias Res

Disrespect for the Paying Audience

2012-01-27T20:03:00.000-08:00

I saw a major theatrical movie last night. It was not good, but it at least feels like it was made by a filmmaker, as a opposed to Haywire or Red Tails.

Anyway, I follow the director of said unnamed movie on twitter and I saw this exchange between a reviewer who positively reviewed the film, and the director:

Reviewer: "Odd how much ambiguity in film frustrates some people. Hopefully enough people see the right movie this weekend, so we can have that chat..."

Director: "Bro, they don't have to get it. In fact it would undermine something essential in me if they did. Bozos."

So let's get this straight: he doesn't want everyone to like his film, calls them bozos for not "getting it", and yet hopes his movie will do well.

Something is wrong with this equation.

GOALS 2012: Progress Report #3

2012-01-24T03:27:00.000-08:00

Accomplished:

1. I wrote 22.5 pages this past week.

2. I finished reading Kramer vs. Kramer

3. I watched "I Confess" in German (half-win)

Not Accomplished:

1. I didn't take any further steps to form my directing group

2. I didn't shotlist or draw any thumbnails after reading KvK

3. I didn't watch KvK silently.

This week:

1. I will write up to the fulcrum of my screenplay

2. I will write-out my vision for my peer-directing group

3. I will read another script

4. I will shotlist/thumbnail one scene

5. I will watch said movie with the sound off

____

I'm sort of in tunnel-vision mode now that I'm neck-deep in writing, which is why the directing-oriented tasks keep falling by the wayside. I'll try to make progress this week, but even if I don't, I will dive-in with gusto once I finish this script.

Goals 2012: Week #2

2012-01-17T14:21:00.000-08:00

Accomplished:

1. I finished the first act of my screenplay at 5am this morning. It sits at 38.5pages. And yes, I am ashamed.

2. I sketched out notes on my ideas for the peer directing group.

Not accomplished:

1. I did not read Kramer vs. Kramer

2. I did not sketch any thumbnails

3. I did not watch any movies silently

4. I did not contact anyone about the directing group

5. I wrote 29 pages this past week, but what worth is that when 14 of them should be cut?

This week:

1. I will economize the first act of my screenplay down to 30 pages max, though my goal is 25.

2. I will write at least the first two scenes of my script's second act.

3. I will read Kramer, sketch a shotlist, and watch it silently today

4. I will formally write-out my vision for the directing group, and send it to friends who'd be interested.

____

Give the snowpocalypse in Seattle this week, I may get more than those four things accomplished. We'll see.

GOALS 2012: Progress Report #1

2012-01-09T16:42:00.000-08:00

My well-worn hardcopy of ALIENS

Accomplished:

1. I've written 10.5 pages of my script's first act in the past week, bringing the total length to 18 pages.

2. I spent three days cutting and economizing, bringing the total page count down to 13 pages.

3. I read the first act of Kramer vs. Kramer

4. I have been comparing portions of Cameron's first and final Aliens drafts, to see how he economized a 134-page first draft down to the 105-page final draft. It's been reassuring to see that I've been using similar tactics of economy, at least in terms of writing description.

5. I have been talking to people about forming the weekly directing workshop...

Not accomplished:

1. But there are few people interested in the workshop who are at a skill level comparable to me. And only one of them is really serious about the craft.

2. I did not finish reading an entire script last week.

3. I did not sketch a single thumbnail

4. I did not watch any movies silently (though I did watch Finding Nemo in German at work, so that's kind of a half-win)

This week:

1. I will finish the first act of my screenplay

2. I will write a manifesto for the peer directing group

3. I will finish reading Kramer vs. Kramer

4. I will thumbnail a scene from Kramer vs. Kramer

5. I will watch KvK with the sound off.

6. I will continue to use Aliens two drafts as a reference point for economy

Goals 2012: The Goals Themselves

2011-12-30T20:27:00.000-08:00

My goals for 2012 are going to be realistic and achievable: 30 hours of craft-work a week, split between the two areas of the craft that I care about: story construction and visual storytelling.

I) Story Construction

I will finish writing my current feature script
I will write a second feature script
I will write a short film*
I will co-write a comic book miniseries
I will read a screenplay a week**
I will read Aristotle's Poetics and one add'l craft-related book

II) Visual Storytelling

I will form a weekly peer-oriented directing workshop
I will direct the noted (*) short film
I will take at least one improv class
I will thumbnail one scene from the noted (**) script each week
I will watch one movie with the sound off each week
I will finish reading Impro and read one add'l craft-related book

If I put my heart into it and be sensible about achieving the above, then by the end of 2012, I will have:

Written 2 feature screenplays
Written 1 comic book series
Written and Directed 1 short film
Read 52 screenplays
Thumbnail'd 52 scenes
Watched 52 movies silently
Read 4 craft-related books
Taken 1 improv class
Participated in 52 directing workshops

Looking over these, the ones that stand out to me as most important are naturally the ones that are in greatest danger of not happening. I will have to be extra vigilant to ensure that my goals involving PRACTICE & CREATION are put ahead of STUDY -- at least until such time as all three can be naturally executed in proper proportion.

Goals 2012: Where do I want to go as a storyteller?

2011-12-30T19:28:00.000-08:00

As in the previous posts, the following questions are taken from Scott Myers' Go Into The Story blog.

* Do you want just to write movies?

Movies are what it's always been about for me. If all I ever did was write for film, I would be okay with that. I have written a spec for fun, and I'm planning a comic with a friend who is an artist, but those are more for the exercise, the experience, than any true professional ambitions. I love telling stories with pictures, any medium, including theater, that does that, I will someday probably consider dabbling in. But it begins and ends with two hours of light projected onto a silver screen.

* Do you want to write and direct?

I absolutely want to direct. Directing and writing have always gone hand-in-hand for me. At first, I wanted to be a writer, but then I found myself taking over the camera when making movies with my friends. And at a certain point, I made a career decision that I didn't want to put my scripts in someone else's hands. As I began to devote concurrent study to visual storytelling and directing actors, my passion for it grew to encompass writing. Soon enough, the relationship reversed, and I wanted to write my own scripts because I didn't want my directing career to depend on waiting around for a script to direct. And so on.

Now, I've reached an equilibrium where I consider everything from the dreaming up the story all the way through to mastering the sound at the very end a vital and valid part of the storytelling process.

Apart from that, when I write for too long, I get cabin fever and need to get out on my feet and be physical, collaborating with designers and especially actors to craft the living movie. Once that invariably burns me out, I'm ready to hole back up in a room and stare at a screen for 16-hours a day, stitching the pieces together. Throwing that out, mixng and matching, and re-stitching until a complete, pointed motion picture exists.

And by then I'm burnt out on the story entirely and ready to go to work on a new one.

* Do you want to write and produce?

Right now, producing doesn't interest me. But I imagine that a lot of the logistical work I actually do when directing short films is technically "producing", so I imagine that at some point, being the control freak that I am, I'll take up producing my work as well. Probably to the same extent that Spielberg or Cameron produce their own work -- may I be so fortunate.

* Do you want to bounce between writing big commercial movies and character-driven indie films?

I don't distinguish between the two. I try to craft stories that require only what they need to be told. That said, a story about the final battle for the future of mankind? It probably needs a MASSIVE budget. A story that features a plummet from 150,000 feet to the bottom of the Pacific Ocean? Probably needs MASSIVE budget. You get the idea.

* Do you want to write screenplays and novels?

When I was 9 I thought I wanted to be a novelist. As I tried to write novels over the next few years, I slowly realized that the only reason I read novels was because my parents wouldn't let me watch movies on weeknights. So I'd read novels as a kid, and every night I'd watch them as movies in my head. Then when my friends and I started making short films in junior high, my writing naturally transitioned to visual storytelling. The rest is history.

* Do you want to carve out a niche writing specific types of movies or write across multiple genres?

As I mentioned in a previous post, science fiction is my bread-and-butter, war my stock-and-trade. Given that, it shouldn't be a surprise that my first feature script was a post-apocalyptic war story.

But as a rule I like stories of all kinds, provided they're well-crafted, emotional, and not self-indulgent dramatically or artistically. As broad as that is, it actually includes a very narrow range of films; the very best. Casablanca and Aliens are my two favorite films, and could they be any different? They're as unlike as two films can be except in one regard: the pitch-perfection of their level of craft. If every movie I made was a hybrid of those two, I still wouldn't complain. But I'm also drawn to the high adventure -- The African Queen was the first "classic" film that I fell in love with. I was age 8, home sick with food poisoning for three days. I watched it every damn day I was sick and rarely have I felt better. I love Hitchcock's witty suspense films: Rear Window, Notorious, NxNW, Shadow of a Doubt. John Ford's westerns, especially Stagecoach and The Searchers.

And I don't say "love" with empty respect, I'm not praising these films because I feel obligated to -- they really are the movies that fuel my passion.

It's also not a coincidence that mentioned Spielberg and Cameron earlier. The depth, breadth, and diversity of their careers has been an inspiration for me my whole life. They were the first two filmmakers I became consciously aware of. As much as I love "Star Wars", I came to it a later in childhood than most. Instead, the "Star Wars" of my childhood were "The Terminator", "The Abyss", and especially "Aliens". I had those three on constant rotation before I ever knew they were made by the same guy. Likewise, "Jaws", "E.T.", "Indiana Jones", and "Close Encounters". I was a Cameron/Spielberg fanboy many times over before my friends' love of "Star Wars" became infectious.

So if I had to pick, I'd want my career to be as malleable as those two great filmmakers' careers have been. I want to be able to jump from one genre to another as nimbly as Spielberg, and and embed myself in SciFi as deeply as Cameron has, before shifting gears to spy thrillers and historical action/romances. Do I want to make the next Titanic? No. But do I want to be the next Spielberg or Cameron? Not that either.

I want to take those influences and be the first Erik LeDrew.*

--------

*(special thanks to Jackie Chan for the assist)

Goals 2012: Where am I as a storyteller?

2011-12-30T16:56:00.000-08:00

The following bullet-point questions were taken from Scott Meyers' Go Into the Story blog. I am going to use them to help assess where I am as a storyteller.

* Is this where I want to be as a writer?

This is a difficult question to parse, because there are three different answers, depending on the context of the question.

In terms of craft, I am on the path I want to be on. I have a greater understanding of story and the telling than I ever have, thanks to the continued guidance of my mentor, and continued exposure to numerous great films. I also cannot underestimate how great it was have a partner to develop the story and outline of my current script. Not only was it creatively fruitful, but it taught me a great deal about myself, my strengths and weaknesses as a storyteller, and my creative process. I tend to like to work from the gut, but within a strong structural framework. For example, I must know that the path to story event 'C' starts with 'A', but I love improvising and spitballing my way through 'B'. This "dreaming" part of the process might be my favorite part. According to Gary Ross, it's by far the most important part to him. When it comes to actually writing, I'm a bit of a control freak with my prose, so it's all well and good that my writing partner eventually tapped-out. I think the dreaming was his favorite part too, so there's no hard feelings either way. I still run ideas and, now, pages past him as I work through things, but the bulk of the work now falls on me. I am okay with this.

In terms of process, I am not satisfied. I have not yet managed to make writing an organic part of my everyday life. It helps having zeroed-in on a specific project now, but for weeks I've been languishing, stressing myself out over my lack of concrete definitive progress. My natural state of being is to work in fits and starts, but that's not conducive to a healthy, productive lifestyle. So I want to change my process to a more regular one, with less periods of high- and extremely low-intensity, and a more consistent, persistent state of progress.

And In terms of my profession, I am not satisfied. I have a great job, I do not as yet have a career. And it is a daily struggle to keep from feeling like every hour not spent writing and directing movies, every hour not spent telling stories, is an hour wasted. I think this sense of personal failure would diminish if I could get onto a more regular writing schedule, even if I'm still not yet a paid "professional". But let's unpack that word "professional" anyway -- my mentor told me that a writer doesn't become a professional when he gets paid. A writer becomes a professional, and then gets paid.

* Am I writing what I want to be writing?

As a matter of fact, I absolutely am writing what I want to be writing. I am not writing as much as I want to be writing, but I am telling the stories I want to tell. I imagine this will become more of a problem the closer to the profession I get. But right now, the only thing I answer to over the context and content of my stories is my heart.

* What do I want to write?

if science fiction is my bread and butter, war stories are my stock-and-trade. All of my ambitions tend to point toward speculative ficton, including my two feature scripts and a few of the ideas for short films that I have. But in practice, the vast majority of my storytelling revolves around or derives from my experiences in combat. I know I can't keep milking it forever, and what's more, the further I get from literal war, the bet my storytelling seems to get. This is why it was such a challenge to hone down my love-in-war short film DESERTERS from its initial unsightly, ungainly, uninteresting 25 minutes to a reasonably sharp, pointed, emotional 7m45s.

Everyone says "write what you know" but I think it should be the other way around: "Know what you write." Storytelling requires objective construction as much as it requires a subjective "voice", and speaking just for myself, writing what I know is simply too dangerous a proposition for thematic and structural discipline. I get too easily overwhelmed.

This doesn't bode well for the war stories coming up that I have to write after my current script, but I hope that with practice, I'll get better at exerting control over the subjective elements of my stories and be able to tell something more conventionally "personal", because I do have a few war-derived stories that have crackerjack concepts.

* What do I need to write?

I need to write, simply put. I have a good instinct for drama and story that I am continually honing and learning to better hear, but it's all for nothing if I'm not writing regularly.

* Is there a particular story I have surfaced about which I am particularly passionate?

Right now, the SF script is the story demanding my attention -- it's strong, intense, and has something passionate to say. I'm not worried about losing interest, only in stalling-out from lack of progress. The war-derived story that I recently cracked the mythic structure for is up next -- that and a transcontinental Western are the two calling to me to be hashed-out and dramatized after the current one.

* Has something important happened in my life this year which has shifted my writing perspective?

This past year was an incredible eye-opener for me and truly humbling. There's really nothing quite like having no income and being in danger of eviction (we eventually made the last month's rent and moved out voluntarily, but we couldn't have made it another month) to really put the fear in you, so to speak. I really cannot emphasize how enormous an impact it had on my perspective of life, on how I see the poor and homeless, the hungry and the downtrodden. Between being unemployed, having my short film rejected by film festival after festival, and having a hard time excelling at freelance commercial gigs, it really brought me down to Earth. The simple fact of having no money, knowing that none was coming in, and having this great ambition to be a successful filmmaker one day -- the incongruity of it was enough to make me realize just how goddamn hard it is to succeed, and that nobody is going to give it to me. it was enough to make me realize that I have to put in the effort myself, and that it will be a long, hard road filled with blood, sweat, tears and broken dreams before I can achieve my goals.

A few things came to me this year, that proved to be particularly apt, namely, something Sam Raimi said on the Spider-man 2 commentary which I listened to a few months back, when I was just beginning to crawl out from under the weight of unemployment. Raimi said, "The thing about Hollywood is that no one wants to give you a shot. But if you go and prove you don't need a shot, suddenly everyone will want to work with you." That, more than anything, is what I'm trying to figure out how to achieve at this moment.

* Am I in touch with my Creative Self?

When I raved earlier about how great it was having a partner to develop the story for my current script, I think this was one of the things I was getting at. I started to notice that when I read an outline for a scene, or a sequence, that I'd get a gut reaction. I'd begin to feel either like I'd eaten something gross, or like I'd eaten something wonderful. It was sort of a hot/cold sensor, and I found the more we dreamt and spitballed, the more clearly I could read that sensor. I've come to the conclusion that this is my creative instinct, one that academia taught me to suppress. I've spent the last year getting back in touch with it and it feels glorious.

* What can I do to be a better writer?

Simply put, I need to STUDY and I need to PRACTICE, everyday. I'm naturally afraid of failure, so my first impulse is to revert to study when there is a conflict between the two. But I've done so much study and have only a few things to show for it, that I think I need to invert that relationship some, or at a minimum, find a happy medium.

I was caught in a pickle with this exact issue a few weeks ago; I didn't know whether I should commit to writing a script or to studying a particular filmmaker. Of course, my desire was to do both, but as I began to count up the hours I wanted to put into it, I began to realize it was pretty much impossible with a full-time job. So I turned to my writing partner, who at that point had ended his primary engagement with the project. His point was that when you practice, it forces you to synthesize everything you've learned up to that point, and even exponentially expands your understanding. And that is simply something I don't do enough of.

My takeaway is that, if study is my natural failsafe, I should direct my efforts into what is not my natural failsafe: PRACTICE -- and let study happen the way it naturally does anyway.

Goals 2012: Looking Back at 2011

2011-12-30T16:37:00.000-08:00

I'm going to write a series of posts that hopefully will set me on the path to making some achievable, realistic goals for the year of 2012. I'm going to start this first post with an assessment of what I did and did not accomplish in 2011.

Accomplishments:

I finished my short film DESERTERS, after an interminable post-production period.
I finished the outline for the feature film I was co-developing with my friend and sometimes-writing partner Matt Davis.
I began revisions of an ambitious script that I wanted to direct as my next short film, only to realize after a few days of work that the story would rather be a simple feature film than a dense short film. I set this aside until #2 is finished.
I clarified the mythic story shape for a feature I intend to write after #2 and #3 are accomplished.
I came up with an idea for a short, to fill the gap left by #3's ascension to feature status.
I expanded the structural shape of another short script I've had knocking around for a while. Either #5 or #6 will be my next short film.
And while this isn't a writing goal, it's a "goal" achieved nonetheless: After spending the second half of 2010 unemployed and the first half of 2011 bouncing from unemployment to unstable freelance gig to just being grateful for having any income at all, I finally landed a full-time job thanks to a good friend. The work is good, and although not directly related to storytelling, is close enough for the moment. The people are good. The place is good. And the pay ain't too bad either. I was the last person interviewed of dozens of people, so I'm very grateful to have landed this job and consider myself fortunate to have just barely made it in under the wire.

Non-accomplishments:

I'm not going to make a list, because that'd just be punishment, but I will point out a few things. I did not finish a single script this year -- short, feature, or otherwise. I did not completely revise any scripts this year. I did not make any new short films. And a part of me, while financially much more stable, doesn't feel any closer to having achieved my goals than I did a year ago.

That voice is unfair and inaccurate, but it does have a point: I didn't accomplish what I set out to accomplish a year ago. To be fair, I struggled just to find an income for the first half of the year, spent the summer training and getting used to my new job, and then only in the fall did things start to pick back up creatively.

In 2011, I moved the ball down the road. Not as far as I had hoped, but it did move forward, and that's important to remember.

In 2012, I will move it even further.

CAST AWAY: a response

2011-07-31T17:39:00.001-07:00

(NOTE: the following is in response to a series of exchanges on Brian McDonald's Invisible Ink blog here. I have posted my response in my blog because it FAR exceeds the character-limit on comments. Apologies for the hassle and, especially, to Brian for polluting the comments section of his blog.)

Hi LissBirds,

I want to respond to a few of the points in the comments of yours that Brian refrained from addressing. I don't want to do a point-by-point attack however, so I'm just going to address what I see as a few key points you make. One last note, before I begin: I recently read a draft of the script and re-watched the film, so I am speaking from a place of familiarity, for what it's worth.

With that said:

1) DOES CAST AWAY WORK FOR AN AUDIENCE?

You say that 90% of people should at least appreciate a well-crafted film, even if they don't "like" it. If you refer to Box Office Mojo, Rotten Tomatoes, and IMDB's aggregate scoring systems, you’ll see that they all rate CAST AWAY fairly highly.

Of about 4,000 votes on Box Office Mojo, 35.9% of users rate it an "A", with 47.7% of users rating it a "B". 83.6% positive is pretty close to your 90% figure. On IMDB, 124,000 users have rated CAST AWAY an average of 7.4/10, with 82% rating it 7 or higher. And on Rotten Tomatoes, 90% of critics rate it "fresh", while 650,000 users rate it an average of 80/100.

Those are pretty consistent figures for a film you say is poorly constructed, and that less than 90% of viewers like or appreciate (80% is close enough, may we all be so fortunate to hit even that).

However, I understand that some of these sites' users may be a thin spread of the movie-going populace at large -- and what the hell do critics know, anyway? -- so let's look at the box office as a sampling of general opinion upon release: CAST AWAY grossed $233 million dollars in the US, with a total global gross of over $400 million. That's a pretty big sum for a movie that has a poorly structured first act and no conflict. This gross was even more significant ten years ago when there was no Imax or 3D to jack up ticket prices.

If we look closer at the B.O., the most important indicator of popular opinion is the week-to-week drop in box office, a.k.a. the "word of mouth effect". If a movie is bad, for example, it should have a steep % drop from one week to the next in terms of gross. The better a movie is, in theory, the lower the drop from week-to-week and the higher the second weekend grosses are. According to IMDB, CAST AWAY's second weekend grosses were actually HIGHER than its first weekend grosses, which were themselves pretty good.

So CAST AWAY not only avoided a sharp drop-off typical of large openings, but it went up in revenue. This indicates a rare kind of word-of-mouth: the "you-gotta-see-this-now" variety that was more common in the 70s and early 80s than in the last 25 years.

For what it’s worth, CAST AWAY was also nominated for two Oscars -- but so was The Phantom Menace, so fuck that as a barometer for quality.

Even more important than all these abstract numbers, however persuasive, is what average movie-goers think of CAST AWAY today, a time when many are liable to forget a movie they disliked 10 years ago.

I'm not about to go do a man-on-the-street, but just in talking with, say, my mother, I can tell you that she remembers CAST AWAY very well. Usually when I ask my mother about a movie she saw a while ago, I only get a response after I’ve given her an extensive breakdown of its plot, and after I've given her a rundown of all its stars and the other movies they've acted in. In short, she is not a cinephile, filmmaker, or storyteller of any kind. But when I ask her about CAST AWAY, she has an emotional reaction to just the mention of the film's title. It is a movie that rides high in her consciousness, a space reserved only for movies like SHAWSHANK REDEMPTION, CASABLANCA, and HOUSE BUNNY.

But who cares about some lady's opinion, when we're talking about Art, right?

2) IS CAST AWAY POORLY STRUCTURED?

Being that this is Brian's blog, let's do him the courtesy of at least evaluating the film on his terms. Brian's definition of the three acts is as follows:

"ACT 1 -- Tell 'em what you're gonna tell 'em";

"ACT 2 -- Tell 'em";

"ACT 3 -- Tell 'em what ya' told 'em".

He simplifies this further to: "Proposal", "Argument", "Conclusion".

Act 1, "The Proposal": CAST AWAY begins by telling us this is a story about a man named Chuck Noland (“C. No land”, if you like) whose personal life suffers because of his intense commitment to a job that demands things always be on time. He does not extend this intensity to his personal life, so his commitments to his loved ones suffer. “A man-obsessed with FedEx making good time, fails to make good on his own time” is one way you could word CAST AWAY’s dramatic proposition. Brian's blog outlines the many ways in which the film's first act dramatizes this idea.

The first act ends with Chuck *choosing* to leave a family dinner and board a doomed plane. He even delays a marriage proposal (one of life’s greatest commitments) so that he can fulfill the commitments of his job. This is not an individual living a balanced life.

Act 2, "The Argument": Chuck must pay the price for his decision, and *the storytellers choose to exact this price* by stranding him on a desert island. No, the setting does not matter, not really. The setting could be a Russian Gulag, it could be the moon. What matters is that the setting fulfill the same circumstances: Is Chuck alone? Is he cut-off completely from the loved ones that he neglected? Does he "have all the time in the world" to reflect on this? And lastly, your question, is there conflict to drive the story forward?

To all of these I answer, yes, yes, yes, and hell yes.

Once on the island, Chuck must fight for every minute he is alive. This fight is humanity’s most primal conflict: "Man vs. Nature". At the same time he is fighting tooth and nail to survive, he is also wrestling with his old way of life, his fears for his loved ones, and what they must be going through on his behalf. While Man vs. Nature is the most primal conflict, this internal conflict is the most elevated: "Man vs. Himself".

It is absurd to say that CAST AWAY has "no conflict". I think what you and Mr. Truby mean to say is that there is no *interpersonal* conflict: "Man vs. Man". This is only one form of conflict, and to limit your definition of conflict to just this one variation is a) depriving you of many great stories and b) a mistake.

Act 3, "Conclusion": Chuck has paid the price for his decisions and his new way of living must be put to the test.

This act comprises Chuck’s attempts to reintegrate with society as he revisits all the people he left behind. It focuses on showing him (and us) the ways in which his disappearance, as a direct result of his decision to board that plane, has damaged the relationships that he has learned to value most. In many cases, these relationships are damaged in ways that are beyond repair. Because of these broken relationships, Chuck suddenly has no incentive to continue practicing the lesson he learned on the island. The climax of the film is a test of Chuck's new way of life: can he hold fast to this balanced way of living, when his reasons for changing are no longer present?

The film answers this question during Chuck's monologue (you know the one), and then gives us a short series of scenes that show us how he sticks to his new way of life for no other reason than that it is the right way to live. Only then do we see that he has truly “learned his lesson”.

CAST AWAY is tightly structured -- but who cares about good craft when our hero has no "flaw"?

3) IS C. NO LAND A FLAW-LESS CHARACTER?

In response to one of your comments, Brian raised the question as to whether it's possible for a well-crafted film to be either plot-driven or character-driven. I hope to answer this while discussing Chuck's character.

Chuck is a flawless character -- but I mean that in the complimentary sense because he is flawed to the extent that his "problem" is exactly what it needs to be to tell the story the tellers wanted to tell. Let's use Rod Serling's principle (via Brian) that "THEME determines CHARACTER and then on to PLOT".

If this is a story whose theme is that it is important to slow down and appreciate the life we have and those we share it with, then what better character to embody that than someone who is unable to do so -- a character whose use of his time is weighted so heavily on the side of his professional life, that he has no time for his personal life? If this character is to learn this lesson and be tested by the end of the story, then the plot would dictate that something needs to happen to him to force this change. As I said before, it could be being sent to prison, it could be crash landing on the moon. As long as the character makes the decision that incites the story's primary action, it doesn't really matter whether it's an act of god or act of man.

What is even more important than how the character gets IN to the scenario, is how the character gets OUT of the scenario. And to get off the island, Chuck does everything he humanly can, going far beyond anything we would consider a reasonable course of action in our "everyday" world. He consigns himself to almost certain death on the open ocean, just because the slim hope of escaping back to his loved ones became more important than living another day without them.

I'm sure you can see the chain of construction here, how the theme of CAST AWAY determined its character, which in turn determined its plot.

Brian's question regarding plot-driven vs. character-driven films was a trick question. The answer is that stories must be THEME-DRIVEN. The theme determines everything -- what the character's defining problem is, what events must occur in order to resolve their problem, what the supporting arguments ("subplots") should be in order to construct a well-rounded argument, and how that character’s growth should be tested. Theme goes further, it also helps us determine whether this should be a “guiding light” type of story, one where we’re shown how we can change our lives for the better, regardless of how tough things get. Or whether it should be a “cautionary tale”, where we’re shown the dangers of not changing our harmful ways. CAST AWAY is a "guiding light" story.

Theme is the engine that powers construction. Characters are chassis only.

4) WHAT ABOUT "BACKSTORY"?

As for backstory, an audience only needs to know a character's backstory to the extent that they know enough to understand the character's actions. In FINDING NEMO, we're given the opening scene for several reasons, but it's hardly "backstory". Reason 1: so that we don't see Marlin as a character unworthy of our sympathy. For us to sympathize with a character who has such an exaggerated dysfunctional relationship with his son, we have to know how this came about. Likewise, in CASABLANCA, Rick is a bitter, cutthroat character -- until we know that he was once idealistic and happy, before the love of his life broke his heart. From then on, we understand Rick's actions, we sympathize with his pain, and we recognize his attitude not as villainous but as that of a deeply wounded person. Because we recognize this, we want him to heal.

CAST AWAY's hero is a different character. His flaw is essentially being a "workaholic". Workaholism is pervasive in modern culture, and it's not like he's a workaholic gangster or some other profession that is a real stretch for the average viewer to relate to. Instead, Chuck is a normal, hard-working American. All we need to know is that he works excessively hard, and how that lifestyle impacts the rest of his life, that's all.

And for 50 million viewers, that was enough.

5) MISCELLANY

The points you offer towards the end of your last comment -- your proposal that the act two material be made into "backstory" -- are the story you think you see, not the one that is there. This is a story about a man too busy to appreciate the life he has, who is suddenly stranded on a desert island and forced to survive with the knowledge that he may never see them again. The "story questions" you raise are fine questions -- but not for this story. If those are questions that drive YOU and YOUR sense of story, then be a storyteller, and TELL IT. It's not for us to tell another storyteller that their story wasn't the "right" story, only that they did or did not succeed in telling the story they wanted to tell (or, as is more often the case, that to succeed they have to want to tell a story in the first place).

Is CAST AWAY as good as the all-time greats? I don't know, maybe not. But if it warrants the comparison in the average viewer’s mind -- HOUSE BUNNYs not withstanding – and the minds of people far more skilled than you or I, then we probably owe it more than a cursory dismissal.

You may disagree entirely with the interpretation of the facts, you may just decide this film simply isn't for you, or you may just ignore me completely. But before you do any of that, I highly recommend you read the script (Google is your friend) and take one last look.

I hope this helps or, short of that, at least kicks the hornet's nest.

Best, Erik LeDrew

The Reason for Horror (and why it's so bad lately)

2011-03-06T21:28:00.000-08:00

Aliens' final shot: Ripley and Newt can dream again

NOTE: the following was originally written as a response to a friend's blog. But considering how infrequently I blog here, I decided to capitalize on my splurg. There has been some editing for clarification.
_________

As a former-and-sometimes-still horror and SF movie fanatic, I no longer find the perverse pleasure in grueling movies and books to the extent that I used to. I will cop to once in a while watching a bloody-as-fuck B-movie and getting kicks out of it, but for the most part, I demand my horror to be purpose-driven.

Horror is essentially a descent into hell, in the classical sense. Whether the story is "The Descent" or "Black Swan", they're horrific "descents" of one kind or another.

The thing of it is, 99% of horror movies, including those two, only stole the superficial aspects of the classical Descent into the Land of the Dead. They didn't steal the purpose a Land of the Dead serves in a story. It is this missing purpose that makes those old stories tick, and it's why many of us have crawled to the bottom of that genre's barrel, and ultimately find it so lacking.

In The Epic of Gilgamesh, the hero travels to the underworld to find his dead friend Enkidu. Once there, he meets Enkidu but cannot bring him back. Instead, Gilgamesh is given great wisdom (read the epic yourself to see what wisdom, exactly). He brings this wisdom back and shares it with his people. This is the purpose of the Land of the Dead. Classically, the dead always possess greater wisdom than the living, so if we are to go there, we go there only for wisdom. No one goes to hell because it's fun. You endure that hardship to find something to bring back with you. You cannot return from the Land of the Dead without wisdom. The struggle to enter and exit the Land of the Dead is so great that you will gain wisdom simply through attrition. And once gained, is your responsibility to share it with the living. To gain but not to share this wisdom is selfish.

To think of it another way, when life sucks we frequently call it "meaningless" or "futile" -- we're trying to find the wisdom in our own Descent and have yet to find it. Some people spend their entire lives searching for that wisdom. And many of them return to share it, once found, whether through movies, books, short stories, or Alcoholics Anonymous.

But when fictions like a Saw or a Black Swan or even, yes, a Hurt Locker ("war is hell", right?), take us to the Land of the Dead, the unspoken contract for enduring that experiential pain is that we will in return be given great wisdom. But none of these movies fulfill their end of the contract. Even listen to how most of their makers' talk about them -- it's always "I wanted to put the audience through X" or "I love fucking with people". Where do you think these expressions come from? Not from nowhere. To be taken to hell and not given wisdom is to "be fucked with".

There are really only five horror films of any kind that truly try to fulfill this contract: "Aliens", "The Exorcist", "Poltergeist", "Rosemary's Baby", and "The Thing".

"Aliens" takes us to hell in order to show us how we can conquer our deepest, darkest fears. This is not meta-text. It is right there on the screen for everyone to see. The movie opens with the hero having a nightmare. She tries hard not to return to their source (the Land of the Dead). And when she does, it is because she literally can't sleep. Once in the Land of the Dead, she finds a Jungian Innocent in need of protection. The hero now has cause to conquer her fear, beyond her own well-being. The hero and innocent even bond over how their nightmares have come true. When the hero finally faces her fears to rescue the innocent, she literally descends through flame straight into the heart of the story's Land of the Dead. And the final dialogue exchange of the film is from the Innocent: "Can I dream again?" The hero answers, "I think we both can." Shot of them sleeping peacefully. Boom -- done. Through facing her fears, she defeats them and inspires others to do the same.

Many people have had nightmares because of "Aliens", but not a single person is disgusted by it the way so many are by "Saw" or "Hostel". No one feels guilty or corrupted for having sat through it.

"The Exorcist" offers an even more punishing experience, but it still provides wisdom and catharsis such that by the end of it, you're exhausted, but you're not sickened. And remember, this is a movie in which a 9-year-old girl masturbates with a crucifix. We're not sickos, so rough as it is, how does that not leave us feeling ill and dirty? Because on an emotional level, we understand that we've gained something from experiencing it. And this isn't a religious "God exists" kind of wisdom. In fact, for all the evidence the film gives us, "God" may never have existed to begin with in this story's world. All the good, positive action in "The Exorcist" is carried out by simple people, struggling to overcome their faults in order to defeat this ultimate evil. "God" gives them no strength except that which they already possess. Their strength always comes from within, out of love of a child or compassion for suffering. For all "The Exocist" 's supernatural aspects, the film is a completely humanist experience. It takes us to the very depths of hell and brings us back to the Land of the Living, wisdom in hand. Wisdom we can use here, whether there's an afterlife or not.

The other three of those five films I've mentioned don't come as close to fulfilling their contracts as "Aliens" or "The Exorcist", but of them "Poltergeist" probably comes the closest. It's wisdom doesn't have the depth or density the other two provide, but it doesn't take you as deep into hell as them either, so its wisdom is still more or less proportional. "Rosemary's Baby" and "The Thing" offer regressively smaller glimpses of wisdom. But considering that wisdom is something literally nothing else even tries for anymore, that's still saying something.

"We will endure pain in exchange for reward" is a contract between producer and consumer that is thousands of years old. But when pain becomes the reward, as in movies other than those five, the story/experience is corrupt and malicious. As a society, we give tacit approval of mild S&M behind closed doors, but no one would say a person who likes having their flesh flayed for no other reason than the experience itself, is a well-adjusted person. And we certainly wouldn't appreciate being exposed to it in public.

Pain is not a reward. The further into the Land of the Dead, the greater the wisdom must be. This is how it has been and must always be.

Daily Productivity Blog #11

2011-02-22T02:01:00.001-08:00

Today, I took the following actions in pursuits of the cinematic storyteller's craft:

1) I worked on the edit for my friend-colleague's theatrical project. I didn't accomplish as much as I ought to have, but some is better than none.

2) My co-writer and I put in three hours' work on our feature, after being stalled on the inelegant but apparently unavoidable structure of our film's teaser. I went into idiot-savant mode and tore through our third act, looking for anything and everything that might require any kind of connective tissue in the first act. My co-writer classified my savant-isms and then we went to work analyzing them. This enabled us to do some wonderful refining to the connecting points in our 1st and 3rd acts -- which is a milestone of sorts, being at the stage we can definitively state that we're refining our outline. Of course, our second act has an enormous amount of work that needs to be done to it directly, but because so many of our refinements are about alleviating the burden on our 2nd act, our 1st/3rd act work actually sometimes doubles as indirect 2nd act work as well.

3) And I watched THE QUIET MAN, which is a phenomenal film. But I am conflicted over how Ford deals with the boxing back-story, primarily because it seems to me we should be understanding why Thornton won't fight for his wife so that we can feel his internal conflict as it reaches its boiling point. Instead, we're left on the outside for the better part of the film, observing a man who seems frustrated and conflicted, but being unable to connect with why he feels this way. Ultimately, it makes Thornton look like a cipher at best, an unsympathetic coward at worst -- until, that is, we're given his backstory. It just doesn't make any narrative logic, given Ford's storytelling preferences and presumed intentions, that he would deliberately make this film 1/2 observational "character study", 1/2 passionate romance. I don't want to kill one of my heroes, but I do think this may be a mistake. If nothing else, I think it's telling that the backstory has to be revealed on the back of the box in order to sell the film's story coherently. It's no SEARCHERS or STAGECOACH, but it's still a good film.

4) The making-of also gave me what is likely the best, simplest acting lesson I've ever been given: "[Maureen O'Hara] looks me in the eyes... [and] makes me act by making me react." -- John Wayne
________

Hasta manana.

Daily Productivity Blog #10

2011-02-20T02:53:00.000-08:00

It is so much easier to do this regularly when I'm working a regular schedule.

I've accomplished much since I last wrote in here -- so much that I'm not even sure what I've already mentioned or not.

To catch things up, I'll mention the following:

1) I cut my short film to pieces and stitched it back together. It's now a lean, mean motherfucker. It still has some residual issues, but the key is that I cut out 1/4 of the material and it still works. from 25minutes down to 17 -- and it makes sense that it works at 17, because the script was 17 pages. Who knew?

2) My co-writer and I have continued our trend of radical albeit essential revisions to our feature. It goes well. Today we re-visited our teaser and I'm quite happy with it now. It's not locked yet, but it's a step-and-a-half in the right direction.

3) NEMO is truly brilliant. The more I study it's construction, the in awe of it I am. Say what you will about it's family-friendly-ness, but it's made by some incredibly smart, skilled, and talented people, working at the top of their form to tell a story they felt in their bones. May I strive for a story so well-constructed, anthropomorphism or no.

4) I revisited POLTERGEIST yesterday and that was an eye-opening experience. My god, I hadn't seen the film in at least ten years and it's incredible how it holds up. Hooper drops the ball in the finale with the real estate boss and considering that was the only portion of filming Spielberg wasn't present for, I guess I'm not surprised. POLTERGEIST is nothing like any of the Tobe Hooper films I've seen, and is clearly a through-and-through Spielbergian effort. I can't believe that man was ghost-directing (pardon the pun) POLTERGEIST at the same time he was working on E.T. That's incredible. I also had an epiphany about Spielberg's visual sensibility, but I've neither properly digested said epiphany yet, nor would I be up for regurgitating it if I had.
______

Night, all.

A lesson in humility

2011-02-16T00:54:00.001-08:00

"The humble improve" -- Wynton Marselis

Not wasting time by learning from less than the best is common sense, but the temptation is always there to lower your standards, or see if you can see what other people see in pieces of shit -- such as my recent [redacted] revisit.

I have to admit, in this flawed spirit, I recently watched what I'd always assumed was a bad '80s B-horror film. I had never seen this film, however. Well, I watched and it is in the final summation a bad 80s horror film. The story is garbage, the performances not particularly good. But -- the visual storytelling, while not great, was still pretty impressive considering the kind of movie this was for. While watching this above-par-for-its-ambitions movie, I found myself realizing that I likely could not tell a story that well. For all the credit I sometimes give myself, I couldn't do better than a bad 80s horror film. This was humbling. What was more humbling was that I immediately looked up the director's filmography thinking, "Surely, this guy must've moved on to something because he at least shows promise, if not mastery here." His IMDB page was empty. There or four DTV flicks, a low-rent reality TV show. Then nothing.

If this guy who directed what must've been received as surprisingly solid when it came out in 1987, couldn't make a career out of it -- then what does that say about me, who probably couldn't do that well at this point in time?

Now, it's possible there are a hundred and one reasons why the guy went nowhere -- addiction, trauma, disinterest -- but the thought was still humbling. It reminded me that making a decent film is not enough. You have to make the best possible film you can -- and even then, continue to better yourself.

It made me realize how rare a Duel or a Terminator are straight out of the gate. Either of which I'll be lucky to make at any point in my career.

Daily Productivity Blog #9

2011-02-14T05:59:00.000-08:00

The weekend.

Saturday I took the following actions in pursuit of the cinematic storyteller's craft:

1) My co-writer and I put in hours on our feature. Definite progress.

2) I edited my short film, cutting together the final scene that was lost when FCP crashed a few posts ago. It's better now. Much. I'm glad I got a "re-do".

Sunday I took the following actions in pursuit of the cinematic storyteller's craft:

1) My co-writer and I put in three hours on our feature. We have locked the 'Kansas" component of our first act. And worked out the entire arch of the mentor's supporting plot. We are ready to begin "Oz" Tuesday (Monday being Valentine's, we won't be working. But not because he has a date, poor bastard. I'm the married one.)

2) I spent ten hours editing my short film. I made some very savage cuts to the thing. The good news is it's now structurally sound. Act breaks all fall at the points in time where they should. The mini-epiphany I got out of this, however, is that not every scene can be approached as a complete film. That's good in theory, but then you work your way into the scene the same way you work your way into the film. Entire films and maybe even individual acts can suffer a gentle opening, a gradual easing into the piece, but scenes cannot. The majority of my cutting was removing these elegant albeit time-consuming entrances.. It's possible I've taken out too much though. We'll see in the AM. The version in question is 17 minues, 41 seconds long. If brevity is truly the soul of wit, then it should unquestionably be better than the 25 minute version.

3) Daily story study: I will read a fable.

4) Daily visual storytelling study: I will study Rockwell.

5) Daily discipline: see above.

Daily Productivity Blog #8

2011-02-12T04:19:00.001-08:00

An Incredible family dinner. The extraordinary in the context of the mundane.

Today I took the following actions in pursuit of the cinematic storyteller's craft:

1) I worked cutting / post-ing video.

2) I met with one of my mentor's for a quick chat which turned into an epic talk (as they always tend to do). Lesson of the evening: " 'Incongruity' is a powerful took. Making the sweet looking be mean, or the powerful-looking be meek can be either funny or scary, depending on execution. But it almost always works as a way to engage people." [Paraphrased] Brad Bird used this as his guiding principle in THE INCREDIBLES: every amazing thing is grounded in something ordinary, every ordinary thing is grounded in something amazing. What incongruity does is give you immediate contrast, as immediate as contrast within a single character. This contrast gives you a stick by which to measure the extraordinary, it provides context. Incongruity is simultaneous context.

3) I watched THE CRAZIES again and confirmed that it is, in fact, pretty damn okay. Outer boundaries, connective tissue, and visual storytelling -- it's refreshing to see some actual craft put to work. Imperfect, but entertaining and competently crafted.

4) I watched MASTER & COMMANDER, the far superior high-seas adventure film and the true best picture of 2003. Its script-writing isn't as focused as it could be, but the "lesser of two weevils" lesson is pretty well elucidated through the key events of the film. The surface writing is sharp, the acting exceptional, the visual storytelling gorgeous. Possibly the most unfortunate franchise non-starter of the last decade. Besides M&C, there's really only PIXAR, Ken Burns, and THE KING OF KONG to remind us that anything even happened those ten years.

5) I fell asleep. And woke back up to blog. (Okay, not really. My wife needed to be picked up from work. I have simply used this as a second chance to blog tonight).

6) I walked a mile to meet my mentor, and then back to work to check on a render, then 3.5 miles home. That's 5.5 miles. Not bad.

7) Daily story study: I will read a fable.

8) Daily visual storytelling study: I will study Rockwell.

Daily Productivity Blog #7

2011-02-10T23:46:00.000-08:00

This one's going to be short: no grand epiphanies. That and I'm fading fast.

Today I took the following actions in pursuit of the cinematic storyteller's craft:

1) I worked a six-hour shift editing video.

2) I saw BLACK SWAN with my family. Moving on...

3) I put in two hours' work with my co-writer on our feature, even though we were/are both frazzled at the end of a long week. We did not have any revelatory break-throughs, but we did make incremental and definitive progress: we worked out the first real sequence of the body of the film. It's not half-bad, and definitely better than our previous notion of how we'd begin. Believe me, we're doing our damnedest not to bore you folks.

4) Daily visual storytelling study: I'll study some Rockwell.

5) Daily storytelling study: I'll read a fable.

6) Daily discipline: I wrote a blog.
_______

'Night, all.

Daily Productivity Blog #6

2011-02-10T05:09:00.001-08:00

Today I took the following actions in pursuit of the cinematic storyteller's craft:

1) I worked all day.

2) I walked three miles from work to my edit bay.

3) I took a still frame of what I would consider to be the anchor image in each scene of my short film. I arranged them in Photoshop and created what is in effect a comic book out of them. I shuffled them around. I cut scenes. I arranged them in chronological order, reverse chronological order, hyper-anachronological order. You get the picture. I may have found a structure that works. It works on paper at least. But after working into the wee hours of the morning when I have to get up and put in a few hours at work tomorrow, I actually feel rather dissatisfied. I completely re-cut the film's sex scene and I'm not sure I like it. At all. But my time had run out if I'm to get any sleep tonight and so I left the new verson of the film compressing with a bitter taste in my mouth... (cont'd at bottom)

4) I'm going to study Rockwell if it's only a fleck of paint.

5) I'm going to read a fable.
__________
(cont'd) ...so I'm going to go brush my teeth now.

Daily Productivity Blog #5

2011-02-08T23:54:00.000-08:00

Chess legend Bobby Fischer

Day 5 in a row (mostly). How long does it take to form a habit?

Today I took the following actions in pursuit of the cinematic storyteller's craft:

1) I returned two prop guns to the man who was kind enough to lend them to my short film. Way overdue, but better late than never. Because he's such a boss gentleman, I'll give him a shout-out here: Shawn Anderson, a true G&E mensch. Seek him out if you're looking for a gaffer/key grip in the Seattle area. He has a grip truck at reasonable rates.

2) My co-writer and I finally managed to cram in a few hours' long overdue work on our feature script and we managed to accomplish quite a bit. It's really kind of amazing how much shit you can get done when you implement a deadline, however vague, to put a sense of urgency in your work. We made some significant structural changes tonight, locked others in solid, and discovered the nature of the four primary relationships in our film. This discovery necessitated us first admitting that one particular character was a cipher, and not in a good way. Once admitted, everything pretty much locked into place almost instantly. We had to talk it out, but it was amazing how clear the relationships became once we copped to a problem.

3) I watched about a 1/2 hour of John Ford's THE QUIET MAN, and until the later script work was done, I didn't expect anything to rival the revelation that came from watching that movie. I had no idea, til now, that the scene Elliot mirrors in E.T. when he lets all the frogs go, is the beautiful and bold first kiss between John Wayne and Scarlett O'Hara. Once it came up, it was an instant, gut recall: I immediately saw the scene playing on the TV that ET's watching, and Elliot reenacting it. What's truly miraculous about this remembrance is that I haven't seen E.T. in maybe a decade (an error I aim to soon correct). A recall so instantaneously of a film last seen so long ago is a two-fold testament to the iconic power with which Ford staged and filmed the scene in THE QUIET MAN, as well as to the emotional homage Spielberg staged for E.T. It's no Tarantino/Rodriguez ape-ing, it's an honest-to-god rearticulation of that scene for his movie's own emotional purpose. That's how you pay respect. May I have the skill, fortune and sense to do the same, should I ever require an homage. By the way, Republic Pictures' transfer on their QUIET MAN "Special Edition" DVD is easily the worst I've ever seen. Handheld bootlegs re-scans of ALIENS VS PREDATOR in Iraq had better color fidelity and sharper focus. Get on it Criterion!

4) As I was leaving my old edit room tonight, after the 2 hours of story-breaking, I had a sort of revelation about the script-to-production ratio. I was thinking about how my co-writer and I have been working on our story in various forms since the end of July 2010, minus two months we took off so I could focus on reshoots for my short film. Still, with the schedule we've mapped-out for the remainder of our scripting process, by the end we will have put over 15 months of work into the script (at an average of 15 hours' work per week). Surely, this time-span would be comparable to any actual production of the film, from prep- through post-. So let's say that the script-to-production ratio of this film -- should we be so lucky -- is 1 : 1. I then compared this to what the going ratio is on my short film, which will probably end up somewhere in the neighborhood of 1 : 20. There are so many problems I'm having to fix with reshoots and clever editing, that could have easily been fixed at the script stage. Now, I'd like to mention that the first iteration of that short film was my graduating thesis project and I was on an incredibly tight deadline in an academic environment that was at times unsupportive of narrative filmmaking, at others out-right disdainful. And I will also say that the long editing and reshoots process has been extremely educational for me, especially with respect my evolving appreciation of the malleability of visual storytelling. All that said, DESERTERS will be good, but it will be a much costlier and harder-fought "good" than had I taken the time to get the script right. This is not a regret, so much as a cost/benefit analysis. I also think this is true of CAVITY, the last feature script I wrote. If we consider the drafting of it as the actual "production" of the script, and the outlining as the "writing", then that process was probably more like 1 : 100. Had I spent at least half as much time "writing" CAVITY, I wouldn't have to do so much narrative tapdancing and "reshooting". The lesson here is one of the oldest: Proper Planning and Preparation Prevent Piss-Poor Performance. CAVITY is 200 pages long and took me a week of outling and three months to script. On my current script, my co-writer and I have been working eight months on our outline, and don't plan to type a page of script until sometime in late summer/early fall. It will be between 100 and 110 pages. Lesson-learned, bitch.

5) I wrote a blog.

6) I will read a fable.

7) I will study Rockwell.

8) I will go to bed by 12:30.
________

Rock 'n' roll.

Daily Productivity Blog #4

2011-02-08T01:50:00.001-08:00

A flawless scene. Still from John Ford's Stagecoach.

Today I took the following actions in pursuit of the cinematic storyteller's craft:

1) I worked all day. Getting paid to cut & assemble video still carries a luster even though my work for them is going on four weeks.

2) I stayed late at work. I'm giving this it's own number, because staying late is its own achievement.

3) I applied to a second job for editing. Fingers crossed.

4) Though tonight was a work night for our script, my co-writer and I were buggered by a sudden domestic problem I had to take care of and so were unable to devote much time to our script. However, we still managed to talk over a connective tissue issue (say that five times fast) involving our villain and hero's final exchange and how to best illustrate their mirrored qualities: paths not taken, regrets, an apology too late, etc. My references for this were to the "Southern Gentleman" in STAGECOACH and Amon Goethe in SCHINDLER'S LIST (which has been our chief reference for the villain all along, in addition to Archibald Cunningham from ROB ROY). Matt brought up the end of KOTOR -- a game I've never played, despite being a huge BioWare fan due to MASS EFFECT -- and it seems to be perfect reference. As he describes it, it's an even better emotional articulation of the idea than what is done in STAGECOACH. There the idea, while sound, is truthfully one of that gargantuan film's very few shortcomings. But it still sorta works. Our particular notion of implementing that idea is solid, it just needs finessing. Suffice to say, if we can make you cry when Hero and Obstacle exchange their final words, then our job will have been done very well indeed.

5) I walked (most of the way) home from work.

6) I studied Rockwell.

7) I will read a fable.

8) I am calling it a night as early as possible.
__________
Good night, world.

Daily Productivity Blog #3

2011-02-06T23:50:00.001-08:00

I failed to blog last evening, so I'll just consider this one a "weekend blog".

Saturday:

1) I worked for 5 hours with my co-writer on our feature script. We met our goal for the session: resolve the Outer Boundaries / Teaser issue helped in part by reading Finding Nemo's script earlier in the week.

2) I met my former neighbor for a few beers and talked movies for two hours. It was a true discussion, not just chit-chat.

Sunday:

3) I had a two-hour meeting with my short film's sound designer/composer to get the post- ball rolling.

4) Unfortunately, my second action taken Sunday in pursuit of the cinematic storyteller's craft was an attempt to deal with and overcome failure. Final Cut crashed on an edit, corrupting the file, and the auto-save vault had been inactive for the past two weeks. I lost a considerable amount of work because I wasn't adequately backing-up my files. So after a few good swings at a duffel bag, I settled in to re-cut a few of DESERTERS' scenes that were lost. It took me the rest of the day to do, but re-examining scenes I'd put to bed gave me an opportunity to play with some restructuring and to fine-tuning. There is one last "lost scene" that I didn't get to due to time, but it's the largest of the remaining ones and will have to wait until later in the week.

5) I'm watching A BUG'S LIFE and I can't believe I ever thought that ANTZ was a pimple on this film's phenomenal ass. The visual storytelling is clear, simple, and effective, and the drama is pretty good too. Considering Seven Samurai's story archetype has been an epic samurai action film, a badass Western, and a children's animated film, stories truly are in the telling. Most interesting about watching this is noticing how they've interpreted and diverged from the original material -- it's the same story, only not.

6) I will study a Rockwell.

7) I will read a fable.

8) And I will rack-out soon.
________

'Til tomorrow, signing off.

Daily Productivity Post #2

2011-02-05T04:49:00.000-08:00

Image by Jack Kirby

Today I took the following actions in pursuit of the cinematic storyteller's craft:

1) I worked a full day's worth of work. Video editing is not a bad way to earn a living, even if the hours are erratic.

2) I walked 3 miles to a meeting.

3) Said meeting was to catch-up and return favors to a friend and colleague who is in need of video edit mojo.

4) I promised to cut said friend/colleague a 30-second trailer of a past-production in order to to help win grant money to revisit it. I cut a 45-second trailer from her 55-minute show and it's pretty okay. Hope it gets the job done.

5) I had a very long and enriching conversation with my writing partner on why our ability to re-shape the world through our stories is a good and important thing. In short, there are two kinds of important stories, each kind every bit as necessary as the other: Cautionary Tales, i.e. "don't do this bad thing or this other bad thing will reult"; and what he and I called Aspirational Tales, i.e. "strive to live up to this good thing and just maybe this other good thing will result." After we both had a long, rough, stressful week, Aspirational Stories really seemed to be on our minds during this discussion. I may blog more later about this.

6) I had a long and (mostly) respectful argument with my former neighbor on Facebook about the state of modern film, and the movie producer-consumer relationship. I had a good analogy that I'll reprint here:

The onus should always be on the producer to deliver a quality product, not on the consumer to determine or define or contribute to its quality. It is the craftsman, the artisan who does the work so that the product can be appreciated and of service to the consumer for the money they paid.

A truly well-made chair does not require "some assembly", it comes fully formed: beautifully rendered, structurally sound, and lest we forget -- resplendently comfortable.

In this same way a good movie must arrive fully formed: beautifully lit and composed, structurally sound in both plot and image assembly, and ultimately comfortable to the audience. And don't confuse "comfortable" with "comfort food". Perapetia is comfort -- Oedipus, Hamlet, and The Godfather are comfortable because they generate catharsis through their release of dramatic tension.

These three different stories are products, fully-formed on delivery.

7) I studied some Norman Rockwell.

8) I read a fable.

9) I wrote a blog. Say it with me: Recursion's a bitch.

And done.

NEW RULE: Daily Post #1

2011-02-03T23:48:00.000-08:00

I've decided that, since this blog is going on FIVE YEARS OLD, I'll probably continue to futz around with it indefinitely so, what the hell, I may as well embrace it. Even if I don't really like the idea of being a "blogger", a label I just yesterday remarked to my co-writer as referring to "old codgers with nothing to say". Prejudice against their kind aside, depending on my mood I either have too many better and more important things to do than blog, or am too lazy. Probably a bit of both, with a dash of simply-not-having-anything-to-say.

But here's the rub: from now forward, I will post here each day, and each day I have nothing to say or am too lazy to say it, I will at least write a few short words on what I've done this day to move me closer to mastery of "the cinematic storyteller's craft" -- a phrase which, if the masthead at the top of my blog didn't give away already, is my motus operandi and shall henceforth and herewith etc. be used a shit-lot.

If it's phrasing bothers you, I suggest ending your readership here.

On with it:

Today I took the following actions in pursuit of the cinematic storyteller's craft:

1) I read 70 pages of FINDING NEMO's 140-page(!) script...and thanks to this, have very likely solved the first act "Outer Boundaries"/character context issue my co-writer and I have been dancing around for months now.

2) I worked a full day's work. Surprising, I know, but what's especially great about this is that I actually got paid to further my pursuit of the cinematic storyteller's craft -- in other words, I got paid to edit "some video". Still, pretty sweet. Bonus: lots of opportunities to practice Hitchcock's "Image Size" principle.

3) I walked the 3.5 miles from work to my apartment, partly to save money, partly because it was a nice damn night, and partly because my chairborne ass needed to move. Being "fit" is also what I would consider part of the "cinematic storyteller's craft".

4) I spent a few minutes discussing Finding Nemo and the O.B. issue with my co-writer even though he's sick, I'm exhausted, and it's a Thursday, which aren't big writing days for us. A few minutes, however briefly, are better than none.

5) I finished reading a draft of Mentor A's (I have two wonderful mentors! -- one of my precious few fortunes) third, forth-coming book on storytelling.

6) I'm going to bed before midnight!* A regular, healthy sleep-schedule, while inconvenient and probably rarely ever practiced, must still be aspired to.

7) I read a fable.

8) I wrote a blog. Recursion's a bitch.

....

I guess that's all, but eight concrete actions taken in pursuit of the cinematic storyteller's craft -- should I just capitalize this and get it over with? -- is pretty damn good for a day I'd kind of written-off as a productivity-loss. And that is exactly why I've decided on this daily "productivity blog": in case it's not obvious, I'm not doing this for you. You'll hopefully enjoy the result of my labors, but this? This "daily blog" is for me.

*Note: in taking the time to proof-read this post, it is now 35-minutes past midnight.

**Final thought: should I be so candid? WWJD? That's "What Would John (Ford) Do?" or alternately, "What Would James (Cameron) Do?". I certainly couldn't imagine sonuvabitch John Ford sitting around, publicly patting himself on the back for reading a few pages of a script.

So in the spirit of Mr. Ford and in honor of yesterday being his 115th birthday, I'll offer an alternate blog:

Fuck it.

DESERTERS trailer

2010-12-21T00:28:00.000-08:00

The trailer for my short film, pre-reshoots:

Be gentle.

DESERTERS is on final approach!

2010-12-03T00:12:00.001-08:00

Fight the fight!

Visual Storytelling: Three Goals

2010-11-22T10:27:00.000-08:00

Far be it from me, a humble student, to reduce the irreducible, to find order in chaos, to make rules out of random artistic inspiration -- but I'm going to give it the college try. For my own sake, if not for yours.

Before I continue with my thesis, let me first state that I base all of the below on three assumptions:

1) "Simplicity is the ultimate sophistication." -- Leonardo da Vinci
2) "Drama is communicating an intellectual idea on an emotional level." -- Brian McDonald
3) Your style is how you solve a given problem. -- Will Eisner
3.5) And that I'm not talking out of my ass.

I do believe this morning, while watching DIE HARD (1988) with the sound off, that I may have sussed-out -- or perhaps, merely recycled by synthesis -- what I will call "The Three Goals of Visual Storytelling". These apply to film most readily -- but I bet with any keen study of a given visual medium's better works, you'd find that the same goals apply. Such media would include comics especially, but also painting, illustration, graphic design, etc. I'm on the fence about video games, because they're still trying to figure out just what they are as a collective medium and besides, no one can agree on what constitutes a good game beyond how they "feel" when they play it. Videogames have no "Poetics", no Shakespeare, no John Ford. Yet. But I digress, that is a much longer post for a much more lazy day.

Before I breakdown the rules as I see them, let me first define what exactly I mean by "good" visual storytelling. When I talk about "good" visual storytelling, it is usually a pretty quantitative assessment of the work's visual language, not a qualitative assessment of it's style (if there is such a thing), or whether or not I "liked it" because (for example) it's a romantic comedy starring my-favorite-actress-ever-Lindsey-Lohan.

But provided there is such a thing as "style", it's by definition not something we can quantitatively assess. Therefore we need to ask, "What criteria apply to visual storytelling beyond style?" A better way to ask this question might be to say, "What purposes do any given work's visual language serve, regardless of artistic 'interpretation'?"

If we take the primary goal of any work to be the action-objective "to communicate", then the three things any image or series of images must constantly be communicating are, in order:

1) ACTION
2) GEOGRAPHY
3) EMOTION

ACTION - "What is the character doing? What is happening to them?"
The fundamental building block of drama: a character's actions define it's story, plot, and performances. These in turn define how we, the visual storyteller, render them.

Now, before you think I've arbitrarily lumped an unnamed fourth criteria called "Character" into Rule #1, "Action", let's all remember what F. Scott Fitzgerald said about action and character: "Action IS character." [My emphasis] Any one want to challenge Mr. Great Gatsby? Didn't think so.

GEOGRAPHY - "Where does the action take place?"
In order for the audience to understand what exactly constitutes a character's actions, they also need to know where it's happening. Is Indy in the Well of the Souls, or is he hiding out on a freighter? Is John McClaine being shot at on a roof, or running through glass in a computer lab? Is Harry Lime giving his "cuckoo clock" speech on a Ferris wheel, or running for his life through the sewers of Vienna?

Each location and it's specific geography, texture and atmosphere in the above examples all contribute to how the character's actions play out -- and how we perceive them. Would Welles' speech in The Third Man have been the same if he delivered it in the sewers? I don't think so.

This also calls to mind Mr. Anonymous' adage that "[Characters] are products of their environments." Can't really challenge someone named Anonymous.

EMOTION - "How does s/he feel about it?"
Lastly, what are the psychological ramifications of the actions our characters commit -- or the actions that others commit to them? Simply put, how do they -- and by empathic extension, "we" -- feel about it all?

If drama is the application of emotion to communication, then clearly this final "rule" is at the heart of storytelling. Emotion is the "this is what it's all about" element, whether we're talking about simply a single dramatic beat or the entire work, and it's this end that the other two "rules" serve. Emotion is ineffective without first knowing "who did what", "where".

I think it's fair to say that the reason "sentiment" has become such a dirty word is because of unearned emotion -- stories wherein the audience has not been given sufficient action and geography to empathically connect to and invest in a given story's characters. This is why it feels cheap when a film clearly wants us to cry and we feel nothing. A "sentimental" work's emotional manipulation is made transparent in these cases because we're engaged by neither the drama on display, nor how the drama is displayed -- nor, frequently, both.

Alfred Hitchcock put it best: "Emotion REQUIRES information." [My emphasis] Any one want to challenge Mr. Rear Window/Vertigo/North by Northwest/TakeYourPick?

Essentially, these three "goals" or elements of visual storytelling are another way of saying, "Character A does thing B in place C because of D." Ex 1: "Sandy vomited in the bathroom because she was nervous." Ex 2: "John shot the person breaking into his home because he was scared." At a minimum, the images we construct for each of these examples must clearly show each of the ACTION-GEOGRAPHY-EMOTION elements, then embellish as you see fit. In example, we need to see Sandy vomiting, in the bathroom, and find a way to show "nervous". Likewise, with example 2, we need to see John shooting a burglar, in his home, and we need to show that he is "scared". But those are deceptively simple breakdowns. The ways you can show each of those elements are legion, their composition and chronology an order of magnitude greater.

Before you scoff at the simplicity of the methodology, I have to point out that this simplicity is their strength. It doesn't matter how you implement them, as long as you do. If, as Will Eisner said, style is how you solve a given problem, then the how of showing your audience "who is doing what (action) where (geography) why (emotion)", is what becomes your style.

If you make the communication of ACTION, GEOGRAPHY, and EMOTION the only goals your images are beholden to, then you will rivet your audience with (insert emotion here)*.

Feel free to dismantle below.

__________
*Provided, of course, that your content is given the same clear development. As my personal art school savior [see last post] said, "Art is the synthesis of form and content." Visual storytelling is the form, your story is the content.

**Everything in the above and more was handily cribbed from: Aristotle, da Vinci, Shakespeare, Mozart, Chekov, Fitzgerald, Hemingway, Ford, Hitchcock, Wilder, Huston, Lumet, Spielberg, Mamet, Cameron, McTiernan (duh), McCloud, and my gracious mentors, Brian McDonald & Andrew Tsao. What is right in the above is owed to them, what is wrong is entirely my fumble.

***Of course, one of my mentors has conveniently boiled down all of the above to an even simpler, single rule: "ABC: Always. Be. Communicating." I don't think they're mutually exclusive, but that doesn't mean I'm right.

My personal art school savior

2010-10-27T20:46:00.000-07:00

Paul Rand Retrospective from Jeremy Cox on Vimeo.

DESERTERS deluge

2010-09-30T20:54:00.000-07:00

It has most definitely been a long and productive time since I last posted on Cine Medias Res. While I harbor no illusions about the breadth of my audience at this humble blogspot, I do know that there are a happy few of you who comprise the depth of my audience and, as such, I'm sorry to have left you so in the lurch.

In any event, I thought the least I could do was tell you that I did indeed get a short film made, it is indeed not bad by half, and it is indeed going to be seeing some kind of festival life once it's finished -- though to what extent remains to be seen. Oh: and I am indeed in five-digits of debt as a result. And that's just the debt, not including what I spent that I could actually afford.

C'est la vie.

Until I have a finished film for which to post a link here, I'll simply add a sort of "creative" summation. I wrote the following as part of my thesis submission in June. I've done quite a bit of work on the film since then, in numerous small but crucial ways, such that the final film will no doubt look like the film I discuss having made in the below, but won't exactly feel like it.

Bear that in mind when reading the following about my June 01, 2010 edit of DESERTERS:

I am a cinematic storyteller. Which is to say, I tell stories through the medium of film. The goal of my evolving process is to move away from the disingenuous aspects of the post-music video & -commercial visual language, and reconnect to the Aristotelian and Aesop-ian roots of dramatic storytelling. All of this via the moving image.

Storytelling is by necessity a populist art, the goal being to communicate with the largest possible audience. So I’ll make no bones about it: the only modern referents whose work holds much interest for me are two unapologetically populist visual storytellers: Steven Spielberg and James Cameron. That said, I draw a considerable amount of my creative guidance from the pillars of 20th Century filmmaking: guys like Alfred Hitchcock & John Ford, John Huston & David Lean, Billy Wilder & Elia Kazan, and Sidneys Pollack & Lumet. Hitchcock and Ford in particular had an ability to construct by turns disciplined and playful stories, each told with a visual rigor that communicated clearly without being vanilla. The breadth and depth of their combined filmographies provides a creatively rich well for the aspiring professional filmmaker to draw on. This is a well I have only begun to fully explore.

Following these examples, I start with the story. The majority of the time spent on DESERTERS was spent studying, conceiving, and developing -- to the best of my abilities -- a strong story. From that solid foundation evolves both the basic visual language and the dramatic tenor of the performances. As the director, it is my job to orchestrate a push-pull dynamic between these two aspects of filmmaking, an orchestration that aims to arrive at a creative harmony. Equilibrium. DETENTE.

The fundamental rule of visual construction for this project was simple: no hand-held photography. "If the camera is moving it will be on a dolly. If it is not moving it will be on a tripod…” were the first words shared with my cinematographer. And we stuck to them, however in need of a crutch we may have been at points. This forces the visual storyteller to focus more on composition and content, relieving us of a technique that in the best of hands amounts to little more than punctuation.

From that simple declaration, I moved straight into casting and rehearsals. Rehearsals at their best are a process of discovery. The actors and I work the text, combing it for issues to fix and strengths to exploit, first through discussion and table readings, and then through physical staging. In the case of DESERTERS, the two-character argument that comprises the bulk of the second act was a particularly difficult nut to crack. But like the best staging solutions, when we added the physical obstacle of the door, the actors’ beats fell into place like dominoes. The only work left to do was simple finessing.

When we’re comfortable with the rhythm and staging of the scene, I have the actors run their blocking by rote, while I use a still camera to compose as many different kinds of shots, with as many different lenses, from as many different angles as possible. I may take over 150 photos during a two-minute scene, all while keeping in mind two things: 1) Ford’s methodology of composing for the master; and 2) Hitchcock’s principle of “image size” orchestration (essentially: save the close-up for the moment it will create the greatest possible impact). The construction of the final shotlist is derived from this surge of stills, and represents a distillation of an improvised process. After collating the stills from a run of a scene, I may run the same scene again at the next rehearsal to address missing shots or to try a different point of attack in the staging or visual language.

At the end of this preparatory process, the hope is that the script, performances, and shotlist are all working in unison, the one neither fully at the mercy of the other two. Though we will always return to the story and the basic dramatic throughline or “armature”, the intent is to have developed a complete vision in which all parts are serving the whole.

Our homework done, we shoot. Directing on-set is a lot like an improvised endurance test: you craft your plan to the best of your abilities, yet everyday presents a potentially-crippling challenge you couldn’t possibly have foreseen but in hindsight seems clumsy to have overlooked. Locations and actors come and go; what worked on the page and even in rehearsal doesn’t work on the day; you lose the light; you lose the crew; you lose time; you lose your mind. So you adjust fire, always keeping in mind the end product. “Does it work? Do I buy it?” If so, we move on. We shoot. And shoot. And shoot. And then, maybe, we re-shoot. We averaged no less than six 12-hour days during the DESERTERS shoot.

On one day in particular, we worked for 16 hours, including the striking of the set. That we were able to get not only usable but quality material in the latter 1/3 of this day is a huge testament to a vetted plan of action and a dedicated cast & crew.

Editing is a process that still possesses a bit of alchemy for me. I tend to read a lot by editor and sound designer Walter Murch, not just because he is good, but because he is also the most out-spoken of any cinema editor. Hitchcock’s image size principle returns to mind as well. In all, it is a process of selecting the best takes, and moving from one shot to the next in a way that follows the beats of the story and performances, and balancing those beats with the need for tempo and momentum in the telling. The final part of editing tends to be the culling of other takes for little bits that could be useful somewhere or could replace a quick cutaway. In the case of DESERTERS, these allowed for the creation of what could be called epic similes: the insertion of out-of-context shots to create thematic contrast, plant visual fuses, and/or illustrate a character’s thought-process. In a way, these similes feel a bit like cheating – they’re out of the modern film playbook, and don’t feel quite of the fabric of the piece, however well-woven they may be. Ultimately, they’re substitutions for material I failed to write clearly enough or failed to get on the day – whether it be an insert, a close-up or an additional beat out of the actor.

The final stage is the design and mixing of the soundtrack, generally regarded as the filmmaker’s last chance to affect the telling of the story. I pushed my sound designer well beyond the point of exhaustion in the hustle to record additional dialogue, get foley, mix sound effects, and create a smooth mix-down. After three-straight days of work on both our parts, even with working to the absolute last minute – we still failed to lay-down a final soundtrack. The sound for the body of DESERTERS is only the temp track. Sound has always been my greatest weakness and it is probably this piece’s greatest failure – but it wasn’t for lack of trying. All I can do is learn from this particular mistake and push-on with the creation of a polished mix-down apart from the my thesis exhibition.

However flawed the resultant product, a viewing of DESERTERS will show pretty definitively that I’m not particularly interested in art for art’s sake or any other Art World “movements” to speak of. I mostly just want to make a good movie that a functional human being can emotionally connect to, invest in, understand, and -- just maybe -- enjoy.

For comparison's sake, the June 01 edit ran (with credits) 18m19s. With credits, the current (Sept 30) edit runs 16m48s. That may not, at first blush, sound like a helluva difference, but when you consider the 18:19 edit was already a rather brutal culling of an initial 22:00+ edit, you should have some idea of how compressed things are becoming. In effect, I've cut-out more than 1/4 of the original cut, without losing virtually any story.

Enough said for now. More updates as they're available. If a single soul has read any of the above, let alone this far, I'll say only this: THANKS.

Erik LeDrew

Timeline for DeconstruXion ARTS Thesis

2010-04-13T23:13:00.000-07:00

I've been lost in story/script and casting land these past two weeks, both of which have been really fun and rewarding. I had a 20-hour day this past Sunday, in fact: casting from 930am - 700pm, then writing from 9pm - 5am. It wasn't as hard as it sounds actually, because the casting process was so fun and the writing process so rewarding (see what I did there?).

But now it's great to take a brief break from creativity and focus on locking down a timeline that's been kicking around in my head this past month.

WEEK 3: CASTING & REWRITES
April 14 - Timeline presentation; Script revisions
April 15 - 1-on-1 production meetings; Script revisions
April 16 - 1-on-1 production meetings; Script revisions; Anchor images #1 - key image
April 17 - Final callbacks for casting; Anchor images #2 - five images
April 18 - Logistics breakdown w/ co-producer; Groundplan #1

WEEK 4: REHEARSALS & PREP
April 19 - "Cam" & "Jamie" cast; Production meeting #2; Shotlisting #1
April 20 - Rehearsals: 1st table read w/ "Cam" & "Jamie"; Groundplan #2
April 21 - Class @ Fremont; Rehearsals: 2nd table read; Shotlisting #2
April 22 - Production meeting #3; Rehearsals: 3rd table read; Groundplan #3
April 23 - Rehearsals: 4th table read; Location scout #1; Thumbnails #1
April 24 - Rehearsals: final table read, initial staging; Groundplan #4
April 25 - Production meeting #4; Rehearsals: staging cont'd; Thumbnails #2

WEEK 5: FINAL REHEARSALS, PREP & SHOOTING
April 26 - Production meeting #5; Rehearsals: staging & business; Groundplan #5
April 27 - Production meeting #6; Rehearsals: staging, combat choreography; Thumbnails #3
April 28 - Rehearsals: staging, combat choreography cont'd; Location Scout; Storyboards #1
April 29 - Production meeting #7 ; Rehearsals: staging, combat choreography cont'd; Final Groundplan - w/ camera positions; Storyboards #2
April 30 - Final rehearsal on-location: final choreography; Tech scout; Storyboards #3
May 01 - Final production meeting #8; Final prep
May 02: Principle Photo DAY 01

WEEK 6: SHOOTING, EDITING WK1
May 03: Principle photo DAY 02
May 04: Review dailies
May 05: MIDTERM: proof-of-shoot & ruff aesthetic crit
May 06: Editing
May 07: Editing
May 08: Editing
May 09: Editing

WEEK 7: EDITING WK2 & RESHOOTS
May 10: Editing
May 11: Editing
May 12: Lock Rough Edit
May 13: Review edit for reshoots
May 14: Prep for reshoots
May 15: Reshoots
May 16: Review material

WEEK 8: EDITING & POST-
May 17: Editing
May 18: Editing
May 19: Lock 1st sequence to pass-off to sound & post
May 20: Lock 2nd sequence to pass-off to sound & post
May 21: Lock 3rd sequence to pass-off to sound & post
May 22: Lock 4th sequence to pass-off to sound & post
May 23: Lock 5th sequence to pass-off to sound & post

WEEK 9: FINAL EDITING, FINAL CRIT, FINAL POST-, PICTURE LOCK!
May 24: Semi-final editing
May 25: Lock semi-final edit
May 26: present unpolished semi-final cut
May 27: Final editing; final sound & post
May 28: Final editing; final sound & post
May 29: LOCK PICTURE
May 30: Initial reel test

WEEK 10: TWEAKS, REEL, TEST, EXHIBITION!
May 31: Final reel rendering & final reel test
JUNE 01: EXHIBITION

Speed Bumps

2010-03-04T00:45:00.000-08:00

I've been working pretty intensely these past two weeks on putting together a "pitch" video for fundraising. It's shaping up to be a pretty professional bit of "pitch" cinema and I think it gives me a real shot at raising the money I need to make Trigger a reality.

It's also serving as the Trigger prototype that the "trailer for a film that doesn't exist" was originally envisioned as being.

The big shake-up has been the determination that, in order to do Trigger justice, it really needs to be shot this summer. This would give us 4 months to cast the film, crew it, fund it, and generally just prep it into something exquisite. Pushing my thesis back caused a lot of drama with my department and raised the question of whether or not I'd graduate on time or have to wait an entire year when the next BFA exhibition rolled around. We arrived at a compromise with very few arrows loosed in either direction: I'll shoot a 4-7 minute short with the same characters and setting, but on a much more contained scale.

This 4-7 minute short will serve as both my BFA thesis, and as a part of preproduction for the much larger Trigger. It will be a trial run for working with my cast/crew and developing the non-docu "look" of the film. Most importantly, it will give the actors a chance to get comfortable with their characters, collaborating with the other actors, and working with myself. It's exactly what should be done on larger studio films.

Of no small consequence: it will also be a huge tool to use for the last-minute, June fund-raising push.

Gathering Steam

2010-02-16T23:55:00.000-08:00

Four reasons why today was a good day to be working on TRIGGER. To wit:

1. A local "rock star" cinematographer and I are scheduled to meet.

2. One of my mentors gave me positive feedback on the script (plus the usual "it's too long" critique of which I am most definitely guilty).

3. One of my fellow directors at the UW (though she a Theater MFA) actually wants to be a producer for film/TV and wants to collaborate with me.

4. And one of my former video store co-workers who now works as a costume supervisor on films, responded positively to my script and is already drafting ideas.

Now, four reasons why this week is a good week to work on TRIGGER:

1. I brokered my way into an invitation-only, project-based fund-raising website kickstarter.com. It seems to be working wonders for its members and I'm hoping to add my success to their pool. Nothing but a profile yet, but: kickstarter.com/profile/eledrew

2. For that, I am drafting a teaser poster of sorts through the steady hand of my sometime-graphic-designer fiance Marie. Per my request, she's producing it in the spirit of these: shoottheglass.bigcartel.com & exergian.tumblr.com

3. Further, I'm drafting the script of a short "pitch" for TRIGGER that will be shot on the Red and star yours truly as a dashing, romantic adventurer-filmmaker. Shouldn't be too hard to pull off.

4. Lastly, I've locked down my plan for the TRIGGER prototype: "a trailer for a film that doesn't exist"! I can't believe it took me this long to think of that. Seems like a no-brainer in hindsight. It'll be just like my glory days in the experimental video series.

Hoo-ah!

Thesis Experiment

2010-02-09T17:46:00.000-08:00

My thesis experiment is a 1m 10s video haiku starring the reliably-bearded Paul Maupoux(!). It is shot at sterling 24fps 4k RAW on the Red One camera; gorgeously lit with a match, candle and bounced 4-bank Kino Flo; and photographed with an 85mm f/1.4 Nikon Prime - a "handsome lens", as Barry Sonnenfeld would say (re: the long lenses he used for "Miller's Crossing"). Add a FADE IN and a FADE OUT, plus a re-timed, re-mixed track from Vangelis' "Blade Runner" score -- and you've got yourself a nice, ambient little film.

This little film was conceived as a "Lux" test for the Red vs. the HVX. Lux is a term referring to the light sensitivity of the hardware. A Lux value of '1' means the camera can get a good exposure based on the light of a single candle. A value of 1 is top of the market. It goes on down to 10.

My thesis screenplay TRIGGER takes place in the wilderness at night, so the purpose of this test was to get an idea of how each camera handled extremely low-lighting conditions. True to it's reputation, the Red performed phenomenally (as you will see once I get a streaming version posted). The HVX (settings: f/1.8, 1080i24p, 1/24s exposure) performed ably, but I didn't even bother capturing the footage. Simply put, it paled in comparison to the Red.

As one of my mentor/teachers said after I showed him this Red-photographed haiku: "That's a $200,000 shot." A $200,000 shot produced for $50? Yes, sir.

Crew:

Malcolm Badewitz - AC, Lighting Tech

Ryan Irilli - Lighting Tech, Grip, docu footage

Paul Maupoux - star, add'l Grip

Marie Whitney - Crafty, Still Photog

(Dir, writer, editor, photog, etc. Yours Truly)

The file is too big to post on YT or Vimeo, and it'll take all night to re-compress from 1.5GB down to 500MB or less, so you'll have to wait on a streaming version.

The Running (Late) Man

2010-02-06T17:41:00.000-08:00

This has been a late week for me, just generally speaking. Late to bed, late to the gym, late to class, late to life. So in the spirit of late-ness, here is this LATE blog post:

I have finished the first draft aka "Madman draft" of my screenplay TRIGGER. It is 30 pages long. No, I don't know how I am going to do it. Yes, I am going to do it. No, I don't need your help reminding me that I don't know how I am going to do it.

Because I am going to do it.

It will be edited down to 20-25 pages ultimately, but as of right now, its a very, very tight 30 pages. It's currently sent out to my trusted readers, and I'm awaiting feedback.

Revisions schedule is as follows:

Feb. 12 - Architect draft

Feb. 19 - Carpenter draft

Feb. 26 - Judge draft

Mar. 12 - Final polish

While writing this post, FCP was ingesting the RED footage I shot last weekend. The shoot went really well and I had a blast improvising a video haiku out of my experiment's contraints. I had a small crew and I basically had a candle and a kino flo light kit. One of my crew was the actor and we staged a little micro-narrative for the RED. I'll have more details on this experiment as I review the footage for my presentation Wednesday.

Staying on Track

2010-01-27T22:49:00.000-08:00

Misc updates:

I am currently writing the actual pages of the script. The two scenes I've completed are both about 2x as long as they ought to be. I'll have to go back and trim them down, which makes me sad because I love writing the details I see when I write -- but is ultimately detrimental to painting a realistic picture of the undertaking the film represents from a logistic and dramatic perspective. I intend to have the first draft finished by this weekend (somehow). The drafting that follows will be fast and furious in order to lock down a final script. Thankfully, I have a lot of good friends within emailshot from whom I can solicit feedback I trust.

I am prepping to shoot my first round of experiments this weekend. I have a solid crew lined up and am looking forward to having some fun Saturday night, shooting outside. Unfortunately, the forecast right now is for rain. Hopefully this will change, as we're going to be shooting with the Red and rain will make it exceedingly difficult to keep the camera clean and dry. We'll manage, its just added complexity that I really don't need. Fingers are crossed, but -- hey! -- it's the weather, what're you gonna do?

I also have learned today that my production period is about a month shorter than I'd planning on up until now. Instead of June 5th, I now have to my film ready to show around May 5th. I understand the department's logistics issues that've forced this bumping up of the schedule, but unfortunately, I will not realistically be able to have a polished work by then. I'll have something, no doubt, and that something will be coherent and as good as I can possibly make it. But polished? No. At this point, it looks most likely that what I present will be a honed edit of the principle photography with a good stereo soundtrack and maybe some temp music laid-down. Thankfully, I'm planning to do most if not all of my fx work in-camera, so the post-end of this version should be rather light. The most significant piece missing from this version will be reshoots, but I will also most likely not have the final color correction, final timing, and the final 5.1 soundtrack (incl. composed music) locked down.

The best thing about this exhibition is that I essentially get to "test screen" my film to a discerning audience for free. Beats show it to ma and pop and asking, "Whaddya think?" (No offense to my real mother and father -- they're great).

Scheduling Experiments

2010-01-24T22:13:00.000-08:00

Experiments 1 & 2:

Jan. 25 - 29: Continue research on night photography & optics; prep for shoots
Jan. 30 & 31: Night Photography shoot; Night Optics shoot
Feb. 1 - 5: Post-production for night-shooting materials;

Experiment 3:
Feb. 1 - 5: Prep material and actors for shoot
Feb. 6 & 7: Shoot key scene in film with stand-in actors cast in parts
Feb. 8 & 9: Edit material into a scene; final touches on Exps. 1 & 2

I've decided that gunfire isn't a feasible option for experimenting with at this point, because I'm still trying to lock down funds for this project, and gunfire is an aspect that (legally) costs a healthy chunk of change.

Expect to see a more concrete attempt at gunfire in my prototype.

Thesis :: Armature & 7 Steps

2010-01-20T00:04:00.000-08:00

The following is the theme ("armature") and rough structure of incidents for the short film I intend to produce as my thesis project. For a link to the much more detailed beatsheet, email me: erik.ledrew@gmail.com

THESIS :: ARMATURE & 7 STEPS

ARMATURE: Bravery is more than just pulling a trigger.

THE 7 STEPS:

Once upon a time...there was a hot-shot soldier name Jamie Keats who was in love with a fellow soldier named Camilla Derikson.

And everyday...they would comfort each other inside this war zone and talk of life together when they rotate home.

Until one day...Derikson goes missing during a night patrol.

And because of this...Keats and a new grunt desperately search for her and stumble upon an enemy shack in the wilderness.

And because of this...the new grunt is wounded and Keats is forced to take him back to the encampment for medical aid.

Until finally...Camilla comes out of the darkness near the encampment but she doesn't speak the password so Keats is forced to shoot her. She screams in pain and Keats tells the SGT to fuck off, he's going out to her. She's still alive, and the wire on her explosives vest is severed by his bullet.

And ever since that day...Keats understood that the courage it took her to not speak the password, knowing she would be shot, was far greater than any violent endeavor he'd ever undertaken.

3 Experiments

2010-01-19T22:46:00.000-08:00

Three Experiments (with an opt'l 4th) to nail down certain technical and aesthetic aspects of the short film I intend to produce for my thesis project.

Experiment #1: "Night"
The script I am shaping takes place almost entirely at night. I need to experiment with various night "looks" to find one that is aesthetically viable and logistically achievable.

a. "Day for Night": using a special polarizer, I will experiment with filming during the daytime to see if I can achieve a nighttime "look".

b. "Dusk for Night": using one or more cameras and a post-production process, I will film test shots at dusk to see if I can achieve a nighttime "look".

c. "Night for Night": using one or more cameras, I will film test shots at night using only available and/or practical light sources (ie flashlights, chem lights, etc)

d. "Augmented Night for Night": using one or more cameras, I will film test shots at night using both practical/available lighting as well as professional lighting kits to achieve a nighttime "look".

Desired Outcome: a "look" for the nighttime photography that is cinematic without being melodramatic, and is logistically feasible.

Experiment #2: "Gunfire"
My story also calls for gunfire in four scenes. There are any number of different ways of achieving this, whether practical or in post-. I will present several tests of blankfire, an After Effects-created "gunshot", and a third option I am still trying to work out.

Desired Outcome: a safe, cinematic and visceral "look" for the gunfire.

Experiment #3: "Night Optics"
The characters in the story posses nocturnal ocular devices (NODs or "night-vision goggles") and for several POV shots, I'll need to have a NOD "look" that functions for the story. I will test this with several different cameras and get several different "looks" in post- before deciding on the final one.

Desired Outcome: a cinematic and functional "look" for the night optic shots.

Experiment #4 (opt'l): "Characters"
I'll film a short dialogue between the three primary characters of the piece. It will be indoors, without lighting, likely on MiniDV.

Desired Outcome: Simply, to see the actors moving in space, and hear the characters speak. This will also help with casting, allow me to see how an actor's "look" and/or performance-type works for and against a character.

Plan for Critiques: all will be viewed as part of a video reel, so a screening will be appropriate.

A Storm is Coming (Revised)

2010-01-04T18:25:00.000-08:00

Been awhile: haven't posted anything all year. End of New Year's jokes. Still, it has been awhile. And now it's another quarter, 'nother blog.

_______________

First, PRINCIPLES:

1. Purpose: "The wise man speaks because he has something to say, the fool speaks because he must say something." - Anonymous

2. Simplicity: "Simplicity is the ultimate sophistication." - Leonardo da Vinci

3. Emotion: "Don't give me logic, give me emotion." - Billy Wilder

4. Hard Work: "I'm a great believer in luck and I find the harder I work, the more I have of it." - Thomas Jefferson

5. Discipline: "No one who gets up before dawn 365-days-a-year fails to make his family rich." - Ancient Chinese Proverb

__________
Second, GOALS:

1. A polished SCREENPLAY for my THESIS SHORT FILM

2. Lead role CAST & keys CREWED

3. PREPRODUCTION under-way

4. A series of thesis-related VIDEO EXPERIMENTS

5. A PROTOTYPED SCENE/SEQUENCE as part of thesis prep

5. A SILENT 5-MIN SCENE directed

6. A 10-MIN CLIMACTIC scene directed

7. IMPROV studied

8. Continued work with SCREEN ACTOR students

9. EXERCISE maintained

__________

Third, TASKS:

1. Thesis 2.1: Construct my Screenplay; Commence Casting & Crewing; Begin Pre-Viz

2. Screen Acting: Study Rehearsal Techniques; Study Dailies; Sketch Two Dramatic Scenes to coincide with:

3. Thesis 2.2: Draft a Production Schedule; Draft 3-4 30s Video Sketches ("Thesis Experiments"); Craft a Polished Prototyped Video ("Thesis Prototype")

4. Stage Directing: Study the Director's Craft; Direct a 5-minute Silent Play; Direct a 10-minute Climax from a full-length play

5. Beginning Improvisation: Continue to study the Actor's Process, emphasis on Spontaneous Creativity; Incorporate Improv Techniques into personal Creative Process

6. Personal Health: Maintain Daily Exericse; Persist in regular Sleep Patterns; Capitalize on the Mind-Body Link

_______________

Last, TIMELINE(~):

Week 1 (4JAN):

Breakdown "The Strike"

Draft DxProps

Week 2 (11JAN):

Start Improv Class (1/12)

Draft DxProps cont'd

DUE 1/16: Original Treatment inspired by "The Strike"

Week 3 (18JAN):

DUE 1/19: Silent Scene treatment

DUE 1/20: DXProps

DUE 1/22: Madman Draft

DUE 1/23: Draft Prod. Sched.

Week 4 (25JAN):

Silent Scene rehearsals

DUE 1/30: Architect Draft

Thesis Sketches production

Week 5 (1FEB):

DUE 2/2: Directing Midterm - Silent Scene

Thesis Sketches production cont'd

Week 6 (8FEB):

DUE 2/10: 3-4, 30s video sketches

DUE 2/12: Carpenter Draft

Thesis Prototype prep

Week 7 (15FEB):

Directing scene prep

Thesis Prototype prep cont'd

Begin Casting

DUE 2/19: Judge Draft

Week 8 (22FEB):

Thesis Prototype production

Directing scene prep cont’d

Week 9 (1MAR):

End Improv Class (#8)

Thesis Prototype prod cont’d

Directing Final Scene rehearsals

Week 10 (8MAR):

DUE 3/9: Directing Final - 10min Climax

DUE 3/9: Directing Final - Paper

DUE ???: Thesis Prototype

Finals (15MAR):

DUE 3/17: Director Research Presentations

DUE 3/19: Final polish

DUE 3/19: Final production schedule

Drama Showcase Reels Completed

_____________

See you on the other side.

100th Post: "You're not important enough to have writer's block"

2009-06-27T23:39:00.001-07:00

I need to have a completed short film by July 21st. That gives me a little more than three weeks. Going start-to-finish in three weeks is reminiscent of my days in the experimental video series, when I was making a short film a month for about a year's worth of time. It was an intense experience and was ultimately what laid the foundation for my further study of the craft.

In the three years since I started the series, I've studied playwriting, short story writing, story structure, story design for animation, storyboarding, 3D animation, cinematography and editing for 3D animation, screenwriting, acting, and directing the actor. And that is a lot to pack into three years, I am proud to say.

Since I completed the video series two years ago, however, I have only made six short films: a vignette, Truth in Fiction, Mousetrap, Man & Tree, Kings, Punchline. That is an average of one short film every four months. Now to be fair, the latter three are films of exceedingly heightened ambition. Man & Tree was shot on 16mm and took a year of post to lock the sound design. Kings is a 3D animated film and is still actually in production after two years of development. And Punchline was my first foray into HD video and multiple actor scenes. It also is still in post-production -- though so very close to being finished.

Since then I have also written some half-dozen short stories, the first act of a three-act play, and the first draft of a feature length screenplay. At 200 pages however, it's misleading to call the script simply "feature-length".

So now where am I?

Now, I have to scale back the size of the canvas to which I've become accustomed. And after having been locked in front of a computer either writing, animating, or in post-, I now have to readjust the scale of my turn-around periods.

My brain doesn't quite grasp the start-to-finish in three weeks concept, and as such, whatever ideas I come up with continually seem to be beyond my capacity to fully deliver them.

Of course, if I could only land on an idea that I find inspiring, I could probably pound it into submission in one form or another. But that isn't happening. Nothing is happening. I sit here and think until I get distracted. Then I do whatever it is I do to procrastinate -- browse websites, walk around, pet my cats, watch a movie. Then I return to my laptop and fuck around some more. Writing in here is just another way to make myself feel good about generating content, even if it's not the kind of content I should be generating.

Part of my problem is that I'm not focusing on the process. I'm focusing on what the piece will be in the end, instead of enjoying the moment of creation. This should be a joyous time, I love writing. But it isn't. It's painful and frightening. It has consumed almost my entire weekend so far, preventing me from getting much in the way of pleasure out of anything. Especially today, Saturday. I haven't done anything today but sit at this computer, nap, finish Point Break -- which I watched with a feeling of guilt -- and then return to stare at a half-finished blog.

I understand that anyone who creates anything worthwhile experiences this same paralyzing fear. Frank Capra had a nervous breakdown. I imagine it's what has kept James Cameron from the feature film department for these last twelve years -- though to be fair, he started production on Avatar in 2006, which meant he probably wrote it sometime between '03-'05, which leaves at least six years, at most nine. And he did still produce three feature-length documentaries, two of which in stereo, as well as produce the "Dark Angel" TV show. Not bad for someone in a post-success paralysis.

And I don't even have the "success" to be paralyzed by, hence the quote "You're not important enough to have writer's block." So what is it then? Am I just burning out? In need of a rest? Did my 200-page orgy of content wipe out my creative bank account, if only for the moment? Or am I intellectualizing the process too much? Spending too much time thinking about what I want the project to be from an intellectual perspective, and not enough time actually doing work?

Maybe it is as simple as just starting to write. Something. Anything. Putting words on paper and stringing them into a coherent pattern of thought.

Picking up the Piece(s)

2008-11-29T20:20:00.000-08:00

Where to from here?--The eternal question--What next?

I have a few ideas.

A few ideas:

1. Have an FM motive serving as the spine that changes, but almost imperceptibly, to serve as the armature and generate tension. Contrapuntal to this would be a granular harmony that is never static or repetitive and is ONLY composed of changing elements.

2. Have a granular motive that appears to change very, very little. Would serve the same purpose as the FM motive in the previous idea: to generate tension and carry the piece. Have an FM motive that would be nothing but change. The FM motive would be the primary melody.

Problems with these two ideas: there is not enough overall change, simply an extended contrast of two distinct layers. How can we move toward a compelling climax? How can we continue to change?

......

I really need to do more research into FM and granular synthesis, create a few mini-experiments, and find my central idea, before I can nail down anymore what exactly I want to do.

......

So many of my DXARTS projects are self-reflexive. Only a while after have I been able to apply what I've learned and generate something that exists without being self-consciously aware of what it is, without being a direct response to what it is. But isn't all great art by nature, aware of what it is? Isn't it through this awareness that it is able to transcend past nearsightedness? By being aware of itself, by knowing fully what it is, can it know what it is capable of. And by knowing what it is capable of, it can become, realize that capability.

But all of this flows out of knowing. Knowing flows out of doing. Doing flows out of knowing.

Ouroboros.

That's my generative idea. Badda-bing.

Listening to: Mozart's String Quartet No. 1

Lessons of Suckness*

2008-11-29T19:01:00.000-08:00

I'm going to transcribe the notes from my midterm critique, and then I'll add some additional thoughts to that before segueing into a rumination on starting my sound synthesis final.

-----------------------------

NOVEMBER 12, 2008:

..."Our brain focuses on the thing that changes"...pitch/amplitude/rhythmic variations keep the thing active in our ears

..."Below 60hz...be sure you want the sound"...

See Grisset re different orderings of the same pitch

Developing a little bit to the point that you feel like it should be developing, but static to the point that you don't feel the development. Doesn't develop enough nor is it static enough.

Don't be afraid to start layering earlier.

I think I approached this project with a lot of big ideas that were dealt with very simply. What I should have done is choose a small idea, and develop it with complexity.
It was also missing something underneath--like an armature. Some spine that the piece could rest on, be supported by.
Also, I introduced too many 'characters' who change very little. The first phrase and the subsequent phrases are not one character going through changes, but separate characters going through little change. They are all introduced over a period of time that is too long. And they change very little.
In other words, I didn't scale my 'cast' to the parameters of the piece. Too many characters, not enough change, nor were they used effectively.
What did I learn? I learned that structure is useless if it's hollow. Structure cannot be compelling in and of itself, it can only carry something that is.
STATIC ACROSS THE BOARD.
But all that is a-okay! Because guys, I learned something today. I learned that while structure may carry story, and story may carry character, and armature may carry structure, YOUR CHARACTERS CARRY AUDIENCE.

----------------------

'Character carries audience' is probably my most profound realization, the most applicable epiphany I could have gotten out of that project/critique. It's an incredibly simple idea, but deceptively so. And one that I've 'known' for as long as I've tried to be a writer/filmmaker--but until you make the mistake of not using this concept, it's really difficult to see precisely how profound it can revitalize your work--and how pervasive a failure your project can become if neglected. In my case, it's really taken 20+ short films/videos/animations, dozens of short stories and plays, a 'bell study' plus this one, educational-if-not-representational midterm sound synthesis project to really, really realize the ramifications of such a simple statement.

Character carries audience.

Apart from that little insight, it didn't help things that I was lacking in an idea to communicate, or an emotion to evoke, or an experience to generate. I just wanted to apply what I knew about story structure to sound/music and see what would happen. Lesson: not much. There is the appearance of structure, but none of the affect. At its worst, structure is an excuse. At its best, structure is a vehicle that clarifies, refines, strengthens, and ultimately enables your idea(s) to be received and, ideally, comprehended by your audience. Of course, structure can't make a bad idea good, nor can it stand in for that good idea.

Structure gives form to content. And both rest on this concept of the armature--premise--thesis--concept.

Thesis + Content + Form = Expression.

----------------------

Some other misc notes:

Find a way to use the same motif you establish without actually repeating it, or the same internal logic/structural logic...Then you can invert it or make other variations and it will sound completely different.

Sketch more specifically your formal ideas, gestures, notes, phrases, relationships.

REPETITION IS MUSIC

Examples:
Loud ==> Quiet
Slow ==> Fast
Low ==> High
Left ==> Right ==> Center
ETC

Let go and see musically where you can go with the software

Be aware of musical time / minute changes

IOW in ONE area, like simple phrase repetitions, these are not changes that are captivating.

Use your imagination! What music do you like? STEAL IT!

Some repetition ideas:
ABACADA
ABABCBABCDCBA
ABABCABCD
...ETC...
not abcdefgabcdefgabcdefg = boring (this is more or less what i did)

There is no need to literally go back to something you've done before, just to create closure.

REPETITION not 'replication'. difference

Thoughts on elements:

Spine: a rhythmic pattern underlying everything; this supports the piece

Motive A: Primary point of expression

Motive B: Counterpoint, secondary expression

Where these(^) run parallel, where they intersect, are the relationships that the 'story' arc should be built upon.

Parallelisms create symmetry, harmony. The movement from this(^) to this(v) is where the tension lies. Perpendicularities/intersections create conflict.

Relationships:
Attacks
Rhythms
Tonalities
Panning

Forget about emotions ATM and focus on how sounds are shaped, developed and interrelated.

The first two seconds of a piece tells you everything it's about...

........

*Very tenuously ripped-off of Herzog's 'Lessons of Darkness'

Obama Day

2008-11-04T01:43:00.000-08:00

In honor of tomorrow/today*:

*not an original

Blog of no content

2008-11-04T01:07:00.000-08:00

In addition to the below sound project (due Nov. 10), I also have a proposal due for my final project in the physics class I'm taking right now: Light and Color. My final project can be a research paper into any of the material we've touched on (give me a break) or it can be an artwork that explores and experiments with some of the topics we've learned (break me off a piece!).

I'm dead certain my project will be a video, hopefully HD. What little film I have is too precious -- I'm saving that for my general studies thesis -- and as much as I love my PD150 and the DVX100, it's time to step it up a little bit. You know, "experiment"? I have access to an HVX100, in theory at least, through my department's research center CARTAH. But whereas it was once possible to get any of their pretty stellar equipment through a simple go-through-the-motions application process, it has become bafflingly difficult to get access to their equipment now. At any rate, I at least need a mini-proposal to submit to them in order to maybe obtain access, so I need to get a jump on that, as submitting my Cartah app by Monday (when my Phys prop is due) is getting a little too late for comfort.

The initial proposal involves: identifying a subject or theme (optics/lenses), where I will obtain information and materials, what exactly I will produce. Fairly straightforward.

But beyond that, the snag I hit is on -- as ALWAYS -- the fucking "what"? And by that, I don't mean "film or video or photograph or painting", I mean "what the fuck is this thing going to be about?" One thing I look forward to after I graduate, is not having to create an idea to suit a project, but instead having to create a project to suit an idea. Which is exactly as it should be. However, having a skill such as that is likely useful in the sink-or-swim world of professional filmmaking.

I, of course, want to continue my movement into narrative filmmaking, especially after all of the play- and screenwriting I've done in the past few months. So drumming up a story that isn't overly ambitious, but just enough so, in order to encourage me to continue to move toward self-experimentation. Shooting high-def will get me halfway there. The scope of the project will be the other half. Naturally, I also hope to work with actors -- but do I really have time to audition for this thing? Jan is always reliable and down for a little guerrilla videomaking, but whether or not I need a more professional performance or I can use my old friend will and should depend wholly on the content of my piece.

Content. That word, it seems to be continually resurfacing. Interesting.

'This shit just got real'

2008-10-30T16:42:00.000-07:00

I've come to my first real sound project (midterm). Up to now it's been only coding and listening assignments. And only with the last one have we been granted any real measure of creativity. The small 'bell study' I came up with for that assignment is really rather simple, a quality I like, even if it fails to exploit any sense of spatialization (as was made abundantly clear to me by listening to a classmate's piece :)). But having listened to it countless times now, I'm still rather pleased with it. At least, as pleased as I might be with a 30 second mini-experiment. There's something about its simplicity that I'm drawn to. That I'm drawn to simplicity is probably why I created it as such. Or I could very well just be completely and utterly disillusioned with my compositional talents simply because I've never sonically composed something before. I'm sure there's at least an element of that. At any rate, I enjoy the piece because it's simple in the way that 'Twinkle, Twinkle, Little Star" is simple, if not quite sublime. You can listen to it here.

That however, was a 'study'. This current project must be 'a piece based on my own compositional concepts.' That's a 7-word difference of expectation. So. Where do I start?

Structure. We've been given direction to model our piece either on one of the pieces we've studied in class, or to use another discipline such as visual and literary arts or a scientific concept. Since the ultimate aim for me to take this series is to explore how to use sound to tell and shape narrative, I figure storytelling structure is a more appropriate form for my piece than anything else.

Now, which form of story structure?

The 'Armature & Seven Steps' story structure from my mentor/friend Brian McDonald: [Once upon a time.../And everyday.../Until one day.../And because of this.../And because of this.../Until finally.../And ever since that day...] All of which serves to develop, prove, and reinforce the theme/premise/thesis or 'armature' of the story.

Syd Field's screenplay structure: Opening Scene, Plot Point I, Midpoint Scene, Plot Point II, End Scene. He stipulates that for a feature length screenplay, Act I will end with Plot Point I, when the story really begins; the Midpoint Scene of Act II should be the turning point of the story from which every scene that follows is fallout from this midpoint scene (see 'The Wild Bunch', 'Heat'); and that Plot Point II is the end of Act II, spinning the action in a final direction toward the climax.

Stanislavsky's Method: Given Circumstances, Super Objective, Objective, Action, Obstacle. This is an acting methodology, but even if it doesn't provide a beginning-to-end structure for telling a story, it does provide a framework for embodying a story. I'm sure there is something structurally worthwhile to be gotten from it.

...there are many, many more, (Campbell's Hero's coughoverusedcough Journey) but these are the three dramatic forms I've studied the most.

Perhaps the best recipe for compositional structure is to crib a little (or a lot) from all of these. Approach this two-to-five minute piece the same way I've approached my feature screenplay:

1) Narrow an area of interest to a specific idea/thesis; this is the Armature. 2) Use the 7 Steps to hash-out the macro-progression of beats towards proving the Armature over time. 3) Use Field's Beginning/PlotPt1/Mdpt/PlotPt2/Ending to create a more specific scene-by-scene -- movement-by-movement(?) -- development of the idea. 4) Use Stanislavsky's method to embody the melodies of the piece and help develop a more emotional progression for them.

That seems pretty reasonable to me. It probably portends a lot more sophistication than what I'll ultimately make -- two minutes is two minutes is composed by a filmmaker -- but it can only help. Structure is a beautiful thing. That's something I've been learning with snowballing momentum lately. The importance and vitality of structure to writing a screenplay finally clicked for me last summer after a year's worth of intensive storytelling study came to a climax of sorts. And now I have the opportunity to study using those same techniques in a different medium.

I feel a little hesitation after writing the above paragraph, mainly because I'm not comfortable labeling myself and my interests, I'm not entirely comfortable using one word to encapsulate everything that makes my sensibilities mine, that kind of goes against pretty much everything I've tried to be. But if I were to choose *something*, I guess it would be 'structuralist'. At the moment at least, I can't think of any artistic ideology more appropriate.

Now, what's my Armature?

Listening to: Beethoven's Symphony No. 9 / RATATAT

My 6th Autumn Quarter at UW

2008-09-25T01:00:00.000-07:00

Jesus Christ. I really can't believe that. Hahaha. Man I'm either REALLY dedicated or REALLY lame. More likely somewhere in-between. At any rate, an old year is over, a new one beginning. Now that the wheels are kind of spinning on my study of storytelling after last year's devotion to it, I'm embarking on a few things that are to varying degrees, beyond my comfort sphere.

Acting: I realized that the single most extensive component involved in filmaking that I hadn't yet studied was acting. I realized this as I tried to seriously pursue getting into the drama dept's directing program. Once it became a do-or-do-not situation, I was like, "Oh fuck, I don't know how to talk to an actor from a place of any experience or confidence at all." Some people don't need to embody every skill that falls within their sphere of influence, but I've always lived by the "lead from the front" creed. And this tends to prevent me from having confidence in situations in which I lack experience. Thankfully, I got into my back-up: acting. So far, I think it's going to be fun, exciting, challenging, and ultimately enlightening. The true super-curriculum challenge for me will be to use my experiences in the class to erect some sort of formalism for approaching the coaching and interpretation of a screenplay (or a play for that matter) with an actor. The paradox is that if I keep this thought too much to the fore of my mind, I'll fail to achieve any sort of real acting experience because I'll be constantly trying to refocus it into my super-objective (Bam! an acting term!), instead of being present and embodying the experience as it is.

The same is true of my other, much more intimidating pursuit: digital sound synthesis and design. I added the "design" component, because that makes me feel more interest in the course, than merely synthesis. On second thought, perhaps I ought to remove that and, in the spirit of the preceding graph, focus on appreciate and embodying the experience as is, instead of attempting to graft my presuppositions onto it. At any rate, my ultimate hope would be to complete my DIY filmmaking skill array, with this last, crucial and potentially crippling facet of audio-visual storytelling. I'll let that phrase perc for a beat. Oh yeah! AUDIO-visual storytelling. Whoops. I missed that memo initially I think. And many of my early experimental films suffered for it. In fact, I'm at the moment mired in an interminable post-production process on my short film from last spring. Visually its beautiful and makes kinetic and spatial sense, but has the pretenses of a narrative without the actual presentation of one. My last hopes for its clarity and salvation lie in some sort of audio narrative being formed to guide and reinforce the visuals that are already there. My super-objective with this year-long class is to acquire the skill-sets necessary to compose and communicate with a composer, ultimately for my films. But as in the prev graph, if I don't focus on being and embodying, I'll lack a true inner space of knowledge and experience to inform my intent. Not to mention that these sound classes are known for being fucking hard. Hard. And the last time I took a challenging class not directly related to filmmaking (or writing)...well, I didn't do so well. So to say I'm a bit nervous, would be an understatement. But I'm hoping to exorcise those demons here and not look back.

I am confident that given the proper attention to detail, the proper expenditure of effort, and the proper level of receptivity to a new experience, I can succeed and perhaps surprise more than just myself. I'd like to. I really would. I'd really like to not say goodbye to a 3.43 gpa that took 3 years and a helluva lot of 4-ohs to raise from a 2.75.

We all have lines that won't be crossed. Mine is to not give an inch in terms of the quality of my education in so far as I can control both my level of effort and the quality of my product.

2008-06-29T21:52:00.000-07:00

A 20-30 page, one-act, multiple-character play. That means in 20 to 30 pages: setup, conflict, resolution between multiple people. For some reason, most literature seems to suggest, and most feelings about one-act plays or similarly timed short films, that a piece of that length is too short to tell a complete and compelling story with multiple characters. To this moment, I can't imagine how one couldn't tell a complete and compelling story. I suppose a part of me has yet to make use of more than half that many pages, and so I am probably either intimidated by the length of the proposition, or simply can't imagine how one could use so much space given how little I've worked with. Though that begs the question, have I ever created a complete and compelling story in that much time.

I think the key to this is to fully explore the characters' personalities and interactions, to make full use of the whole universe of possibilities broached by the barest of bones outline of my story.

Take In Bruges, a wonderful film I saw yesterday for the first time. The basic premise: two hit-men hide out in Bruges following a botched job. That doesn't even scratch the surface of what playwrite(!)-turned-writer/director Martin McDonough has created in his first feature. I think the strength of the piece is in how it fully explores the humanity of its central characters--even the villain--and their interactions. It goes places few movies dare do--that of ultraviolent dark comedy--and comes out as possibly one of the feel-better films I've seen all year. Bizarre? Not really, considering how well it elucidates on its hidden armature. What the film is really about is the potential for a human being to change who he is. Colin Farrel's character wants to change after the gravity of his occupation hits home when he kills the kid. Brenden Gleeson's character does everything he does because while he may be too old to change, he needs to believe that its possible for someone like him to change and to live a good life. The girl Farrel's character hooks up with at first tries to seduce him into a stage tourist robbing scheme, but then she ends up falling in love with him when even after he is held at gunpoint, he still wants her.

...

I've gone on too much. It is a wonderful movie. My favorite so far this year by a long shot--but it has nothing to do with my play beyond what I said above.

To the point: what is a story worth telling, that has the potential for characters worth embodying?

...

Satan is a good guy. The genesis of all evil...isn't evil at all? Or isn't the genesis of it? Or simply exists in a universe where entropy is the natural order? What was it about the "satan is a good guy" idea that I liked so much? Surely there was more beyond simply wanting to see the greatest villain of all time portrayed as good, yeah? Perhaps it was more a desire to see god portrayed as the villain. But is there anything there worth mining that hasn't been already? I'm sure there is. But I certainly can't think of it. So. Satan is a good guy. Now what?

...

Satan is a hero. What did he do and why? Do I have to play by rules? Maybe not.

...

Sample monologue:

I am god's nemesis. I am his most-hated, most-feared enemy. I am all that he pits his all against. I am not satan. I am not the devil. Those don't exist. They are modes of control. Created by a jealous entity that exists beyond and within the fabric of this space called space. Not because you people are the There are issues at stake larger than any collection of parchment could contain.

...

Operating param:

"The devil is in the details"

Even the grandest project depends on the success of the smallest components. This version of the proverb often implies that the details might cause failure.

NOW WHAT?

All Agony, No Ecstasy: an email exchange

2008-04-25T01:54:00.000-07:00

The following is an email exchange that took place over the last 24 hours between one of my teachers at DXARTS and myself. I think it holds a microcosm of personal and universal artistic agony, especially as it relates to filmmaking. I've replaced my instructor's name with "prof" and struck the name of one of the films that I reference just in case the person isn't comfortable being quoted directly.

--------------------------

Date: Thu, 24 Apr 2008 14:23:32 -0700
From: Prof
To: Erik LeDrew
Subject: Re: scripting troubles

yeah no problem, the most important thing is to make something, and the biggest obstacles are usually

1. agonizing over "is my idea good enough?"
2. ideas that are too ambitious for the reality of your timeframe/means

On Apr 24, 2008, at 2:20 PM, Erik LeDrew wrote:

ah. well...of course. :)

I guess I was thinking of that crazy way you went about hand-cranking your HD
footage from the cat and the owl.

Enough said. Thanks for hearing me out.

On Thu, 24 Apr 2008, Prof wrote:

you are misunderstanding me. all i'm saying is that when you're young, you
shouldn't agonize over the ideas so much. just decide on something and
execute it. that's how you'll get better.

On Apr 24, 2008, at 2:02 PM, Erik LeDrew wrote:
Hear, hear.
I'm not exactly a technical innovator though, as I'm sure you can tell.
And going back down the technical chain to a photochemical medium seems
less about innovation and more about just being an exercise for the sake
of experience -- which is what it was intended to be.
I've always thought content and ideas were my strengths, so making
something less about what and more about how seems counter-productive to
me -- even if I agree with you.

On Thu, 24 Apr 2008, Prof wrote:
Don't cancel your tests or your casting call, just write another little
scenario that kinda connects (i.e. uses the same character) but is
separate.
give yourself till tomorrow night to come up with the new concept.
when you're shooting on film, the story of a wet dude limping down the
street and talking someone into buying him a hamburger can be
sophisticated. it matters less what the film is about, more how you make
it, at this stage in your career. (that's my opinion more and more these
days, i think it's true for all of us while we're "nobodies")

On Apr 24, 2008, at 1:45 PM, Erik LeDrew wrote:
Monkey-wrench man, monkey-wrench.
Actually, I had considered that, but I ended up tabling it because
we're already going into the fifth week of the quarter and to start
from square one content-wise seemed like an unsafe endeavor.
You have a good point though. It would be nice to leave 202 having a
complete work. That said, at this point, how sophisticated can it
actually be? I've lost a month's worth of work.
At some point I have to draw the line. I mean, I could ideate and see
what I come up with, but I have already ordered film and my tests are
this weekend which can be pushed back but...fuck man. I don't know
what to do. I've already put out a casting call and everything...
I'll tell you what. I'm going to cancel camera tests this weekend.
I'll give myself until Sunday to have a new story conceived, written,
shot-listed, and sketched. If I don't have at least those first three
elements in place, I'm going to push ahead with the beach scene.
Thoughts?

On Thu, 24 Apr 2008, Prof wrote:
you don't need to make something self-contained, but it might be
more satisfying ultimately, speaking from personal experience.
what about just coming up with a new idea altogether and waiting on
the current one until such a time when you can do it right?

On Apr 24, 2008, at 1:32 AM, Erik LeDrew wrote:
hey man --
i'm having trouble reverse-engineering a stand-alone piece out of
the two beach scenes. It loses a lot of its specific meaning
without the rest to contextualize it. It becomes ambiguous in a
way that i don't think is good. I'm wondering if i should just
shoot it as-written, with the intention of filming the rest.
I also don't really like how it essentially makes it a
naturalistic version of the video I made last year in 453. not to
mention that by removing the acting and narrative-driven elements,
it removes a lot of the things that I wanted to experiment and
challenge myself with in the first place.
I've come to this line of thinking after about five hours of
sitting, and thinking, and sitting and I don't really like where
I've ended up. i don't feel good about it, and i'm not intrigued
by it. so unless there's something lively and poetic that i'm
missing, i think the scene belongs as a piece of a larger film,
not a stand-alone.
if you're cool with it, i think what i'd like to do, is shoot the
scene the way i would want it to be in the finished piece, and
maybe storyboard out the rest of the film, and create a sort of
tempcut, substituting the storyboards for the two missing scenes.
do you think this would be satisfactory? or do i really need to
make a self-contained piece?
or am i going in the wrong direction entirely?
sorry for the bombardment -- erik

There and Back Again: a writer's tale

2008-04-23T23:44:00.000-07:00

EDIT: I've pretty much decided against doing what I discuss in the below, pending approval of my instructor. I've tried to engineer something out of the beach scenes and they just don't resonate for me. I designed the piece with a specific idea supporting it, and without the other two scenes to contextualize it, the meaning is lost and it becomes ambiguous in a bad way.

So I think what I'm going to do is film the beach scenes as-is, and storyboard out the rest of the film. And then put together a reel mixing the footage with storyboards for the missing scenes. This would also save time if I'm going to finish the piece this summer.

I've felt pretty off about the whole stand-alone process and now that I've made this decision, after a legitimate amount of work might I add, I feel pretty good once again.

We'll see if I get the big OK.

---------------------------------------------------------

I ended up writing a pretty decent three-act, 11-page piece. Unfortunately, it's way too ambitious for the amount of time I have to do it. More so because I'm tackling a technical challenge as well as a dramatic one.

So the decision has been made to take the first scene, the scene that the rest of the piece was born out of, and try to make that a self-contained short film. If all goes well, it will either be expanded this summer by filming the remaining two scenes, or those two scenes will be added to and embellished to for a separate-but-related short film.

Either way, the beach scene must become its own animal. I'll not make a short film that can't stand on its own two legs, even if that means transforming it into a different kind of film.

So that's where I am at the moment. Thoughts to flesh it out:

Transitional moments need to be added to go between the morning and midday scenes.

If this thing is to become completely a metaphor for human history, then adding a night scene might be the proper way to end it as well. That would have to be done day-for-night -- unless dusk would be more appropriate...but then wouldn't we want to show the sun rising?...At some point, as in: in the next few minutes, a decision will have to be made.

A concluding night scene would also require a transitional moment between midday and night.

....

I'm getting indecisive. Is this about nature moving on without man? Or about man's place in nature? The latter I think. So it ought to end with nighttime, man having disappeared.

There can always be some sort of insert shot of the sun rising if it feels like we need something like that...although how can we end with the camera roll stopping? Maybe that should be reserved for the full piece.

Taken on its own, this scene is without a conclusion unless we trace it straight into night, and allow the sun to rise again.

Time to write.

Super- & 16mm Film & Bolex Camera Info

2008-04-15T23:12:00.000-07:00

History of 16mm:
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/16_mm_film

Movies shot on 16mm:
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Category:Films_shot_in_Super_16

Overview of Bolex:
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Bolex

Modifying a Bolex Rex3, Rex4 and Rex5:
http://www.saunalahti.fi/animato/s16/s16.html

Modern S16mm:
http://www.studiodaily.com/filmandvideo/technique/craft/f/shooting/4340.html

S16mm Testimonials:
http://www.moviemaker.com/directing/article/super_16_renaissance_keeps_growing_2906

More on S16mm:
http://ukfilm.org/features/shooting-super16mm

Bolex Website:
http://www.bolex.ch/NEW/

Bolex manuals:
http://www.intervalometers.com/resource/manuals.php

Bolex Features and History:
http://www.city-net.com/~fodder/bolex/history/

How does one perform performance capture?

2008-04-15T21:29:00.000-07:00

The plan: shoot an 8 - 15 minute short film on 16mm -- FILM film. It will be three scenes averaging between 2 and 5 minutes each, with an epilogue that returns to the first scene. Yes, this will be a non-linear story. Surprise surprise. But that's okay, because it's part of the point this time around. I'm not sure if I'm using non-linearity as a crutch this time around, but it at least serves a genuine purpose in the story.

The purpose: to both a) engage the viewer by offering a mysterious proposition in the opening scene; and b) to force the viewer to continually recontextualize their perceptions of the characters and their actions based on the information they receive and the order in which they receive it.

Questions I hope to provoke: Is the main character good or bad? Are his actions justified? Does he deserve our sympathy? Does he represent the whole of the human race? If not, are the dinner guests or rioting prisoners any different? How?

The kinds of art I admire in an aspirational sense present situations and characters that compel viewers to ask questions, without providing them with discreet answers. While my short film will draw some sort of conclusion, I think if effectively handled it won't be perceived as an answer, but as more of a concluding question. Food for thought sort of thing.

The problem I have at the moment is that while the broadstrokes of the story and characters, and some of the specifics, have been developed, I feel like it has the possibility of being dead in the water. Leaden under the weight of its own pomposity. It needs to have a certain fleetness, even while not losing any of the serious over- and under-tones.

My teachers believe the best way to attain this sensibility is to "perform your film" -- any way you can. My interpretation of this is to make the film feel as if it were crafted with the kind of craft only human intuition can achieve. The way an experienced stage actor will vary their performance depending upon an audience's reception. The way an experienced camera operator (read this article now) can in Brett Simon's words "breath with an actor". Or the way a camera operator can hand-crank a camera, slowing and speeding up the amount of film exposed, depending upon the moment-to-moment feeling they have of being in the scene. Performance, as I see it, is a way of making a work of any kind feel made by human hands -- esp. in this increasingly automated world we live in. It is a way of avoiding the clinical, the precise. It makes things a little more messy, a little more human -- even if the subject matter is about the end of the human race (see Children of Men). Which, come to think of it, makes the human element all the more imperative. Even a movie as (wonderfully) crass and (delightfully) low-brow as Crank has a feeling of the performed -- manic, depraved, and gleefully carefree as it may be. I think that's why I like the movie so goddamn much, actually. David Lynch with Inland Empire is another fantastic example of how the varying, digressing, fundamentally human touch can elevate even the most grueling of filmic experiences.

Speaking of human digressions...

I want to perform my film. I don't know how.

That's where I am.

Revising vs Rewriting

2008-03-07T00:14:00.000-08:00

How does one distinguish the two? Is one more appropo than the other? Under which circumstances?

That's my dilemma at the moment. I've written a rough draft of a short story, wrote a week ago to be precise, and tomorrow my "final" draft is due--I'm thinking it's just going to be a "second" draft. The problem is, I like how my story is now: a dry, objective, uninflected compare/contrast story on a usually emotionally messy and obscured situation: a dysfunctional relationship. My hope was to ask: "To what extent are we bound to repeat history?" In this case, in relationships. Are we pre-determined by the actions of our parents, siblings, friends, to treat our significant others as we have witnessed those around us treat theirs? How true is it to say we are products of our environments? Surely, there are those who can transcend, but what about the rest of us?

Those were the initial guiding questions for my story, and so I came up with a structure that essentially split the story in two: the first section for Kelli, our female character, the second for dane, our male character. The beginning, middle, and end serve as "omniscient" transitions for the narrative, looks at the relationship in question. The two sections are about each characters' points of reference regarding relationships: they're all dysfunctional. The question is whether or not these two who have problems but obviously care about each other, are bound to fall into the same traps that their surrounding relationships fell into.

Unfortunately, as well written as parts of it are, I don't think it makes for a very engaging story. It lacks a destination, as a matter of course, and it doesn't have much in the way of true conflict, only conflict as required by the story. I named the character Dane as a nod to Hamlet, the greatest procrastinator in literary history, but I don't externalize Dane's inner turmoil as Bill does Hamlet's. It's repressed, supressed. My professor told me that non-comedic short stories require emotion, either directly evoked or repressed in ways that evoke them anyways...And he's right.

But does finding a "plot" or a series of actions, make this necessarily a more touching story? I sort of wrote this as therapy to try and grapple with questions that have been plaguing me about Marie and I's relationship, so does moving away from that, casting judgement on the proceedings, crafting an end for a story that doesn't really have one--do these things betray my story? Or do they just keep me from being like any other self-indulgent junior artist?

Why write at all if you write for no one? That is the question. But on the flip side of the coin: why write for anyone if you don't first write for yourself? That is the OTHER question. Am I betraying myself by straying from my intent for the piece, just to draft something that is more dramatically satisfying?

Exacerbating this, is that I know the piece is flawed as is, especially my use of epic similes which are hugely lopsided toward the beginning of the story...and then...slowly...fade...away...
at...the...e...n...d as I run out of creative similes.

The primary example I've looked at is Stephen Crane's amazing short story "The Open Boat" about four survivors of a shipwreck as they struggle with exhaustion amid an indifferent sea. The majority of their struggle takes place as they drift about just outside the surf of a beach that would topple their boat if they tried to make a dash for shore...which is a problem because they're so exhausted, they would most definitely drown if they didn't get in close enough. Crane has four sharply defined characters, in a dire situation, with time and nature working against them, and then the brutal irony of contemplating death when they can see safety with their very own eyes. When they finally make a go for it, it is a very suspenseful sequence as there has been so much build up to it. And though three of them make it to shore, barely, one of them does not and even this 75% survival rate cannot stand up to the overpowering sense of loss at even just one of them drowning, literally, in water shallow enough to stand up in. Very, very powerful prose. And it's told in a very cool objective, deeply observational and unemotional voice. But the events are so powerful, that despite this distant voice, we can't help but be drawn in right into the open lifeboat with these men.

Obviously, I have a lot of admiration for this story. And I'm sure the weaknesses of my story stand in sharp contrast to this. My story is hardly a matter of life and death---even if one's relationship with their beloved (or lack thereof) is one of the most powerful emotional situations in human existence--I've still got content working against me. Relationship woes can heal, maybe, with time and the help of others, but death is irrevocable.

As a response to The Open Boat, I wrote a brief, but really, really engaging ending sentence that is sort of an extension of my short story, but the problem is that as is, the short story has almost nothing to do with this sort of ending. I'll put it below, just in case it never ends up in anything else I write:

"And years later, as he lay dying thousands of miles away from their old home, Dane could think of nothing else but why there were no stars in the sky."

A little context: the story opens comparing relationships to a binary star system, so bringing it back around to the stars is essential at the end, but the lack of stars is the lack of a relationship. Obviously, he would have to have ended their relationship for this ending to have any coherent meaning. The problem is integrating it in the piece. Ending with Dane's demise, not to mention setting it up, is a lot of reverse-engineering. And since the story is supposed to be objective, I would in fairness, need to include Kelli's status at the same time as Dane's death. And as I said, reworking this whole thing is a LOT of work...and I've got 11 hours and 49 minutes as of this writing...I've written more in less time, but still. I want to make the right decision. I want to craft a compelling piece, that still stays true to my artistic intent. Find that happy middle ground where the author and reader meet each other half-way. And I'm just not sure how far to go.

...I guess I could use one of John Cage's "Oblique Strategies" (yes, I am a dxarts major): "Take it all the way, then bring it make just a little."

I need to get to work.

Listening to: Arctic Monkeys

Sketching with Words

2008-02-11T16:18:00.000-08:00

A few light sketches of barely-parsed ideas regarding some preliminary thoughts:

With this next short story, I have two--three formal principles I want to fulfill:
1. I want to write a completely linear narrative
--> I feel liked I've been hiding my lack of facility with emotional storytelling behind a distracting veil of post-modern, non-linear and preciously ambiguous storytelling--and I'm tired of it. For now, at least.

2. I want to focus on developing a character before I develop the narrative
--> In tandem with my reliance upon fractured storytelling to hide a weak story, I feel like I've also been using non-linearity to hide weak (or non-existent) characters.

3. Develop a metaphor out of who the character is, using what s/he thematically does
--> I seem to have, so far, been callously using my characters to push my own propaganda. I haven't cared for them, or fell deeply in love or deeply hated them. Their purposes in my narratives aren't even, literally, skin deep. I want to feel passionately about my characters, the way I do about my ideas.

While I will probably never abandon my desire to sculpt/loop/fragment time--cinema is, after-all, one of only a few ways we can ever attain some sense of *visual* temporal objectivity over discrete moments of time--but I think I'd like to set it aside for the time being, and focus on the things that make a good story worth hearing/seeing/telling/showing: characters we love and love to hate, and putting them through their personal hells so they may or may not find their personal heavens. Someday, probably not very far off, I'll circle back to non-linear storytelling. But hopefully, by such time, I'll be armed with more narrative and characteristic confidence and finesse than is currently within my grasp.

Here's to trying.

Band-Aid recursion

2008-01-31T22:22:00.000-08:00

I have a 10-page short story to write tonight. Due by 1pm tomorrow. I haven't been putting it off or procrastinating or anything like that. I simply have not had enough time to work on it because it hasn't been as urgent a priority as work of my others classes simply because of due dates.

And now I'm going to be reaping the consequences of my decision to take 17 credits this quarter. And let me note that 5 of those credits are for a Computer Animation class that is really 10-12 credits worth of work. If I was taking only that class, I would still feel like I was taking a comfortable, not difficult though, full-time load.

That said, I made a conscious decision to take 17 credits, including this prose class, knowing that animation would be as much if not more of a bitch than last quarter--at this point, I'd say it's more of a bitch. But what's undeniable is the sheer amount of shit I'm learning in it. That is mos def true.

Of course, because of my ridiculous schedule, I've hardly had much time to spend wiht Marie, especially this last week or so. Naturally, it's been pretty rough for her. And when things is rough for her...they're rough for me. At the moment, I'm locked in a bit of an argument with her about whether or not I should come home tonight--

I'm at the undergrad library at uw, which is where I do my emergency writing, and I'm leery of going home because of the enormous amount of writing I have to do. If I went home now, I'd be surprised if I started writing before 2am. And I need to try to be half-finished by two, not getting started.

To be sure, I have a "plan" and two.five pages already written and I am something of a fast writer--but I have really bitten off quite a bit for myself this time.

To wit:
The story is a metaphor for the unending cycle of war, using the model of the myth of Sisyphus, transplanted onto the life of an aid station combat medic in an unnamed combat zone. I've also thought of leaving his name un-named as well. I'm still debating that count.

The story moves in cycles of three: Three incidents of trauma, three incidents of mundanity, bookended (as of this moment) by a first a scene in a mess hall where we meet the medic and his ill-fated medic buddy, and a final scene where he essentially becomes aware that this cycle of his daily routine, is for all intents and purposes, unending. The final line, I'm not sure if this is spoken or not, is : "All bleeding end eventually. Be patient."

That's it in a nutshell.

Some thoughts I've had today on it:
- The story is already rightfully episodic, I should embrace that and really highlight that as an attribute by adding perhaps chapter-breaks dare I say it, episode breaks?
- To reenforce the cyclical nature, I could keep flashing back to the mess-hall scene throughout, breaking the linear monotony of the episodes by, Lost-style, having flashbacks that reveal a truth about the current story.
- I'm not sure if I want to have the entire scene during the first flash-back, and with each subsequent one, just pare it down more and more until it's a purely graphical image
- Or if I want to break it up into relevant parts. I kind of think it could work either way, though it really might be better the latter way. That way the story's always moving forward.
- I think to help differentiate the flashbacks from the real-time stories, I'd like to have each one told in a different voice. Same character, just first person in one, 3rd in another.
- Should one be told in past tense and another in present? The perspective may help determine this...Though, do I want to be contrarian, or linear?
- The end, regardless of which way the perspective changes go, needs to be a sublimation of the two. And I think it ought to be told in first person.
- So if the end is in first person, present tense too, then perhaps the hospital scenes should be in first-person past tense, and the mess-hall scenes in third-person present
- I still need to figure out what to do with the bloody hands. It's a nice image, but it ultimately may not work

This is easily going to be the most flat-out ambitious story I've ever written. In terms of story, I've had to do a fair amount of research (both on technical stuff and on similar prose-efforts at extreme irony). Technically, this is going to be massively ambitious as well. And my slowly growing desire to make the arrangement of words on the page have a purely visual graphic quality as much as it has a linguistic quality will also be taken many steps beyond my last attempt. And I don't think I've ever had a more perfect marriage of theme and content in any of my work. I'm not sure I've ever had any fore-thought marriage of theme and content though, now that I think of it.

Researching Band-Aids Vol. 1

2008-01-22T00:07:00.000-08:00

The last post resulted in an idea for a short story that riffs on Camus' interpretation of the myth of Sisyphus by implanting his logic of the absurd and the notion of the infinitely looping, self-aware though it be, existence of man into a story about a medic who spends everyday tending to the mundane and the dramatic, and ends everyday trying to wash the blood from his hands but failing to do so.

The problems are as follows: 1) Balancing an appropriate level of detail with the overriding allegorical elements (hence "realistic allegory") which of course implies...
2) Research. I have to get my facts straight and my ideas concrete and my situations realistic (there's that word again), which in turn leads to...
3) Blood. The bookends of the piece are him trying to wash the blood from his hands but, failing to do so, giving up and finding a way to live with the blood on his hands. At the beginning, we don't know whose blood it is. At the end, he's washing the blood of his best friend off...The problem: blood doesn't stain...
5) But does iodine?
6) Place/time: How to root it in a particular level of detail sufficient to be richly evocative without embedding it in a specific conflict that has specific contexts...
7) Which brings us back to #1 (how appropo!): Balance the story's allegory with it's need for credible detail.

Anyway you swing this axe, it all comes down to research--which is exactly what I'm about to commence.

Writing is a Sisyphean Task

2008-01-15T02:08:00.001-08:00

The problem with a Rashomon-riff is that Kurosawa's film said pretty much everything there is to say about truth being a many-sided object, including that there can be no ultimate truth if there is no one truth.
-----
What was I thinking earlier? Back to Iraq but...the VBIED I was nearest to during my deployment was actually kind of humorous. They hid the explosives in a potato truck, so when the thing detonated, it flew mashed potatoes all over the street. Luckily, it malfunctioned. It blew the driver in half, and I think some shrapnel killed an Iraqi guard or two. But the thing I remember most was the street just being literally covered in potatoes. It was completely surreal. I wish I'd gotten a photograph of it, I really do. But at that point, I was so exhausted and sick of photography, that I couldn't even think creatively anymore with the still image. That coupled with the fact that I spent at least part of my time at the scene fending off guys requests to be photographed with body parts from the suicide bomber left me kind of de-motivated.

But what was I thinking earlier?

I was remarking on how one can easily lose their compass when confronted with such a disparately absurd tableau as the one I've tried to construct above. How do you react to a suicide bomber whose bomb malfunctioned but still managed to kill himself and possibly two others and left the road covered in potatoes? How do you react to something so utterly ridiculous? The potatoes just completely removes any sense of drama. And yet it can't be completely superfluous and comical because--hey!--there's a piece of an ear and--hey!--there's a trail of blood and--oh yeah!--that's where his foot went...I guess the way I worded it makes it kind of morbidly humorous, but nevertheless it's certainly not comical. Gallows humor? A certain kind of savage humor, definitely.

I think Camus answered this proposition best by (very paraphrased) saying something to the effect that when man is confronted with the reality of the absurd, his lucidity is what makes him happy. That even at his moment of greatest defeat, he can have his greatest triumph. Though he knows that his life is meaningless and all his efforts fruitless and futile, this clarity of vision is a victory over the absurdity of life in and of itself. So in that little epiphany lies man's transcendence. In the Absurd World, man cannot triumph over his fate but by accepting it...That's a very Zen philosophy.

Now the questions: how can I construct a story to embody that insight, deeply felt though it is.

MAN CANNOT TRIUMPH OVER HIS FATE BUT BY ACCEPTING IT

So we start with a character. A man. What is a properly Sisyphean fate for him in the context of a realistic allegory? His fate must be one that embodies infinite repetition. Something can't motivate his appreciation of his fate. It must be a self-realization or its worthless. Infinite repetition, with a break in the repetitive act that allows a moment of reflection before willfully charging once more into the breach.

So, parameters so far:
- Man
- Infinitely repetitive action
- Break in action to allow for reflection
- Realizes his fate every night and rises every morning to accept it

What is the ultimate repetitive occupation?

A medic in the army -- no nation, no conflict, just a medic -- wakes up everyday to triage the wounded and save the dying and goes to bed every night knowing that when he wakes up in the morning he will be doing exactly the same thing tomorrow --

....

And we're golden. Huzzah!

Writing for Writing's Sake Vol. 2

2008-01-14T23:52:00.001-08:00

So I've kind of ditched the "writer's block" headings for the above--mostly because I don't need the bad juju that comes with uttering those words. So I'll keep it at a more reflexive heading while I muse about what the fuck I'm going to write about...

I have to come up with a "Story Preview / Plan" for tomorrow (in addition to the parable I've already written), and the field is wide-open as far as ideas go. I think the one thing I'm going to try my best to avoid is Iraq-anything. The intent is for it to be a "realistic allegory"; so I could touch on philosophical issues raised by my experiences, but nothing directly Iraqi. Realistic allegory also means no talking pigs a la "Three Little Pigs" which, incidentally, we had to study this past week in the class.

I've internet-ed away the past hour ==> which means I'm leery of doing actual work. Probably because ideation is always the hardest fucking part. Starting with a blank slate and all...and I feel fresh out of good ideas. I had two good ones last night, between the revision of the story for my animation class and the parable that I wrote.

But tonight, tonight.

Writing for Writing's Sake

2008-01-10T17:34:00.000-08:00

I only have a few minutes before I have to depart for CSE Movie Nite Round 1 (starring Troy: the Director's Cut!?--we'll see if it makes any difference at all), but I've got a whole lot of writing to do tonight. However, since I don't have the time to get into any sort of groove in 10 minutes, I thought I'd just muse over it a tad.

Well the first part of my writing assignment for 384 involves writing a parable--that's the great thing about this class, by the way: we're not just given readings in a vacuum, we're given very specific readings with very pointed things to be studying towards to end of creativity. It's kind of nice actually, to not be given some massive tome, be expected to read it in a manner so fast that you might remember a sentence every other chapter, and then asked, "Well, what did you think?"

At any rate, we have to write a parable, a simple, effective, utterly concise story that carries some sort of metaphorical meaning(s). One I'm toying with is tentatively titled "The River" about a journey downriver by two(?) people. One of whom, for some reason, desires to go back up the river, but is reminded he cannot by his companion(s). I still need to work out the motivations and the ending, but I want the story to be slightly humorous, and very, very short. I'm aiming for 250 words, give or take. Definitely no more than 500.

The metaphor I want to play with is the notion that time lost cannot be regained. So regardless of how you spend your time, that is the only time you will be spending that time. It's kind of cheeky, and I'm not going to externalize this in the story, but essentially: "Life is a river that flows one direction. It has eddys and rapids and waterfalls, but always it flows downstream."

Kind of sweet, huh?

An Observation

2008-01-08T00:27:00.000-08:00

Now that I've gotten into to 384, and will likely (hopefully) get into 487 "Screenwriting" next quarter, I've seen a curious and welcome pattern emerge:

Fine Arts: DX200, 201, 202 (in progress)

Cinema: DX450, 451, 452, 453 (complete)

Animation: CSE458, 459, 460 (in progress)

Research: DX400 x 3 (in progress)

And finally:

Writing: ENGL284, 384, 487

With 384 bridging the gap between my completion of 284 and 487, I'll have a full-year's work in fiction writing that culminates with a study of screenwriting. Since I've done a full year's work in filmmaking (not counting 450 "intro to video"), am currently doing a full year's work in art-research and computer animation, and will complete a full year's work in broad-strokes digital arts and experimental media when I complete DXARTS 202 this Spring, it's fitting that I should add to that a full year's work of fiction writing. It feels good--it feels right.

And of course, all of that will culminate with a year of intense work on a single thesis project next year, likely to be a video of some epic ambition (though videos plural is a possibility).

Now it's just a matter of doing the work. Right, that thing.

A Quarterly Update

2008-01-07T22:52:00.000-08:00

The new quarter's begun, and not a moment too soon: I think around 1030 this morning as I got my ass out of bed, I finally shook the last vestiges of my fall quarter hangover. Every quarter my ass gets handed to me, I always think that's going to be the worst of it, and man is it ever downhill from here! Well, of course, I've had about five or six such moments over the last two years, and last quarter was definitely the heaviest of them. So it's likely that this quarter will be worse, yeah? I'm okay with that though, if I know that going in. And honestly, all it's going to compel me to do is manage my time more effectively...(which I just had trouble doing)...but more on that later.

The hard work was worth it though. I earned the highest GPA I've gotten since high school. Maybe higher than high school. But I also got more out of last quarter than I've yet gotten out of any quarter at UW. To wit: I went from zero knowledge of Maya to being somewhat comfortable with it; I co-animated a short animated film; I wrote and designed 5+ stories-for-film/animation; I made two videos--one vignette and one short film; I finally created a website for myself; and I wrote 5 prose short stories in the span of about three days. Now that it's all listed out and I can take a look at it--it's really not bad. Really, really not bad, what I accomplished in the span of two-and-a-half months.

But lets not start sucking each other's dicks--er, rather, my own--just yet. As I said, a new quarter's just begun. And it's likely to get more difficult, not less. So no dick sucking for me.

Speaking of this quarter, I got back-doored into English 384 "The Craft of Prose" literally just before I started this post. It's the next step up from English 284, the short story class I enrolled in last summer, took an incomplete in so I could go get fired off of a film in New York (still worth it though), and then finished up in a mad dash of writing this last quarter so as not to get a 0.0--which an INC converts to if it's not completed by the end of the following quarter. I'm actually looking forward to 384 quite a bit. It should be quite challenging, but when it comes to writing I'm not one to shake in my boots at a challenge--it's my natural talent. Still, my main concern is that it's going to be difficult and coupled with my computer animation class, I could have very, very little free time (a.k.a. sleep time) this quarter.

-- Just cut-off my first real time management violation. Typed the URL chud.com and hit ENTER. But I managed to cut myself off just before the page finished loading. I dig the website, and find the writer's opinions entertaining and sometimes even enlightening, but the days where the words of critics were gospel to my sensibilities is over. And incessantly checking their site for updates over and over again does not get me any closer toward being a good filmmaker. If anything, it deters me by forcing my to give up sleep and TLC with my lady in favor of a website that I can handily check once a day for a few minutes and get all the info I need from it. Instead, my habits tend toward the "Let's see, I'm getting bored with my current activity, I'll take a quick break." Except that this habit is so ingrained, the afore-written thought-process is barely an after thought now.

This is surely the scatter-shot epicenter of my time mismanagement tumor, and one of my primary goals this quarter is to surgically remove it from my afflicted habits.

Speaking of goals, let's talk tangibles (in no particular order):
1. Continue my exercise/diet routine
2. Manage my time more effectively by cutting out needless internet surfing
3. Narrow-in on improving my fiction writing
4. Regularly take notes in my notebook
5. Maintain my website
6. Post regularly in this blog
7. Pace myself in terms of homework, doing more now so I can do less later
8. Take the initiative to pro-actively engage with the learning opportunities presented to me this quarter regardless of their apparent degree of relevance to my cinematic pursuits (e.g. Maya minutia, prosaic writing (as opposed to image writing), non-cinematic digital and experimental arts
9. Being when it's time to be, doing when it's time to do--and knowing which is appropriate for when
10. As always: BECOME A BETTER FILMMAKER

Musings on Writer's Block vol. 2

2007-12-13T09:17:00.000-08:00

Here I am, come upon another freewrite. Struggling to write. It’s 8:58am, been up all night. I’ve written two short stories in the last 16 hours, that total about 9 pages between the two of them. I like the both of them. They both say very specific things about my experiences in Iraq. Unfortunately, that’s the problem. They’re both about Iraq. Neither is really fictional. Something more akin to embellished, refined, narrative-ized non-fiction…The problem is that this is a fiction class. I’m already worried about having to do some major rewriting to fictionalize them for my prof. But I’ve also written five Iraq stories total for this class. Only one is truly fictional. I used my emotions and put myself into a Dear John type situation and it turned out really well. Very cinematic. It’ll make a good short film whenever I’m able to cull enough resources for it…But that’s not helping me now.

I have one…last…story to write…before I can move on to working on a story for a different class!

I started writing a variation on the Thorn story that was beaten into a pulp in my Story & Animation class by two months of reiterations. This time I removed all of the magical elements and stripped it down to just the abstract visuals, replacing the magical thorn with shards of a broken mirror…and I couldn’t stomach it. Not the violence itself, but rather that there was no discovery in it. It felt like I was going through the motions. I knew exactly where the violence was going to end up, and what made me sick of it was that it was so senseless. I suppose that was part of the original point, but after having my nose rubbed in the filth of my own design for two months straight, I just didn’t have the heart to follow it through. That’s the thing. If I’d had the heart, if I’d felt like what I was writing was saying something worthwhile, or allowing a new discovery, rather than just depravity, I could have followed it through to its very bitter end. But not this time. I’m finished with that story. I’m ready to move on to illustrations and evocations of greater emotional complexity than a visceral, gut-wrenching reaction. I kept thinking about early Cronenberg and Lynch, and their films work on levels beyond the purely visceral. The visceral is reserved for shock horror, and that’s about it.

So. Do I continue to strip-mine my Iraq experiences? Or do I progress onto something more complex? More original?

On second thought, I may have found a way to get the fragmented story to work. If I make it a piece about heroism as deformative performance art. I think I can see it now. That was the problem. I couldn’t see it. Or what I saw wasn’t clicking. Now I see it. And it could be beautiful.

Ever see Perfume? Beautiful movie. My kind of movie.

Musings on Writer's Block

2007-12-13T04:03:00.000-08:00

I’m afraid it’s a little self-indulgent, writing about not being able to write. But I suppose it’s a clever enough way of writing something. Someone, was it you?, once said that if you’re writing is blocked, then write about that write, just write. That is the key.

I feel like every idea I come up with is either ham-handedly personal—i.e. has to do yet again with Iraq—or it’s ham-handedly impersonal. Narratives that go nowhere. Conversations that exist simply to exist or to highlight some pompous philosophical issue.

For example:
3 priests. They all three have discovered their Bibles are literally empty. This prompts a crisis of faith in each. And each reacts differently. The first thinks that it doesn’t matter whether its phony or not, the fact is his congregation believes it and, moreover, they believe because they believe he believes. And he doesn’t feel he has any right to take that away, even if he wanted to, which he doesn’t of course. The second believes that even if the “Word of God” is nothing but empty phrases, they still matter as long as we choose to live by them. In his case, he feels he cannot lie about their being phony, but questions what phony really means. His quest is to make the “Laws of God” into the Laws of Man, by reconciling the phoniness of their supernatural nature with our need to continue to abide by them. He also seeks to reconcile the difference between the spiritual and the supernatural, that we no longer to justify the spiritual by falling back on the supernatural. The third priest agrees with both, but seeks something beyond the physical constraints of our imagination, something that needs no supernatural nor humanly explanation or justification. He seeks nirvana for himself, so that he may bring it to others.

Now, the ideas that I wish to address couldn’t be more topical or relevant, but it is the story that I’m attempting to hang them on that continues to crumble under the weight of a heavy hand. I mean really, three priests having a spiritual crisis? No shit. Why not make a story about three clowns having a humor crisis while we’re at it. I suppose I could transplant the thematic ideas onto three ordinary peoples’ lives, but then there is no story, only a dialectic.

Example 2:
Three guys are arguing about the importance of having a MacGuffin that determines the political future of their country. In this case, the MacGuffin really is nothing, and they discuss the relative importance of the non-object now that they know the truth. The conversation covers the same broad-strokes existentialism as the three priests’ conversation, just in dealing with politics instead of religion.

Example 3:
A character is told he is a character in a movie and where he can find the camera. The story ends with the character acknowledging that everything he says or does is merely a facsimile of some almighty author. His dramatic realization is that when the movie ends, so does he. This is really an expansion of a story I wrote for a short film I made recently. The object would be the camera, which the two characters’ conversation kind of beats around the bush about, without ever really specifying what exactly they’re discussing. The shortcomings of the film is that it never directly addresses the issue of being a character in a film. And the fact that the camera he finds is a security camera, only confuses things. It turns the story of the film into one about discovering a security camera, and not one about discovering you’re a character in a movie.

The real problem I have with all of these stories is that they exist to serve only two functions: I’m looking to create a conversation between characters; and I want a soapbox to preach from. Iraq is always a goldmine of vignettes, but I don’t think that’s the only thing I can do. The problem is that everything else I write is pretty worthless.

I feel like I need to be more creative and stop writing about shit that’s so personal. But everybody writes shit that’s personal, right? Isn’t that why shit’s good? I mean Cormac McCarthy saw a massive fire on a hillside above a motel he and his son were staying at in New Mexico and so he wrote a novel about a father trying to protect his son in a world on nuclear fire from the worst kind of predator, cannibals. That’s a really pretty simple, brilliant interpretation/extension of that inspirational event. I wish I could do the same.

I haven’t been experiencing anything lately, is part of the problem. I’ve been stuck in a ridiculous, extended grind of school and we all know that school isn’t really something dramatically captivating.

Maybe I’ll write about Iraq once more with feeling.

Sketch 1: a vignette

2007-11-19T02:22:00.000-08:00

In lieu of "100% concrete, artistic production", today I filmed a vignette--I think "short film" would do both my video and the phrase a disservice--so it's "a vignette" by yours truly. I think what I like most about it is its simplicity. I wasn't reaching after some grand--grandly pretentious--ambition. I just wanted to play with the moving image, and allow myself to improvise a little with it both photographically and editorially.

The only guiding principle for this filmic vignette was that a journey would be shown only through the beautiful convex mirrors that decorate many of the garage stairwells on the UW campus. And by "journey" I don't mean anything unnecessarily complex, only that the character is going from one place...to another.

This was born out of a desire to further explore an image that cropped up in a short film I made about a year-and-a-half ago in those same stairwells. I had captured only one image (which you can see above) using one of the mirrors and today it is far and away my favorite part of the film. If you watch it, (called, painfully, "Shadow Way"), you'll notice that I looped that and two other shots three times at varying lengths. I did this in part because the character's journey down the stairwell was too short as it was with only those shots, but also because I just fucking loved how it looked.

So in a sense, I guess you could say that I'm simply indulging myself. So be it. In plain terms, my goal/ambition/hope for all of my DXARTS work isn't first to make something "good", but to "make". The "good" can follow. For the time being, I'm primarily concerned with forming productive habits. Though don't think that I simply don't care about something of mine being good. Au contraire, I perhaps sometimes care too much. To the point that I end up overthinking the project. That's happened plenty in my short artistic career, and it usually ends with me either dropping the idea entirely out of intimidation, or it ends with me pushing ahead with a bunch of half-baked ideas. I'm trying to un-learn that, and to re-learn how to appreciate the moving image. How to see my creations for what they truly are and not for what I wish them to be.

I am positive that without being self-aware, without being emotionally authentic and intellectually concise, I cannot create a work that compels others to be aware of it: it will lack authenticity and concision.

That's not to say that this vignette is concretely either of those ambitions or is even intended to be. They are the end goal, and this vignette is but a pebble on the path. It is on the path, to be sure, but a pebble it nevertheless is.

2007-11-08T16:36:00.001-08:00

This has been a killer week for me. I've been increasingly tired to the point that today, for the first time all quarter, I started nodding off in class. Though that's got to be some kind of a record for me, it's not because I haven't been getting enough sleep.

I think I'm just getting burned-out. Not because I'm doing too much per se, I love (most) of what I'm doing, more because I feel like the ratio between how much time and effort I'm dedicating to my schoolwork this quarter and what I'm getting back from it (i.e. grades) is pretty disproportionate.

I know I'm learning. At the moment I'm confident of this. And I'm also self-aware enough to know that that is the important part for me. Unfortunately, it's hard to see the forest when you're burrowing your head in a tree. I have so little time now to work on anything outside of animation, that my personal life is pretty much non-existent and even my DXARTS research studio is suffering a bit. Which is pretty shitty when you consider how hard I've worked to get into DXARTS: now that I'm here, I'm pouring all my effort into something else. To be fair, the Animation Capstone does count as a DXARTS sequence. Still, it's the principle of the situation that bothers me.

I'm not sure that by purging my thoughts on this situation I'll actually solve any of these issues, but some clarity if nothing else would be nice.

...more to come later...

sketch_Space vol. 5: Sketched Dimensions

2007-11-05T04:30:00.000-08:00

dimensions

learning to see. again.

free of authorial intent

focuses on image composition, construction, capturing

a series of haikus, vignettes, exercises as preproduction

inspirations: d lynch ==> inland empire, d cronenberg ==> storyboard-free, blocking-dictated

culminates with a conversational sequence between actors/actresses (never filmed one)

blocking will dictate composition per cronenberg

modus operandi: make language and action meaningfully photographic

primary impetus: re-learn how to see what is in front of me; distinguish this from what i "place" there

secondary impetus: conversation construction, actor rehearsals, blocking

undercurrent(s): blur the line between ideation and creation; make the process the product and vice-versa

threads: haikus (complete cinematic agency) and taped rehearsals (photographically agentless) will be woven into a vignette in which both captor and captured will have mutual cinematic agency

to be transplanted to: students.washington.edu/eledrew asap

sketch_Space Vol. 4: Spaces for Sketching

2007-10-29T03:29:00.000-07:00

Quick update: I've been working on an as-yet-bare bones sketchspace at my students.washington.edu/eledrew webspace and intended to have it online by tonight, but it seems I'm having some technical difficulties and I am afraid I'm in need of some sleep. So unfortunately, that's going to have to wait for tomorrow.

As far as my cultural webs go, I'm still working on breaking them down into categories, but it goes something like this:

-Arts
-Economics
-Ethics
-History
-Politics
-Society

And each of these may eventually have subdivisions within them. I think I may ultimately not have such broad categories, but this will be a project specific thing. I sort of see my cultural webs section as a place where I can link to and comment on anything apart from my own experiences that has nevertheless influenced them, my thinking, or my current project. I think I'll just use these broad categories as jumping-off points, general areas that ought to be considered when researching for a project. The 'referents' section will be a place that categorizes those personal experiences not directly related to easily identifiable external sources. It will serve as a more intimate place for thoughts, notes, and general, unifying principles.

sketch_Space vol. 3: on Word and Image

2007-10-22T00:52:00.001-07:00

I wanted to share a few more thoughts about the sketch-space concept as I envisioned it in my last few postings. I still think the idea I illustrated would make a great, meta-medium for artists (and anyone else who develops multi-media "projects") to use as a site for their own art-research. But that said, I think it being built by myself may be somewhat out of the question.

I say that primarily because I think that the research, training, and man-hours that would be involved in creating a modifiable, web-hosted, 3-D environment would take me completely away from the art-research I ought to be doing. I have no doubt that the experience would be a fantastic learning experience for me, but I know myself all too well to think that my interests wouldn't circle back around to the image faster than I could type http://eledrew.blogspot.com. That fact remains that no matter how many different media I dabble in, it always, always comes back to film. Cinema or, in more artworld-friendly words, the "moving image", is where my heart is. Always has been, always will be. I didn't write short stories at age nine because I wanted to be a writer, I wrote short stories because I wanted to make movies only I didn't have the means. Even all those teenage years I spent wanting to be a novelist--it was because I thought that's how I'd get into movies. Same goes for film criticism. I didn't want to be a film critic indefinitely, I just thought it was a means to an end--like Godard or Truffaut.

Essentially, I'm saying that while I still very much like the idea, I don't think I'm the one to build it. And I say that not because I wouldn't enjoy it, but because it would take me away from working on art and push me towards creating a product.

Bottom line: I'm not a web-guru, I'm a filmmaker.

Which brings me back to the blog: although it's easy to see the blog as a cop-out, since it lacks so many bells and whistles and it's presentation is really quite uncreative, it is also so effective for that very reason. As you've read, my relationship with the word has always paralleled my relationship with the image, and so it shouldn't come as any surprise that I would be drawn to both of those as my primary means of expression. The word is fast, cheap, and out of control, so it beats the image for pure, stream-of-consciousness thought-processing (hence the preceeding and following). And since I'm interested in "storytelling through the moving image"--a really, really, really ashamedly pretentious way of saying "movies"--it makes sense that the de facto form of communication would figure predominantly in my ideation-creation, art-research process.

sketch_Space vol. 2: Titles

2007-10-15T03:25:00.000-07:00

A few titles before I forget:

worXpace
worXhop
funXion space

sketch_Space vol. 1

2007-10-15T02:18:00.000-07:00

I think my "sketchspace"--or whatever we end up calling the damn thing--will be built at my UW web site: students.washington.edu/eledrew, but seeing how confused I am on how we're to proceed with it at the moment, I'm going to settle for some bloggin'.

The specific assignment this week is several-fold:

1) REFLECT ON THE CONCEPT OF THE "SKETCHSPACE": My understanding of the sketchspace is that it is to be a web-hosted "environment" essentially, that serves as both workshop for the artist and document for the public. Process and product are to be one in it, hence art-research (a phrase which I'm actually really starting to like, if for no other reason than a purely aesthetic one: I like how it sounds, all badass and such). While we are expected to conduct our art-research through the medium/ia that the artifact is engaged in, the space itself must be a meta-medium (isn't that what the internet is, a medium that encompasses all media? Other than a series of tubes, of course...). It must be versatile: able to host the development of a project of any one or number of media, but once hosted, able to accommodate only those media engaged. A meta-media space that can transmute into a media-singularity, any media-singularity, and host such media exquisitely, as if the space was designed for only that media. To my mind, what this means is that the space has to encompass the different media I use in my ideation and creation processes. To wit: notebook/sketchbook, blog, video, stills, prose, a Google/wiki bar for quick searches, and audio-notes log. Not everyone uses all of these, some don't use any, so the space would have to be mod-able to fit the artist's own personal tastes. I think the most important thing though, is that it really needs to be convenient. The best thing about a notebook is it's backpocket convenience. The nice thing about a blog is that I can ramble on and on and work-out all of my thoughts. The nice thing about peers is being able to bounce ideas off of them. The nice thing about video is that it's the thing itself. And so on. If one has to manage this many different media, or more, I can imagine the temptation to get lazy and cease collating all of the data is quite apparent. So convenience, accessibility, clarity, are my primary concerns when it comes to how I would organize such a space. The first image that comes to mind is of a 3D octopus, similar to how we were taught to draw character traits in junior high lit classes. Character in the middle, with all of their traits springing off in various directions around. I'd imagine the hub of the site being the artist's name with their past, current and future projects springing off in 3D space around them. The user would click on whichever project he desired, and the octopus would morph from the artist to the project, with all the various media involved in the creation of it now replacing the projects in the tendrils.

This still leaves several problems: how to incorporate the tangibiles: notes, sketches, etc. short of manually scanning them in one by laborious one. Also, how to make the media itself, say video, dominate the art-research process.

This last question is the one that gnaws at me. Am I overthinking the sketchspace? Is it as simple as "doing" instead of "thinking about doing"? Probably somewhere in-between.

2) to establish an appropriate webspace where I will both document my art-research process, as well as build the space. Check, on that one.

3) EXTRACT FROM YOUR PROJECT/CRITIQUE SEEDS FOR NEW WORK AND DOCUMENT THEM IN THE CONTEXT OF STARTING POINTS IN YOUR SKETCHSPACE: It's really difficult to proceed on this step without answering some of those questions I posed in the first part of the assignment. But I suppose if there were a place to start, it would be in the critique of my project (uh, maybe like it says to do?). The critique was of "a product of my environment" and it was a pretty interesting one (read: harsh). The kind of critique that reminds me why I wanted to do DXARTS in the first place. It was essentially a critique of the incongruity between my Big Ideas for the piece and the piece itself. Noel railed on my artist's statement for being a series of post-rationalizations, which isn't entirely valid, but the reason he perceived them as post-rationalizations is 100% valid: they aren't there. The artist's statement isn't so much a post-rationalization, as it is a post-vocalization of pre-production intent. Of course, the fact that I'm the filmmaker has blinded me quite a bit (moreso than I'm comfortable with, really) to the flaws in the piece. I think what was most interesting about the critique is that it's completely different from the critiques I got in 452 when I first presented the thing. Rachel gave me a "whoa", Jim who I respect a lot (even though the bastard doesn't return my emails now) thought it was "the best video" I'd done in the class, and Noel's initial critique amounted to: "good cinematography, good editing, sound not so good, needed to be more drawn-out at beginning". We exchanged a few emails on this after class last week, but I think its interesting that he gave me one kind of crit, mostly positive, but constructive when negative, on his first viewing, and on the second totally ripped the film. As he said, he felt that ripping me the second time around would be good for me, whereas he may not have felt that way the first time around. If nothing else, I think it illustrates one of two things: the versatility of image-meaning (not necessarily my film's though), or the versatility of critical-perception. Probably somewhere between the two.

Either way, Noel was right. Bottom line: it was good for my soul. Unexpected, a little shocking, and stung the mane a tad, but it raised the bar for the class and for my motivation to improve. It's one less video I have to weave in my laurels, and now I don't think they can support my weight were I to rest on them. Thank Buddha!

New (School) Year, New Classes, Same Goal: see above

2007-09-30T18:12:00.000-07:00

I've long since returned from New York/New Jersey and the short of it is this: you can't fit a square peg into a round hole, especially when the square knows it's a square and tries to anyways. Trans: I'm not an assistant, knew I wasn't, but tried to hack it anyways. Whoops.

----------

Onto the business of the moment. I'm more or less a DXARTS major now, which is great. This year, my time is going to be dominated by the Computer Science dept.'s Animation Capstone series. The class is more story-centric than the DXARTS equivalent, and is designed to provide us with an immersive, industry-like experience during the production of a short animated film.

In tandem with the capstone class, I'm taking a Technology & Story class that is responsible for developing stories for the class-wide animated short we're to begin work on winter quarter. It's entirely story-focused, which will be great for me since I feel like last year's video sequence made me comfortable enough with the moving image as an artifact itself, for me to be able to focus more on just the act of storytelling itself. It's a process of give-and-take, I think.

On the DXARTS side of things, I'll be taking DXARTS 400 all year as well, which is a two-credit undergraduate research seminar. From what I've heard, it's a pretty open-ended experience, that is just supposed to allow us students to dream-up a project and follow-through with it. Needless to say, it should be pretty fun.

So, all that said, the subsequent posts in this here blog are going to involve either story ideation for animation, or for project ideation for DXARTS. And maybe a little cross-pollination of the two.

Mas photographicas

2007-07-30T16:28:00.001-07:00

Taken at a bar in Jersey called the Big Apple. I think it's supposed to be ironic or something.

Brooklyn, NYC from Midtown Manhattan.
Tribeca, Manhattan, NYC, NY, USA, Earth from Hoboken, NJ:My room:
My new room.

Crises of Conscience

2007-07-30T16:05:00.000-07:00

Last week was really rough, not so much because of the job, but because of the job. What I mean to say is that, there was nothing directly related to the job that was frazzling me, but in an indirect way, it was getting to me quite a bit last week. I just had, time and again, slip-up after slip-up. None except one were particularly major, but minor lapses in memory happening several times a day can add up pretty goddamn quick.

I finally found a place over the weekend, so I'm no longer crashing on Andy Meissner's couch. And I can already feel the difference my own space is having on my motivation. The place is quite close to work and the roommates are pretty cool (both are in the film industry as well, one an NYU alumnus)--BUT IT'S STILL IN JERSEY. Man, Jersey. Oh man. The stories are true. Rather, that there aren't many, is the real story. One of the film's casting associates had to hand-deliver to me a DVD of an audition for Brett to look at and she road the PATH (Port Authority Trans-Hudson) into Jersey from Tribeca--for the first time. I have no idea how long she's lived in NYC, but if I had to guess, at least two or three years. And she'd never been over to Jersey.

My advice: don't vacation here.

All that said, today, Monday, has gone better than all the wellness in last week combined. Not that today has gone spectacularly well or something, just that it hasn't gone spectacularly wrong. Or something.

On the bright side, Marie's going to be coming out to stay with me for three weeks in less than three weeks (still with me?). I love Seattle, but it's really the people, not the place that I miss. The girl, the fam, the friends. And the Catz.

On another bright side, I've seen the new Danny Boyle (Trainspotting, 28 Days Later, etc) movie "Sunshine" twice now, and I'm almost convinced that it's my favorite movie so far this year, just edging out Hot Fuzz. I think Hot Fuzz might ultimately be the *better* movie, but Sunshine so spectacularly caters to my baser tastes in cinema (without making me feel the least bit guilty about it), that there's no way I could not love it. And I love the shit out it.

While we're comparing movies, why not go the full half-mile (seeing that the year's more than half-over):
1. Sunshine
2. Hot Fuzz
3. ...

Was anything else released this year? I also saw the Steve Buscemi movie Interview that is quite good, if not good enough to "list". I really liked Knocked Up also, but again, can there really be only these few films? Ouch...

I suppose the best movie I've seen this year period is Lawrence of Arabia. And the best movie I've seen this year that I hadn't seen before would probably be Ivan the Terrible I&II.

At any rate, I'm hoping to punch-out any minute now. I'll be in touch.

Hoes, Hobos, and Hoboken

2007-07-17T10:19:00.000-07:00

My phone died just in the nick of time yesterday--good excuse for me to buy an iPhone. And while I'm at it, why not the most expensive one too? Guess what, it's fucking awesome. Oh and there goes a week's pay that I haven't gotten yet. Oops!

Since all my love's been NYC-directed, and for good reason, I thought I'd share some Hoboken, NJ love too:

1. Hoboken is the birthplace of baseball, a sport that is much more fun to play than it is to watch
2. Hoboken is the birth place of Frank Sinatra. I think there's a reason he ended up in Vegas.
3. Hoboken is the setting of Elia Kazan's On the Waterfront. I think there's a reason that movie is so depressing. At least Brando coulda been a conteda: Hoboken neva wuhs.

The Streets of New York...

2007-07-16T13:07:00.001-07:00

It may not be the Streets of Fallujah (TM), but it's the closest in two-and-a-half years I've felt to driving the old IED alley a.k.a "Iraqis get the fuck out of the way"

Daylight Is an Awful Film

2007-07-16T13:03:00.000-07:00

So this is the Lincoln Tunnel, running along the riverbed of the Hudson, in transit to Manhattan. I'm pretty sure this is where the bad Stallone movie Daylight took place. Either this or the Holland Tunnel. Either way, it's still a bad, bad movie. And now I want to watch it.

Dr. Jekyll Capitulates to Mr. Hyde

2007-07-16T12:57:00.000-07:00

Back in the New York groove

2007-07-16T12:31:00.000-07:00

I'm doing alright. NYC is great of course, I'm living with Andy Meissner
right now, and he's been a really great friend. I'm trying to find a place
that isn't too far from the production office, won't break the bank, and is
without weirdo roommates, but so far, no such luck. Yesterday I struck out on
all three counts.

I spent my birthday stuck in traffic, doing laundry and taking
muffin orders for today, so I was really pretty miserable. Monday my first
day was the worst though. I seriously can't compare it to any other day
except reception at basic. I was carrying about 60 lbs of shit, wearing nice
but not functional in the least clothes, and walking around in 105 degree
heat. To add insult to that, I was twice given the wrong subway stop to get
off at, but proper directions from said stop, and ended up walking probably
over 5 miles--again, with shit and in nice clothes. To top that off, I came
in and got the "speech" from the line producer about the 1001 things to do
and the 100001 things not to do. I really couldn't write fast enough, it was
ridiculous. And then I didn't get to bed until 2am, and had to get up at 5am
after sleeping 3 hrs on the red-eye the night before. I wasn't expecting
sympathy when I got in, but neither was I expecting a complete disregard for
my situation. Oh well, right?

So if you haven't gotten the idea, the job kinda sucks. I haven't done
anything particularly cool, except maybe transporting the director's photo
book collection which I had a few moments to browse through. At any rate,
I've got to go finish the director's laundry now...

Please shoot me. ;)

Concertina Prospectus

2007-05-18T01:19:00.000-07:00

For my midterm/final in the Creativity class I'm currently taking (mostly as it relates to business however, not something I was warned of in advance) we were charged with coming with a creative Idea (midterm) and then taking the first step toward realizing it (final).

For mine, I proposed a short film that I may try to shoot sometime this summer, that I was kicking around as one of the possible projects for me to do as my video thesis. Of course I chose the more ambitious projects for my thesis, but I still quite appreciate this idea.

The pitch: A young man tries to protect a ball of bloody razor wire from a group of worshippers who would take it from him.

The first step: drawing three Anchor Images.

Diagnoses: on videos and westerns

2007-05-18T01:02:00.000-07:00

Although I'm in a huge time-crunch with Invert at the moment, things seem to be going reasonably well with it. Except for final trimming and audio, it looks as if I'm pretty much finished with the first and last shots, which together amount to about 1/6 of the running time. So for two days spent on 1/6, that leaves me ten days to do the rest. That's not too bad. Although, I'm also hoping that now that I have After Effects a little more under control and my workflow down, that I'll at least be able to shave 1/4 that time off. I need to leave two days for the title sequence and end-credits, and two days for the audio--which leaves me 10 to finish keying and compositing. Not too bad. A little tight, but not too bad.

It seems I'll also be reshoots a shot or two this Saturday, and picking up two or three as well. My only worry is accomplishing that in three hours' time.

But that's pretty much it for the video--fingers crossed, it's all down hill from here.

My only other major concern is being able to finish my animation for the humanities class I'm in. But as video is my priority, that's where all of my effort's been going. We'll see what that bodes for getting into either of the animation classes next year--not that I have a choice.

Just watched: Seraphim Falls and there really is no excuse for Pierce Brosnan and Liam Neeson to be starring in an R-rated, independently financed Western that is essentially a two-hour chase sequence and for it to SUCK. Well, it's not awful. But man, oh man, is it ever lame. Never did I think that I was watching anything more than two modern actors (who are usually so much better) playing dress-up in New Mexico. Although I'm sure my reaction to this tepid western has something to do with recently reading Cormac McCarthy's savage Blood Meridian...

Promised

2007-05-01T01:13:00.000-07:00

Produced

2007-05-01T00:03:00.000-07:00

The shoot went.

Mollie, Ryan, Collin, and Chris (Waldon) came through in a big way for me. Having such an intelligent, hard-working, enjoyable crew really made me feel like I was actually directing. It was exhilarating. And I don't mean that in a power-hungry way. Just that I was able to focus mostly on the creative aspect of the filming, while others capable and willing would translate my idea to reality. It was truly exhilarating.

Now this didn't last the whole time, only a couple of hours really, as staying for the whoole shoot was really out of the question for everybody except me--and my actor.

Speaking of which, Thomas Heasley also came through in a really big way. A self-described drama-dance artist, Thomas was one of two people to respond to my request for actors, and he was a perfect fit for a non-speaking, physically specific role.

He had no previous film experience after this short, he isn't too interested in much more--although, as he said, it gave him a new-found respect for film actors, as they have to stay in a moment over and over again when nailing a take. His one critique of me when we were finished was that in stage drama, it's considered bad form for a director to model how an actor is "supposed" to act, as it constricts their creative freedom. Observe:

On the other hand, he conceeded, film is different than the stage as there are specific shots that need to be acted a certain way. Not so on the stage, where an actor is free to "interpret" the material in their own way. So other than the practical lessons learned from my first extensive greenscreen process ("necessary evil" comes to mind), the biggie that I learned on this shoot is really about myself: for better or worse, I'm very hands on with directing actors.

As for the footage itself, I haven't actually captured any yet--I'm giving myself a day off. From memory however, some of it looks fantastic, some looks overlit, some under--but I don't think anything looks awful. My main concern at this point is that I still need to capture an underwater image and I may need to shoot an additional shot or two for the climax. More logistics, essentially.

We'll see what happens though. In the meantime, there are some fantastic movies playing that I'm going to try to make time to see (in-between work, or course) this week.

I'll put some more pictures up on my next post, and tomorrow I'll see if I can't put up a frame-grab.

Watching: The Incredibles

2007-04-26T23:42:00.001-07:00

in·vert
verb (used with object)

1.	to turn upside down.

2.	to reverse in position, order, direction, or relationship.

3.	to turn or change to the opposite or contrary, as in nature, bearing, or effect: to invert a process.

4.	to turn inward or back upon itself.

5.	to turn inside out.

6.	Chemistry. to subject to inversion.

7.	Music. to subject to musical inversion.

8.	Phonetics. to articulate as a retroflex vowel.

–verb (used without object)

9.	Chemistry. to become inverted.

–adjective

10.	Chemistry. subjected to inversion.

–noun

11.	a person or thing that is inverted.

("invert" Dictionary.com Unabridged (v 1.1). Random House, Inc. 26 Apr. 2007)

Decisions, Decisions

2007-04-26T20:34:00.000-07:00

I'm supposed to shoot tomorrow. I have no actor. I have a crew of two, including myself.

That's what I have against me.

For me, I have a solid array of equipment. I have a soundstage (DXARTS' Fremont studio). And I have a pretty damn good idea.

I also have a ton of storyboards. Which brings me to now. I'm still boarding out my shots. I have 22 shots as of right now. I have four shots left to parse (iow, fill the 'tweens of the keyframes). And I'm stuck.

I'm not sure how to get from the guy climbing up the wall, to him leaping up to the ceiling. I'm really not. It's too sudden for it to occur right away. There has to be some logical bridge between the two. But not something throw away-able. Something that furthers the story.

So what's left to tell?

Conflict?

This would be a good place to start foreshadowing the end...But the foreshadowing can't come out of nowhere either. Foreshadowing needs to be foreshadowed.

Foreshadow 1: His wet hand in f/g as he fully opens his eye.

Foreshadow 2: (Now) When he goes up the wall, before he walks out of frame, we stay on the dark again.

Foreshadow 3: Reverse OTS as he reaches for the pool, transfixed.

End: Sits up into black, walks out of frame, leaving us to linger on black.

In the darkness, there is room, it is open. At the apex, there is only water and a reflection. A cramped space. Is his curse that he only travels toward the light?

Should the final shot be the darkness?

Qualitative Distractions

2007-04-12T01:46:00.000-07:00

I've been...not procrastinating...but avoidant on this project because of one simple reason: it frightens me. The sheer scope of what's involved in realizing the vision I have for this thing is daunting.

I'm daunted.

I've gotten some good support from my instructor and several classmates who are game to allow our mutually chromagreen sets to commingle, so I feel better now. But I still feel as if I haven't actually done a whole helluva lot on this thing. Part of it might be that after six months of three-week turnarounds on increasingly demanding projects, it feels terribly awkward to not be maintaining that same level of corporeal intensity.

The other part of it is that I'm finally, at long last trying to get my general studies degree off the ground at the UW, and it has been occupying most of my time at the beginning of this quarter. I got it approved by the board last week, and now tonight I put together one of two cover letters for the professors I have to obtain sponsorships from. It's stressful, to say the least. No blanket security of set benchmarks for progress, no assurance of acceptance due to my wildly variant academic record. I don't think either of them will be able to question my passion for cinema media. But there is the little matter of academic formalism. The very world implies formalism. Academic. Academia. I wouldn't blame Shawn for not wanting to attach his name to a student who has a 0-point-fucking-0 on his transcript. Shit, that's what...a whole 3.3 GPA points lower than my lowest grade in high school? And a whole 2.4 less than my next lowest grade in college (which still is a shitty grade though)? Even though I'm planning on retaking the class, I'm still frightened to death that I won't do much better the second time around. I really do not have the discipline, patience, or attention span for programming--and that class not only revealed my weaknesses, it assraped the chinks in my rusty armor with a lance whose splinters only grow more painful by the day with pussy infection.

Nice metaphor.

Back to the topic at hand: in the next few days, I'm going to be completely boarding out my film, creating a storyreel, breaking down my shots into components, casting, crewing, equiping, planning, doubting, re-planning, crying, and finally, hopefully arriving at a gameplan that falls between the sometimes exclusive realms of possiblity and quality.

Storyboards for the Untitled

2007-04-04T23:49:00.000-07:00

Apex of the series

2007-04-04T22:25:00.000-07:00

I have been procrastinating on posting information here for the last two weeks. It doesn't help that a notebook is more convenient for ideas than a blog, but I'll do my best.

I am about to commence work on sketching up my key storyboards for the capstone piece I'm working on, those will be on here later, but first I wanted to take a few minutes and formally stretch my concept. Get in the game, so to speak.

Let me start by recapping the concept: there is a pyramid that exists Somewhere. This pyramid is hollow and the interior of each of it's four "walls" is really a Plane. Each Plane is a locus of special gravity. That is, a field of gravity is unique to each Plane. So essentially each Plane can be "down", "up", "right wall" or "left wall", depending upon which plane a person is standing on.

Such a person, in the form of a man--no offense, but I'm a man and it's easy to stay writing about the same sex--lands on one of the planes near the base of the pyramid as the short film begins. The "story" being told is of this man as he "walks" up the plane, toward the apex.

Speaking of which, the apex itself is obscured by the intensity of the white light that emanates from it. The interior of the pyramid is grayish-white: the further from the apex, the darker the shades of gray are, until they eventually crush into black; the closer to the apex, the brighter the shades of gray are until they eventually blow-out into impenetrable white.

Now this will not just be a monotonous "walk" in an obscure environment. The "conflict" of the piece is that as the planes of gravity converge toward the apex, narrowing as they do, their locuses of gravity begin to exert more of an influence upon the subjects of the other planes. As the protagonist goes along further, first his hair, then whatever clothing he has, and ultimately his body itself begin to be pulled toward the different planes. He is also able to first walk then jump to adjoining planes and, eventually, is able to leap "up" and land on the "ceiling" so to speak, which then becomes "the floor" making the initial "floor" now the "ceiling."

He ultimately reaches the top, attains enlightment, reaches the pearly gates, etc. but as he--and we--find out, nothing is quite as simple as that.

a product of my environment

2007-03-27T20:14:00.000-07:00

The short turned out reasonably well. Good cinematography, good editing, good acting, etc. The two flaws: I showed my cards entirely too soon in terms of the reveal (well, as it is, there is no reveal); and the sound is really not all that good.

If you want to check it out: myspace.com/eledrew

Just as the character is a product of his environment, the video is figuratively and, quite literally, "a product of my environment".

For whatever its worth, cheers.

Post Post 1

2007-03-01T21:56:00.000-08:00

Well the shoot actually ended up going quite well. Jan came through in a pinch to be the lead, a Freshman named Jake that linked up with me through a post I put on craigslist ended up doing really well, and Jim and Collin came aboard to help me behind the camera in a big way. Since this was a location shoot, with multiple actors, there was no way I could have done this without their help.

As I said, the shoot went pretty well, we started filming about 630pm and wrapped at exactly 12a. The gennie ran out of gas on the third-to-last shot, but Collin was a sport and took me to fill it up. And then my car died on the last shot, so we had to push it into position for the last shot. Thankfully, it only ended up needing a jump.

I'm capturing the footage itself as I type this, and some of it looks really, really good. Some of it is iffy. But nothing that can't be massaged in FCP or, last resort, AE. But I don't think I have anything that looks bad--which is really miraculous. Especially considering that I was still not recovered from being sick, and that it was cold as balls out. Really fucking cold.

Hopefully, the effort that everyone put into my video will show. If not, the blame can only rest with me.

2007-02-27T21:15:00.000-08:00

What am I trying to communicate?

I am trying to remove the contextuality of violence. Violence never exists in a vaccum, it is always in reaction to something. No violence is unprovoked, whether that provocation is imaginary, accidental, or otherwise. Therefore, there is always context and pretext for violence. This can be distracting from the act itself I think. While I understand Noel's desire for something to connect with, that is not the point of this piece. I want to decontextualize the act itself by presenting a character who is able to become involved in something else without

I am also presenting a person who has no context.

What do I have? I don't know if I'm just can't think clearly at the moment or if I'm really just confused about the whole mess.

I've Got Issues

2007-02-25T13:38:00.000-08:00

I'm torn between feeling like there isn't enough in this piece, and like I might be trying to put too much into it. The problem I had with my first project this quarter was that I tried to put too much into it; I couldn't just let what was be, and because of that it ended up being a little cluttered, the "message" mixed.

In retrospect I don't know what I could have cut because the way I see it all flow now, I can't imagine it without any of the pieces. That's not to say that I think they should all be there, or that they're all necessary, only that at this point I don't see a way of cutting any of it. The shots flow together too well for any of them to be cut at this point. WHICH MEANS that if I'd simplified things at the story stage, I would have been able to keep my shots more focused at the shooting stage, and my edits more streamlined at the editing stage.

So with all of that in mind, that I find myself confronting those same tendencies again. Part of me feels like there isn't enough to carry a five-minute film, the other part of me says, "It's not what you say, it's how you say it." And I'm torn because I don't want to put all of my effort into something vacuous, but then by being afraid of that I may end up just making it unnecessarily complex.

I think what I need to do is ask myself what exactly I'm trying to communicate with this piece, and then structure everything around that. I know that sounds really simple, but it's really not. And as much an aphorism as that may be, it's also a truism. But like all truisms it can't just be applied to a situation, it has to be internalized so that then it will grow out of one.

The Specific Problem:

The problem is that there is really one crucial moment in the film--I've mentioned it before--it is the fulcrum about which the ENTIRE short swings. Which means that really, it should be the climax. Everything that follows is denoument. But it being a short film, there isn't enough before the climax to justify a "traditional" denoument.

DENOUMENT: The denoument in this should only be a denoument in the sense that it is the action that follows the climactic action. It need not resolve things. Nore need it end things. In fact, the denoument in this ought to imply that what will be occuring later is even more horrific than what occured before. This will be where we reveal the truly monstrous impassivity of the One character's conscience, and the herd mentality induced passivity of the Second character.

Should this end with the Second character looking at the One character? Should it go futher to have the Second character look back ahead? I definitely like that better than the first option. Or should it go all the way and have them turn the car out of frame and leave the camera to linger on the blurry alleyway, with the immobile body drowning in the light? I'm more inclined to end it on the two guys. We haven't left the car yet, so why should we? And isn't seeing the body out of focus in the background enough? Or do we need to linger on it? However, the car driving out of frame provides a greater feeling of resolution--or, if not resolution, at least more of an feeling of finality: "they will go on, we will not" is what that says. Is that appropriate to the film?... You know, it might really be the most appropriate...But in terms of ambiguity it still leaves something to be desired...Can a compromise be reached, an ending that maintains a certain level of ambiguity (although it just occurred to me that there is quite a lot already that is ambiguous) while still letting the car drive out of the shot?

I suppose, really, that I can film it all in one shot, and cut it earlier if need be...But then won't that undermine the finality of the cut if I end up cutting earlier? "If it's not intentional, then it's not art"?

CLIMAX: This really stretches out over several beats; there isn't any one moment that can be defined as THE climactic moment. 1) There is the knock on the window that shatters the stillness of the brooding character. 2) There is the whispered exchange and the writing on the (presumed photograph) that follows (audio in background). 3) The out-off-focus beating in the background behind the head of the character in the car--this is the shot that really establishes the different nature of the character.

BUILD UP: This is the toughest part, the part that I haven't worked out yet. This is especially problematic since I really don't see how this will carry through the better part of the film. Really, this about 2/3s of the film. Maybe 1/2. It also depends upon the length requirement for this project. I suppose I ought to just start writing and see how this turns out. But right now there is: 1) The cigarette; 2) The person; 3) The photo; 4) The car; 5) Questions: Why is he staring at the photograph? What emotion is he restraining? Why is he sitting in a car? Why is the car a piece of shit? *What is the metaphor that the cigarette represents or what does it come to respresent? Etc. These are all questions that need to be addressed, or need to appear as if they're being addressed.

I need to plot these out and start writing.

Just watched: Miller's Crossing--I'd forgotten how fucking amazing that movie is. And oddly enough, a really good object of admiration.

Notes:
Point isn't that these guys are definitively bad guys, that their actions are evil regardless of "who" they really are ==> see the missed opportunity of Pullo's murder of Cicero in Rome. What was wrong with that?

Marlboro Man

2007-02-24T03:40:00.000-08:00

The cigarette is so much more expressive than the character himself , in this short, that I've decided it will be the motivator that carries us through the course of the piece. In fact, I am going to go so far as to have the cigarette be the character's proxy. Since one of my self-imposed constraints is to have impassive acting--no facial expression, no vocal inflection--this will be a great micro-metaphor for our changing perception of the character's states. I want to note that here I was tempted to say that it would make a great metaphor for the character's changing states, but that's not really true. As I have it, the character's states do not change, only our perception of them as more information is revealed over the course of the short.

One pragmatic issue that occurred to me is whether or not I'll be able to fulfill the 7-minute runtime requirement. This piece will function best as pretty tightly structured, which is not to say that it ought to be fast. Only that there is a certainly methodical structure to the thing, perhaps in the way a Hitchcock film is tightly structured, not the free-form structure of other films.

On the other hand, an interesting way of communicating structure might be to use a more free-form structure during the establishing moments at the beginning of the piece and the build-up to the "fulcrum moment"--the reveal--and to have the following, closing shots be structured tightly a la a Hitchcockian structure.

There are several issues raised by this: will there be enough "meat" following the reveal to allow for a noticeable/effective structural change? Really, now that I think about it, I think the structure ought to air-tight throughout, but perhaps to appear to be loosely structured at first and then to suddenly gain clarity and drive at that moment, which in turn reveals that the previous perception of a loose structure really did have a drive.

I think the key to this is, simply, to invest every shot with meaning. To ensure that everything, from the montage of the shots, through the shots, to the mise-en-scene within the shots, that everything is communicating. Which, come to think of it, is the what I was assigned to do in the first place. So really, I've run in a circle, only during my lap about the circuits of my ideation, I've gathered along the way the things I will be communicating, arriving back at the point of communication with what I need to communicate...if that makes any sense.

Back to the initial topic, the cigarette can not only function as proxy and metaphor, but as what I like to call "The-Kid-the-Pool" in Wes Anderson's "Rushmore". His character is not necessarily significant, but editorially it carries us through the scene, giving an extra-continuity to the whole piece.

Now that I've mentioned it, I think I'll go rent that tomorrow.

Listening to: The Departed soundtrack
Just watched: The Departed--which despite your initial impression, was not a movie I was crazy about when I first saw it. In fact, I was a little disappointed. But now that I've seen it three times--a testament to its watchability--I realize that it's not "A Martin Scorsese Picture" so much as it's a movie "Directed by Martin Scorsese". In short, I was expecting Taxi Driver when I should have just been expecting The Departed. It's not like any of his other films in that it's not trying to be profound, or really innovative even. Instead it's just really goddamn entertaining. Not great, not unique even. But a total blast, without a doubt.

Question of Mind

2007-02-21T16:39:00.000-08:00

Just a quick thought that struck me after posting that:

I wonder why I needed precedent to make that lighting decision?

Lack Thereof

2007-02-21T16:31:00.000-08:00

Progress. Or not.

I'm working on this damn fly film right now for SIFF and it is positively gobbling up my time. So much so that I am having trouble staying on top of all of my commitments. Especially this one, as it's the most time-consuming and abstract of all of them.

At this point, my largest dilemma is whether to shoot during the day, using natural light, or to shoot at night using highly stylized lighting. While I've had the most success with the latter scheme, the image that all of this is directly inspired by was during an overcast, rainy, grayest of grays day. And further, I love the natural light aesthetic. There's something organically beautiful about it. Probably my background in photo trying to maintain traction among my artistic sensibilities.

Now that I think of it however, my last project, arguably my best, inarguably the one I feel "best" about, was originally envisioned entirely in natural light. It was only when the logistics of shooting during daylight hours proved impossible that I had to resort to a complex lighting schematic--and that ended up being my favorite part of the whole damn thing, the part I had the most fun experimenting with!

Well, it seems I solved my dilemma. Now, the task of lighting cigarette smoke at night. I should probably check out equipment to test that out this weekend, which will give me Monday and Tuesday to finalize the shot list/storyboard/crew/talent list before shooting Wednesday and Thursday.

As for reserving the proper equipment for all of those days...

The indie

2007-02-18T23:57:00.000-08:00

The final project for this quarter is an indie--independent, free of restrictions--although I'm not sure if I'd mentioned that already or not.

I've come across a pretty solid Idea, thanks to the ideation session we were assigned to do--on that note, I think I'll add that I'm probably going to keep that sheet and use those guidelines whenever it's time for me to ideate and create, since it worked really fucking well. I actually didn't even do the whole thing. I started writing, came up with three ideas, one of which is awesome but too ambitious for a no-budget short film, it would probably make a pretty great feature length script though, and the other just a really great "idea", not really a story or anything, but a wonderful metaphor that is extremely malleable.

The third idea is based on an amazing visage that I studied while sitting in my car Friday, contemplating whether I should quit or finish my shifts at ol' BBV--incidentally, I finished my Friday one, but refused to go to Saturday's or Sunday's on grounds that I'm not going to divulge here. Suffice to say, it was a reasonable compromise I think that ended up with Dennis "cocksucker" Mott blacklisting me from Blockbuster premises indefinitely. That really wasn't necessary as I ethically object to the company and it's handling of the home video market, not to mention its employees. So, no great loss.

I digress.

I was pretty stressed, torn between my "principles" and doing what I knew what was really best for myself. So I smoked a cigarette--chainsmoked actually, which is the first time that's happened since last May. The windshield was covered with rain droplets, and since it was raining I had the window closed, so there was no air movement. And I didn't really feel like smoking, but I liked the comfort of it, so I just sat there with a cigarette between my fingers, clasping the steering wheel, while the smoked trailed up to the windshield, billowed-out and mushroomed back in on itself: the kind of image I could hold on for a really long time. Beautiful. I also blew smoke rings and watched while they too broke and dispersed on the ceiling, again a strong image. Not quite as strong, but strong nonetheless.

Now, the task of finding a story worthy of that awesome opening image. In line with Jim Emerson's thesis that a film's opening shot is the most important image of the entire film, that within that image is contained the entire film, all the way to it's end, and that they should be recalled at the end to give closure, I strove to make this image into a metaphor, and from that drag a story.

What I've got at the moment, is still pretty malleable though. There is the possibility of one shot. There is the possibility of a POV shot. Etc.

What I need to do at this point, is figure out exactly what I'm trying to communicate, who these characters are, what they want and esp. what they don't want, and that will help resolve a lot of the shot issues.

I was thinking of shooting this on film, but I really don't have the time to do that. I have two weeks. And here is my breakdown:

Shoot three days.
Edit two days.
Sound three days.
Post-post two days. (Color correction, etc)

I put an emphasis on sound because I know so little of it, and as I imagine it, the major "reveal" of the piece hinges on impeccable sound design. A lot of emphasis will be placed on this component.

Catch-up

2007-02-08T12:04:00.000-08:00

I'll keep this one short:

Basically the last project turned out really well. I'll put a link to it up and some thoughts on its critique soon.

The follow-up project was a collaboration with two other people, which made decisions difficult to come to--which also explains why I haven't been writing in here about it, since all of the thinking through things happened in conversations.

Anyhow, we shot it last night...and man, oh man, was it the most miserable shoot I've ever been on or done. It was awful. Truly a test of stamina.

We filmed on a soccer field near the Aboretum, south of the Montlake area. Filming was supposed to last about four hours, but of course, we had a generator for lights that we had to keep moving around depending upon the lighting set-up. And it started raining. The shoot time blossomed from four hours...to well over eight.

Andrew was acting in it and Daphne was pretty much the AD, which left me in charge of camera and lights. And GlideCam.

And man. It's 10pm, it's wet, it's muddy. We're all cold, the lens is getting wet and fogging up. And I've got a fucking steadicam strapped to me. And we have to flip the housing upside down to get the camera low to the ground. Shit.

My back is still sore, even now. That was miserable. Misery incarnate.

And of course, we had to haul over 100lbs--probably closer to 250--more than 200 meters to the car in the darkness. Through the mud and the rain. It was shitty. It made me wonder how anyone ever lived up here in the NW before there was electricity and warmth. God it sucked.

More than a few times was I reminded of experiences at basic training. Just the sheer will involved...

I haven't looked at any of the footage yet and, frankly, I'm not even sure I want to. I have a pretty good feeling that it's going to look like shit.

I guess the biggest lessons learned here was the absolute necessity to plan everything out logistically and creatively, down to the last detail. We could have used more people, at least two. We should have had lens wipes, an electrical heater. A canopy. At least one more tarp. We should have gotten permission to drive out onto the field. We should have all had better clothing. And we should have had a fucking shot-by-shot STORYBOARD with shots numbered in the order we needed to shoot them.

In all honesty, Andrew is very talented, but I gave him the benefit of the doubt in terms of his experience with logistics and I really shouldn't have. I went against my gut instinct to plan every detail out because he didn't like the thought of that and if we had, it would have saved probably at least two hours of bullshit.

Now it's not really his fault. It's more my own fault. I have more experience, and deferred to the rest of the group "for the good of the group" when really the best thing for the group would have been to plan everything out to the fullest.

Fuck. Oh well. We'll see how it turned out later.

The Listerine Dilemma

2007-01-17T19:42:00.000-08:00

While I still have not yet finished my script--I'm having trouble connecting A-W, to Z so to speak--I did extensive test shots last night, and should have a rough demo reel to show Jan Friday when he and I are going to rehearse, as well as help me realize anything that might not cut together. I'll do a quick edit of that later tonight.

Right now, my concern is with how I'm going to resolve several issues:

1. The Listerine bottle/label compulsion (although I have a potential alternate take on this below that is this close to gelling and solving a lot of my problems)
2. Wide-angle versus telephoto lenses: I am required by the parameteres of my individual assignment to use "far-away from the subject, highly-zoomed, telephoto" shots, not just long-duration shots and yet, after trying both the wide-angle and the telephoto lenses on every single shot that I tested, I found that the wide-angle created by far the most dynamic, compelling, thematically-resonant image in every single case except for maybe one. Because camera movement is very minimal and I am working with long shots, I need to cram as much information into each shot as possible, as much action as possible to keep it fresh and interesting. Plus there's something about a person losing their mind that seems to encourage the distortional effects of a wide-angle lens.
3. A more formalist question: How do I create a title sequence that works as an individual short film? I have the short film, all short films have credits, but as I learned last quarter, too many credits are indulgent. I don't have enough "real" credits to fill it out to the full running time, so what I'm considering doing is have the starring/directed by close to the beginning, the actual title at the end, along with any ancillary credits. I think this will make the sequence feel more complete, but it won't necessarily make it a real title sequence. I think what this issue boils down to is my desire to create a self-contained film and that that is conflicting with my desire to fulfill the parameters of the assignment. I think the ultimate goal however, is to create as good a short as possible, and if there are a few points where I have to bend the rules in service of the piece's integrity--so be it.

Guess that solves the wide-angle dilemma.

The problem with the Listerine bottle:

"The Listerine Loop": The listerine bottle is already stripped of its label when the character is brushing his teeth. But we see the character stripping off and eating the label after he has breakfast and then leaving the house. The point is to establish a cyclical continuum of anger, frustration. His destructive fetish with labels is how they represent the material world, the world of comfortable objects, a comfort that he desperately needs. So desperately that he eats these symbols in impassioned moments of near-ritualistic intensity.

The symbols of materiality become a sort of "comfort food" for him.

That's the overlording reasoning behind it. How then do I convey this cycle of material gluttony without being either a) heavy-handed, or b) without undermining the power of the revelation at the end? I think the key is to not have a big production of him eating it at the end. Just to hint to it through the jarring intrusions of this separate scene at a few key moments throughout the piece, and then to dolly/track past the shredded Listerine bottle at the end, before ending on the lone hair. Or should I even end on the lone hair? It feels like I have two possible endings: 1) ending on the lone hair; 2) ending on the listerine bottle w/ it's shredded pieces of wrapper fluttering around it. But he would have eaten all of the wrapper, so why would the whole crumpled thing be lying around it on the table? Maybe instead of a hair--which might be too heavy-handed in the first place (we already know someone is missing)--I should end on a small but decidedly indentifiable piece of wrapper lying on the table next to the listerine bottle, which reinforces the "comfort food" notion, as well as establishes the cyclical or at least non-linear arc of the film.

The film will hopefully feel linear, as in having a beginning, middle, and ending, but the beginning of the film does not necessarily have an end, nor does the end necessarily have a beginning. They are beginnings, middles, and ends that connect dramatically, but not logically.

Tangent. s.

Listening to: Real Gone, Tom Waits
Watching Later: Possessed

Why Grief?

2007-01-14T12:49:00.000-08:00

Thinking back on how my theme changed so quickly from addiction to grief, I think it was really matter of how realizing that the addiction, the compulsions, the absence, they are all signifiers; none of them are the actual issue at the heart of this character: under certain circumstances, compulsion and absence could be results of an addiction, but from my limited experience, addiction never comes from nothing, there is always a deeper issue at the heart of the problem.

Post-traumatic stress victims are known to self-medicate; people who suffer ailments like depression, grief can also be more susceptible to highly addictive substances. I'm not going to dispute that alcoholism is linked to genetics, I do not think that people are entirely, wholly responsible for their own actions, but I do think that issues such as depression, grief, trauma, physical illnesses, self-image issues, etc. have bearing on a person's ability to resist addiction.

Now I'll be the first to admit that I'm not a physician nor have I been addicted to narcotics at any point in my life, but reflecting on my own drinking/smoking, and especially adrenaline addiction, has influenced how I view addiction: it is a symptom of a larger issue.

I suppose there are plenty of cases where a person of excess has become addicted to high-value narcotics: coke, heroin, etc., but since I've never been in that kind of position, it's not one I can relate to. I've never been a "pusher" nor have I sought out drugs other than those available to public consumption, but have experienced some things akin to addiction, and having observed my girlfriend's (and to an extent, partaken in) grief over the death of her father, it is quite easy for me to imagine easily falling into the trap of an addiction. We never sought out illegal drugs after her father's death, nor did we drink particularly much, but we did smoke the shit out of our lungs. And when we finally came around to realizing how completely unhealthy and disgusting smoking is, she especially had a difficult time quitting.

The film Noel recommended I watch was "Permanent Midnight" and that is a perfect example of what I'm getting at: Jerry Stahl may have had some other issues, but his primary cause for addiction was excess. He had money to spend and access to whatever he wanted. I think of other drug/addiction stories: Requiem, Spun, Blow, The Doors, The Salton Sea, Drugstore Cowboy etc. and they are all stories that either deal with addiction and its effects, the drug trade, or excessive lifestyles--and sometimes all of the above. While there may be something I'm forgetting, nearly all of them neglect the reasons for addiction--unless it's because of excess. The mother's story in Requiem is probably the closest part that comes close to confronting the deeper issues behind addictions.

I don't mean to sound elitist--there are some people who simply have addiction-prone personalities--but I guess what interests me the most is self-medication, not simply "addiction", but self-medication because of something, and the only thing that would drive me to seek out highly addictive, highly numbing substances is a terrible, terrible loss: grief.

So I think what this really comes down to is my ability to cut to the heart of an emotional truth: I don't feel I could do something justice unless I can personally relate to it. And if you look at the things that have been successful and those that have failed in my filmography--and even outside of film--those things that have been failures are ones that I keep at a distance from myself. I don't do it intentionally. I wanted to make a chilling, surreal ghost story when I made Apparition, but I don't believe in the existence of ghosts. I didn't want to express my feelings on the matter through the medium of cinema, I just wanted to make something cool, scary, neat. Throw in a healthy dose of over-confidence and voila: a ripe recipe for failure. Take the horribly titled Shadow Way: it's not perfect, but it comes a lot closer to what I wanted to achieve than Apparition does, and those parts in it that are successful, "inspired", are those where I was trying to duplicate my own fear and trepidations when I happened upon that same hallway.

So, really, what this all boils down to is knowing my limits, and being true to my own breadth of experience.

Therefore, grief. What title?

Night Cap

2007-01-12T04:06:00.000-08:00

One last note: the label peeling compulsion is so weird that it might signify mental distress in the sense that this could just be a person who is mentally ill, not someone who is grieving. I'll need to be aware of that, because leaving it more open-ended than grief could prepare the audience for an ambiguous ending, one wherein we don't reveal the nature of his actions. I think that would be a cop-out though. There is a difference between having ambiguity and being non-committal.

Alt Tats

2007-01-12T03:44:00.000-08:00

Reading over the last post to get a more clearer picture of my train of thought, it struck how banal the tattoos seem without the pretext of addiction. I still like the idea of having tattoos though, so here are a few alternate ideas:
-"a priori" -- from the former; In everyday speech, it denotes something occurring or being known before the event.
-"amor est vitae essentia" -- love is the essence of life
-"annus mirabilis" -- "wonderful year" VS "annus terribilis" -- "dreadful year"
**"cetera desunt" -- "the rest is missing"(b) VS "compos mentis" -- "in control of the mind"(f)

The key with all of these is that is has to serve three functions at once: 1) It has to tell us something about the character; 2) It has to tell us something about the themes of the story; 3) It has to tell us something about how to read the structure of the story.

From Addiction to Grief in Approx. One Post

2007-01-11T23:35:00.000-08:00

The character is not a drug dealer. Or rather, he could be I suppose, but I've changed the main thrust of his afflication to being an addiction, not enabling others'. I've decided this for the cheif reason that I know nothing of drug dealing, but having been by turns a heavy smoker, a heavy drinker, and an adrenaline junkie, I feel closer to the character if I envision him as suffering not just an afflication of conscience, but a literal one as well. Whatever his addiction is, I won't be explicitly showing it.

I don't want to depict an addiction, I want to sketch an addict.

Addiction has been done plenty of times--Requiem for a Dream most notably, but also Spun and to a lesser extent Drugstore Cowboy. But I think DC was closer to what I want to acheive than the previous two. Less the subjective, "Drug Addiction POV" schitck and more of an objective exploration of who and what an addict is.

I don't want to pity this character, I want to observe: the routines, the habits, the compulsions. In particular, this person has developed a compulsive habit to rip off the labels of all of the "products" in his abode. A listerine bottle without a Listerine label, a tube of toothpaste without the Aquafresh, condiments without their labels, a tie without the manufacturer's label, etc. A half-empty environment.

Half-empty glasses, bottles--a half-empty soul.

His environment will be defined not by what is there, but by what is not--and by who is not.

A queen-mattress, occupied by only he. A second sink cleaned of stuff, but not of dust, skin, soap, hair. A half-empty life.

He will have "Nothing in Excess" tattooed across his chest so that people who look at him can read it, but so that it reads backwards when he looks at himself in the mirror. It was an ideal he lost, along with something else. "Know thyself" is tattooed across his back: for all intents and purposes, he's forgetten it's there.

The environment will be fairly barren. Not the trash-strewn mess of a slob, but the emptiness of someone who is himself empty.

I am visually constrained by the following: 95% of my shots must be longer than 10 seconds; they must all be highly-zoomed shots. Using these constraints, I will try to create an impression of the person and his environment by focusing on details, on parts of objects, creating a fragmented view of a fragmented person.

Shawn suggested inserting a few shock edits for visceral effect. I suppose if the short was without a few jarring moments, it might lack a climax, an emotional payoff, or it might be just fucking boring--who knows.

I think I'll shoot the inserts, and edit the piece with and without them, see how I feel about it, get some feedback from a few others, and see how it plays both ways basically. As far as the inserts themselves, I'll be showing a few different things: him stirring on the empty bed, occupying half of the frame; while cleaning himself at his sink, the empty sink next to him occupies an equal part of the frame; the barren, pathetic breakfast table as he passively eats on one side; two closets, he only opening one. I can't think of any others without going overboard, and I'm not even sure if I'm going to necessarily use all of them, but they all serve the same purpose. I do want to establish this as a motif,

I think I'll be using these moments to objectively illustrate the absence, the half that is missing, hence the empty halves of the frame.

Shock edits begin to bleed over into these moments of objectivity, ultimately dominating them, before he closes the door, the camera tracking past the listerine bottle we see him destroying, past a few more de-labeled objects in the b/g, to the empty sink where a single hair--not his--still sits.

Okay, this sou
nds more like grief than addiction, very true. So now I've got to backpedal and find where the addiction gets illustrated here.

Maybe there is no addiction. Maybe the tattoos are there to show how pervasive a thing grief can be. The addiction can stay outside the frame, just barely there. A hint of a bottle (or whatever), not the whole bottle, as Shawn said. Grief can bullrush even your most strongly felt ideals. Maybe the tattoos could even be a little runny, a little teary--just slightly, but enough to show that their colors are running, and linking to the character's intense internal turmoil.

An interesting issue:
If the listerine bottle is seen OTS without a label while he is brushing his teeth--all of the products are seen without labels--and the shock edits are of him ripping off the label in an intense state of mourning, continuity dictates that those shock edits are then "flashbacks", that they are taking place prior to the present, which is brushing his teeth. But if we pullback from the character as he is getting ready to rush out the door to go to work, and track past the recently shredded listerine bottle, how is it that it was already shredded in the previous scene? This could imply some sort of moebius strip architecture of time, where the events appear to be progressing linearly, but begin to contradict themselves and lead to a re-establishing of the various shots as discontinuous by the short's end. I would want to plant various little continuity mishaps throughout the rest of the short that wouldn't be noticeable upon first viewing, but cue us subconsciously into an undercurrent that isn't quite representing continuity. That way, by the time we arrive at the final dolly/pan/tracking shot, we are prepared for the discontinuity, even if we weren't aware that we were.

All that said, the point is the emotional state; the time-loop, the absence, the label peeling compulsion, the empty half-frame inserts, the shock edits, etc., these are all there only to serve the illustration of a grieving person.

Watched: Sanjuro
Listening to: silence

Know Thy Character

2007-01-10T02:22:00.000-08:00

"Supposedly carved into the temple were the phrases γνῶθι σεαυτόν ("know thyself") and μηδὲν ἄγαν ("nothing in excess")..." -- Wikipedia.org

So for this current assignment, I've managed to create a character--or, at least, a shade of a character--that really intrigues me:

A male, mid-to-late twenties, has tattooed across his chest "Nothing in Excess", and has "Know Thyself" tattooed across his back. He is a drug dealer of some sort--whether he is symbolically or literally a drug dealer I'm not yet sure--but somehow, he enables others' excesses and does so with little conflict of conscience. Clearly, he does not know himself. And yet, he believes in these two aphorisms enough to have them carved into his flesh. Does he really mean them? Does he really care? Perhaps he did at one point. Obviously he must have. But maybe he did not care in the sense that he knew truly what they meant, only that they were social ideals to aspire to. He did not understand why he should aspire to them, nor did he truly attempt to engage with what it meant to have nothing in excess, and to know thyself. Therefore, they have been easily forgotten, and now serve only decorative purposes.

I'm tempted to frame the character's journey as one wherein he re-learns these lessons. Where he is reborn. But, this seems to incredibly pat. Too linear an arc. Perhaps the real journey is the audience's as they learn the value of aspiring to these two ideals, but that we are brought to them through the character's downfall. When we meet him, he is already well on his way down. It's a moral tale in the sense that Roger Avary considers his films moralist cinema: they are moralist not because the characters have morals, but rather because they do not, and his films judge them as such. He shows why not having morals is bad...Is that what I really want to do? More complex perhaps than taking the character on the journey to a positive end, is making the character's journey's end the antithesis to morality, but nevertheless, it too seems to reduce human complexity down to bipolar disorder. Where are the shades of gray?

What is his journey to be then? What is his name to be then?

Some points to consider:
-Is "Nothing in Excess" tattooed so that he can read it in a mirror, or so that someone else can read it?...It would be in keeping with his character's superficiality that he would not be able to read it when looking at in a mirror--that is not the important part: it's a declaration, not a reminder.
-When did they stop becoming reminders, and start becoming declarations? (Have a shot of the letters rearranging themselves?)
-Is there any metaphor to be had in equating the character to the Oracle at Delphi? Since the gateway to Delphi was marked by these two aphorisms, perhaps we can equate the character to the gateway, just as he is the gateway to the temple of addiction. A false happyness, a false truth. Temporary, elusive relief.

Watching: Yojimbo

PENANCE

2006-12-11T18:27:00.000-08:00

Penance