Melania’s stomping old stomping grounds contains gems

First Ladyland from MEL Films on Vimeo.

How often is a First Lady of the United State born abroad?

You might be surprised to know that Melania Trump is not the first. Born in London, Louisa Catherine Johnson Adams married the country’s sixth president, John Quincy Adams. But I digress.

David Freid’s First Ladyland takes the rare opportunity to profile the native country of a foreign-born American First Lady. He captures the town of Sevnica, Slovania as residents do what they can to take pride in their most famous daughter, and make a little money from it. And that’s despite learning that the First Lady’s objects as the viewer learns late in the film.

This film and Election Night from my previous blog post are complete opposites ways for bearing witness. First Ladyland doesn’t stick to a single setting like in Election Night’s bar. And while Election Night’s characters tell their thought about Trump, First Ladyland’s people show what they think through their actions.

Interviews are the backbone of the documentary as Freid speaks to a wide variety of residents and leaders: the mayor, the rotary president, a castle manager, a museum curator, a tour guide in an empty bus who cracks jokes, and a balloon artist who makes a Donald Trump balloon with an interesting nose. He weaves their stories through parallel editing as he captures their particular specialty, such as the Olympian hammer thrower, or the

In his arsenal, Freid uses a drone to capture some of the documentary’s most compelling images. At around 2:37, the mayor of Svencia(?) shows an old aerial photo of the city, and a few scenes later ??? uses a drown to bring that picture, with a train beautifully entering the frame from the left.

I feel the best drone shot starts showing the manager of Sevnica’s castle waving at the camera in a mideum shot at 10:45. Suddenly the the camera flies, keeping the man in the middle of the frame. He turns to walk away as the push out speeds up to show the full castle and the large mountain. It’s a very nice wide shot.

It’s a fun film to watch. By the end, I felt like I wouldn’t mind visiting Sevnica at all. Freid showed, in the most positive way, a colorful town full of hopeful people eager to grow and make a little dough.

 

London’s American election night

Election Night from Ryan Scafuro on Vimeo.

Talk about bearing witness. I chose Election Night because of the topic, and the discussions we’ve had in class about the political climate.

Ryan Scafuro, a former cinematographer for The Daily Show and now on Samantha B’s Comedy Central show, kept it fairly objective as he captured inside a bar people’s reaction to the Nov. 8, 2016 general election and the early morning after in London.

I say “fairly” because most characters were Hillary Clinton supporters, but I don’t get the sense he had too many options to find Donald Trump fans. Still, I never felt like he was leaning pulling for one side or the other.

He also smartly returned to the same characters to get their perspective throughout the night, one man getting visibly drunker and slurring. I feel the peak of the story’s arc comes from a fist fight he captured as tensions came to a boil.

For technical aspects, I kept thinking about the challenges he must have faced with lighting. It seemed like a dark bar. The images were often a bit grainy/noisy, which made me think he must have had his ISO at higher levels.

There were few establishing shots, and most were either tight shots of detail or medium shots of people and interviews.

He compressed time with lots of detail shots of draft beer pouring into glasses and shot glasses filling with liquor. He also cut away often to clips of news anchors discussing various state outcomes to jump time. He caught one guy passing out, symbolizing the long night (or maybe a true drunk slumber).

The piece feels like it could easily be published in a news website. All in all, I’m walking away feeling that similar scenes in tens of thousands of bars played out that night like it did in London.

Who knew death could be so lighthearted?

One of the best hooks and opening scenes that I’ve seen yet can be found in Pickle.

Talk about an unanswered question(s): What the what? A fish that can’t swim? And what did he say about a sponge?

It sets the tone for Amy Nicholson’s fourth documentary published last November on the New York Times’ Op-Doc page. It’s got drama, lots of death, lots of love and lots of laughs. Nicholson interviews her parents at their home in Chesapeake Bay, Maryland. Simply, the film is about the couple’s relationship with animals, no matter the cost and ultimate demise.

In an interview-style film, Nicholson questions her parents separately and then together using the same backdrop. As they tell stories about any of their many animals, she cuts back and forth between the individual interviews, and then sometimes includes both in the same shot.

I know we’re taught to minimize talking heads, however because her parents are so entertaining to watch and listen, I guess this is good exception to the norm.

The best scene and sequence: The tale of the four geese from about 4:21 to 6:00.

Dad suddenly remembers he forgot they once had geese. Nicholson cuts to the couple walking away from the camera in a wide shot of a muddy field with their dog. Mom’s carrying a shovel.

Meanwhile, dad’s voice explains he’s always wanted a pair of geese that look like the goose in Mother Goose Rhymes: plump and fat. Nicholson cuts back to the couple, this time facing the camera walking along a trail with solemn faces. Dad’s carrying a box with the Downy logo.

He found two geese. Another two somehow showed up. Nicholson uses animation to visually portray the fate of three of his four geese (An otter? Really?). As they tell the story, the animation is cut between tight shots of the shovel digging a square hole.

As soon as mom says, now we’re down to one goose, Nicholson cuts to dad bending down and gently placing the box in the ground. Mom tosses yellow bird feed over the box in a tight shot of her hand, as if it’s one last meal before the goose visits that eternal pond in the sky.

Nicholson cuts to another wide shot that suddenly shows a horn player belting out Taps, the song traditionally played during military funerals. So. Funny. The final seen shows the one remaining plump goose, hobbling away from the camera as Taps ends.

The whole sequence is a good mix of interview and cinema vérité styles.

And don’t worry, those unanswered questions will be fulfilled. Be prepared to chuckle.

How Life Has Changed The Middle East Has Changed over 58 years

I found another Nat Geo gem. This video does a really great job of documenting how the Middle East has changed in good and bad ways over the past 60-years.

The best part is the video starts from the perspective of a doctor, talking about going to the Middle East and his mission to take as many pictures as possible. This is a noble mission that I’m sure most of us have attempted, but Dr. Colbert Held took over 20,000 photos of the middle east over the span of those six decades.

After an awesome set-up, the video then goes on to profiles about people from all over the Middle East talking about how their countries have changed for better or worse. Confession: I really like the part about Kuwait. It’s pretty spot-on.

This video is nothing like the last Nat Geo pick, though. It’s heavy is stock footage, info graphs, maps and graphics. I think it was done in a tasteful way and set a good example of how to tell stories when your only footage is the interview. Still, the segments didn’t rely heavily on the interview footage, but made good use of effects and drawings.

It also does a really good job of staying on topic while provide so many different perspectives. It was cut in an engaging way because the stories were so diverse.

 

 

The Multimedia Journalist in Web 2.0: A Lesson on Self-Promotion

Whether we represent multimedia journalists with years of experience or none at all, we all seek ways to improve our production skills within the framework of non-fiction storytelling. A variety of platforms and publications can help take our work to the next level by targeting a larger or niche audience. Through my research, I found that Short of the Week and Vimeo Staff Picks together provide lessons on self-promotion through the various tools that Web 2.0 has to offer. Based on individual strengths, these tools can help us find our own answer to the following question:

While thousands of videos are uploaded every day, what can multimedia journalists do to separate themselves from the pack?

All Vimeo Staff Picks are “Hand-picked by real humans”

A Brief Background

“Film with a Passion” remains the slogan of the first video sharing site to support high-definition video: Vimeo.com. One of the website’s founders, Jake Lodwick, saw the opportunity for a play on words that spoke to the heart of every filmmaker: video + me. Vimeo is also an anagram of “movie”.

An article written in October 2016 discusses the new and improved Vimeo Staff Picks platform that introduced its pioneering “Staff Pick Premieres” last fall. Emily Buder, managing editor of No Film School, describes Vimeo Staff Picks as “the linchpin of the online short film community.” The “Premieres” added to “Vimeo Staff Picks” denoted a year-long online film festival that did more than elevate great vimeo videos that have already seen success in the filmmaking community.

Open Submission

In an interview with No Film School, Vimeo’s lead curator Sam Morrill said that “one of the most exciting elements of the new platform is its open submission process.” What does that mean for us? Without pushing our short non-fiction films and documentaries as potential film festival entries, now all we need are the tools of Web 2.0 (i.e. open admission) to help showcase our talent and promote our brand. Vimeo as well as contributors of Short of the Week have answered filmmakers questions about how to reach the right audience and how to get their work published.

Today, the most interesting stories aren’t being told in theaters or even on TV. They’re being told here on the web.

– Short of the Week

This graphic by Short of the Week creators Andrew Allen and Jason Sondhi demonstrates how the Web is changing the landscape of submitting work for exposure to viewers.

Well that’s good news for us. Now what next? Vimeo prides itself on the promise that Staff Picks are “handpicked by real humans.” While thousands of videos are uploaded to Vimeo every day, what can multimedia journalists do to separate themselves from the pack?

According to co-founder and managing editor of Short of the Week, Jason Sondhi, it’s all about staying relevant and interesting online. Take risks and try new things but target the appropriate audience to better the chances of your submission––to any publication––actually being published.

This brings me to tip #1:

  1. Use Vimeo as a springboard to promote your work. Why Vimeo? According to Andrew Allen, co-creator and managing director of Short of the Week, Vimeo has a stronger filmmaking community than YouTube, which “may hit more viewers but Vimeo will attract the right viewers.”
  2. Sondhi reminds us that first impressions count. Two things are key in a producer’s initial video presentation: thumbnail and description. Vimeo has a feature that allows users to choose a frame from any moment in their video. Grab the perfect visually captivating moment in time to encourage viewers and readers to take a chance on you and your work. As far as descriptions go, give your best elevator pitch in just a couple sentences.

    The Vimeo Staff Picks always have captivating thumbnails. In Jeremy McNamara’s “Day By Day – The Iris Story,” the extensive depth of field in this wide shot as well as its cool color palette help captivate viewers––a great first impression indeed.
  3. Social media is your friend. It may be obvious, but I admit that keeping up is difficult. In today’s age of user-generated content and participatory culture, we must be willing and able to brand ourselves through social media outlets. More importantly, we need to stick with it. One of my participation grades in a journalism class at the University of Oregon was based on our Twitter accounts: 50% of the total grade was contingent on professionalism/relevancy (no one wants to see or hear about what you ate for dinner) and the other 50% was based on frequency (how often you are actually engaging with what’s going on in the world). Allen suggests uploading your video to Vimeo first thing Monday morning (12 a.m. EST) “to give the film a full 24 hours to rack up views and stay relevant all week.” He says that letting everyone who worked on the video in on “the game plan” (i.e. what hashtags to use, where to post and to what outlet and when, etc.), will increasing your chances of not just the quantity of views but the quality of views. Tags will helps your chances of reaching your target audience.
–– According to 16 studies on CoSchedule

A variety of blog posts and interviews helped me decide what avenues are best for self-promotion (according to the multimedia experts). I believe that the tips and tricks above are most relevant for the kind of work I am producing and I hope you find their advice useful in promoting your personal style. It should be noted that this can and should be applied to all facets of branding. This information is valuable when seeking publication for everything from photo essays to long feature stories and multimedia packages. Good luck out there!

 

 

Show Don’t Tell

The deeper I get into my Winter term video project, the more challenging it becomes to wade through the material I’ve amassed and keep the story focused.  I’m tempted to provide too much detail, background information, and context in order to convey a multi-dimensional character.

He Who Dances On Wood video effectively cuts to the heart of the story, without bogging us down in unnecessary process or detail.  In a beautifully poetic piece – both narratively and cinematically – we learn why the subject dances, and what it means to him.  It is a great example of “show don’t tell.”

The story is not rushed.  In fact, the first minute is very quiet, allowing anticipation to build, with fantastic morning light, imagery, and different POVs to set the scene around the tunnel where he dances.  It’s not until one minute in that we hear the character tapping.

At 1:06 there’s a creative shot with the tap shoes hanging from a tree.

1:24-1:34 slow motion is used, keeping with the unhurried pace, yet holding viewer interest.  The opening two minutes are primarily intimate, we get to know the character up close.  At 2:00, the shots open up as we see other people in the frame, passing by as the subject dances.

Nice detail shots and symbolism as he describes his relationship with the wood and with rhythm / time:

2:35 a nice silhouette effect.

A key overall takeaway for me in this video, is how cinematic techniques can be used to allow the character space to reflect on the past or present.  For example, the quiet scenes of nature and subtle movement, or the character himself walking along the river, in slow motion, or staring into the sunset.

Wonderful character selection – I thought the narrative was deep and rich – taking us way beyond the surface level story.

Film School Shorts: Comedic Relief in Suspense

An ill-fated criminal speeds up to a deserted gas station in his Ford Mustang. The attached 24-hour convenient mart blares twangy country music as its only employee behind the counter flips through a “Home & Life” magazine. Swiftly moving through the aisles, the customer finds what he came for and approaches the counter. His demeanor and mannerisms express the need to quickly pay and leave. The clerk warns him of an approaching storm––completely unenthused by his sense of urgency. Astute composition and camera movement in the short film Open 24 Hours by Henry Chaisson of Brown University reflects techniques used in some of the greatest thrillers in cinema. This short film published by OPB’s Film School Shorts shows viewers how vexing one detour can become in a matter of seconds. What makes Open 24 Hours unique is its nod to true suspense with a touch of comedic flair.


Every shot in the opening sequence alludes to a potentially dangerous man with a secret in his trunk. The intro begins with an old Mustang swinging into a vacant gas station; the only source of light outside comes from above the gas pump (0:16). Before the noisy Mustang’s arrival, cricket chirps are the only sign of life.

At (0:27), the wide shot of the car cuts to a medium shot of the subject’s trunk, which is held for five seconds before the camera pans left––focusing attention on the driver’s boots as he steps out of the car. The camera slowly tilts up with high-pitched music becoming increasingly louder to reveal the back of the driver’s head looking up at the empty convenient store. At this point, his face has not been revealed, depicting the subject as mysterious and potentially dangerous.

Secluded location: Big storm. The wide and ultra wide shots of inside the empty market reinforce the sense of isolation we gather in the intro.  As the subject grabs the only two items he came for (rope and duct tape), the camera slowly pans toward the clerk who’s unaware and uninterested in the shopper’s quick arrival to the cash register (1:41).

When the driver says, “no,” to being an “Extra Value” member of the store, the clerk insists on using her card for his purchase. This particular sequence is prolonged to raise the stakes for the man with a mystery in the trunk of his car.

A series of action/reaction shots between the clerk and the criminal create tension in the scene. After scanning the value card, an exorbitant amount of coupons slowly prints at the register as the subject looks on in awe.

Rather than compress time, editors extended the register scene to emphasize the awkward, high tension exchange between killer and clerk.

For viewers, the conflicting expressions between the two allude to an impending climax: we can sense a problematic event looming over our characters in the film. The contents of the man’s car trunk remain a mystery, yet we do know he needs to act fast. His car continues to rock back and forth and coupons continue to print (2:45).

Suspense peaks when a human hand punches through the Mustang’s taillight as we see an arm flailing outside the trunk (3:28).

Gobbling down a donut, a new customer looms over the duct tape and rope the man tries to purchase; he represents small-town law enforcement (4:33). The officer asks: “Special night?”

Realizing the man did not pay for the purchase, the officer chases after him out the door (5:29). The camera focuses on the clerk who comes face-to-face with the temptation to steal money-saving coupons. She eventually scoops up all the “Extra Value” coupons and shoves them in her purse while the bandit, the officer, and the victim chase each other back and forth directly behind our view of the clerk. Oblivious to the impending gunshots, the short ends with a boisterous maniacal laugh.

“You naughty thing, you!”

This Film School Short uses a variety of techniques to exude tension and suspense. In addition to the composition of action/reaction shots in Open 24 Hours, the casting and lighting play significant roles in the overall feel of the film. The coolness of the color palette and the strategic sound effects alluded to the idea that the main character was indeed a killer.

Onscreen, the filmmakers depict the odd exchange between characters in a way that provokes comedic relief while still maintaining its initial feel of impending doom. I find that the most entertaining thrillers have an absurd or comedic air about them as we can see in Open 24 Hours. In just seven minutes, the film evokes a variety of emotions and leaves the viewer postulating the ending. After all, we still don’t know who was shot. We only know that the clerk went home with a purse-full of stolen coupons, which producers placed emphasis on instead of the chase outside. This quirky ending seals the deal for me: indeed funny and suspenseful.

A Study in Pacing

I’m not sure why I didn’t start watching National Geographic’s Youtube channel sooner, or why it didn’t come up in my searches when I was looking for stories like this. Somehow Google and the Internet figured out what I was up to and suggested this video to me, but that’s a talk for another day.

This 109-year-old World War II Veteran’s story was shot beautifully and the music was placed really well within the piece. As a study, I think this piece does a great job of pacing. The music, the transitions, the gaps between quotes and the scenes are all calm and slow. You don’t have to watch the whole 12 minute video to get the idea, but the story progresses slowly, but he moves slowly. So, I think that’s why it works so well.

I mean, 109 years doesn’t pass quickly. The first time you get a sense of this feeling is when he gets in his pick-up truck (yes, he just got his license renewed the year the video was shot), and he puts the key in the ignitions. I never thought about this, but putting your keys in the ignition is a fairly quick task. The vet didn’t take forever, but it definitely took an extra second or two, and it’s impossible to not feel.

Another time I really get a sense of it is when he’s depicted in what looks like the hallway leading to the exit of a generic mall. They stand there for about 10 seconds, he takes her purse so she can put her cane int he other hand. The entire exchange took about 10 seconds before they took another step.

The pacing, living slow, really brings the emotional element of understanding this person to the forefront. The guy basically eats, drinks and smokes what he wants and he’s happy.

 

 

The Man Without A Mask

Here is a great piece of advertising.

If you’re not familiar with lucha libre, the words are Spanish language, and they refer to a type of wrestling that is athletic entertainment popular in Mexico especially. It is very similar to what we know as WWE wrestling here in the U.S. Likewise the term luchador refers to a fighter or wrestler.

Roger Ross Williams (Look him up! Amazing body of work!) created this video, which was based on a profile of Cassandro, the Mexican lucha libre luchador written by William Finnegan for The New Yorker.

There are three points I want to focus on in considering this piece: the subject, the lighting during the interview, and the beats that build the arc of the story. Take a look:

http://www.newyorker.com/culture/culture-desk/how-the-drag-queen-cassandro-became-a-star-of-mexican-wrestling

The subject: I love how musical Cassandro is on camera. He is very expressive and adds to that with his hand and shoulder movements. And his voice is so animated, especially as he’s talking about putting on his make up and feeling beautiful and ready for the stage right from the start of the interview.

The lighting: In class we briefly talked about Spike Lee and the importance of lighting people of color properly. We learned about the ratio of light to dark, and where the light should be in relation to the camera. I’m curious about the way Williams decided to light Cassando, and whether or not there were factors beyond his control that made directing the light a challenge because there are shadows created by the contours of Cassandro’s face, and at times he appears shiny. The shine could be due to his makeup though.

This is small thing, but there also seems to be a mix of natural light and artificial light, based on the change in the light on his face around 3:54, and then again if you pay attention through the rest of the piece. I had this issue in a piece I made last year, so this is a reminder for me about why natural light can be both a gift and a curse during long sit-down interviews.

The story beats: The story arch is very much like a roller coaster that peaks and falls continuously as we hear about the early years of Cassandro, his early years as a gay wrestler, his coming out as an éxotico and being able to embrace himself and be embraced by others. Then the toll his art has taken on his body, and how he’s “made peace with the pain” and has overcome that challenge by teaching. And then the big reveal, long before Cassandro there was 6 year old Saúl Armendáriz, and he was sexually abused for eleven years, until he came to a turning point in his life and decided to fight back. Then we slowly start to descend, but it’s not a straight line to the conclusion: domestic violence, death and loss, addiction, self-harm, defeat, redemption. All of this is illuminated and the overall piece elevated by the music and pristine audio, the use of archival footage, and the selective use of slow motion in pivotal moments, including the pull out on the family picture that slowly reveals Sául’s father as he admits that his father abused his mother (8:15). The use of fade to black was great, and the final fade to white I loved because white represents hope and freedom.

I hope you enjoyed this piece as much I did!

1000 Years of Less Ordinary

I follow Wieden + Kennedy’s London office on Facebook, and by the end of this blog post I know you’ll want to too. This post is about three elements of the “1000 Years of Less Ordinary” Finlandia vodka campaign: video portraits, sound, and the “unaswered question.”

The video portraits: I love the initial video portraits. There are so many interesting looking people, and then there is the text, which is presumably their ages. You get a few seconds to take in some of the individuals and then around 0:12 the portraits speed up, and you only get a flash of each person. This is important because it builds intrigue and if you’re like me, it hooks you and you continue to watch for another few seconds instead of scrolling on to the next thing in your social media feed.

The music: All the while the music, which sounds like a racing heart, with sounds of people physically exerting themselves builds and builds. This technique may make you feel as if your adrenaline is high. It did for me, and my curiosity and excitement about what would come next built too: Who are these people? What’s their story? What makes them remarkable at age X?

The unanswered question: And finally, we are introduced to one of the most important characters in the story: vodka. But it’s not just any vodka, it’s Finlandia vodka that appears very clearly at 00:50. This sets up the central question. The unanswered question. What is 1000 years of less ordinary? And what does Finlandia vodka have to do with being less ordinary? This is a significant point in the arch of the story because we need the unanswered question for us to care about these subjects and their lives, and above all for us to care (and want to buy) Finlandia vodka.

Finally, the big reveals of each subject in the montage of portraits, and it becomes very clear that Finlandia vodka is their vodka of choice in their less ordinary lives. My favorite quote of them all, “Be nobody’s bitch but your own” from Cassandro, the Mexican drag wrestler. Now we understand what less ordinary looks like, and what less ordinary people drink. Don’t we want to be less ordinary? Hell yeah we do!

Great advertising! Read the short explanation about the concept here.