MMJ V

“Grandpa’s magic trick” is an award-winning commercial for Norwegian airlines Widerøe. The ad celebrates the sense of wonder about flying and will make your heart melt.

The very first shot – a portrait of a cute little boy with puzzled expression on his face – leaves the viewer guessing: so what is grandpa’s trick?

In the interview for Adweek ad’s copywriter Stein Simonsen and art director Torstein Greni said: “every magic trick has an element of surprise, but maybe this story has two. There’s the trick itself, and then there’s the trick of making the magic relevant to an airline’s frequent flights to remote places.”

The structure of the commercial is simple: 14 close-up action/reaction shots and a wide closing shot.

0:28 – tense moment: music mutes, both grandson and the viewer hold their breath – the magic is about to happen, the question will be answered now (watch it!).

Heartwarming script, fascinating setting, charismatic actors, smart editing, light warm colors and beautiful music – all these elements combined make the video unforgettable.

“Fencing is always on my mind,” says Brooklyn-native Nzingha Prescod. “It can be hard to find motivation to do this every day.” In Nzingha, a short documentary film about the 24-year-old American female foil fencer, director Anderson Wright captures the passionate Prescod as she trains for the August 2016 Rio Olympic games. A cinematic sequence narrated by Prescod’s inner dialogue walk us through the fast-paced, high-stake competitions that made her fall in love with the sport. Viewers navigate through her mind with the use of jump cuts and high-tension audio tracks. Sound design, jump cuts, and POV shots from inside a Brooklyn subway station enhance the strategic and high-stakes nature of the sport.

NZINGHA from Anderson Wright on Vimeo.

 

After filming a series of indoor and outdoor training sessions, a POV shot cuts to Prescod’s window-view from a moving subway––where she is riding alone (2:01). “When I fence the best, I visualize it,” she says. A series of intentional jump cuts begin at this close-up profile shot (2:08) and continues for 10 seconds. Implementing these cuts in post-production speeds up the rhythm of the story while the layering of audio bites makes the viewer feel Prescod’s mind racing. This leaves the audience feeling anxious and intrigued, awaiting the next scene in Nzingha.

The sounds that accompany this stylistic back-and-forth editing set the emotional tone of the story. At approximately (2:11), a blurry wide shot of outside the Subway car cuts back to a medium shot of Prescod “thinking out loud.” Dialogue, sound effects, and music comprise the audio in this scene. The sounds from inside the train to outside in the tunnel are particularly fascinating, for they complement the context of Prescod’s inner dialogue.In a distant echoing voice, she shares her inner thoughts when fencing in real-time (2:13): “Don’t hesitate. Push. Pull. Close the distance. Take the blade. Pressure. Release.” Different elements of audio complement this fast-paced rhythm. We hear the sound of the Subway train whizzing by soon-to-be passengers from inside the tunnel and when we return to Prescod on the train, the clanking of train-tracks reverberate off the underground walls. At (2:15), the sound of screeching breaks on the tracks sets the ambience; the restriction of train movement alludes to the scene coming to a halt or coming to a head. A wide shot of two fencers in the tunnel fills the frame as the train whizzes past. This is the first and only time we see them in this scene.Twenty-three total shots from the subway scene have a duration of less than half of a second. The stylistic decision to edit these close–to–wide shots as jump cuts on an isolated train-ride with three high-tension audio tracks creates a heightened experience for viewers in a matter of seconds. We begin to feel the subject’s dedication to attention and precision as a fencer because in competition, you too have less than half of a second to think.

On February 29, 2016, the innovative production studio Media Storm published a short documentary showing drought devastation in a farming community in rural California. Andrew Michael Ellis, director of the short film Life After Water, and his team dedicated their last day of filming to capture drone footage of the central valley. Their use of long tracking shots and aerial drone footage filmed through a narrow frame heightens the cinematic feel of how climate change can make or break an entire farm and the families that inhabit them.

The most notable stylistic choice that increases the impact of Life After Water is the constant moving camera work. At (0:27), a high frame rate camera pushes-in to introduce the workers of Jesus Ramos’ farm in Terra Bella, California. These slow push-in shots fly forward––giving viewers a chance to look straight into the eyes of those affected by the drought. “Water disappears, the labor disappears,” Ramos says. “Water disappears, my farming disappears.” His voice––in a way––narrates the story, walking viewers through acres of farmland.

The film then cuts to a series of shots––from all different angles––pushing-in toward the same direction (0:41). There is a consistency that ties the shots together. An eye-level POV shot shows viewers devastation caused by the drought and at (0:47), an aerial shot depicts the acres of dried-up orchards.

As Bramos talks about his journey to “el norte” (the north) from Mexico, a fly-over shot of desert land creates a sense of reveal depicting acres and acres of lush square patches of American farmland (1:23). This long horizontal shot encompasses the vast California valley and exudes sentiments of hope and a new beginning for Bramos and his family.

At (2:04), the camera continues to be in motion; however, in this wide cinematic shot, the camera moves backwards even though the subject is coming toward us. For a few seconds, the camera tracks with Bramos riding his tractor and then the story returns to a series of aerial fly-over shots to emphasize the 140 acres of farmland Bramos maintains (2:13).

A dolly shot of the orchard at (2:52) cross-fades into another shot moving in the same direction. The producers and editors have implemented several rising shots and drone work to help viewers comprehend the capacity of land that is at stake. At (3:11), one of these wide rising shots depicts a bulldozer taking out the farm’s trees. This scene conveys economic devastation as a result of lack of water.

The editors stylistically shift gears at (5:14): instead of swooping drone shots, they provide a series of close-ups that fill the frame––showing detail in the drought devastation. Cobwebs flicker in the sun and curled up yellow leaves dangle from their branches.

A long shot slowly tilts up to reveal what’s left of the land after the bulldozing (5:46). After interviewing experts on the lack of water allocation, an overhead drone shot begins close-up and quickly pulls-out to uncover the acres of ruined land (6:03).

One of the last scenes in Life After Water amplifies the cinematic value of the non-linear documentary. Impressive handheld camera work captures an action/reaction shot that follows our subject in real time as he witnesses his actual trees being destroyed (7:27).

 

Johanna Under The Ice – NOWNESS from NOWNESS on Vimeo.

Dry suits, electric suits, and 45 minutes filming underwater at a time. It’s negative 14 degrees Fahrenheit above the frozen lake. Director Ian Derry lands in Finland to meet the world champion free diver under ice: Johanna Nordblad. Hesitant, Derry slips into the dry suit and jumps into the freezing water. “I looked around under the ice, and it was then I was hooked,” said Derry. I knew the only way to show this was from a drone.” The dynamic shots seen in Johanna Under the Ice create dramatic depth between the subject and her environment––evoking a sense of isolation and danger.

Within the first scene, the videographer uses compositional techniques to create depth between the camera and the subject, Johanna. At (0:17), a wide establishing shot of the frozen lake introduces viewers to the environment. The lines and patterns naturally existing in the trees have been framed to create depth.

A hip-level tracking shot follows Johanna trudging through the snow (0:19), which then cuts to a POV shot representing the subject’s vantage point (0:21). The third shot in this sequence provides viewers an interesting perspective (0:24). The overhead drone serves two purposes: 1) Shooting from above makes the subject seem much smaller and 2) It gives viewers a sense of the size of the location. The subject comprises a small part of the frame; surrounding trees tower over her with no one else in sight.

We see a classic cinematic shot as Johanna continues her trek through the forest. In narrative filmmaking, we refer to this shot framing Johanna as eye candy by the placement of vertical objects in the foreground (0:31). This shot shows the verticality of the trees versus the horizontal frame, which also depicts the detailed patterns of snow on each tree. The combination of positioning the camera with a slight left-to-right motion and the vertical trees in the background dramatically heighten the sense of depth in this scene.

At (0:38), a medium shot provides viewers with a wide field-of-view while also exaggerating the foreground, which depicts Johanna looking out onto the snow-covered frozen lake. This perspective illustrates the massive length and width of the lake.

After facing the subject and slowly pulling away, the camera begins tracking with her as she walks over the lake (0:50). A medium shot––using a high frame-rate camera––slightly pushes in as she treads along.

A cutaway close-up of the subject’s shoes and ice pick fills the screen briefly before cutting back to Johanna walking. A series of dynamic shots achieved by the drone break up this standard chronology and allow viewers to get into Johanna’s headspace before her dive under ice. Instead of making the journey process-driven, Derry reworks temporal space using an intercutting technique that we first see at (0:58). We begin seeing parallel editing with the future in Johanna Under the Ice. 

A high-angle composition (1:01) takes us back to the journey––just seconds before cutting to Johanna shaving a hole in the ice (1:04). While she imagines the future in her mind, the composition depicts it by jumping forward in time to her cutting a safety hole. Viewers don’t necessarily need to see Johanna cutting through ice. However, by sprinkling flashes of the process-heavy shots throughout her walk on the lake, viewers can focus on the formality of the compositions and enjoy the cinematic metaphors of Johanna under the ice.

“There is no place for fear,” Johanna says. “No place for panic.” An underwater tracking shot follows the subject swimming on her back (1:43). She faces the ice directly above her––hands gliding along the glass surface. This shot elicits the real danger in that very moment. Viewers feel anxious from witnessing a subject with no dive team or oxygen tank swim in freezing waters under ice. The camera placement and compositional techniques of Johanna Under Ice help serve the story effectively. Parallel editing with aerial drone footage and slow-moving tracking shots put viewers between real time and the future. After getting in the ice queen’s headspace, we pose the obvious unanswered question, will our subject come to the surface when the time comes?

Marcus Yam is a staff photographer at Los Angeles Times. I followed him on Twitter during the San Bernardino shooting in 2015. I was gathering photographs online for my religious study class’s daily news presentation. Hyperlinks and mouse clicks got me on Marcus’s Twitter page. Ever since that day, Marcus Yam as a visual journalist inspires me to continue pursuing my dream in photojournalism¹.

Marcus was born and raised in Kuala Lumpur, Malaysia. He left his science career in Aerospace Engineering to start a new life as a visual journalist. Before he moved to Los Angeles, Marcus was part of The Seattle Times team covered the deadly landslide in Oso Washington and earned a Pulitzer Prize for Breaking News Reporting in 2014. From 2012 to 2013, Marcus worked as a contributor to The New York Times and a short film included his feature in,  “The Home Front” earned him an Emmy Award, a World Press Photo multimedia grand prize, an Alfred I. duPont-Columbia University Award, a Pictures of the Year International Multimedia Award and a DART Award for TraumaCoverage².

I conducted an email interview with Marcus during his preparation as one of the keynote speakers for Atlanta Photojournalism Seminar on November 08, 2016.

• I remember your Twitter Bio used to say, “former rocket scientist,” what makes you want to be a visual journalist? 

It’s a long story. I stumbled into photography by accident. Being a foreign student in the US meant that I needed English credits to graduate with my engineering degree. Yes, I was in school for aerospace engineering. Long story short – the college newspaper back then provided the English credits I required if you wrote or took pictures for them. So out of sheer laziness, I opted for the latter. I bought the first my first camera and started taking pictures. It was mostly very amateurish stuff: Concerts, friends, and athletic events. The work that I did for the college newspaper ended up on a photo editor’s desk at the Buffalo News who was the advisor for it. I guess he liked what he saw. He tracked me down, and we had a conversation about what I wanted to do with my life. I told him I didn’t even think photography was a career and I was adamant about fulfilling my dream. He then offered me an internship, told me that I ought to at least try it out. He said, if I didn’t like it, I could return to doing engineering and forget this ever happened.

So I took his offer and fell in love with it. Three or four weeks into the internship, I decided that this was what I was going to do for the rest of my life.

• What is the hardest part about your job as the visual journalist?

The hardest part of my job is coming up with fresh and relevant ideas that contextualize what’s happening in the news cycle. And making necessary personal sacrifices that come with this profession. (I don’t have much of a personal life)

• What steps did you take to get the job as the visual journalist for Los Angeles Times or your pervious job at NYT, Seattle Times?

There aren’t any steps to how I came to be where I am. Everything I’ve done – are mostly steps taken with the philosophy of doing what others are not doing. When they zig, you zag. That’s something someone told me early on when I was first starting out.

When I was first starting out, I knew I needed additional foundation as I didn’t know anything about photojournalism. So I applied and was accepted into the Ohio University Visual Communications School. It was an immersive documentary photojournalism program meant for mid-career photographers to get retooled and retrained – so that they can re-enter the industry. Me and my roommate Peter Hoffman were the youngest graduate students in the program as everyone else was about 30 then. It was a fantastic boot camp. Before I could complete graduate school, I got an internship offer to the New York Times. I had the time of my life there.

After my internship, I then transitioned into a full-time freelancer. From there, I decided that I needed to work on my vision and execution more because I wasn’t growing fast enough as a freelancer working to make a living, paycheck-to-paycheck. So I decided that I needed to be in an immersive environment where I could spread my creative wings more. I applied to the Seattle Times and got accepted there. From there, the Los Angeles Times recruited me down to work for them a year and a half later.

• How long did it take for you to get where you are?

Long. Longer than I had wanted it to be. I would count it since 2010.

• Was it hard finding a job as visual journalist/ photographer in the field?

No, I wasn’t really looking hard enough. I think opportunities will open up when you least expect it but only if you are ready for it.

• What advice can you give me to share with my classmates?

Yes, don’t just think about making a nice box to fit in the world full of boxes. Think about what-other-shaped-container you’d like to enter the world with. In a round about silly way of describing things: hone your vision and execution. That matters more than affirmations or validations. At the end of the day, it’s about what you are adding to the conversation and doing something to create change.

Article about him:

Who Does The New York Times Follow on Instagram?

His recent works:

A huge Trump head is burned an effigy in front of city hall #dtla (courtesy of Marcus Yam’ Twitter).

Tonight feels surreal. Protesters, megaphones, cops, helicopters, jammed freeways and a ton of people LIVE STREAMING every second. #dtla (courtesy of Marcus Yam’ Twitter).

Ashley and Carol embrace each other as the election results continue to stream in – in favor of Donald Trump. #Elections2016 (courtesy of Marcus Yam’ Twitter).

Meanwhile, in Los Angeles: Libertarian candidate for President, Gary Johnson, makes a campaign appearance on Sunset Blvd (courtesy of Marcus Yam’ Twitter).

Eerie: Burned cars on Hwy 138 sit in the glow of the full moon as #BlueCutFire rages on (courtesy of Marcus Yam’ Twitter).

“WALL OFF TRUMP” protest outside the #RNCinCLE (courtesy of Marcus Yam’ Twitter).

Single (courtesy of Marcus Yam’ website)

San Bernardino shooting (courtesy of Marcus Yam’ website)

1. Photo by Damon Winter. Courtesy of Marcus Yam’s website.
2. Yam, M (2016) http://www.marcusyam.com

In case everyone didn’t get enough Slomo in class last week in Joshua Izenburg’s NYT Op-Doc, here he is again, in a music video!  I chose to share this video because it’s a great example of how to implement time lapse in a way that serves your story.  In this case, it highlights the subject remaining intentionally still as the world rushes by.  The other technique that stands out in this piece is creative camera angles that result in unique POVs.

The video opens with a time lapse of sunrise and pans over sunbathers at the beach before slowing to normal speed. At 0:12 Slomo enters frame in slow motion.

At 0:15 there is more time lapse of people on the boardwalk, and the pacing begins to establish a pattern of fast, slow, fast slow.

Time lapse is also used a few times to juxtapose Slomo standing still against all the hustle and flow on the boardwalk, passing him by (examples at 0:32, 0:42, 1:33).

There’s a great shadow shot (0:19), shooting through a window provides a reflection effect (0:22), and a true reflection through sunglasses (0:57).

I like that this video played with many different, and unique points of view as well.   At 0:37, 1:18, and 2:23 the camera is underneath Slomo, looking up at him.

While at 0:40 and 0:59 the camera is overhead for more of a birds eye view. I liked the above and below juxtaposition as well.

And at a couple points, like 2:03, the camera POV is through Slomo’s eyes.

I thought it was interesting that in some ways, the approach to this video was almost the opposite of the Slomo Op-Doc; where the op-doc leveraged slow motion techniques to slow and suspend time, this music video leaned on time-lapse to show the world moving quickly by Slomo.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Z4HUydk0kII

In a remote Brazilian slum, men prepare a chicken dinner. A single chicken realizes he is in danger, then escapes. Divorced from sight and sound, the idea is hardly compelling. However, through deliberate editing, by splicing shots into a visual frenzy and supporting every cut with a rich soundscape, a filmmaker can craft this concept into a world that engages the viewer on the most visceral level.

My favorite opening sequence of all time is from Fernando Meirelles’ film “City of God” (2003). There are more than 50 visual cuts in the first 30 seconds. But before the audience sees a single frame, they are put on guard by sound.

The film starts with an extremely quick L-cut from a black screen. Before the viewer sees the knife, we hear the sound of metal scraping against rock. The sound is followed by a close-up of a hand pulling a blade over a whetstone. The screen cuts to black immediately after the knife exits frame. The sound finishes. From black to image to black again, the entire sequence takes less than one second. The editor repeats this sequence five times. Each time either the direction of the knife or the composition changes. The scraping creates an unsettling rhythm. The rhythm of the knife contrasts with the hectic beat of a Brazilian instrumental that fades up after the third scrape. A close up of a man playing guitar is on the screen for a fraction of a second. Title Sequence. That’s just the first 8 seconds. I’m all in. My attention is grabbed. The knife presents danger; the quick cuts propel the scene forward.

Watch the video. I could describe every sound and shot, but it is better to experience them. However, I will highlight some of the techniques at work.

The frequency of cuts increases as the first minute progresses. The editor also removes the cuts to black. This makes the sequence feel like it is building energy. Almost all of the shots in the first minute are close-ups. There are no establishing shots. This provides a lot of detail, but the quick cutting between tight shots also can make the viewer feel claustrophobic. The hand-held camera work provides energy and lends itself to the chaotic tone.

There is a great application of the Kuleshov effect as the editor cuts back and forth between the chicken’s face and the meal. The chicken wasn’t acting. A chicken’s expression doesn’t change. Sorry. No chicken has yet won an Oscar. However, through editing and the use of close-up, the audience identifies with the chicken and assumes that he is reacting to the horror he sees before him.

While researching this scene, I learned that there is a technique at work here called “elliptical editing.” This technique describes how the shots are sequenced in order to compress time. For instance, something like sharpening a knife and preparing a meal is communicated in several seconds rather several hours. I had not heard this term before, but it’s a common technique. I’ll add it to my vocabulary list.

The chicken gets escapes. The pursuers follow. The story continues. I highly recommend watching this film. One can observe great audio and visual editing throughout. The editors also use music effectivelyto create atmosphere. City of God won numerous awards, including a BAFTA for Best Editing. It was also nominated for four Academy Awards.

https://vimeo.com/142999122%20

The atmospheric HONNE music video shows one day of life of an unusual man who makes cotton candy. It is shot mostly with handheld camera and edited in chronological order, except for establishing shots filmed in a nighttime.

The first sequence (00:00 – 00:20) consists of 9 extreme close-ups showing the process of making cotton candy. First two shots make a fast jump cut to change pace in relation to music, next are match action cuts. The whole sequence sets up the context for a video by showing particular action, the main character and time of day.

The next scene (00:20 – 00:58; 01:17 – 01:23) shows the character carrying his cotton candy machine throughout the city while it is getting darker on the street. To tell this scene, the filmmaker uses wide, medium and tight shots, tracking shots, positive motion and match action cuts. 
At the chorus (00:58) rhythm of the song suddenly changes to quicker and the scene is interrupted with a dance sequence (00:58 – 01:17). The sequence is edited to music in fast-cutting technique, and has a great graphic and conceptual matched cut from 1:07 to 1:09:

At 1:55, exactly in the middle of the music video the filmmaker starts revealing what’s unusual about the main character, cotton candy maker: he creates unique shaped candies and dances while making them.  

The last scene (from 02:42) comprises few action-reaction shots and creative shots from different angles.

From 02:56 to 03:03 there is a great moment of editing to music. The picture matches the sound from silence to gradually louder and faster.

The video is shot outdoors with natural lighting. Made in postproduction faded look with prevailing warm colors creates distinctive mood. Close-up and extreme tight shots also play huge role in this video: they create intimacy and make the viewers feel as if they are there, near the palm trees in warm summer night, having sweet taste in their mouth watching the artist creating a masterpiece.