Videos

I love these “Anatomy of a Scene” pieces from the New York Times movie section. Although I highlighted one already in my previous post, “Anatomy of a Scene: The Revenant,” I wanted to share and comment on this one too because I actually was hoping to do a post on this film related to music, and the ability the music has to editorialize a story, or be “emotional fascism.” Unfortunately, because it’s so new there aren’t very many isolated clips available yet, but take a look at the trailer or listen to this interview with director, Barry Jenkins and Vice media. “Director Barry Jenkins on creating empathy through his film Moonlight.” Skip ahead to 7:22.

http://www.nytimes.com/2016/11/24/movies/barry-jenkins-narrates-a-scene-from-moonlight.html

I like this scene because there is something very spiritual about water, about the ocean, and I like the immersive experience I have as a viewer because the lens is in the water. Deeper still, in listening to Jenkins, and finding out that the child actor Alex Hibbert can’t swim and is actually learning in the process of this scene, it resonates with me in a way it may not to non-African American viewers. There’s something I can’t quite articulate but it’s something to do with watching these two Black males together in the Atlantic Ocean, the body of water that carried so many to the shores of America, and took so many lives, the Middle Passage. Watching the young boy learn to swim really does hint at some element of survival on a deeper level. It’s tragic, and beautiful, and hopeful at the same time… It is as, Jenkins says, “a baptism” and I feel the “spiritual transference” he is talking about.

In terms of the visual language, what struck me right away was the use of the water, and cutting on the action of the water to make less jolting jump cuts, and to transition match cuts more easily too. If you look closely there are a number of examples; one of the most easy to spot happens at 00:45. It’s a match cut. There’s a jump cut at about 1:05, and it’s cut perfectly on the point where the water crests the lens.

I’ll be seeing Moonlight in full this weekend at Cinema 21. I’m looking forward to watching the rest of the film with a keen eye.

Steve Amen is the creator of the OPB television show Oregon Field Guide, which has remained one of the highest rated shows in the PBS system for its 28 years on the air.

Amen is preparing to retire from Oregon Public Broadcasting after shepherding the show through hundreds of stories.

I’ve always enjoyed the show’s journalistic style, but I’ve wondered what film-making strategies have made it such a success. Their stories have taken on environmental issues like invasive species and wolf reintroduction but also ambitious explorations of the Mt. St. Helens crater, the little-known slot canyon nicknamed “Valhalla”  and the ice caves that have formed on Mt. Hood as its glaciers melt from the inside out.

Amen said the show has won dozens of awards over the years using some basic storytelling principles, but all of the stories they tell aim to be objective and stick to the basic tenants of journalism.

Before he started working at OPB, he worked in television news.

“With my news background and OPB’s mission, I thought it wasn’t our job to tell our viewers how to think,” he said. “We have never in 28 years taken a position on something.”

His philosophy is ‘Don’t tell me. Show me.’

“We try to find people who really know what they’re talking about,” he said. “We’re not giving a report. We’re telling a story. We’re taking the viewers along with us, not talking at them. We have respect for our viewers, that they’re willing to take the time to think about these issues.”

To tell a great Oregon Field Guide story, he said, the pre-production process is critical to find great, articulate characters who can help tell the story.

“By telling their story, we can tell a bigger story,” Amen said.

One example: The story of 98-year-old Frankie Dugal, who lives without electricity in eastern Oregon and makes ropes out of horse hair.

In this story, the viewer really gets to know this woman and see her process for making horse hair. We also see her firing up her wood stove, riding a horse and talking about the unnecessary conveniences of modern life like microwaves.

Shooters for the program use a lot of sequencing to step viewers through the stories. But the show rarely uses music, Amen said.

“We’ll only use it if we don’t have any natural sound, like when a story is mostly archival or you’re spending 30 minutes in a glacial cave with dripping water sounds,” he said. “You can only take that for so long before you have to pee.”

Amen said using music runs the risk of editorializing the story, and he’d rather hear natural sound – especially outdoors.

“I won’t want music when I’m outdoors,” he said. “I’d rather hear hooves on the ground, boots in the woods, breaking twigs. Natural sound makes for better storytelling. We can take people on a journey and give them a better sense of what’s it’s like. It puts a huge amount of pressure on our shooters and producers. But it makes a huge difference.”

The show does employ narration, Amen said, because cinema verite is “really, really hard.”

“There are times when you need that transition or the interpreter who breaks down a complicated issue for you,” he said. “That’s where narration comes in.”

Ultimately, he wants the show to bridge the urban-rural divide, to find characters who can give people a better understanding of what life is like around the state.

“These are good people. You need to meet them,” he said. “And here’s what they have to say.”

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=oUrx7IOBX7g

Here’s a scene from one of my favorite television shows period. Rectify.

I was thinking a lot about depth of field, and searching for clips to illustrate that concept. Bonus, though; This clip also gives us an example of the racked shot technique multiple times within this scene.

Depth of field is best illustrated in this scene from 00:37 to 00:55. With that camera trick employed, we have both the Charlie, the minister, and protagonist, Daniel, in our line of view, both very clear and sharp in the shot. Question: Does depth of field illumnate this scene? Yes, I think so on a deeper level. Staring at Daniel laying down on his cot through that tiny slot in the door, allows me to empathize with him. He looks trapped in that little rectangle. He IS trapped in that rectangle, his jail cell where he is alone in solitary confinment. Charlie, like the audience is on the outsdie peering in.

Watch ahead around 1:10 for the question, “how long has it been since you heard music, Daniel?” Then comes the close up of Daniel, again through the door slot, and as Charlie sets down the tape recorder his hand and the device quickly, but gradually come into focus, while Daniel is thrown out of focus. And then again a few seconds later, Daniel is back in focus but the device is not. This happens one more time around 2:14 as well.

If you haven’t seen Rectify, I highly recommend it. It’s a slow burn kind of drama, but the acticing and storytelling are masterful. I’m looking forward to going back and watching it a second time with a more descerning eye for camera techniques like the ones illustrated in this clip.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=zBbfVHh3OUg

On the topic of the visual language (and stories without words), I thought this artistic music video from Khruangbin would be an excellent illustration of the 180° rule, or “crossing the axis,” and motivated camera movement.

The first scene the POV is from the outside of the car looking in at the protagonist’s right side. The camera begins to move closer and around her, almost as if to complete a 180° so that the POV becomes from her left. But before that action can be completed, boom, we’re slightly disoriented, because the camera cut to the other side instead. We’re now looking on at her from her left side.

Thinking about motivated movement, at 00:15 the protagonist notes the string tied to her wedding band. A few seconds later at 00:22 the camera subtly begins to move away from her, motivating the audience to follow it, to follow the string, which is gently tugging her from some unknown place outside of the frame.

Until about 2:20, the string is the object that is motivating us to move with the camera through about three different scenes. The scene where the protagonist, and the man at the end of the string begin to dance, also offers illustrations of the axis being crossed, but maybe it works here because the scene is very magical, and they’re dancing. I don’t mind it, but what about you?

In 2012, a group of journalism students from the University of Oregon produced a multimedia production for Flux magazine. They traveled to Redmond, Oregon where they interviewed and filmed smokejumpers––firefighters who launch themselves out of planes in hopes of ceasing aggressive wildfires. The producers and editors behind the video component Up in Smoke take their audience through a day in the life of these aerial heroes. A clever arrangement of composition, POV, and shooting style exude the sense of danger and urgency smokejumpers face every day at work.

My favorite scene in Up in Smoke uses a time lapse to show the tree-climbing process during refresher training. At (2:01), we see a smokejumper hoisting himself up a 50+ foot tree. The shooting style of this time lapse helps initiate a relationship between the viewer and the smokejumper. The movement of clouds as the sun sets and the sheer height of the tree elicit a sense of encouragement and awe from the viewer’s perspective. The producers enhance this effect by using a wide-angle lens to exaggerate the relative size of the tree, making the foreground more prominent and striking––all while capturing the expansive background of the forest. The camera follows the smokejumper steadily, creeping closer and closer to the top of the tree. This shooting style effectively aids the story; the camera movement following the trainee through the process puts us there. I hope to use this style in future pieces where I want to place the audience in the moment––to share the experience firsthand.

 

At (2:08), the scene then cuts to another tilted shot upward that moves the viewer closer and closer to the subject. The angle of this time lapse continues to show the viewer the physical demands of this climb as the sun continues descending and the sky gets darker and darker. At (2:22), the producers conclude the scene by pulling away from the jumper as he retreats down the trunk of the tree.

A fade to black transitions to the next scene: an angled profile shot in daylight on the tarmac of the crews’ Jump Spot plane––preparing for takeoff (2:27). The shallow depth of field emphasizes the propellers of the plane while high levels of natural sound from the engine allude to viewers that training is over; the time has come to free-fall 100-feet with your jump partner and 70 pounds of gear in tow.

As one of the jumpers approaches his leap, a medium shot (2:44) from inside the plane captures gear double-checks at mere seconds before the descent. The camera then turns on him––a GoPro attached to his hard hat (3:05). The point-of-view shot answers the unanswered question: Will he land safely?

The shot cuts to the Jump Spot safely on land (3:27) where the audience witnesses safe arrivals from all across the base camp. We see a series of three jump cuts; tensions are high and people and cargo are coming out of the sky.

Although different crew members are landing in real time 1,000s of feet apart, they are framed in a way that depicts their close proximity. A long lens is used to compress the shot; the large depth of field helps juxtapose members all safely in one–conclusive spot. At (3:41), he finally joins the rest of his team as the angle from the point-of-view GoPro shows the abrupt, but safe landing of the jumper.

The use of wide angle lenses, long shots, jump cuts, and POV help make this piece effective in telling the story of a day in the life of a smokejumper. When stakes are high and I want to engage my viewers with an unanswered question, I plan to use the same fast-paced, POV shooting style that the producers of Up in Smoke have utilized in service of the story.