Author: abaker7

Last month, REI published a multimedia story called the “Brotherhood of Skiing” about a nationwide club for black skiers. The National Brotherhood of Skiers began in 1973, and today it consists of 53 different African-American groups – thousands of skiers – from across the U.S. I stumbled upon the video portion of this project because it was recently a Vimeo Staff Pick. Even though it is clearly a promotional video, the producers employed a range of techniques to make it both highly informative and engaging.

This film relies heavily on archival footage and newspapers to amplify what the interviewees are describing. The interview subjects tell their own story (there’s no voiceover), but much of the video follows the “story without words” model. Even without the interview, the audience could tell from the music and selected archival footage that the gatherings went from a period of uncertainty – a single bus going up the mountain paired with images of the national guard – to a heyday, illustrated by hundreds of people dancing at a Colorado ski resort. The producers chose a narrative structure that “hooks” viewers by developing an unanswered question for the first two minutes of the story, “will the group be able to ski (safely)?” Then, it cuts ahead to the 1993 dance party, and the viewer knows the club was not only allowed to ski, but it also prospered.

There are a lot of camera movements in this film that add a commercially polished look while complimenting the nature of the subject. The filmmakers were deliberate about why they shot each scene a certain way. Slow motion of skiers at 3:16 with a small depth of field elevates the act of skiing, adding drama. To these clubs, the shot suggests, this activity is more than just skiing. At 3:32, 3:37 and later at 5:30, it appears that the cameraperson is skiing down the hill next to the subject. The viewer is in the action, and you understand what the interviewees are saying – it’s just fun to go fast. At 3:45, I thought at first that the filmmakers used a drone to slide the camera vertically, but it could also have been done with a small gimbal like the OSMO DJI+. The same kind of camera movement continues through 4:10 (and is sprinkled throughout the remainder of the film). It’s a little shaky – more like I’d imagine the handheld gimbal looking than a drone. This would be a great tool to use for a scene like this, where the filmmaker is moving through and past an energetic crowd. The slightly unstable movement also compliments what’s actually being filmed: a lively celebration. At 5:28, I can’t tell if they’re still using a gimbal or if this could be a slider shot going past the subject putting on his ski boots. It’s an impactful moment of the interview that they rightly paired with a cinematic shot. Around 6:05, the video become unsteady again…but it’s footage of a family getting ready to go skiing. It’s like a home video. The type of shot they chose is once again appropriate for the subject matter. This is also just one of the POV techniques in this film that makes the viewer feel like they’re part of the action.

It follows that the interview shots are conventionally composed (tripod shots, framing that follows the rule of thirds). This signals to the viewer: hey, the only thing you need to pay attention to here is the person talking. From about the 2:00-3:00 minute mark, they also paid close attention to cutting with the music and choosing footage that matched the pace of the music. For example, at slower parts, they used shots of skiers gliding across the snow, and for faster more energetic parts of the song they chose clips like skiers jumping or dancing.

Not only did the filmmakers plan how they wanted every shot to look; they also creatively took advantage of what their setting provided. At 6:23, interesting camera motion is added through the cameraperson riding the conveyer belt with skiers. Then, they continue to take advantage of the conveyer belt to do a time lapse of different children riding up the hill. At 3:09, a new scene begins. The viewer starts zoomed way out from the mountain so the skiers are just dots. Then, we zoom closer (ski lifts) and closer (a group of skiers) and closer, until we meet an interview subject at 3:24. They’re sitting next to the interviewee, going up the lift right beside them. It’s a creative way to make the interview feel more personal while guaranteeing that the backdrop is adding something to the story. This technique of zooming in is used throughout the film to balance the bigger picture with individual stories. For example, a series of video portraits begins at 4:32. But these portraits transition to land on one man’s personal (internal) journey from growing up in Schenectady, NY (where people told him, “black people don’t ski”) to being part of the nationally-organized (external) ski club.

Scene changes are indicated using essentially the same formula each time. This reflects what we’ve learned about teaching your audience how to read your story (or, in this case, follow your video). At 4:18, for example, a scene switch is indicated by a change in music, a new visual setting, and a new interviewee. This music and visual setting switch pattern happens in multiple places to que the viewer in to a scene switch, including 3:08, 6:14, and 8:56. There are also some creative transition choices that play off the archival footage. For example, at 2:00 there’s a camcorder-style blue screen to transition into footage from the ‘90’s, and they play up the old-school look again to transition to the credits at 9:46 with a rewind noise and computerized font reading “video calibration.” I think leaning into this style by deliberately using typically “corny” transitions helped the pairing of 4K footage with historical footage play out more seamlessly.

The video is a little reflexive at times, which added to the feeling that the viewer could be out there skiing right alongside everyone. This happens first at 3:24, when you can clearly see the cameraperson in the reflection of the interviewees ski glasses (around 3:42 you can see the camera reflection in a different interviewee’s glasses). At 5:38, you can hear the interviewer ask a follow-question, and then laughing at the response. I think this works in this film because it’s so celebratory; as a viewer, you want to be there chatting with happy people on ski lifts and laughing at their jokes.

“REI Presents: Brotherhood of Skiing” is definitely worth watching, if only for the 90’s ski outfits. But seriously, there’s also a lot to learn from a film-making perspective. They concisely structured the narrative for a story that spans decades, employed a wide range of camera movements with intent, and used multiple interviews to tell both personal stories and a broader historical perspective.

-Ashley

Greener Grass from Gulp Splash on Vimeo.

Recently, I learned about the SXSW awards, so I watched Greener Grass, a winning short film from 2016. The off-kilter comedy, written by Jocelyn DeBoer and Dawn Luebbe, is awkward and surreal. The film pairs normal moments – like one couple asking another, “are you guys going anywhere for the Fourth [of July]?” – with totally bizarre scenes like when a child suddenly turns into a dog and no one bats an eye. It’s set on a soccer field, where two women vie for “perfection,” passive-aggressively competing over children, husbands, and more in a decidedly weird and paranoid world. The entire film feels nostalgic, with many scenes having soft light and blurred edges. At several points, but especially at 10:03, the audio amplifies this feeling through a cheesy 1950’s-esque soundtrack.

While the overall narrative progresses linearly forward, the film feels like a play comprised of numerous, self-contained acts. This is emphasized by fade-to-black transitions between each scene. The acting is likewise theatric. However, since one of the points the film seems to be making is that people – in the film and in real life – are just performing to avoid being judged, the stilted acting fits.

There’s also a gradual building of suspense. First, we learn that one of the main character’s friends has been murdered. Then, at 5:07, there’s a dramatic point of view shift that clues us in further. Vignetting (i.e. shading around the edges) paired with loud breathing noises and shaking convey clearly that we’re now viewing the scene through an outsider’s eyes, possibly through binoculars. This voyeur POV is signaled again at 7:25 where a scene between the two moms continues but on the other side of a hazy windshield. A few minutes later, the breathing and dark shading start up again with a shallow depth of field that contributes to the binocular feel. This pattern of POV shifts at intervals increases the suspense until it reaches a tipping point, when the voyeur is finally revealed.

The producers employed other odd editing techniques that contributed to the overall oddness of the film. For example, at 5:32 a rather jarring j-cut with dramatic music signals the shift from one day on the soccer field to another. Another POV editing trick the filmmakers used happens at 6:35, where the viewer understands that they’re looking at the main characters through a dog’s eyes because of an unusually upward camera angle. They also used super tight shots to boost the uncomfortableness of the film, like at 1:32 and 3:38. Here, the camera is hyper-zoomed in on the character’s mouths which emphasizes how they are striving for superficial perfection while nailing the producer’s apparent goal of unnerving viewers.

Another interesting series of editing choices was made at 4:05, where one character’s jealousy for the other is revealed. This is shown through over-the-shoulder shots where the viewer is tuned in to what the jealous character is focusing on, and then the camera slides slowly towards her envious face as the scene transitions into her pastel daydream.

There is so much to say about this short film. In particular, there’s a lot to learn from it about how to use a persistent editing style to convey greater thematic meaning. I think it’s also a clear case of people who know the rules breaking the rules. Many of the editing choices, from music to transitions, would usually seem corny and amateur. But because the filmmakers employed them consistently and deliberately, the result is as captivating as it is strange.

-Ashley

Love Is Blind from Dan Hodgson on Vimeo.

A repost just in time for Valentine’s Day!

I came across this film totally on accident on a website for an Oregon business accelerator. It won and was nominated for a bunch of awards, including receiving a nomination at the Cannes Film Festival and BIFA, winning the Santa Fe Independent Film Festival for Best Narrative Short, receiving the grand prize at the Fenêtres Sur Courts, and more. Not knowing all this, for the first forty or so seconds I’m thinking, wait, what on earth am I watching? Then you get a snippet of the first plot point: the husband is deaf. Ah, so there will be a story. It’s a classic will-they-get-caught setup for suspense. One thing I want to point out before getting too in the weeds is that I think this film highlights why diversity – in filmmakers, actors, writers, interviewees and so on – is essential for capturing new and innovative stories. How often do you see a film where a main character is deaf? Where they’re using sign language? And it’s not an aside either, not just included for the sake of being diverse; it’s what pulls the whole plot together.

In addition to being a captivating (and funny) story, there’s a lot of great things going on here in terms of composition. Even in the first twenty-five seconds of this film, there at least a dozen different kinds of shots. It opens with a whip pan which throws you right into the rush of events. Then there’s a close-up, an over-the-should point of view shot, two seconds later there’s a cutaway, more over-the-shoulder….you get it. There’s a plethora of examples of matched action, like at nineteen seconds where the guy starts to remove the girl’s shirt and then we cut to a medium shot where the shirt’s halfway off. Another example is at twenty-eight seconds where she jumps into his arms. The fast pace of the sequence works to make the viewer feel like they’re part of the, well, action.

At fifty seconds, the filmmakers use a series of cutaways to show the husband coming home that reveal part – but not all – of what the main conflict in the story’s going to be. Every few seconds it seems like there’s a new plot point that introduces a new unanswered question. At 1:13 the camera moves down to reveal a barrette, and the viewer’s asking, “are those two going to get caught?” or, “how’s the other guy going to slip out?” This is achieved in part with parallel editing, where you see the story as it unfolds for each character. The film rides on the witness point during each shot, and the viewer is jostled between the three. Part of the film’s brilliance is that I found myself rooting for all of the characters at one point or another. I think the ending is fabulous, and I hope you enjoy it, too (but I don’t want to spoil it). By the way, the director, Dan Hodgson, has some other videos that I haven’t checked out yet (but plan to soon). You can find them on his Vimeo.

-Ashley Baker