“Surfer Dan” is a short film created by Camp4 Collective, for the outdoor clothing company Merrell. Camp4 Collective is a group of photographers and videographers who produce “everything from 60 second product videos to half hour documentaries,” according to their LinkedIn page. Their work is often produced with the sponsorship of outdoor companies, like this one, but they’ve also had clients from like Apple. I found their short video “Surfer Dan” interesting because it follows an unlikely adventurer, which is something I aspire to do in my own work as become more comfortable producing video.
The film opens with a bird’s eye view of the ice-filled Lake Superior on the coast of Michigan, and then it cuts to Dan, our main character, scraping the ice off of his from a shot filmed from the inside of the van. The next shot is him loading it with his dogs and surfboards. These jump cuts appear to be intentional, like they could be showing process of getting ready to go find some waves. Before the title even appears, we see him carrying a surfboard across the snow and even diving into the water between chunks of ice.
The coloring has almost a blue-tint to it, conveying a cold feeling for the viewer. This kind of scene-setting and letting the viewer know what this guy goes right up-front works for this piece because it hooks us in. Surfing in ice is not all that common, and even the guys doing it in National Geographic aren’t thought of as the kinds of people you’d expect to see surfing in the dead of winter in Michigan. So, who is the kind of person who would do something so crazy? That’s why the viewer wants to keep watching—to find out who this guy is and what he’s doing out there. The unanswered question could be “who is this person?” or “will he catch a wave?” But it could also be “will he survive the brutal conditions?”
The filmmakers then use a few cutaways in and around Dan’s home to begin to introduce him. While showing these shots, they’re also transitioning into a sort of slice-of-life for Dan, who we see boiling water in his kitchen in the morning and getting dressed for surfing and playing with his dogs. In one shot, his dog stands on top of a propped up surf board while Dan walks around the room while talking about what he wears when he does out in the icy water.
The image stuck with me because even though the light coming from the window may be over exposed, and even though the room is a mess and we’re not even seeing Dan’s face in this, it feels like an environmental portrait almost because shows so much information about who he is. The filmmakers then use a few cutaways in and around Dan’s home to give viewers a better idea of the main and only character in this story. We see close ups of photos of him surfers in his home, medium shots of him interacting with his dog, and boiling water in his kitchen, and a shot of his vehicle license plate that says “UPSURFR” on his old beat-up van. All of this just conveys that this guy, in Michigan, of all places, lives for surfing. Shooting this license plate while Dan loads a surfboard into his van is the very definition of what my professor means when he says “don’t shoot the donut, shoot the donut hole.” These are the kinds of details that make the story.
Moving beyond the visuals, this film contains both an internal and external conflict. Externally, we’re following Dan on his quest to find some good waves in icy Lake Superior and there’s an unanswered question of whether or not Surfer Dan will get to surf. The way its shot feels like we’re with him on one day and we want to know if he’s going to find good waves. But there’s another conflict he touches on during the stand-up interview during all of this when he says, “surfing saved my life.” We don’t know Dan’s entire story while watching this film, but it’s at this point where he says the sport saved his life that we realize his motivations are much deeper than they appear on the surface.
When he talks about how he used to drink and then quit and started surfing, or how someone can be having a hard time until he takes them surfing, and we realize this is how Dan copes with the challenges he’s faced in life. He also mentions wanted to bring people out surfing with him, so he can share this happiness he’s found. As the film concludes we see Dan happily jumping off this snow-covered pier into these crashing waves and then it transitions to him paddling out into the ice-filled water.
This project is the result of 14 years of observing and documenting a plot of land in Illinois, as it evolved from a family owned farm to a suburban housing sprawl. Scott Strazzante, a photojournalist, met Jean and Harlow Cagwin as they went through the steps to sell their farm. He shot them taking care of their land and animals, and the day they watched their house being torn down. After the land was sold it became a housing development and he met the Grabenhofer family and shot with them as they raised their family in a new home just a few feet away from where the Cagwins cornfields used to grow. Common Ground explores loss, love, family and what home means.
It exemplifies long term storytelling, not just in its emotional power but in its lovely construction. The building blocks of this story are the juxtaposition of images when the land was a farm to when it was a neighborhood, and the lives of the two different families. These shots are all seem to be captured using the natural, soft, light of the environments.
The pacing of these shots throughout this piece is extremely important. You are asking the audience to take in two scenes, from different time periods, and to compare and contrast them. If you don’t leave them on the screen long enough the beautiful nuances that the photographer captured will be lost. This first set of images pretty quickly makes sense. Although the compositions are quite different you get that it is people loving on their animals.
But the second image set you really need to look at and think about. The posture of the hands. The quiet reflective nature of the moment. So these shots are paced out, and on the screen, for a much longer period of time.
Even though the vast majority of the story is told through stillimages, they still managed to get some movement in there. At 01:43 there are about seven seconds of super fast cuts that put the sequence of photos into motion when the dad is teaching his kid how to ride a bike. They use this technique again, but slower and with fewer frames, at 02:37. They also included short clips of video interviews throughout the piece. At 00:43 we see the Cagwins for an interview clip. It is a pretty tight shot but includes both people. The location choice seemed like a pretty smart way of problem solving. The couple is much younger in the farm days pictures, and by the time the interviews were conductedthey clearly no longer lived on that land. So it looks like they did the interview in a garden shed or garage. It was a nice environmental portrait feel and reinstated that these are the farmers, with garden tools in the background. The tightness of the shot helped show the emotion in their face as they talked about the house being torn down.
They used a quick transition slide, at 01:04 with text to explain the jump in time to when the Grabenhofers bought their home. This was a nice smooth transition and the start of the juxtaposition of the images of the two families that leads you through the rest of the story.
The most important piece of video plays through the last minute, starting at 06:22. It cuts between tighter shot on the husband, and a wide shot of them both, while driving through the neighborhood that used to be their farm. The camera motion in these shots all plays into the homey feel of the piece. The handheld look keeps you in the moment, it’s a bit grainy and shaky, which fits the still photo style of the piece. This movement tells the viewer that they are seeing something real, and as it happens. No high production or set up shots, just following the moment. You can see through the windshield what the neighborhood looks like, as they lightheartedly argue about where they are. We end up on a wide shot of the couple standing in the driveway of the Grabenhofers home, which pushes closer as introductions begin. After shooting with both families for 14 years we see Scott bring them together for the first time. Again this shot throws you straight into the moment, as if you are right there with them.
Vox is a news and opinion website owned by Vox Media and was founded in 2014 by journalist Ezra Klein. “We live in a world of too much information and too little context,” explains the news organization. What Vox aims to accomplish is to provide context and insight to stories involving politics, policy, business, pop culture, food science, and “everything else that matters.” The outlet primarily accomplishes this through the use of visual aids, motion graphics, and narration. Vox is well known for their explanatory stories, going into detail and describing complex topics, issues, and processes. In the Vox video titled “NAFTA, explained with a toy car” they use their commonly used motion-graphics methods to explain the North American Free Trade Agreement (NAFTA) and answers the question: Why would the price from the 1993 and 2018 models of the same car be the same while the cost of almost everything else in the country is going up?
0:00-0:17
The video begins some multiple layers of motion graphics, including an animated and texturedwhite background with a subtle “old film” effect. A simple effect of around 3 to 5 looped solid images. Next, we see a 1993 and 2018 Chevy Suburban key-framedinto focus, increasing in scale—alongside a layer of a blue circlebehind the car that the narrator is talking about. The narrator explains that even after inflation, the 1993 model is still about the same amount of the 2018 model, even with modern technologies are equipped like rearview cameras, airbags, and a remote engine start feature. We are left asking why that is and informed on why and how NAFTA does it.
Because this project is a journalistic report on NAFTA, the sources are cited directly on screen when referencing data visually or are referenced orally by the narrator.
0:30-0:42
We are then shown another graphic, an animated line graphwith the prices of cars throughout the years of NAFTA demonstrating how prices have been steady while the price of other items has gone up. The layers and keyframe effects layered here include the lines that reference measurement, the units of measurements, and the title of the graph have an “accordion” effect from the bottom of the screen to the top. The line of data referencing the prices of cars compared to other goods in the US swipefrom the left to the right side of the screen. All that data is then given some kind of a camera blur or transparencyeffect so that a layer that includes the abbreviation NAFTA to swipe upover a solid yellow layershaped like a rectangle. These effects engage the viewer with visual cues on what to focus on and emphasize important facts and details.
0:48-0:56
The following segment actually uses match on actionthrough the use of narration. Three clips of three different Presidents of the United States: Ronald Reagan, George H.W. Bush, and Bill Clinton complete a sentence while giving the viewer the impression that they are all reading off the same sentence, “The nations of North America are ready, strengthen by the explosion of growth and trade to recognize that there is no turning back from the world of today and tomorrow.” Really, the three Presidents are all referencing NAFTA, but are not saying the same thing. Essentially, what this does is create a uniform narrative between US Presidents who are addressing the same issues without referencing all of them individually, saving time and keeping the narrative from straying off or running too long. Also, the video clips are being cited with a credit to the original source on the top left corner of the video.
1:05-1:14
NAFTA is briefly being summarized in this animation and the countries involved are outlined out of a solid layerbeside text over a solid layer, key-framedtogether. The outline of the US is maskedand layeredover footage of President Clinton signing a bill into law as the top layered mask’s transparencyis lowered to show the archived footage of NAFTA being signed.
1:56-2:03
The story here uses a credible and knowledgeable voiceon tariffs and cars. Rebecca Lindland is an Executive analyst with Kelley Blue Book. Her interview, which looks like was recorded during a Skype call is minimized to an appropriate size and layered over some thematic motion graphics to keep the viewer engaged.
2:10-3:00
The video now cuts to a shot of a model 2014 Ford Mustang. We are seeing this model being built from an overhead view. It appears as if the camera was mounted along a horizontal tripod overlooking the top of a table with enough room for a set of hands to build the model car. The narrator builds the toy car by explaining where most of the parts were likely built and assembled on the full-sized model. This POV sequencemakes it feel like the viewer is the one building the model car.
3:12-3:33
The narrative now features an opposing voiceon why NAFTA isn’t entirely a good idea for keeping jobs within the US and North America. We hear clips of voices from President Barack Obama and Senator Bernie Sanders explaining why it isn’t an entirely well-crafted policy. The remainder of the video then implements the same techniques used previously to carry on the narrative through the end, explaining where North America is heading right now with the current USMCA (United States Mexico Canada Agreement), the replacement to NAFTA.
In summary, the reason why stories told by Vox are so inspirational to me is because they almost entirely use a combination of creative stylized shots, motion graphic techniques, and multiple media sources to really engage and educate a viewer. They source information, voices for, and voices against the topic at hand to give a balanced and informed narrative. They take elements from single-use media mundane and create a multimedia masterpiece.
Knives Down, Bikes Up is a short, interview-style documentary, produced by Masses Collective, focusing on the youth in London, and how knife violence has been taking the region by storm and has been a grow problem for the past few years. Teens as young as 16 have been victim to knife violence and influenced by violent acts involving knives. Riders created the movement to create a sense of a new community, that swings the focus away from this violent lifestyle.
The text to begin the video coupled with the black and white shooting choice provides for a theme that could be felt as troublesome, or eerie, or as if being stuck somewhere that can be fearful. Almost as if the character(s) are trying to break out or move past that black and white lifestyle, or the potential for that violent lifestyle, and breaking into a world filled with color, and a more meaningful and fulfilling life that is founded by a small community of youth. It is used to transport the audience to this troubled community that is surrounded by the fear of being threatened with a knife, or worse yet being physically hurt. In this community, kids walking home from school are at risk and exposed to this potential violence.
The quote “I think knives is just an easy way to scare people, you know you’re going to do a damage with a knife, it’s easy to get a knife,” flows well with the black and white theme the producers used for the video and the underlying and eerie tones of the music track used.
Portraits are used throughout the video to give us a glimpse into those affected by this type of violence and humanizing the issue more for us by placing the faces right in the middle of the camera, in an attempt to put us, the audience, face to face with these kids. Furthermore, the producers use zoom-in to try and enhance this by bringing us from further out, to up close and personal.
The producers beautifully crafted together a portrait shot of an individual (at 1:18), being circled by another performing a “bikes up” wheelie, providing an artistic way to describe the movement without even having to say anything. The circling around breathes protection, community and youth coming together for one another.
The producers create a powerful sequence at 2:09-1:40, capturing the youth riding together as a community, with voice over quote “If you’re giving kids the opportunity to do what they want as long as it’s positive, then you’re keeping them away from what they could be getting drawn into.”
Slow motion of bicyclists poppin’ wheelies and super close-up shots of bicycle spokes turning seem to mesh well with the music in the background, but the producers keep it humble by not overwhelming us with too much of it.
A technique I really admired was that the producers didn’t use any talking head video footage of the interviewee. There’s one shot of (who I believe is the one speaking) seen below:
(cont.) and this is the only instance where we see him. He does start the video off by giving us a brief account of a particularly frightening experience he had, bringing us with him into the severity of the issue in London. However, it’s brilliant because the character isn’t just one person but rather this community of youth banding together. He doesn’t take over the video and the message. A talking head would have taken away from the beautiful style and character.
The use of zoom-in, the voice flowing with the tones and music, portraits, close-up and slow-motion shots are beautifully crafted together to make a short, but very moving and enjoyable piece to deliver an important message.
The producers took an interview approach to let Mitsuo Nakatani tell his story and explain the intricacies of Mochi making.
Techniques and tools that proved to be key:
Interview
I appreciate how the producers set up interview shot(s) with Nakatani. I personally like the standing shot introduction because it feels more artistic, interesting and natural in my opinion (this is, however, not true in every situation). I think it particularly works for Nakatani because the work requires him to be on his feet constantly. It’s physically demanding and requires constant moving around, standing for long periods of time, tossing Mochi and swinging a mallet repeatedly. Thus, the initial standing shot and standing interview makes sense.
Close-ups
When Nakatani is describing what Mochi is, he teaches us about sticky rice, or “mochigome”. While he is describing it, the filmmakers cut to a scene of a close-up shot of the mochigome itself, with a hand going across it to show the viewers how sticky it really is. We can see the rice stick to the hand because the shot is so close.
A good amount of slow-motion is used in the video, particularly with the tossing of the Mochi and then the subsequent pounding of it. It makes for an interesting shot for the viewer and shows how the process works. By using slow-motion, we can see how the Mochi is manipulated and changed by the mallets and how it works its way towards its final form.
There are some shots of this in real time, which is necessary for part of the narrative. This includes Nakatani telling us that their style of Mochi making is a high-speed process.
Matched-action. At :50 in the video, a man is tossing the mochi into the barrel, and then there’s a great over the shoulder view of the pounders immediately beginning the process by pounding away at it, and it cuts to a close up shot of the mallets and the mochi, matching the action from the shot before. They could have kept the initial scene in there, but by showing us a closer shot of the Mochi gives us a better/more interesting view of the process of Mochi pounding.
Again, at 1:24, there is more matched action with Nakatani putting on his chef hat. There’s a great wide portrait shot of his face. I appreciate this shot as a viewer because it’s an intimate shot. Centered, extremely close, and we can see how serious he is about his work. It makes the audience feel like we’re right there with the producers really getting to know Nakatani. This is proceeded by a side shot of his face, to a close up of the back side, then back to the front of his face, showing him finishing the perfect placement of his hat above his brow. I think this sequence is important because it’s showing how serious he takes his work, and the hat placement is just one element that he takes seriously.
There are some amazing close-up shots of hands as well. Hands grasping the handle of the mallets while Nakatani is explaining that Mochi making is all about timing and trusting the person next to you. The close-up of the hands firmly grasping the mallet brings us into the process and shows us that this is not an easy technique and requires strength and precision.
Action and reaction. The Mochi making process: the shots of the Mochi makers pounding, we can see the expression on their faces as they yell and pound away at the Mochi. At 1:50, Nakatani is describing how it is “like a battle”, and the filmmakers matched that quote with the shot of the faces, showing their determination and vigor, and how it causes them to react in a way that would be similar to swinging a sword or staff in a battle. It’s actually quite beautiful and poetic.
Again, at the 1:59 mark, the shot of the faces, we can see how it is a rigorous activity, and the subsequent reaction is the public showing their appreciation and excitement for it.
Which is a great transition into Nakatani talking about how people react differently to eating the Mochi. It goes from a wide shot of the crowd watching the the process, to close up shots of the Mochi, and faces, and reactions of the people taking bites. Nakatani tells us that he lives to see those faces. The filmmakers decided to couple this quote with close-up, slow-motion shots of the faces the people are making as they bite into the Mochi.
Pacing
“Quick Hands, High Stakes”: The pacing starts off quick in the beginning, to match the title of the video, showing the danger that goes into this sort of work. It makes us think “how do their hands not get smashed?”
The pace slows down with slow motion a few more times, particularly at the 1:45 mark, as mentioned before, when Nakatani is talking about how they use their shouting to coordinate and create a rhythm. The slow pace of the shot brings us into that process as if we’re there next to them experiencing the intensity of the process, but at the same time we can see the sheer determination and concentration that goes into it.
Detail
Again more close-up detail shots of Nakatani dawning his hat, showing his seriousness and that this is what he lives for, to see those happy faces of people eating Mochi. The detail, close up shots of the customers biting into the Mochi, using slow motion to show us the Mochi tearing apart, matching how we saw it it the barrel being pounded to form — to being torn apart by the customers which lead to those detailed shots of happy faces. Then again, more detailed, close up shots of the Mochi makers working together, pounding away with mallets and their hands, and giving us insight into how intense and difficult this work really is.
Filmmaker Maris Curran created “The Master Quilters of Gee’s Bend Alabama,” a quiet and intimate documentary about a group of Alabama women and their traditional craftwork — which has recently been celebrated in the world of fine art.
It’s an interesting piece to study because the techniques portrayed in it seem very attainable. There is no Hollywood-worthy camera movement here, no motion graphics masterpieces, no expensive camera crews or equipment. Most of the shots are quiet, moody, place-based moments of listening and looking that elicit a strong emotional effect on the audience.
The film opens with quiet, almost still-life scenes of quilts and trees, as well as some slow, poetic voiceover in a Southern drawl. It transports you to the scene — to the Deep South on a sultry summer’s day.
The slow introduction also slows time. Quick cuts and fast action wouldn’t communicate the pace of life here, nor the pace of quilting. These women make their art slowly and with precision, and the editing of this piece is clearly a nod to that. In addition to slow cuts, motion within the frame is also very slow. Scenes such as gently swaying trees and quilts, bridges stolidly standing, and a man trotting by on horseback (47 seconds) are all nods to not just the artwork but the lifestyle of the main characters.
We see our first quilting, and human faces, about one minute into the piece. That’s a long time to wait and breaks many of the rules of filmmaking and journalism. There’s no quick hook here or jarring lede. However, in this case I think it works. This is not a character-led story, but a cultural and artistic one.
At the one minute mark, we are introduced to numerous characters. But we do not learn their names nor are we properly introduced. We see only to their faces and their hands. I am of two minds on this — in one respect, I think it captures the community nature of this work. But on the other hand, it adds to the lack of personal recognition (and financial renumeration) that we soon learn is part of this story. We learn their names later, but without the standard fullness and titles that we would usually give to masters of their craft or industry.
There is a beautiful collection of varied shots from about 1:00 to 1:30. It includes the standard repertoire of wide, medium and tight – from faces to landscapes all the way down to the eye of the needle. This is accompanied by voiceover storytelling and gospel singing. The singing continues through much of the piece — much of which I felt to be performative and that, while beautiful, was less engrossing than the short clips of interviews, most conducted while working.
At 2:06 there is a series of beautifully composed shots with a distinct visual language: lines, geometric shapes, and humans taking the time to notice those lines and live in them. I think the filmmaker is showing us the art these women live around, and are able to reproduce through their quilting. It’s subtle, but deep and meaningful shooting. It requires forethought, planning and a kind of journalistic hunger to find the sparks of creative expression in the world and help explain why a small, rural place has this outsized impact on the world of fine art. I think this is the major accomplishment of this piece. Other examples of this work can be found at 10:00, and in the countless visuals of quilts.
There can be downsides to this kind of esoteric, emotional work. There are hints toward newsy, problematic issues at 12:40 and 13:12. But the pace and style of this piece does not allow for the sort of journalistic inquiry I think was called for there. I think that if a film cannot answer the questions raised — or at least attempt to — then those short, mysterious answers that leave the audience with more questions than answers should be left out.
In general, this is a worthwhile look at the kind of filmmaking I’m interested in: Telling intimate stories in an atmospheric, real-world environment. Plenty to learn from here.
This American Life’s (TAL) “Escape” episode, Act 1, is about Mike Phillips, a 27-year-old with spinal muscular atrophy (SMA) that has left him bedridden and unable to speak on his own much of the time.
TAL’s use of the reenactment style with dramatically angled Point of View (POV) shots transports the viewer into seeing and experiencing the world through Mike’s eyes as he lives his life – horizontally. In addition, the documentary maker adds strategic Extreme Close Ups (XCU), Extreme Long Shots (XLS), Rule of Thirds composition, filmmaker problem solving (using a voiceover from Johnny Depp for a protagonist that can’t speak), cinematic shots, Cinéma Vérité, interview and journalistic styles to aid and complement the primary reenactment and POV approach, all meant to take the viewer on journey through Mike’s experiences, emotions, setbacks and achievements as he struggles to gain independence and maintain his relationship with his able-bodied girlfriend.
Ira Glass opens first on camera, and then with narration (in somewhat of a journalistic style minus the corny sing-sing cadence) following natsound as Mike’s quest for freedom to live his life as fully and independently as he can. But his health condition makes him reliant on his mother’s care, which causes tension and conflict with Mike, his mom and Mike’s girlfriend. The unanswered is ‘Will Mike gain his independence?’ There’s also a subplot that takes us through a break-up with his girlfriend and Mike’s desire to reunite. Hence, a second unanswered question, ‘Will Mike get back together with Sara?’ – which coincides with the quest for independence.
The first five shots are an abrupt yet intimate introduction into Mike’s life using POV, Cinéma Vérité, artistic and bold Rule of Thirds composition, ambient sound, hard edits and XCUs to introduce the viewer to the story as the filmmaker tells us to “look at this.”
The first shot at :45 screams POV and sets the stage for the entire piece. We are looking up at a ceiling fan and hearing its monotonous whooshing ambient sound. It’s Mike’s POV lying on his bed. The film shooting and editing techniques made me feel the glacier pace of time that accompanies the boredom and tedium of being bedridden and struggling with a physically debilitating disease. I experienced the seconds ticking away like years.
:45
A hard cut immediately follows to show an XCU of Mike’s his left eye with a reflection of his computer screen on his eyeglass lens. In a not-so-corny journalistic voiceover, Glass narrates how Mike communicates by blinking his eyes and tapping his finger on a device to spell out sentences on a computer screen. A medium shot follows connecting the first two shots like a puzzle, giving the viewer a witness POV, which his further enhanced with Cinéma Vérité/wide shot and then an XCU of Mike’s finger. TAL is deliberately telling the viewer to “look at this” with these filming and editing techniques.
:501:031:051:09
Also, the staccato music used in the above shot, accompanied by the ambient sound of Mike’s finger lightly tapping out his words, convey both the fragility and tedium tied to Mike’s modes of communication and delicate connection to survival.
I found the POVs in this piece are some of the most effective techniques used by TAL in telling Mike’s story so well. I felt nearly physically transported into Mike’s POV by seeing the world at his dramatic angles – like this one showing Mike’s mom coming into his room at 16:22:
16:22
Or this one (below) at 16:37 as Mike’s mom pushes him through a grocery store. This scene is also accompanied by heavy, pounding music to signify a particularly depressing time of Mike’s life when he and his girlfriend broke up – which Johnny Depp narrates/voices over reading from Mike’s emails .
16:37
There’s also a dreamy cinematic POV shot of a stroll through the park as Mike’s girlfriend pushes him. We see what Mike sees – the sky. The filmmakers use pleasant/romantic music to complement the mood and footage filled with natural and pleasing light – conveying a sense of harmony when the relationship was going well. We also see smooth tight, medium and wide shots of the park stroll. The overall feel is gliding and carefree, also depicted by the choice of camera motion, (either a gimbal or dolly) and the feeling expressed is effortless and gliding – much like that of a happy couple enjoying each other’s company.
9:10
In addition, TAL gives the classic interview style a unique twist, while practicing some genius filmmaking problem solving, by employing a surrogate-voice of Johnny Depp. As described earlier, Mike can’t talk most of the time and he communicates typing out words on a laptop suspended above his bed. He does this letter-by-letter using a software program that transmits completed sentences in a robotic voice simulator. He also uses emails and blogs to write about his personal experiences.
As Glass points out, this is “painstakingly slow” and poses a problem for editing and airing the piece. One sentence takes about three minutes to type out. In addition, the artificial voice is also dehumanizing and doesn’t do Mike justice. To solve the problem, Glass asks Mike if he would like a surrogate voice.
At 2:08 Glass syas, “So, if we were to replace your voice with somebody’s, like, what would you want it to be?”
“I totally want either Johnny Depp, or Edward Norton, whoever is available, because either way, they are both badasses,” Mike replies (at 2:24).
2:24
Apparently, Norton wasn’t available.
“Ladies and gentlemen, reading from Mike’s emails, Mr. Johnny Depp,” Glass announces.
Hence, TAL gives Mike a human voice, employs an imaginative spin on the interview approach, problem solves the audio dilemma and empowers him all at the same time with the voice of a fellow bad asses (Depp) – as we quickly realize Mike’s well-earned place in that exclusive ‘bad ass’ club. To me this can be best summed up as nothing short of brilliant on the filmmakers’ behalf. I felt that sense of joy that comes with well-deserved empowerment watching and hearing this problem-solving technique unfold in this part of the episode.
Elsewhere in the piece, TAL uses old home movies and photos as a reenactment technique depicting Mike’s childhood growing up with SMA. Seeing the footage (with time stamp) lends both authenticity and bittersweetness as we watch the little boy release a balloon go into the sky (3:35), while the voiceover describes his loss of physical abilities as the years go by.
3:35
Moreover, the ‘show don’t tell’ images and footage the documentary makers use throughout the piece are dynamic – adding further connection to the protagonist. For example, sometimes Mike uses his eyebrows to signal the words yes and no. Between 19:18 and 19:23 we see an extremely distinctive matched action sequence to show (not tell) this when Mike is outside having a conversation with his girlfriend. The matched action XCU, tight and medium shots show his eyeglass lenses going up and down as propelled by the motion of his eyes moving.
This same sequence also evokes a sense of tenderness as we steal a glimpse into a moment between the couple, concluded with Cinéma Vérité shots, such as the one below at 19:49. This entire sequence is edited so well, I almost felt like an intruder. Like, if I made a noise, Mike and Sara would turn around and wonder what the hell I was doing there. When a piece draws me in so close to the characters that I forget which side of the screen I’m on, it’s hard to forget. You can absolutely feel the closeness between the two. The scene’s striking primary colors also draw the eye in and are naturally appealing.
19:49
In a darker part of Mike’s journey, TAL uses Extreme Long Shots (ELS) engulfed in darkness with a single spot light on Mike as a form of reenactment to reveal Mike’s near-death experiences. The ELS, coupled with the lighting evokes a sense of isolation, stillness, morbidity and death (13:05).
13:05
In another part, TAL speeds up footage and use XCU shots to reenact and create a sense of anxiety, jitteriness and confusion when Mike became too reliant on pain medication. The music in this sequence is also forbidding with heavy base tones to amplify the mood. This starts at about 13:38.
13:3813:4213:47
The interview style is also used throughout the piece with Mike’s mom, girlfriend, brother and former assistant. This aids reenactment with witness POVs in sharing Mike’s story.
Interview with Mike’s mom at 4:28.Interview with Mike’s brother at 5:56.Interview with Mike’s girlfriend at 8:07.Interview with Mike’s former assistant at 13:31.
Overall, I feels TAL’s Escape, Act 1 episode is primarily a form of reenactment style and strong POV, reinforced with a variety of the other styles, filming and editing techniques found within the Visual Language to to tell Mike’s story. As usual, TAL leaves us with the big takeaway on an important message, or lesson learned. This one comes straight from Mike (via Depp voiceover) concluding he “only recently became aware of how tenuous my life is. So, I don’t really have time to waste on fear.” TAL uses a uniquely framed shot showing the tension and conflict in Mike’s relationship with his mother as he contemplates what he hopes his life to be in the future. The framing is a deliberate ‘show, don’t tell’ at 23:28.
23:28
As far as the unanswered questions… Does Mike gain his independence from his mom? Does he get back with Sara? This is a piece well worth watching to find out.
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.
Rosa – These Storms is a short interview-based film about Rosa, a young Mayan woman who has encountered strict familial expectations, grief, and loss on the path to pursuing her once-impossible dreams. The film is produced by Living on One, a social impact production company based in the U.S.
Rosa – These Storms is an example of an interview-style documentary: the cinematic B-roll, non-linear narrative, and spacious pacing drew me into the story and Rosa’s perspective. My favorite videos are when I forget the camera is there and feel fully immersed in another person’s emotions and perspective. Here are eight film-making techniques that drew me into Rosa’s world.
1. Framing and witness point to show separation (1:23)
This medium shot from the inside looking out establishes Rosa’s sense of separation between what she wants and what her family’s expectations are. The inside is very dark while the outside is bright with children running around; the window’s frame represents a very real barrier to Rosa’s dreams. This frame represents her point-of-view at that moment in time via the contrast between light and dark, inside and outside.
2. Medium long shot shows sense of isolation (2:40)
The camera was placed slightly below and behind Rosa to capture her sense of isolation after being kicked out of her family’s home. As she looks out into a vast, cloudy sky, the composition of this shot places her in the bottom left third of the frame to emphasize how she faced the unknown alone.
3. Extreme close-up to capture determination (2:51)
This was the shot that invited me into Rosa’s perspective and revealed her soul. “People told me I could get an abortion,” says Rosa before this shot. Then, the extreme close-up on her eyes, and the camera’s focus on the eye closest to the viewer, indicates her determination to raise this child even without family support. When we see her eyes, Rosa says, “I didn’t want to …”
4. Centered MS with a shallow depth-of-field to hold the viewer in Rosa’s vulnerability (4:51)
This was the shot that broke my heart. Rosa’s head and shoulders are centered in the frame for a medium shot and she is gazing right at the viewer. This composition and the shallow-depth-of-field tells the viewer, “You are here to bear witness to her grief.” The shot holds for seven seconds as tears roll down Rosa’s face; she glances away, then looks back into the camera. Silence stretches for five seconds; this forces the viewer to sit with Rosa’s vulnerability.
5. Medium, low-angle shot of the setting to establish a narrative turn (4:59)
The sound of rain fades in two seconds before the shot changes from Rosa’s direct gaze (see shot above). This is a well-placed J-cut to move the viewer from that intense emotional moment into a new ‘chapter’ in Rosa’s story. In this case, we are shifting time and place, moving back to Rosa writing at a table (which we see in the beginning).
6. Time-lapse to show the passage of time (5:31)
This time-lapse, framed as an extreme long shot, visually indicates time passing. The shot separates Rosa’s normal life at home—eating with her family—and her decision to leave home and pursue her degree in nursing.
7. Tracking shot with an audio fade conveys poignancy (7:56)
Rosa enters her high school graduation; as she walks past the camera, the frame tracks her movements from behind to place the viewer in her perspective at this key moment. Natural audio from the crowd fades out as soft piano music fades in, conveying the poignancy of this moment in Rosa’s life.
8. Warm, soft colors and lighting shows how Rosa’s life has changed (9:17)
This two-shot is a tender image of Rosa examining a patient, showing that she has achieved her goal of becoming a nurse. The striped, colorful curtain creates a natural frame in this shot, and the light pink sheet in the window helps create a soft glow from the natural light flooding in. The lighting and mood create a noticeable contrast from the muted and grey palette earlier in the film, visually indicating how Rosa’s life has become warmer and more vibrant.
Rosa – These Storms is a beautiful, cinematic, and emotional narrative that does what film can do so well – reveal another person’s soul.
I love this interview-based, artistic video short because it uses creative editing techniques, double exposures, and overlays to take me into women’s inner struggles with the question of whether to have children or not. It is especially effective embedded in a larger multimedia story with reporting to give context, photographs to convey emotional truth and additional videos to take the viewer into each woman’s story.
Here are five techniques the producers used to convey each woman’s inner struggle.
1. Double exposure to convey inner reflection (00:02)
The video begins with a close-up shot of a woman’s silhouetted profile “double exposed” with soft, out-of-focus spots of light. The woman is also looking up and the lighting emphasizes her eyes. Taken together, I love how these elements convey a reflective inner dialogue.
2. Creative editing to convey a clash (00:18)
As the video editor, Frohne chose to use this “splicing” editing technique to convey one woman’s struggle with whether she would be able to have a career if she had a child, or if she’d have enough time to nurture a child if she prioritized a career. This decision is really effective in conveying this clash, this jolt between both questions, especially when overlaid on top of the speaker’s silhouette.
3. Overlay to convey a change in visuals (00:46)
Another creative editing technique Frohne uses is a fast, blurred overlay of a scrolling film strip to indicate a change in visuals. The film strip is overlaid on top of a soft, out-of-focus image of a baby, and a j-cut in audio leads the viewer …
4. Seeing faces to connect real people to the voices (00:48)
… to fully see a woman’s face for the first time in this video, about ¾ of the way through. Frohne’s decision to wait to “reveal” each speaker’s face was an effective way to first introduce viewers to each woman’s internal dialogue before showing who each woman is. The first half of the video made me feel as if I was in each speaker’s head; by this point my role is as a witness to each woman’s struggle.
5. Fast cuts to emphasize a big question (00:58-01:00)
“What do I do with this precious life?” asks one woman toward the end of the video. Fast cuts between vibrant visuals punctuate the speaker’s emphasis on this big, philosophical question. The fast cuts also convey a sense of the many answers to this personal question.
What amazes me is how the video can convey complexity and struggle in just over 1 minute. Check out this video, and the larger multimedia piece, for an example of how creatively edited videos, vibrant photographs, and original reporting can take us into another person’s perspective, provide context and explore complexity.
