Pre-production work carries on .
On Saturday JC, Azahara, who is doing the art direction, and I visited our Natalie location in Holloway Road.
JC has come up with a concept for shooting the whole feature. There is an evolution as we move through the film, to the end in Norway. The first segments uses a faster, grainier film, 250D and the Norway sequence uses a much slower 160T. So as the film breaks open we will have gone from a less detailed, noisier look to a much more detailed, higher contrast, richer look in Norway. This evolution is also carried over into the lenses, which start longer, and then go wider in Norway. We are playing with positioning, go from straight on views of locations and rooms, to diagonals. This first part we owe to Ozu I am sure.
So at the location JC had his camera, and Azahara acted as our model. We went and did a photo storyboard of the location. This way JC could check his focal length, and I could see the sequence of shots. Azahara meanwhile got an idea of the location and what we might have to bring there.
Meanwhile Robert, a friend of mine who is acting as production manager, location manager, assistant director and everything else you can think of, is busy with all the thankless bits behind the scenes, like sourcing insurance and hot food.
And there is more. Tonight, if the rain holds off, we are shooting a stock test. This is the scene where Natalie returns to ask Claire to take care of her flat and includes two shots, one to Natalie in the street, and the other with Claire in the doorway. I have already blogged about this previously and so tonight, or rather in a few days when we get the results back from iLab we will see how this stock looks.
And the Natalie location is set for shooting May 10-12th.
More later on pre-production which involves a lot of shopping...
Showing posts with label Ozu. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Ozu. Show all posts
Tuesday, April 29, 2008
Wednesday, February 13, 2008
inserts versus codas
JC has this dislike of inserts and I feel the same. By inserts I think of shots that are there purely for information, as in the actor is looking at their phone. Insert: CU of their phone and we see who is calling. Sometimes you have no choice but when you can...so I managed to get rid of just such an insert.
It was the park scene we shot the previous weekend. Here we see that Claire has made contact with Nick, and enough has transpired between them that we see they are comfortable, even intimate together. The setting, and the weather on this particular shooting day, amplify what Claire has achieved in making this leap to become someone else but starting a relationship with Nick.
But still it is a lie, and it is Sophie's presence, in the form of a series of phone calls to Claire's mobile that gives it away.
After we have established Claire and Nick's relationship and setting I have Claire sneaking away from Nick to check her phone messages.
Then the dastardly insert of Claire's mobile phone: Missed calls: Sophie (7)
But I realised that what was important in this scene was that Claire had broken away from Nick and in effect the whole construct to check her phone. It was the fact of the lie that was important, not the content of the lie.
And in the next scene we find out who it was who called and the substance of her calls.
The insert is unnecessary.
Now what I don't mean by inserts are those abstraction you see in an Ozu film or Kieslowski and so many others. I have read these referred to sometimes as codas which made little sense to me at first. I thought of that word in reference to music, the concluding part of the whole piece of music. But coda can refer to something brings to an end the preceding part, not just a whole. If you thought of Ozu and his static shots in The End of Summer you can see how they end and summarise the preceding scene or scenes.
In a coda there may information but there is something more. Kieslowski creates abstractions as a layer of the story's language. I think of Blue and the scene where Juliette Binoche is having coffee and we cut to a close-up of the sugar cube, held just at the surface of the coffee, absorbing the liquid. What does this mean? It is hardly necessary for information. Do we need to know that the character takes one sugar cube with her coffee? Kieslowski talks about this himself in the DVD extras. He wanted to show how the character was looking inward, in her own world. The lighting, which was high-contrast, and the focus, which was shallow, added to this effect.
And so far this is one of the weaknesses of the Claire part of this project - and I am certain that I have said this in previous posts. I have not developed my codas, or the layer of abstractions sufficiently. So, I need to get on to it.
Next weekend I am planning to work with David to develop just this.
It was the park scene we shot the previous weekend. Here we see that Claire has made contact with Nick, and enough has transpired between them that we see they are comfortable, even intimate together. The setting, and the weather on this particular shooting day, amplify what Claire has achieved in making this leap to become someone else but starting a relationship with Nick.
But still it is a lie, and it is Sophie's presence, in the form of a series of phone calls to Claire's mobile that gives it away.
After we have established Claire and Nick's relationship and setting I have Claire sneaking away from Nick to check her phone messages.
Then the dastardly insert of Claire's mobile phone: Missed calls: Sophie (7)
But I realised that what was important in this scene was that Claire had broken away from Nick and in effect the whole construct to check her phone. It was the fact of the lie that was important, not the content of the lie.
And in the next scene we find out who it was who called and the substance of her calls.
The insert is unnecessary.
Now what I don't mean by inserts are those abstraction you see in an Ozu film or Kieslowski and so many others. I have read these referred to sometimes as codas which made little sense to me at first. I thought of that word in reference to music, the concluding part of the whole piece of music. But coda can refer to something brings to an end the preceding part, not just a whole. If you thought of Ozu and his static shots in The End of Summer you can see how they end and summarise the preceding scene or scenes.
In a coda there may information but there is something more. Kieslowski creates abstractions as a layer of the story's language. I think of Blue and the scene where Juliette Binoche is having coffee and we cut to a close-up of the sugar cube, held just at the surface of the coffee, absorbing the liquid. What does this mean? It is hardly necessary for information. Do we need to know that the character takes one sugar cube with her coffee? Kieslowski talks about this himself in the DVD extras. He wanted to show how the character was looking inward, in her own world. The lighting, which was high-contrast, and the focus, which was shallow, added to this effect.
And so far this is one of the weaknesses of the Claire part of this project - and I am certain that I have said this in previous posts. I have not developed my codas, or the layer of abstractions sufficiently. So, I need to get on to it.
Next weekend I am planning to work with David to develop just this.
Monday, March 19, 2007
Reconciliation and Haneke's form
I have been busy revising of the short scripts, Reconciliation. This is the short in which I am borrowing Haneke's form, from 71 Fragments, of one or more shots or fragments(some short, some long), which are then closed by a cut to black.
I am just realising the limitations of the form for a short. In 71 Fragments, Haneke as a number of character sets that he alternates with. This means that he can easily create texture and rhythm by moving from one set of fragments to another. In each fragment he has another set of characters, a different location, and potentially a different pace.
Because I want to keep the focus sharp I am sticking to one location, which means I feel there is no place to go. I just had a scene in the kitchen - what now? I have already been in the living room, kitchen, bedroom, bathroom, even the the closet!
In a feature this is not a problem.
I know, I know, I suppose I was really asking for it, taking this on.
I have now revised the script three times. Where is it going, despite my problems with pace and texture?
One addition I made, in part to defuse the drama, but also to make the story more focused, was to make it clear near the beginning that this is the day he is planning to move out. It was important that the audience is not left wondering what the events of the day are about, or how they will resolve themselves dramatically (it is clear in the title afterall).
I have already posted previously about how I have explored surface-reality in the story - packing, emptying a closet, vacuuming, doing the dishes. But my worry was that I also presented the couples estrangement in these everyday scenes - waking together (or rather not) in the morning. That these parts are not surface-reality, and may become drama.
I am now less worried about this. I might rationalise these elements as what Schrader calls disparity, the second element in the transcendental style (which leads to decisive action). I am happy with the story and I suppose the irony of the title, and how the reconciliation happens, in the mundane - he takes out the trash. I was most interested in how our lives are truly lived in these kinds of events.
Finally there is Schrader's final element, the transcendent:
I am just realising the limitations of the form for a short. In 71 Fragments, Haneke as a number of character sets that he alternates with. This means that he can easily create texture and rhythm by moving from one set of fragments to another. In each fragment he has another set of characters, a different location, and potentially a different pace.
Because I want to keep the focus sharp I am sticking to one location, which means I feel there is no place to go. I just had a scene in the kitchen - what now? I have already been in the living room, kitchen, bedroom, bathroom, even the the closet!
In a feature this is not a problem.
I know, I know, I suppose I was really asking for it, taking this on.
I have now revised the script three times. Where is it going, despite my problems with pace and texture?
One addition I made, in part to defuse the drama, but also to make the story more focused, was to make it clear near the beginning that this is the day he is planning to move out. It was important that the audience is not left wondering what the events of the day are about, or how they will resolve themselves dramatically (it is clear in the title afterall).
I have already posted previously about how I have explored surface-reality in the story - packing, emptying a closet, vacuuming, doing the dishes. But my worry was that I also presented the couples estrangement in these everyday scenes - waking together (or rather not) in the morning. That these parts are not surface-reality, and may become drama.
I am now less worried about this. I might rationalise these elements as what Schrader calls disparity, the second element in the transcendental style (which leads to decisive action). I am happy with the story and I suppose the irony of the title, and how the reconciliation happens, in the mundane - he takes out the trash. I was most interested in how our lives are truly lived in these kinds of events.
Finally there is Schrader's final element, the transcendent:
3. Stasis: a frozen view of life which does not resolve the disparity but transcends it.From the reconciliation - he, taking out the trash - to the macro view of the world, London at dusk, with lights coming on in flats just like this one.
The final codas of Ozu's films are reaffirmations of nature; they are the final silence and emptiness.This is the first time we have left the flat, and looked at the world beyond the couple and their flat.
Saturday, March 03, 2007
Short film Reconciliation and the transcendent (or not)
I have been getting through Schrader's book, Transcendental Style in Film, and revising my short scripts at the same time.
I have been comparing Schrader's descriptions of Ozu and Bresson, and looking back on Kieslowski and Haneke, and thinking of what I am trying to achieve with Reconciliation.
(There is one important point that Schrader makes regarding Ozu, that did not make an impression on me at the time. He speaks of the 2nd, point, Disparity as "an actual or potential disunity between man and his environment which culminates in a decisive action." But in Ozu's Zen world man is part of the nature. The Japansese have no western duality concept, man versus nature, so that to be alienated from nature is also to be alientated from other people. You can see this in Ozu' s, focus on inter-generational conflict, parent-child.)
The Everyday
Bresson captures surface of reality, in minute detail, treating all equally, without connotation or significance. For this to work he strips away the conventions of cinema, which I will discuss in detail later. This is necessary to allow room for the surface-reality to be seen clearly by us the viewer. Schrader's makes the important point that this is not the idea of cinema-verite, the cinematic truth, but the surface reality.
The surface-reality is achieved, Schrader says, quoting Ayfre, through "a very precise choice of details, objects and acccessories; through gestures charged with an extremely solid reality." (Amedee Ayfre, "The Universe of Robert Bresson"). This reminded me of the interview with Irene Jacob regarding work with Kieslowski on The Double Life of Veronique, and the scenes of Veronique alone, reading, absently looking out of the window of her flat....Jacob tells us these are not the events you recall at the end of the day, but these are where life is lived, and can bring a sense of completeness. I wonder what Ozu would have made of those scenes in The Double of Life of Veronique.
I have already been interested in this idea of the surface reality. Everyday events are central to the story of Reconciliation. Actually, but for one scene, where the male character packs his suitcase, and then angrily empties the contents onto the floor, the everyday is all that happens in Reconciliation. The female character is seen reading the paper, vacuuming, washing the dishes, and he takes out the rubbish, and talks to a friend on the phone.
At the same time I have also contained the couples enstrangement in these everyday events, and their reconciliation. The story opens with the couple waking on this central day, and gulf between them. I don't think I could say these scenes are surface-reality.
Plot
Both Bresson and Ozu viewed plot with disdain, and as their careers progressed, reduced the amount of plot in their stories.
Bresson believed that the plot was only a necessary in how could be used to hang the his style, the transcendental. He set out to ensure that the plot could not be used to manipulate the audience's emotions, by making the outcome obvious from the beginning. In The Trial of Joan of Arc her guards say 'she will die' and 'she will burn'. Even the title of A Man Escaped removes all doubt as to the outcome. The audience members will not sit in the dark wondering if the man will escape?
Perhaps that is why I was attracted to this title, Reconciliation? I begin the story sharply, with the gulf between them, but the audience will know they are to be reconciled. I think there is more: in the short film form I am able to focus on something other than plot, which is a hindrance to a story that must be told in 5 or 10 minutes.
More on Plot, Acting, and Camerawork, later.
I have been comparing Schrader's descriptions of Ozu and Bresson, and looking back on Kieslowski and Haneke, and thinking of what I am trying to achieve with Reconciliation.
(There is one important point that Schrader makes regarding Ozu, that did not make an impression on me at the time. He speaks of the 2nd, point, Disparity as "an actual or potential disunity between man and his environment which culminates in a decisive action." But in Ozu's Zen world man is part of the nature. The Japansese have no western duality concept, man versus nature, so that to be alienated from nature is also to be alientated from other people. You can see this in Ozu' s, focus on inter-generational conflict, parent-child.)
The Everyday
Bresson captures surface of reality, in minute detail, treating all equally, without connotation or significance. For this to work he strips away the conventions of cinema, which I will discuss in detail later. This is necessary to allow room for the surface-reality to be seen clearly by us the viewer. Schrader's makes the important point that this is not the idea of cinema-verite, the cinematic truth, but the surface reality.
The surface-reality is achieved, Schrader says, quoting Ayfre, through "a very precise choice of details, objects and acccessories; through gestures charged with an extremely solid reality." (Amedee Ayfre, "The Universe of Robert Bresson"). This reminded me of the interview with Irene Jacob regarding work with Kieslowski on The Double Life of Veronique, and the scenes of Veronique alone, reading, absently looking out of the window of her flat....Jacob tells us these are not the events you recall at the end of the day, but these are where life is lived, and can bring a sense of completeness. I wonder what Ozu would have made of those scenes in The Double of Life of Veronique.
I have already been interested in this idea of the surface reality. Everyday events are central to the story of Reconciliation. Actually, but for one scene, where the male character packs his suitcase, and then angrily empties the contents onto the floor, the everyday is all that happens in Reconciliation. The female character is seen reading the paper, vacuuming, washing the dishes, and he takes out the rubbish, and talks to a friend on the phone.
At the same time I have also contained the couples enstrangement in these everyday events, and their reconciliation. The story opens with the couple waking on this central day, and gulf between them. I don't think I could say these scenes are surface-reality.
Plot
Both Bresson and Ozu viewed plot with disdain, and as their careers progressed, reduced the amount of plot in their stories.
Bresson believed that the plot was only a necessary in how could be used to hang the his style, the transcendental. He set out to ensure that the plot could not be used to manipulate the audience's emotions, by making the outcome obvious from the beginning. In The Trial of Joan of Arc her guards say 'she will die' and 'she will burn'. Even the title of A Man Escaped removes all doubt as to the outcome. The audience members will not sit in the dark wondering if the man will escape?
Perhaps that is why I was attracted to this title, Reconciliation? I begin the story sharply, with the gulf between them, but the audience will know they are to be reconciled. I think there is more: in the short film form I am able to focus on something other than plot, which is a hindrance to a story that must be told in 5 or 10 minutes.
More on Plot, Acting, and Camerawork, later.
Sunday, February 11, 2007
Schrader and the Transcendental Style - Ozu
I continue to work my way through Schrader's book, Transcendental Style in Film. It is dense, and requires rereading, and retouching of the films he is describing. I have Ozu's Tokyo Story and Late Spring next to my bed, so that I can go over his references.
Some more examples of Schrader's second part, Disparity.
Setsuko's Hora's tears near the end of Tokyo Story . I find this an interesting example, for the final sequence of the film, the ship going upriver.
This would be part three of the form: stasis, "...which does not resolve the disparity but transcends it."
Another example of stasis at the end of Late Spring. Father and daughter have gone away for one last time together, before she is to be married. They discuss the day as they get ready for sleep. After a time, asking him a question and getting no response, she sees he is asleep. Ozu cuts back to the daughter seeing he is asleep. Then we see one of what Schrader's describes as Ozu's codas: the still shot of a vase. (It is not clear from our view of her if she has been looking at the vase from her bed. I suppose because it doesn't matter. We can only assume the vase is in the same room. That is all there is of realism).
Then Ozu returns to the daughter, now half-smiling. Then the vase again, this time a longer sequence. Then the daughter again, now nearly in tears.
And then the vase again.
The vase being stasis accepts seems to accept all these very different emotions and states "...and transform it into an expression of something unified, permanent, transcendent."
Some more examples of Schrader's second part, Disparity.
Setsuko's Hora's tears near the end of Tokyo Story . I find this an interesting example, for the final sequence of the film, the ship going upriver.
The final codas of Ozu's films are reaffirmations of nature; they are the final silence and emptiness.
This would be part three of the form: stasis, "...which does not resolve the disparity but transcends it."
Another example of stasis at the end of Late Spring. Father and daughter have gone away for one last time together, before she is to be married. They discuss the day as they get ready for sleep. After a time, asking him a question and getting no response, she sees he is asleep. Ozu cuts back to the daughter seeing he is asleep. Then we see one of what Schrader's describes as Ozu's codas: the still shot of a vase. (It is not clear from our view of her if she has been looking at the vase from her bed. I suppose because it doesn't matter. We can only assume the vase is in the same room. That is all there is of realism).
Then Ozu returns to the daughter, now half-smiling. Then the vase again, this time a longer sequence. Then the daughter again, now nearly in tears.
And then the vase again.
The vase being stasis accepts seems to accept all these very different emotions and states "...and transform it into an expression of something unified, permanent, transcendent."
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