Revision begins

So I have booked myself off this weekend - I intend to call or speak to no one.
I need my head clear to rewrite the Tidal Barrier - Claire.
I began tonight and have been quite happy with my progress.
I have set a goal to finish the rewrites by the end of October.
Tonight, some great discoveries and re-discoveries.
In the workshop so long ago the actress Helen, pointed out a flaw (or not, depending on the choice) in the story: Natalie reports that Nick is obsessed with her, which leads Claire to find him so she may experience this kind of feeling. But when she is with him he is anything but obsessive. he is actually quite nice. This may be a choice, that he cannot become fixated upon Claire because of who she is.
The other choice, to rewrite the story so that his behaviour is obsessive, but turns out to be hollow and empty. A game. That his life is as empty as Claire's.
I have opted for the latter.

San Sebastian

Well here it is, yet another photo of one of the bays in San Sebastian. Just from this you can imagine this is a great location for a film festival, but I can also vouch for the food which was wonderful, and the drink was which was not only amazing but generous.











As for the films? As you can imagine at a festival with a programme to support 1st time directors and students as well, some of the films were very weak, some very good. I think that having a film here would be certainly be an accomplishment, and I would like to see if they might have an interest in Tidal Barrier. The only problem I can see is that this festival quite naturally focuses on Spanish-speaking cinema.

More photos:


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David, when he wasn't in the cinema with me, was taking photographs. He is after all, a photographer. And he was taken with the light.



















James, on the other hand, spent most of this time on the phone. He had a girlfriend in New York.
As for the script? I have begun the new draft.

September update

While I have been busy with the short film I have managed to continue the feature.
Today at work, having little else to do, I began the next draft of Tidal Barrier - Claire.
On a more practical note I am in the middle of buying one of these:















This is a used Aaton LTR54 with a set of primes. Buying one of these has a way of forcing the issue. I will have to make that feature now.
And on Wednesday I am off to San Sebastian, Spain, for the film festival. I am quite excited as Mark Peploe, who wrote The Passenger with Antonioni, is on the jury. With accreditation and a lot of schmoozing perhaps I will get to meet him.
The festival has a remit to highlight first time directors so I will be looking to see if they might one day be interested in Tidal Barrier.
I will try to send some photos in the coming week.

Quick update

Just a quick note to explain my silence: I am busy preparing to do some pickups for the short film project, Reconciliation.
I have not neglected thinking about Tidal Barrier. Of late I have been looking at Mizoguchi, who was the master of the one-shot/one scene. More on this in the coming weeks.

Rounding the image

Okay, perhaps I have it now. That is, finding a way to round the images in Tidal Barrier - Claire.
We open with sky, covered in gray cloud (repeated in the final scene). This seen through a window or a skylight. It is raining, or it could rain.
A man speaking to someone. We cannot see him yet.
Then Claire, looking up at this window or skylight (we repeat this image at the end and in the middle of the story).
The man continues. We still cannot seem him, or perhaps we see a fragment of him at the edge of frame. It is all about what she hasn't not done, or hasn't been.
But Claire says nothing. Just looks up.
Finally he can take it no longer. he stands, takes her hand, pulls her arm, demands her attention. This is what he means. This is just it.
And she looks at him for the first time.
He is going to leave now.
Now a window. Water drops working their way down the glass.
In the background, out there, pinned to a fence or hung on a roof, are those fairly lights? It is hard to tell. Out of focus, seen through a rain soaked window, they could be stars.
And then the camera pans across what may be a rooftops and then what is that? A chimney? A wall? Whatever is, it is black. This is a wipe.
In the dark, sounds. We can't know what they are.
And then we are back. That same view across rooftops, across London. At some distance a light flashing, warning (as the light Claire sees on the roadway just before the final scene). And perhaps that is the Thames in the distance.
Then Claire, through this window. The fairy lights reflected on the glass, all over her. She should be looking at this scene but she is not really seeing anything. A glassy-eyed stare.
Black. Titles.

I struggle with this image

I continue to work on notes for the new script.
I feel comfortable with most everything - that is comfortable enough to hold a workshop with actors - but for one element: an image for Claire. One that is personal to her, she takes part in. I mean in contrast to an image of which she has a passive role, the way that Antononi would put his actors in a landscape or in front of a building.
I always look back to Kieslowski, specifically The Double Life of Veronique, where Veronika carries with her a clear marble from which she observes the world, fish-eyed and turned upside down. This idea is repeated when she watches her father at work, seen from behind, through the thick lenses of his spectacles.
Veronika's glass is a habit, part of her. Is this what I am looking for?
In Blue, which I watched again for the 15th time, Julie has her habits too, though not objects. Instead we see that well-known image of her dissolving sugar in her coffee. Kieslowski went to a great deal of trouble finding a sugar cube that would absorb liquid in a given amount of time. And what did he say about it? That for him it was about Julie looking inward. Self-absorbed. And she is, considering what has happened to her. For Kieslowski abstractions are just that, abstracted, taken from the real. Is this what I am looking for? Do I need to sit with the actor and work and find that image?
But I am looking also to use this image to tie together some other images. The final scene, with Claire on the ground of the park, staring up at the sky, looking for an opening, some understanding.
Claire exploring her sister's flat, trying to know it intimately, standing on a ladder, looking over the top of the bookshelves, and there thinking that she can smell the Thames. Water.
So here I am at the beginning of the story trying to say something about Claire and her relationship and all this too. It is too much.

More blackouts

I have been working through Robert Bresson's Notes on the Cinematographer, which has been an inspiration. It just occurred to me that I do not how the notes are organised, but it is logical that they are presented as Bresson discovered them, so as you read you are privy to not only his discovery but the way the discovery came to be.
(And later tonight I will be seeing Mouchette for the first time. )
So I was very excited to come across a section titled Sight and Hearing, considering that I have been thinking on the use of sound in Tidal Barrier/Claire and the concept of blackouts.
First he writes:

If the eye is entirely won, give nothing or almost nothing to the ear. One cannot be at the same all eye and all ear.
And vice versa, if the ear is entirely won, give nothing to the eye.

Now I realise he is certainly could not have been thinking of my idea to use sound over black, but he might at least consider it a worthwhile experiment. Perhaps too self-conscious? Probably. But perhaps if I develop my idea further it might not seem so formal.
Further along:

When a sound can replace an image, cut the image or neutralize it. The ear goes more towards the within, the eye towards the outer.

Now he seems to articulating I only understood vaguely or instinctively. Perhaps that is what I am getting at? That the sound over black is to be used where we are moving within of the Claire. In her story she finds nothing when she looks at herself. It is bare, and that is why she despairs. So the the sound over black is her discovery of how she is wanting. She tries to reach within by pretending something else, pretending to be someone else and fails. The sound over black then must be the accumulation of sounds which have been articulated previously. So they have a logic, but now become something else, are abstracted by their use over black. So I need to establish these sounds earlier. And the black needs also to be articulated earlier in the literal sense. That is I need to show at least briefly black as part of the narrative. So imagine we cut to black. We can make out nothing. The sound of her breathing (we won't know it is her for a time), perhaps the ticking of a clock, and then something else, something odd. A light comes on. It is the bedside lamp. She has been sleeping and has heard this same sound and is now frightened.
But even before that I can imagine using black near the beginning of her story, as she hears, but does not listen to Paul's litany of complaints of her lack of commitment. The camera is fixed up on her, who is distracted (not sure of the image here), and then Paul, who we only see in fragments, at the edge of the frame, has had enough. He gets up and goes off and the camera pans with him and finds itself pointing at black (this is the first time I have thought of moving the camera in a long time, and I think it is good to use camera movement so sparingly). And we only hear the sound of her image - still don't know what that is.
If I build these pieces then I may be free to present the black as part of the climax, the articulation of her realisation. My only problem that I can only see this happening right at the end. Of course this is obvious, the climax would come near the end. The problem that by convention this is the black at the end of the film, where the credits would appear. If this story were first then audience would note the oddness of its placement, but if it were later they might just think this was the end.
Well one problem at a time.

Blackouts

While Reconciliation moves slowly along I have been quite rewriting Tidal Barrier (Claire).
There is a lot to say, so much of it coming from the work on Reconciliation, and I am very excited about where it is going.
More on that soon, but first about the blackouts.
I have found it very exciting how they have worked in Reconciliation. 1 second blackouts between scenes. I cannot describe the effect, except that in the first and second instances they are a bit of a shock, and then one begins to want them, expect them. It would be odd if they stopped. It is all about rhythm.
So now I am thinking of something different. Longer blackouts that are themselves elements of the story. There length would vary, but would be at least be 15 seconds long. For practical purposes the first would need to arrive early in the story so people would not confuse it with the end of the film. Sound? Perhaps that is why they would be there (in Reconciliation it seemed that they must be silent). I can see that they are part of the soundscape, and this is becoming critical to the story. As I remove dialogue sound is freed, can become its own element. The blackouts could support both abstract and real sounds.

A proposal for a formal approach - II

I just managing to keep my two projects together in my head.
From the editing of Reconciliation I have been pushing along of my formal principles: limiting dialogue to the absolute minimum. By dialogue I mean an exchange of words between two characters, and that these words act as a narrative element. In Reconciliation I have a character speaking on the phone, but we only hear his part of the conversation, and the words are not a narrative element.
I have been encouraged how far I was able to take this. The short film now has two lines of dialogue.
Of course it comes down not having a narrative that needs dialogue to support it. In my last draft of Tidal Barrier I had these long dialogue sequences between Sophie and Claire and absolutely hated them. Now I am starting to see what is essential in the these scenes and I am able to comfortably excise the rest. The characters may have words, and some of it may come to dialogue, but the minimum. I have found I am able to reduce three-pages of dialogue to a sequence of shots, and one question. In these sequences I have found freedom.
And more, the end of dialogue has meant that now I am better able to see how sound how can shape the story in a fundamental way.
My last great insight from Reconciliation is about the blackouts. For next time.

A proposal for a formal approach - I

As I work my way through the edit of Reconcilation, coming to see the strengths and weaknesses, and worst of all the missed opportunities, I have begun to think of how I might approach Tidal Barrier/Claire.
I think I have already said so long ago that I have subscribed to Tarkovsky's ideal, to build each shot on the shoulders of the last. This implies that each scene or moment or has its ideal shot/ position/angle and the film making process is the struggle to discover it.
This also implies an abandonment of continuity editing, conventional establishing shot to close-up, to reverse close-up, to two-shot, back to the establishing shot. Instead of moving forward continuity editing moves in a circle. Instead of the pure film making pursuit of finding the shot, and then the next, it serves the demands of staging of a scene, which is something Tarkovsky believes was stolen from the theatre, and has no place in film.
Could I have achieved this in Reconciliation? I have already said that I have failed at points in that film (described below), where I have found myself, I feel, going in a circle instead of going forward. But then in the feedback the other night, JC (my cinematographer) suggested an idea that would solve the problem, or could have if we had the footage. I have spent this Sunday deciding if I shoot a pickup.
So, yes, is the short answer.
The best part of rejecting staging and continuity editing? I can already see a place for it in Tidal Barrier/Claire, at the point when her life goes into reverse. Can you imagine the power of the wide shot, then close-up if you have not seen a close-up for 25 minutes?

What I have learned so far

I am have completed three rough edits of Reconciliation (see my other blog for the latest information) and have become objective enough to see two major weaknesses.
First, a problem that I has come up before: the weakness what has been referred to in Ozu as codas, those static shots, inserted between scenes. Kieslowski did something else. He often used objects, which became extensions of scenes or characters. Think of the glass ball which Veronka plays with in The Double Life of Veronique, or the fabulous cube of sugar in the cafe in Blue. In Reconciliation the results have not been very strong and seems it is down to the fact that I am not able to communication what is required and how critical these shots are. Perhaps one of the problems is that they are called inserts in the film industry here, which makes them an afterthought. I am uncertain how to solve the problem.
Secondly, I have found that I was not as successful as I would have liked in developing the shots in the in Scene 5. Remember, one of the experiments was to develop the story with successive shots, never returning to the same shot, such as the establishing shot as you would in continuity editing. In Scene 5 he is in the kitchen talking on the phone. This is 5A, a medium close-up.












At one point he bumps into some pots and looks off. Then we cut to her in the living room. This is 5B, a medium shot.












We hear him in the background, still on the phone, as she tries to read a magazine without much success. Finally she gives up, goes into the kitchen and retrieves the vacuum cleaner, he still on the phone. I went wider on the last shot. This is 5C.












Looking at these shots now it seems that shots don't succeed each other. There is not enough of a difference between 5A and 5C. It feels we are going backwards. Now this is not a matter of the shots or angles, but rather the script: For him 5C is a continuation of 5A. A weakness of the script.

New film by Tsai Ming-Liang

One of my favourite new directors has a new film out, I Don't Want to Sleep Alone, this Wednesday at the Barbican (http://www.barbican.org.uk/film/event-detail.asp?ID=4349). If you are not familiar with his films, I highly recommend them. My favourites include The Hole, What time is it there? and Goodbye Dragon Inn.
Here is a great example of someone who ignores the conventions of continuity editing. I don't think I have ever seen a close-up in any of his films. The camera remains at a distance, in long-shot or medium-shot, detached, observing.
This is a man not afraid to take the lengthy shot to the extreme. I especially remember the cinematography and sound in Goodbye Dragon Inn - a proper sound system is a must.

Looking again at Part 2 - Claire (-Paul)

So, I am waiting to begin editing my short film, Reconciliation (I am trying to get a deal on a transfer to hard drive and waiting for some parts from the US), and so I am beginning to rewrite the Tidal Barrier project, with the focus on Part 2/Claire. Why? I suppose this part is the most complete and clearest. I have some ideas how to make the other parts work, but Part 2 is close enough. I am hoping that making this part first will give me more confidence for the other parts.
Revisiting the outline, I was struck by a few things.
I still feel that it is missing that one strong, central image. I think it is there, obscured by plot, or psychology.
The weakest scenes were those that were (too) cleverly making connections to the other parts of the script. It would be simpler and stronger to keep to the main thrust of the story.
This also means there are too many location. Making it simpler means it will be cheaper to make.
So what next?
A revision of the script, and then a workshop, as I did with Reconciliation, shot and edited onto DV. More revisions and workshopping, with an aim to shoot the real thing in November.

Forward thinking...

So I have started to formulate a plan to begin shooting the feature in November. Only a year late! From shooting Reconcilation I began to see the weaknesses and the opportunities in the current script: the more I explain, the less compelling the story is. If I remove the explanation, the psychology, I make the story more forward more directly, suggest a shooting style, and make it more practical to shoot on a small budget (fewer locations, fewer actors), etc.
I am thinking that I begin with the second story, that of Claire as she tries to take on her sister's life, and truly change. And fails. I focus more on that empty place she is trying to fill, the transcendental, and less her telling what she is doing. The shooting style is driven by her story, built shot by shot, each leading to the next.

Project update - June

I know that it may look like I have been so preoccupied with the Reconciliation project that I haven't had time to focus on what started it all, the feature film.
I have to say though, shooting this film has helped clarify how I might go about shooting the feature, strategically and creatively.
Strategically, I mean how do you shoot a feature film with a limited budget and few resources? And creatively, I go back to some of the original questions I had, about the shooting style.
The stringent form that I borrowed from Haneke has helped me find a way to an answer. And I have been more attracted to Tarkovsky's solution: this shot leads inevitably to the next, even suggests it. Focus on this shot and the next will reveal itself. There is no concern with convention - I cannot tell you how liberating it is to be free of the establishing shot/medium shot/close-up rules. If the scene is not changed by your choice of shot then you are not being honest.
And tied up into this is more thoughts on Haneke, Tarkovsky and especially Bresson, and the idea of removing psychology. I feel this is the greatest weakness of my story so far.
As for strategy, doing this project has only made me more confident that shooting parts, as if a series of short films is the best strategy. I think though that I will look at them as more self-contained parts than I had prior to the project. More on this and future plans...

Reconciliation blog

I have decided to begin another blog dedicated to the Reconciliation project. I just thought it was confusing discussing on project in a blog about another. I will continue to post to this blog, but focus on the feature, Tidal Barrier, here.
Please follow the Reconcilation project here: http://reconciliationfilm.blogspot.com/

Production update

Another update.
We completed shooting, this past weekend, June 9th/10th. I can't imagine it going more smoothly.
JC and I had spent the Thursday before going over shots.
I found the final crew member, Nichola, makeup, the Thursday before.
We shot 7 of the 8 scenes in one flat. We had an exterior for Scene 8, which we picked up in the courtyard outside the flat. Ed, who provided us with transport, found us a rooftop in Bethnal Green for our second location. Here we shot the last part of the film, 8b, a montage of shots of London seen by the male character from high up in his flat.
The shoot went over two days. This meant we shot 4 scenes, per day, with perhaps 5 set ups per day. This made for a very easy day, but allowed the actors, JC, the DOP, and myself to be comfortable with the performances and satisfied with the framing and angles.
JC asked for one light, but in the end didn't use it. He told me he was quite determined to shoot with all natural light. The stock he chose was Fuji Reala 500D. Plenty fast.
The natural lighting, the fast stock, the stringent shooting style, and the preparation with the actors meant the whole shoot went off without any major problems.
I will post some photos from the production as soon as possible. And update you on the beginnings of post-production.

Reconciliation - Production update

I just wanted to send out a quick word about the Reconciliation project.
We are in pre-production, with the principle shooting taking place June 9th/10th. That is one week from today.
Tomorrow I have another workshop with the actors, Emma and Phil. I have my art director Lara out in the shops gathering the props and costumes we need, and Jun, my DOP is busy thinking of the shots and angles, as they do.
I still have some holes. Makeup, sound, and a second location.
I will try to post again closer to the shooting dates, and then upload some photos of the actual production.

The feedback

Once I finished the edit I was finally able to gain some objectivity.
I began writing notes, where the story was week, where the directing fell down. Still, I knew needed some help deciding if what I was trying to communicate was coming across. I mean the basics. Was it clear he was leaving? Was it too subtle? This has always been my downfall. So I was looking forward to my friends coming over with fear and anticipation.
I called Ana, the designer, David, the photographer and Nic, the DOP. All of them I thought would be honest and have something intelligent to say. I also expected them to tell me the truth. None of them suffer fools.
They had some criticism. Certain things just plainly did not work. The gesture that he makes once he finishes packing was a failure. It looked too much part of the packing. It was not the gesture out of nowhere that I intended it to be.
Some of the shots were clunky (actually I think the worst shots happened just before lunch, and towards the end of the day, as my blood sugar was getting low). Partly this was lack of preparation, but some just failed. I could not solve them. The kitchen scene for example. I was so busy trying to get everything in one shot it became really weak. I realised, without foundation, that I was trying to keep everything in the frame. By accident there were shots wher the characters broke the frame. Some of these shots were the most popular.
A key observation: all wanted the film to be shot in black and white. Why? Colour was a distraction from a film where every detail was critical. Shooting on a small DV camera meant everything was in focus. Clashing colour, and background images which had no meaning were distracting. I took from this that I had to be extra careful in the art direction, and that the costume and props had to be in subdued colours.
But overall I was genuinely amazed at what I had managed to communicate. Not just the basics. Some of the larger ideas that I thought were only obvious to me.

The shooting style - 2

I had written that scenes were conceived with a certain pace in mind. But in shooting during the workshop I found something else I could use: in the scenes the couple shared I created a pace for each of them that was often at odds with each other. For example, in the lunch scene it opens with her fussing about over the food, and he frozen there. When she sees his look, not understanding what it is about, she becomes despondent, and slows. He picks up his pace, begins eating, as if he could banish his thoughts by moving quickly enough.
What else can I say about the shooting style?
For every part of the story there is one shot. There is no establishing shot. Only one point of view in the edit you are not able to choose from this or that. You better get it right. This is where a producer would be pulling his hair out, if I had one. For of course there is no coverage.
One scene does not lead obviously to the next. This is not conventional drama. It is an open text. Why something happens is open to interpretation.
In effect the shots accumulate, add one on top of another. Since there is no establishing shot there is way to go back, so to speak. Only forward. This creates a momentum which would normally have been created by the plot, eg. he shoots his wife, now he is running from the police.
All in all I would say I am very glad I have chosen Haneke's contrivance for this experiment. It has helped clarify my thinking of the shooting style. That is how this whole blog started after all.

The shooting style - 1

I have written some about the shooting style of Reconciliation already, but from the workshop I have had more time to think about it, and refine my understanding of it.
For the workshop I needed to not only have the actors push against what I had written, but test the shooting style (which is essentially Haneke's). In preparation I planned every shot. The day before I went through each scene, planning it out, checking it with the DV camera, and the director's viewfinder. There were practical considerations. I needed to know how much I could get into a shot. Could I shoot that scene in one shot? Would both characters fit into one shot?
I went back and examined Haneke's 71 Fragments. Perhaps this should have been obvious from my early viewings but I did not notice the significance of several things:
There is no establishing shot. Since the story is about fragments this is only right. He might provide numerous shots of a location, the scene in the armoury where the gun is stolen is an example. He shows the thief, inserts of him breaking the locks on the pistols, light coming from a ventilation shaft, from which the thief hears the sounds of someone walking by, the ammunition cabinet, and so on. But he never knits these shots together. He never shows you where this is or that is in a room. All you can know you must take from the eyeline of the actors.
A scene is generally told from one point of view. That is from one character's point of view. Sometimes he swaps points of view, but it is swap. And it never goes back.
This forced me to reconstruct certain scenes in the story. This was awkward, but I find these contrivances force you to be more creative.
Rhythm is created by jumping from one set of characters to another. I have already written about this, and come up with a practical solution: I had written certain fragments with a certain speed in mind. I even thought of writing pace into the script, like a score.
More on this...

The workshop

I have a lot to report, and hopefully can make up for my long silence.
I have been very busy with this small project, the short film Reconciliation.
I have been through numerous drafts, of course. Fine-tuning the script. But three weeks ago I came to a dead-end. I could not go forward without some intense feedback. So I arranged a workshop with Emma Choy and Phil Evans. These two actors helped me back in December, workshopping the Tidal Barrier project.
They spent the day at my flat, working our way through the script. I had decided beforehand that I wanted to conduct this workshop a little differently. Most often I begin workshops discussing with some intensity the script, before getting it on its feet. This goes back to my training at the Drama department, University of Alberta, in Canada. That school was known for the intense preparation of a script by the actors, directors and the rest.
But this time I wanted to do it differently. We spent an hour over breakfast, talking about the script, but quickly we put the story on its feet. We set ourselves up, had a short discussion about what we were doing, and then I shot it on a small DV camera. Then there was my reaction, with the actor feedback, and then we tried to refine what we had done. And I shot it again. We spent the day and worked our way through the whole script. Not by chance the script takes place over one day, and our working day conformed with shooting day. We finished at 5:30 and I had 95% of my shots.
During the week I captured the footage and began to edit towards the end of the week. I made up for missing footage with the some stills I had taken previously for location scouts, especially those shots I had taken from Hampstead Heath. I added a few sound effects and ambient tracks, as it became apparent that the sound was going to be crucial to making this work.
By the next weekend I had finished the cut and was ready for some feedback.
I will write more about all this:
The feedback. The shooting style. And where it goes from here.

April update

Update
Where have a I been?
My regrets that I have not been writing these past few weeks. I just decided that if I had nothing to write that I was better silent.
I have not been idle. I have been busy developing the short film, Reconciliation.
First I have approached an actor to play she. We had our first meeting last week and she already asked me some tough questions, which I was not yet prepared to answer.
The questions revolve around a scene I wrote involving he, in the bedroom, as he packs to leave. His actions (that is packing) are detailed. This begins as one of the everyday scenes, of surface-reality. But then I needed some decisive action from this. In the last draft he fills the suitcase with precision, but then, without pausing empties it again. My actor queried this. Myself, I have never been certain that this was right. I think I was trying to show how his decision to stay was directly connected to his action of parting. Or something like that. It really didn't make an sense.
So I began to think of something else that is happening in the story, in that they are parting, but they are not acting normally. That is they are not acknowledging this event. I put some of this down to pride, but more fundamental is the idea of alienation and disconnection. From what? Nature? Themselves? I am not sure, I only knew there is an imbalance. And that is what I needed to show in this scene in the bedroom. So I thought of the idea of the gesture, a movement, that follows hard on his precise, detailed packing. It comes out of nowhere. An aberration.
(The idea of movement sits comfortably with me: movement was a large part of the work I did in theatre. I was always interested in the emotional values possible with movement)

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:

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.

Sophie's and Paul's world

A week ago I was in Canary Wharf scouting for locations for Sophie and Paul's flat and the surrounding area, in Part 1. These are from the area to the east of Canary Wharf itself, East India Dock.
I tried to capture the sense of the place, but I don't think I was successful.
What is exciting about the place is a particular building, which can feel powerful and muscular, even if it is not of great architectural value. But these are these are the same qualities that make impossible for any localness to take root. There will never be anything here that will be particular to that place. You would not remember living in a place like this.



























I struggled to find compositions that could represent some of these places. It was difficult. Although you may find a building that seems impressive on one level, with scale, and materials, glass, there was so much else in the foreground that was disconnected and of a different scale or material or colour. It really is quite a mess.
I made my way further east towards East India Dock, and a complex of hi-rise buildings I know.
































This is the kind of place I imagine Sophie and Paul in Part 1. Why? What is that attracts me to this place? Does this make sense for Paul, and especially Sophie? It is not typical of London or Europe, more of the kind of place you find in North America.





















There are some practical reasons. I always imagined Sophie living in a high-rise, and the image of her looking down, and out about into the world. She had a view of Canary Wharf, that seemed important. So I began to write scenes that involved a high-rise. But these are post-rationalised so to speak. What attracted me to their area in the first place?
I think for the same reason that it is so difficult to photograph: there doesn't seem to be any place to start. You can't tell when you have arrived or depart. There is no there there, as Jane Jacob put it. So, for Sophie, this is the perfect place for her to begin to think that every possible life we might lead is of equal value. Or even this belief was an outcome from living in such a place?
For Paul it might be that this place is a way-station for their relationship. You unconsciously know that you are uncertain where the relationship will go, so you stop here, and make a plan. They would need to move elsewhere if their relationship was to become an entity, a we. Or they go their separate ways.

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.

A short film

I promised I would describe the new scripts in more detail, and try to explain how they related to the feature.
One script, with the working title of Reconciliation, will borrow the form, without shame, from Haneke's 71 Fragments. Principally these are the short fragments, of one to many, which are followed by a short cut to black, and which constitute a scene, in loose terms. Reconciliation, at present is made of 8 scenes. At present I am uncertain the number of shots per scene, but my aim is to keep these to a minimum, if not 1. I am also thinking of Haneke's Code Unknown, which followed the 1 shot = 1 scene convention, but he allowed for some complex camera movements, such as the elaborate opening sequence in the Paris street, which are out of the question for a budget such as mine.
Besides these conventions, the rule is that there is no cutting on action, in the conventional sense, a minimal of dialogue (two sentences, 1 each), which consequentially means I rely on visual storytelling, and compression and minimalism, so that little will mean more.
I am interested (have always been interested) in structures that allow for cumulative and amplifying affects, to create an impression, as opposed to linear narratives. I was taken, many years ago, on seeing Buchner's Woyceck (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Woyzeck).
What is this story about? As the title indicates, it is about reconciliation, in this case between an estranged couple, on the verge of separating. It is set over 1 day, starting the morning and ending in early evening, in which they never speak, and find that reconciliation comes in the mundane, everyday events, not in grand gesture. In fact I think I am using an anti-grand gesture. And finally, that this anti-grand gesture leads a sense of the transcendent, for him at least. Their reconciliation is not romantic, but is found in an accommodation with the natural world.
I hope this doesn't sound terrible pretentious. I will have to be careful I am honest.

More on Haneke

I watched Haneke's 71 Fragments of a Chronology of Chance again this past Saturday.
I have already mentioned that I was interested in using this form as a contrivance to work with some short film ideas.
What is the form?
There are 71 fragments, or shots (actually I don't know that there is, I didn't count them), and in combination make up scenes. I use the term scenes loosely. They are marked by the use of a black fragment at the end of the scene.
The number of shots per scene varies from one short shot, to one very-long shot (in time, not in terms of the lens), which is 9 minutes long, to scenes which are made of up 13 individual shots.
The scenes revolve around groups of characters who all will cross paths by chance at the end of the film, in the bloody ending. The story moves from one set of characters to another.
More about these scenes:

• though there were scenes of up to thirteen shots, most of the scenes involved three shots
• there were sequences with one shot with camera movement, such as a pan or tilt up
• some shots involved a focus-pull
• variety of CU, MS and inserts
• but he never cuts on action (that is he would not cut from a MS of man sitting in chair to a CU of man sitting in chair on the action of sitting. He preserves the fragments). Each individual shot stands by itself

You might say that, except of the cut to black at the end of the scene that Haneke is not doing anything radical, just unusual. True enough. I would say that the cumulative effect of these shots/scenes, the cut to black, the very long single shots, in contrast to the short, multiple shot scenes is a powerful form.
It attracted me for a lot of reasons, but fundamentally, by reducing the elements to a minimum it allows the filmmaker to compress and so say a lot more in a short film than can be said in a film with a conventional structure.

An update and new projects

Just a short note to say that since finishing the first draft of the script I have been busy working on a few short film ideas. Basically, I want to experiment with some of the ideas I have been discussing here before I commit to a feature.
I have to say that I basically don't like short films. Fundamentally, I believe they are another form from features. There are a few things you can learn from them, but much more that you don't, such as building a character and sustaining a story over 90 minutes plus.
But the main problem I have with short films is my own lack of short-film ideas. I really don't think in those terms.
It was seeing Haneke's film 71 Fragments of a Chronology of Chance that changed my outlook. I decided that I could use this form to generate ideas. It is really a contrivance.
I have three short scripts, one of which I feel is ready to shoot. I conceived of it over Christmas, which I spend in Berlin. I went with a friend. We would wander about for most of the morning and afternoon, and then being tired and cold we would retire to our rooms to recover before the evenings. I took advantage of the large bathtub to work. I find, like many before me, that the combination of heat, and water to be conducive to working.
The second script is probably the weakest, though I did make some progress with it over this weekend.
The third needs fleshing out.
The plan is to shoot all three before the summer is done, while developing the feature project further. More on these scripts later.

Update

I have just now finished the revisions of the first draft of the script. I am planning to send it to the Script Factory for a paid reading.
Outside of that I think it time to put aside for a while. I need to regain some objectivity.
I will continue to look for locations and post photos.
And I am planning some other ways I will work on the story in the next month.
More on that later.

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.

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."

More of Scene 50 locations

I awoke early on Sunday to catch the rising sun on Hampstead Heath, but when I looked out the window I found there was a lot fog. I would not be able to get even semi-clear shots of London and I didn't need a lot of excuses to stay in bed.
Still I did manage to catch the sun going down. It was a beautiful day, sunny, but with a little mist and fog leftover from the morning. This was actually better than the clear conditions I had several weeks ago. I imagine Paul waking to see a little mist over London.
But I was really looking for a location for scene 50, where Claire runs after Nick into the park. She has dismissed him, realising that they have been both deluding themselves. But when he is gone she has a relapse. Was this real? She goes after him.
I had early posted some images of a place where two paths cross, but I was not happy with this location. One of the trails ascends quickly. She really needs to be looking down when she looks for him. Why not turn the camera the other way? It seems obvious, but there are a set of trees at the bottom of the crossing so she would really be able to see anything. Not what is required. So Sunday I was looking for another location.
I found another hill on which a trail ascends and there is clear vantage point.














There is no crossing on this hill, but I realised this is for the best: the crossing image has the potential to be read as some sort of symbol (she is at a crossroads, blah blah), something I am desperate to avoid.
So I went up the hill.














There is a the clear line of the path below and the rest of the hill.
I liked the mix of hills, and banks of trees that create a series of background and foreground images.





















To her right were a stand of trees with a flock of black birds nesting at the top. I assumed they were crows.














They created a Hitchcock quality to the scene - inappropriate for my film, but it added to the fun of the afternoon.
From the vantage point in the park she should be able to see him. But he has disappeared.
She wants to accept defeat. Near the path is a tree, and she comes onto the grass and collapses. Surrenders.
She scans the sky for some relief, but there is none. A nothing.














Then the iconic moment.

Schrader and the Transcendental Style

I mentioned earlier that I was working my way through Schrader's book, Transcendental Style in Film (available on ABEbooks or Amazon). It analyses the films styles of Ozu, Bresson and Dreyer and shows how by way of form they create a transcendental style.
I have only just begun working my way through the Ozu section. Here Schrader first unravels the personality of Ozu, and his culture, from the transcendental style.

...the common qualities of transcendental style and take the form of three progressive steps.
1. The everyday: a meticulous representation of the dull, banal commonplaces of everyday living...

This quality strips the action of any expression, and in this way differs from what is known as realism. There is no drama, no melodrama. This quality, this silence, prepares the ground for the transcendental.
Ozu was quite famous for his austere style. As his career progressed he used fewer and fewer conventional film techniques.
He almost always placed the camera at the same height, that which the viewer would see another sitting on the traditional Japanese tatami mat. The actor faced the camera directly. The camera never moved.
I wondered how these everyday events differed in the work of more contemporary artists. Think of Kieslowski in The Double of Veronique. Veronique at home, reading a book, dozing in a chair. In interviews Irene Jacob said how these were not the events one described to a loved one at the end of the day. There is no drama or interest. But it is in precisely these mundane events that are filled with feelings and premonitions. These events completed the character.
I need to read more of Schrader to say if Kieslowski is doing something completely different in his work.
I am also reminded of Haneke, and the different way he uses mundane events in two of his films, 71 Fragments of a Chronology of Chance, and The 7th Continent. I have described these scenes earlier, and I feel confident saying that Haneke is not interested in the transcendental. But what is he doing then?

2. Disparity: an actual or potential disunity between man and his environment which culminates in a decisive action.

For the Zen philosopher, like Ozu the tension comes about when man is not one with nature.
In Ozu these disunities might be may be something as dramatic as a character suddenly breaking out in tears (Setsuko Hara), divorced from psychological realism and cause and effect. But Ozu being Ozu the disunities are generally not so dramatic. It may be an ironic comment, such as the Mother in Tokyo Story saying with irony 'what a treat to sleep on my dead son's bed'. The irony is usually a symptom of this disunity, and creates a tension that in a conventional film must be resolved.
The final step is:

3. Stasis: a frozen view of life which does not resolve the disparity but transcends it.

In Ozu's zen universe man is again one with nature, and may be indicated by his codas, those static shots of everyday objects, such as the equipment in the sake factory in The End of Summer. Or the different shots of the vase in the near the end of Late Spring. It suggests another reality beyond the mundane events described early.
Kieslowski seems to describe the transcendental very differently. For example, when Veronique is awoken from her sleep by the light flashing in her eyes. At first she thinks it is schoolboy trick. A boy across the way is playing with a mirror. But when he goes inside the light returns. This technique is very different from Ozu's codas.
I will talk more of this as I go further into the book.

Progress report

Just a short post to update you on the project. What have I been doing?
I am near completion of the first draft of the script - it would been complete last weekend but for some ideas I wanted to explore. I have added these into the outline and just need to put them in the script.
I am looking forward to taking a break from writing. I am sure you screenwriters understand how preoccupied you become getting close to finishing a draft.
On Sunday I will be up early scouting for locations in Hampstead Heath. I hope to upload a lot more photos in the next few weeks.
I have been reading a great book by Paul Schrader, Transcendental Style in Film, which discusses Ozu, Bresson, and Dryer. Much more on this soon.

Claire, the iconic look and locations

I mentioned some time ago that I had begun to scout locations.
Several weekends ago I was Hamstead Heath. I chose this park because of Parliament Hill, the highest point in London. Here Paul spends the night, and awakes to see London below him.
I did not find the images I wanted so more on that later.
But I was also interested in looking for locations for Claire's story: the final scene of her part, where she pursues Nick into the park.
This requires a location where several paths cross:













I remembered this location from when I lived nearby. It is not ideal, as one path looks up (to Parliament Hill), not down. I will look for another crossing the next time I am back.
I have Claire entering from the right, then turning her back to the camera and looking to the background and left. From this crossing she is able to see in three different directions and Nick is nowhere to be seen (this is the way I set it up in the workshop before Christmas).













Weary, defeated, she wants to surrender.
She turns to the grass (where the camera is set) and comes towards it. She almost collapses.













She scans the night sky, but it is a gray nothing. No relief anywhere (I have some video of this idea I shot in the summer).
Then the iconic look. She looks directly at us/the camera. A drawing I made from the workshop video:













(as you can see there is no danger of me ever getting a job as a storyboard artist)

My script and the 1 page = 1 minute rule

I am close to finishing the 1st. draft of the script and there is something alarming: it looks to be about 60 pages long, which is well short of a conventional feature-length script.
I am sure most of you are aware of the general rule that one page of a script generally equals one minute of screen time. A script must formatting in a certain way, with margins to certain sizes, and the Courier font set at a certain point size (I have a Word template that does all this for me, so I don't know all the numbers offhand). Production companies require this so that they can quite reasonably determine how long the film would be and so much it would cost.
I think if I submit this script to a reading service I can expect them to say either that the script is too short for a feature or that due to the style it is impossible to determine the true length. I think the latter is the truth.
I have been busy this evening timing some of the scenes from the workshop, and even without the insert shots scenes are coming to be one page of script equals two to four minutes of screen time.
I wonder if anyone else has had this problem?

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The workshop and the iconic look

Last weekend I completed the revisions on the outline. It was painless. The workshop made the strengths and weaknesses so clear.
Going over the video record I was struck by how good my actors were (I find it difficult to notice in the middle of the workshop, struggling to keep them in the frame of the camera).
I was especially happy at the effectiveness of the iconic look, the moment of recognition. The actors jumped in and committed to it.
For Sophie: she has come through the dark passage and come into the parking garage. Fear is overcome, and she has broken through. Released. Then the moment of recognition. Of what? It is not about what she has been through. More, about where she is going. The next scene. She has allowed herself to let it be.
For Claire: until now she has never really looked at anyone. She cannot see what is immediately in front of her. But just before this scene, with Nick, she has been able to finally look at someone. She has understood his weakness, thought of someone else, which for her is progress.
She has a relapse. She wants it back, even though it is a lie. She rushes to the park, thinking of calling him back, but he is gone. Nowhere to be seen.
She turns away and goes to the grass, nearly collapsing. She cannot hold herself up any more. She lies on her back scanning the dark, gray sky. But it is a nothing. No break anywhere.
And then the iconic image, the moment of recognition. She realises she will not be allowed this.
(I will have more to say about this scene later: on early Sunday morning I was scouting locations for this scene).
I think Paul' moment is the least clear.
It starts with confusion over it's placements. The moment precedes the scene where he breaks into Sophie's house. He believes that he can somehow know her by seeing the mundane, everyday elements of her life. Perhaps he is right.
In the workshop my question was would it be more logical if it followed the break-in? It all depends. The question then is, what is Paul when he breaks in? Or more importantly what is Paul in the forest?
This is Paul at the trees. It begins with frustration and anger. It is place he can break something without consequences. He takes his revenge, or attempts to. Actually it is not so easy to break large tree branches. More than just frustration, Paul is struggling not to submit to the universe, becomes small. He is not going to drift with it, but swim against it. And he fails, and becomes the animal he was struggling against. This is the moment of recognition. He has become what he has always fought. He is no longer the complete man that Sophie rejected.
Now if the break-in is to follow...what does it mean? Paul is able to go to a place where he is no longer concerned with normally acceptable behaviour (this is not the man Sophie saw give that too perfect presentation on the day his wife left him). Does this ring true?

Kieslowski vs Haneke

I recently purchased the Michael Haneke Trilogy which includes The 7th Continent, Benny's Video, and 71 Fragments Of A Chronology Of Chance. I recommend these films, but only on days when you feel good about yourself (http://www.play.com/DVD/DVD/4-/1120303/The_Michael_Haneke_Trilogy/Product.html). They are difficult.
What struck me about The 7th Continent was Haneke's use of fragments of everyday, mundane events. The husband tying his shoes. The family car being washed. Breakfast being cooked.
Their use here contrasts with 71 Fragments, where the fragments are static, single shots, making up a single scene (he uses this method again Code Unknown), short or long (up to 9 minutes), which describe an emotional note.
In interviews Haneke has said the family in The 7th Continent is living a life of routine because that is all there is. The realisation comes to the wife in a powerful scene as the family car is put through the car wash. She despairs at this life, where life is not lived. She turns to her young daughter for comfort, instead of her husband who can do nothing.
I won't tell you what happens, but only say from this point the story goes in another direction (even though these events are still presented, by Haneke, as everyday - he doesn't falsely dramatise).
In The Double of Veronique Kieslowski uses the everyday/mundane in an altogether different way. Irene Jacob tells how together developed sequences of everyday actions that are full of feelings and premonitions. These moments of solitude can bring moments of completeness. These events are not what is talked about at the dinner table at the end of the day, but they are where life is lived.
I don't believe Haneke used the everyday/mundane this way in 71 Fragments. In this film he fills these type of events with critical moments. A women brushes her teeth. Suddenly she lets out a sob. That is all. The effect is powerful, because that is all we know.

Update

I looked forward to returning from the holidays ready to begin revising the outline. Unfortunately, I picked up a cold in Berlin so my I worked much slower than I would like.
Still, I did manage to begin transcribing some of the improvisations, removed a few scenes, and wrote several new ones (and in Berlin I did come up two short scripts as well).
Part 1 (Sophie): rewrote two scenes which were left-overs from previous versions. They had their place there, but not in this version. The new scenes:
Party. Paul and Sophie. Some simple images: Paul in groups, bored, distracted, looking to Sophie.
Sophie, in groups, engaged, interested. And never looking for Paul.
The way home. Paul, jealous, angry, confused. He can't really get angry because it seems so petty, but he realises that she is drifting away.
Sophie decides to give him a chance to understand. She stops the cab they are traveling in. They are in the middle of nowhere. She wants to get out and walk. She asks Paul to come with her. She just wants to know what may happen. But Paul does not understand, or understands enough that he is not capable of going with her.
These scenes also make what Sophie wants clearer as well.
I also added several of the everyday scenes that the actors conceived in the workshop. Two of them came from Scene 4. This is a dinner scene where Paul and Sophie first broach the issue that is causing Sophie to pull away from Paul: chance versus destiny.
We created two out scenes from Scene 4.
One was to see Paul washing the dishes and pots. This is a man in control. And this night more than ever he needs to control events, even if it is only the pots and pans.
This is mainly a moment of reflection.
The other scene is Sophie preparing for bed: she enters the bedroom and fills a glass with water on both sides of the bed (Paul and Sophie).
There is less reflection here. More a sense of how repeated events carry us through difficult times.
I was interested in both of these scenes in how they are filled by the characters. I thought of them as barometers of where the characters are at that moment, between their interactions.
And I also saw how these are different than the way that Haneke uses events like this in films such as The 7th Continent. More on that in the next blog post.
Part 2 (Claire): Helen (who played Claire in the workshop) pointed out a contradiction: Claire takes up with Nick, her sister Natalie's boyfriend, because she wants to the subject of an obsession. But as written Nick is not obsessed with her. He actually treats her quite well. This was just one part of a lack of consistency and quality at the end of Part 2.
I rewrote several scenes. I think it makes a lot more sense that Nick is obsessed with Claire, like he was Natalie. Nick projects onto Natalie, so he is as dishonest as Claire. And that is what Claire discovers. She actually is able to see another, which for Claire is progress.
We were also able to develop Sophie's character here: the focus in Part 2 is Claire, but we need to understand that Sophie has another thread, another life that she is living, even though we only catch a glimpse of it.
Scene 35 is a cafe meeting between Claire and Sophie. Sophie catches Claire out at her self-deception. She does not mean to be malicious, but she is worried, jealous, and too honest. So Claire leaves her there. But the scene doesn't end. I think it is important that the story is allowed a small tangent (it reminds of the those other stories we catch in Antonioni's The Passesnger). And somehow (we needed to develop this) Sophie cracks. She is in despair and probably came here really needing to speak to Claire. She won't get a chance.
I have much more work to do. The plan is to revise the outline by this coming weekend. And then begin writing the first draft of the script.