Friday, April 29, 2016

First Timers


It’s corny to say, but I absolutely get a kick out of new people on film shoots who get to see the fruits of their labor. The reactions are generally…astonishment. My friend and co-worker Linda came out to help on the movie. She claims to be green, but I got the sense she knew some production. I think she sensed the fact that it was just me and my friend Vince, it’s pretty low-rent and po-dunk. Which, quite honestly, I would think the same as well. We shot for two hours and it was wrapped. Then collected a few more shots. And that was that.
I think in the digital world, as you see what you got, I’m not sure the “amazement” factor plays into what people see later. Often times people are floored by what was shot on set, and what they actually see on screen. Especially in this case since I shot really expired negative. It is a look that you can’t replicate. Most people in digital put a “film grain” look to their projects. What this means is they overlay a setting that are samples taken from actual film being shot and transferred. What they can’t re-do is that the film sat in someone’s house and then my fridge for the past 15+ years until we exposed it Saturday. Yes, this is a complete one-off and extremely risky, but there is something to be said about the unique nature of that process. It means it stands alone as true art.
It was fantastic to see how enthused she was when she saw the “rough cut.” Typically this is where most filmmakers run off a cliff. It just lags, doesn’t have music, and if you’re tight on dough, you see the mountain before you. In this case, as it is such a small project, it jazzed me to share it with my actor and crew (yes, singular). She was instantly sold. And I completely understand. It’s hard to explain to people why it’s done this way. The grinding sewing machine noise is enough to make anyone think it’s not a professional workflow. Given Stanley Kubrick shot a lot of his movies with the same camera and re-did dialogue later. This type of filmmaking makes people think it’s archaic and therefore…amateurish. I consistently re-iterate…the camera of it’s time costs more than some cars. And it’s still worth that much. Which goes back to the common thought “things are only worth what value you put to it.” Given a sheet of notebook paper costs a half cent, the minute some celebrity autographs it, it’s worth more.
The other value I put on film is…and this is going WAY back to film school, it’s amazing that people don’t consider the value of the negative more. For instance, the negative I’m using could’ve been on the set of “Cliffhanger.” Or could’ve been used in “Bugsy.” At some point this professional grade product was required for a major motion picture that millions would’ve seen. It took nearly a hundred years to develop this product people are so quick to dispense with. And I feel pity for the people who’ve abandoned it. I am grateful and feel privilege to be able to shoot it. Others should too. But it seems it’s become a running gag with idiots who would rather it disappear. For what reason, other than it validates their subpar imaging. Perhaps to win no matter the cost.
Digital didn’t win the image battle. Can you name a specific company that has taken the reigns or even has the potential of it? No. Because it’s oversaturated by so many new companies attempting to trump one another. It’s alarming how quick the dismissal of prior technology was when it took so long to fine tune (to hear perfection). How sad for the younger generation that will suffer for it.
At any rate, I love showing new people the power of film negative. Especially since I do things so low-no budget. The excitement alone is worth it every time. To keep telling stories with film is an honor. And if people want to keep selling off their piece of what made the movies I continue to love watching, then I’m willing to buy.

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