Short films by Lynch, Scorsese, Kubrick and others on TCM today.

By chance, I visited the Turner Classic Movies site a few minutes ago and discovered that they're showing short films all day long today and into the night. One day only. As I post this (2pm) they're starting a block of films by George Sidney. Later there are blocks of films by Jacques Tourner, David Lynch, Martin Scorsese, Stanley Kubrick, Roman Polanski, Jane Campion, Alfred Hitchcock, and others, including Chris Marker's La Jetee (no word on if it's the original French language version or the English dub).

The centerpiece program, which is the only block that will repeat, features new short films by Peter Gilbert, Griffin Dunne, Mario Van Peebles, Floria Sigismondi, Mary Sweeney, and E. Elias Merhige.

Needless to say, many of these films are tought to track down on video, so click here for the schedule then set those recorders.

Some notes on consulting (aka "Inside the Brain of Mike Curtis")

I'm putting together a new editing system for myself. This one won't be terribly elaborate -- I'll still be using an Apple, and I'll still be using Final Cut Pro -- but it will be more sophisticated than anything I've had before. Among other things, I want to have the ability to do HD editing because that's the direction that things are going and it doesn't make a lot of sense to me to invest money in an editing system that isn't going to stay relevant for at least four or five years. It's a big expenditure, so I want to do it right. Now, I've read lots about this stuff, but I have no direct experience editing HD video, so this complicates matters.

A few years ago I would have spent weeks poring over article after article searching for solutions... and then I would have rolled the dice. I guess I've learned from a few bad experiences of doing this kind of thing, and I got in touch with an expert. I figure the few hundred bucks I'd spend on consulting fees would save me both money (because I'd be making better-informed decisions) and time (which is at least as valuable as money).

So I contacted Mike "HD for Indies" Curtis.

I've been reading Mike's blog for at least a year and a half, maybe longer. Frankly, because he can get VERY technical in his postings, I don't understand everything he writes about. To me, that made him the man for the job -- he knows a lot about this stuff but, when he needs to, he can explain things like compression schemes and the pros and cons of various breakout boxes to someone like myself.

After a few short emails describing what my needs would be, Mike and I spoke on the phone for about 90 minutes. (It was funny to both of us to actually be in actual - well, phone - conversation after having read the others' respective blogs. Mike sounds about what I thought he'd sound like -- and he talks fast, which I should have suspected.)

I'll be writing more about what equipment Mike suggested, what I selected, and why, so I'm not going to go into details in this post. Mike clearly knows his stuff, and it was exciting to have him work with me to tailor a system to my specific needs. If this helps, imagine Mike devoting a several-pages-long HD for Indies post to the question of what YOU need for YOUR projects. 'Nuff said.

Besides learning a lot and feeling more confident about large purchasing choices than I ever have before, Mike's advice actually saved thousands of dollars. Before talking with him I had drawn up a system that I thought I needed. It turns out I won't need nearly all of the things that I had thought I would.

So, yeah, this is a grade-A endorsement for Mike as a consultant. (Note: Mike didn't ask for, or compensate me for, such an endorsement.)

A parting thought: Someone might argue that hiring a consultant for anything goes against the principles of this blog. In the most literal sense -- yup, I sought help from outside myself -- it does. Guilty as charged.

But I see it another way: One of the keys to DIY, I think, is knowing what you can't do for yourself or what you might not do as well as someone else. DIY efforts are most effective when you can do it better than anyone else. In this case, I recognized that my knowldge of setting up an editing system is pretty much limited to a G5, Final Cut Studio, and some monitors. I have little experience with RAIDs, have no experience with HD breakout boxes, and so on. In this case, I spent an hour or so talking with a bona fide expert so that I can set up a system that is truly tailored to my specific needs as a filmmaker. This, in turn, will let me to do my work without interference and without depending on an outside editing house. That's my definition of self-reliance.

And if that sounds like self-justification, I guess that's ok. I'm not the Pope of "Self-Reliant Film." I'm just a guy that blogs about it.

Amazon Unbox, or: The Price of Immediate Gratification

You've probably heard that Amazon has gone live with it's movie download service -- Amazon Unbox. In the interests of movie-loving consumers everywhere I decided to visit the site for 30 seconds, role-playing as a prospective customer to this new technology, to report my first impressions. Here's how it went:

0-5 seconds: The Unbox page loads.

6-10 seconds: Oh, ok, it's the same old stuff. Hey, there's a list of what other people are buying. What are the tastes of the early adopters? Lots of TV shows, Office Space, The Family Stone, Walk the Line...

11-15 seconds: Wow these seem overpriced to me: The Matrix via Unbox digital download is $9.88, while the DVD from Amazon is... the same price.

16-20 seconds: Oh hey, look: I can get The Matrix on DVD from one of Amazon's Marketplace Sellers, for $1.98. That seems reasonable for a mass-produced piece of Hollywood entertainment that's seven years old. Plus, if I buy this DVD I would have a permanent hard copy that can be played on a DVD player, unlike what the Unbox regulations allow. And it's at that point that I stopped looking.

***

Unbox is clearly aimed at people wanting immediate gratification. I can't WAIT two-to-five days for The Matrix to arrive in the mail -- I need it now! But I think you always pay extra for immediate gratification -- sometimes in cash, sometimes otherwise.

I would, however, consider using Unbox for movies that were otherwise not available on DVD. Something tells me that this might take a while to materialize, but Amazon says its in the works.

One final note: The Unbox page for The Matrix says those with DSL might need about 68 minutes to download. (Cable modem speeds are MUCH faster.) If you have DSL, it will take you longer to download this movie than it would to drive to your local video store. Then again, that would require that you interact with human beings. You make the call.

UPDATE: Beyond the issues outlined above, there are apparently some pretty insidious things buried in the agreement Amazon asks (read: demands) of its customers. Read this fancifully titled post from BoingBoing for more.

Call for Submissions: Journal of Short Film

The Journal of Short Film is looking for submissions for their Winter 2006 edition. The deadline is November 8th. In the email that the JSF sent me about their call for submissions they noted that this issue will be guest edited by Sam Green. It's a funny bit of coincidence, getting this notice, as I just screened a clip from Green's The Weather Underground in the class I taught today.

So: Submit those shorts to the JSF. And see The Weather Underground, if you've not already.

Weekly Reader #1

If it could be said that this site has "features", then this would be a new one. Basically "Weekly Reader" will feature articles I read, or want to read, from the previous week. I probably won't do commentary, but if I do it'll be short. The idea is to cull all the "hey, read this link" sorts of things, which I would have spent a whole blog post on previously, into one post. It'll sort of write itself over the week, saving me time to focus more on original content. I hope that you'll use the comments section to add links to your favorite reads from the week.

Joe Swanberg interview on GreenCine

Andrew Bujalski interview on indieWire

Quinceanera filmmakers interview by David Lowery

Info about Stu Maschwitz's DV Rebel's Guide book.

Informative (and somewhat amusing) letter on how trailers get posted on the Apple site: Indie Features 06

Interesting breakdown of cool sound moment in When a Stranger Calls

Of course, if you're looking to unwind with some even lighter reading, perhaps you should check out this new feature's namesake.

A Long Take on The Lost Art of Film Editing

HD for Indies and DVGuru both linked to Jessica Winter's Boston Globe article on "the Lost Art of Film Editing" today. I don't have an axe to grind with Jessica Winter. I enjoyed her article, and I agree with her lamenting the seemingly lost days of the long take in American cinema. But I think the reasoning that informs the article is a little off. I hope you'll pardon the long take (pun intended) on the article. I freely admit to having made a "slow" movie or two, so I guess you could say I have some investment in the issue. Are movies choppier and choppier these days? Definitely. I think we can all agree on that. And if you don't agree, I'm sure if someone wanted to they could probably prove this by some sort of Bordwellian analysis that compared average cuts per second of films film the 50s and the 00s, respectively. (Sorry, folks. It ain't gonna be me.)

Yet the article's thesis is that faster cutting is the result of:

A) the developments of digital technology B) filmmakers are transitioning from TV.

I think there are other reasons, and I'm not sure the ones above are even necessarily true.

The first part of argument "A" is an argument most of us in film have heard before. It's the "Romance of The Olde Ways" argument.

True, digital technology has unquestionably made the process of making a physical splice undoubtedly faster. But cutting faster (taking less time to construct a movie) does not produce faster cutting (edits per second).

Just because film editing is time consuming, if someone wanted a lot of cuts, they could always do it with film. Eisenstein's Potemkin, the ending of Bonnie and Clyde and Stan Brakhage's Window Water Baby Moving are just three examples of films that feature extended sequences of lightning fast cutting. All were cut on film well before the invention of the personal computer, much less Final Cut Pro.

Just think: If I replace my old fashioned hammer with a pneumatic nail driver, you know what? I'm still pounding nails, and I'm not going to hammer any more or fewer than I need to in order to build what I'm building. I'm not going to redesign the bookcase I'm building because, hey, I can hammer faster. Is there anyone out there that thinks this way?

The other part of argument "A" is also iffy. Winter argues that new technology like DVDs create a world where films are edited more and more by committee, and therefore are forced to be "punched up" with quick editing.

First, I simply don't know how one can quantify that films are made "by committee" more today than they were in the past. Still, even if it is true that more films are made by committee, I fail to see how that accounts for the domination of fast cutting in movies today. Fast cutting in movies can be seen in the imitation-Tarantino shorts that one finds in intro film student classes, on the internet, and elsewhere... yet what committee is behind the fast cutting here? The answer, of course, is that there is no committee. The films were made in complete isolation by filmmakers playing a cinematic version of air guitar.

To me, this suggests that there's something bigger here going on. But first, to argument "B", which amounts to "Blame Television."

This is a seductive argument if, for no other reason, than the fact that television is such a wasteland. And it makes some sense, at least at first: Television is a medium in which the network -- and therefore the director and editor, who almost always answer to the network -- must constantly keep your attention. If they don't keep your attention, you change the channel. So rapid cutting is prescribed (and proscribed) as a solution. Lots of cuts = eyes staying busy = staying on channel. Sounds good so far.

But once directors make the leap from television and music videos to film they're not cutting for television any longer. Surely at some point all but the densest of them (and they do exist, I guess) understand that they needn't continue cutting for an audience with a remote control in their hands. Now their audience has, theoretically at least, chosen to watch their work in darkened theater, or at least at home on a DVD player. Spike Jonze's films don't feature especially fast cutting, and he's from the dreaded MTV school, so to speak. So what gives?

I'm not saying Winter's got things all wrong, but I think there are other issues at work. Here are three. I'm sure there are more.

First, there is the issue of inexperience. Winter bemoans a scene in Little Miss Sunshine that's cut all to hell. I've seen the movie and, though I didn't have the same reaction, I see her point. (If it were me, I'd have probably cited as an example the early kitchen scene in Junebug) Anyway, I think both scenes are a case of first-time feature filmmakers still finding their way through covering a scene. (By the way, I'm in no way saying I'm above this, superior, or anything of the sort. I'm sure I'll continue to save myself through coverage for as long as I'm making films.) You might want to play from the master, but you realize that you've under-directed the actors, or under-written the scene, or whatever. Even if it's choppy, cutting can solve some bigger problems. I say this from personal experience.

A second reason is that when you're making an independent film you shoot fast, you get what you think you need, and then you move on quickly. Sometimes you don't have time to nail the long take, however much you'd like to.You hope it works in the editing room and you do the best you can with what you have.

To me, either of these two reasons (and they're related) could account for the moment that Winter discusses in Little Miss Sunshine. The filmmakers are first timers and, though their budget must have been far greater than anything I've worked with, I'm sure they didn't have all the time in the world to shoot scene take after take so every scene could play in long take. And, beyond Little Miss Sunshine, I think these reasons are compelling arguments for some increase in cutting in recent years. More and more films are made independently on modest budgets and, likewise, more and more films are debut films.

As for cases like Miami Vice (or whatever other movie you want to supply) well, I think there's a simpler issue here: The stories we're being told these days at the movies are getting worse and worse. Indeed, slowing down the cutting of practically any studio movie released this summer would reveal what vacuous and boring spectacles these films really are. It's not that they're "bad"; it's that there's hardly any content at all. (This is just as true of the Tarantino fanboy knock offs, too.) Editing is a way to distract us from this. It has become Spectacle, especially in the films without any special effects to otherwise distract us. And, as Aristotle reminds us in the Poetics, Spectacle is the least interesting, and least essential, element of drama. Considered in this way, faster cutting is a kind of decadence, which David Mamet would argue, ultimately leads to obscenity (see Mamet's "Countercultural Architecture" from On Directing Film or "Decadence" from Writing in Restaurants).

Finally, I don't know if this is a reason for fast cutting, or if it's just a related effect, but it is sad (to me) that even in film schools young filmmakers are rarely exposed to "slow" films, like Carl Dreyer's later works, or Tarkovsky's, or Ozu's. When they are, it's often in film history classes and provided with apologies from their professors. I guess I fall into the "apologies" camp, but I figure it's better than not showing the stuff. I can say, though, that I've shown Ordet to my students, albeit with some preparation (which ultimately boils down to a warning that "This is no Jerry Bruckheimer film"), and at least a handful truly appreciate it. They have come up after class and privately thanked me for showing it, in fact. It is some consolation, I suppose, that some of these students wish to be editors.

Microfilmmaker Magazine

It's been a busy couple of weeks. Between prepping classes, staring at Microsoft Excel for hours on end, scouting baseball stadiums, and being under lockdown on my first day of classes... well, I haven't had a lot of time to do any postings. On top of that, lately I've been wondering about the point of posting stuff that isn't original content. I figure all the blogs I like are read by anyone who's stumbled across this site. For the record, I'm talking about sites like: indieWire, DVGuru, HD for Indies, FresHDV, All These Wonderful Things, Category D, CinemaMinima, Drifting, Indie Features 06... the list goes on.

Still, when I read about something interesting like Microfilmmaker Magazine I want to pass it along. So there you go.

DIY Camera shoulder rest

Here is an Instructable for a DIY camcorder shoulder mount. The author is in Europe (Germany, maybe?), which means some of the tools and lingo in his how-to need some translation. I'm not sure the Home Depot or Lowe's carries the type of gutter holders that this guy is using, and I'm still trying to figure out what "Replacement sponge from a Plastic smoothener" [sic] is. But resourceful readers will figure out a solution in a jiffy, I'm sure.

By the way, the approximate cost was listed as 12 Euros (about $15). Compare with this one.

[Via Make]

Small Gauge Madness: Home Movie Day

August 12 is Home Movie Day. As part of the festivities, small-gauge film-related events will be held in 27 states and 6 countries this year. This is the first I've heard of it, but apparently Home Movie Day is in its fourth year. Here's some information from the website:

Home Movie Day was started in 2002 by a group of film archivists concerned about what would happen to all the home movies shot on film during the 20th century....

The Home Movie Day founders envisioned a worldwide celebration of these amateur films, during which people in cities and towns all over would get to meet local film archivists, find out about the long-term benefits of film versus video and digital media, and—most importantly—get to watch those old family films! Because they are local events, Home Movie Day screenings can focus on family and community histories in a meaningful way. They are also an education and outreach opportunity for local archivists, who can share information about proper storage and care for personal films, and how to make plans for their future.

Great stuff. If you happen to go to one of the events, post a comment and let us know how it went. My ladyfriend and I are hoping to attend the one in Richmond.

On a related note, if you've got a lot of 8mm or Super-8 movies that you need to have transferred to video, check back tomorrow.

Hello, Dolly

Yeah, yeah, even I groaned at the title to this post. But hey, it's no worse than the title of the article I'm linking to, is it? Studio Daily's, ahem, "Roll With It" article covers all the means of moving your camera that were announced at NAB this year. If you can move past the puns (sorry, another one!) you'll find some interesting stuff. From what I can tell by the photos, my favorite is the Scooter Shooter. It's an equipment cart that doubles as a dolly once you've unloaded it. Great for small crew shoots. The $2600 price tag seems a little much, but it's about $2000 less than what a Matthews doorway dolly willl set you back. The concept is a 10, though, and I'm sure enterprising DIYers out there could build this thing for about $200. If you do, let me know and I'll post (or link to) your findings.

In the meantime, if you want to move your camera like Murnau or Resnais, check out the dollies.

[Via DV Guru]

Google Earth Movies

I was screening the rough cut of a friend's documentary the other day and, in this doc, there was a map shot that had the "Ken Burns effect." It seemed somewhat out of place in the movie, so after about 30 seconds of digging I found someone that had figured out how to do what I was going to propose: Capture Google Earth movies to video. And now the link is passed along to you.

No Time to Waste: 48-Hour PSA Project

A while back I wrote about a 48 hour documentary project, now along comes a 48-hour PSA project that is the brainchild of Asian Arts Initiative Executive Director Gayle Isa and Sara Zia Ebrahimi, who shared some thoughts on this site about film co-ops. Because of the meetings, the event is largely Philadelphia-based, but if you're interested in participating you might send them an email (info below) to inquire if you can play along. (They're planning on uploading to BlipTV, after all.)

One of the more interesting aspects of this 48-hour project is that, as far as I can tell, it's non-competitive. While I'm sure the collective nature of the project will push everyone to do their best work (wanting to "top" each other, etc.) the emphasis, in the end, is on the making work and the collective spirit that comes from participation in such a thing. A small change, but a big difference that is entirely appropriate for a project dealing with this subject matter.

No Time to Waste The 48-hour PSA Project Confronting War

This is a call out to local artists, activists, filmmakers, musicians, poets, carpenters, office workers, janitors—anyone! who is frustrated with any of the wars this country is engaged in, at home or abroad, and wants to send a message to the world about it—a digital message. The 48-hour PSA Project will bring together people in the Philadelphia area to create 30-60 second public service announcements against war within a 48-hour period. At the end of the 48 hours the videos will be posted on the Internet and available for viewing by millions of people worldwide. Join us for a digital mobilization where instead of posters and signs our digital media conveys our message!

How it works:

Individuals will group together in "pods" of 4-8 people. Each pod should have at least one person who fits each of these specifications:

    access to a video camera 

    access to editing software such as Final Cut Pro or iMovie and working knowledge of editing.

    We also recommend selecting roles for each person in your group based on your needs (camera operator, script writer, narrator, researcher, etc.) before the 48-hour period begins.

All pods will meet up on Saturday September 9th in the morning for a brief introduction to the project. They will each have 48 hours to come up with a concept, shoot it, edit it, and compress it for web uploading. A public event and screening of all the PSAs will occur on Monday evening, September 11th. The PSAs will also eventually be compiled onto a DVD that will be available for distribution.

How to enter: Please email the "Group Application" form below to psas_against_war@hotmail.com. You will receive a confirmation email as well as more detailed information on the project and the 48-hour weekend.

If you are interested in participating but don't have enough other people to group with, please email the "Request to Join a Group" form below to psas_against_war@hotmail.com. We will put you in contact with others so that you can all participate!

**Group applications are due by Monday September 3rd.**

How much does it cost? $5 per individual, and two days of your time. Money goes toward breakfast Saturday morning, a miniDV tape, and administrative expenses.

When and where? Participants will meet up on Saturday, September 9th at 9:30am at the Asian Arts Initiative, 1315 Cherry Street, 2nd floor. The project ends at 9:30am on September 11th. More details will be given once your group has registered.

Shotgun Mics vs. Hypercardioid Mics

I was shopping online for microphones today -- reading reviews, checking prices, etc. One of the best things I ran across in my research was Ty Ford's helpful website. On it, there are a number of reviews and tutorials. One of the best videos on his site is a comparison of four different mics, which does a nice job of explaining the difference between shotgun and hypercardioid microphones.

The movie takes a little while to load, so be patient. And wear headphones. Without them, the nuances of the differences between microphones will be lost...and nuances are what this is all about.

Click here to watch it.

AIVF: Gone. The Independent: Stayin' Alive

I just received an email from AIVF, which answers some of my earlier questions about the fate of The Independent:

AIVF Closing Operations While Moving Forward with The Independent.

AIVF is closing its operations and will vacate its office space by the end of July. In June, a group of supporters gathered to explore the potential for a turnaround that would include hands-on management of the Independent magazine while also reinventing AIVF as a membership organization. Although the AIVF Board is grateful for these expressions of interest, we are not seeing sufficient capacity and resources in place to move ahead. Instead we are focusing on transitioning the Independent to new management and securing benefits for AIVF members through sister organizations.

In order to keep the Independent as an information resource and voice for the independent community, AIVF has approached potential successor organizations to take over publication—including a combination of print and expanded online resources. The AIVF will be reviewing proposals over the next month and we hope to have a concrete plan for transitioning the Independent in the fall.

Keith Fulton / Brothers of the Head

Keith Fulton -- co-director, with Lou Pepe, of Brothers of the Head -- answers indieWire's questions today. Favorite quote, both because of the Temple shout-out and the philosophy:

I made a bunch of experimental super-8 films in college and then attended an MFA program in film production at Temple University. Temple's program encouraged its students to learn all aspects of film production and did not follow the industry model at all. There was no structure where you played at being "the director," "the writer," or "the producer," an approach which I think is unhealthy. There's enough time to experience the hierarchy of film business later on, and I think the most important education you can have if you want to direct films is to learn every aspect of the process.

Indeed.

On paper Brothers of the Head looks gimmicky ("conjoined twin rock and roll band mockumentary"), but it's smarter than that -- intense, demanding, and weird (as in "Ken Russell weird"). Definitely not your typical summer fare. Go see it.

Tom Schroeppel: SRF Interview

You won't find Tom Schroeppel's face adorning the cover of Film Comment, Filmmaker, MovieMaker or any other film magazines that champion American cinema, yet, in his own way, Schroeppel has exerted a quiet influence on aspiring filmmakers in film schools across the country for the last twenty-five years. How? As the author of The Bare Bones Camera Course for Film and Video, one of the simplest -- and by simplest, I mean best -- textbooks to cover the basics of motion picture production. When you get a copy of Bare Bones in your hands the first thing you realize is that Schroeppel's not kidding with the title. It starts with the brown (think: "paper bag") cover and block lettering. Open the book and you find text in double-spaced 12 point Courier font and simple hand-drawn images. The content is standard film/video textbook stuff, only it's distilled to its most essential, readable essence. It's like the film textbook equivalent of one of those incredible, out-of-nowhere independent films from the late 70s or early 80s. What it lacks in production values it more than makes up for in content and handmade charm. But don't take my word for it -- no less than Nestor Almendros called it "a marvel of clarity and conciseness."

In true "self-reliant" fashion, Schroeppel took the DIY route to publishing and distributing the book. What's unusual, though, are his sales, which are approaching 120,000 copies sold. When you stop to think about the number of student filmmakers that have learned about such basic concepts as "color temperature" or the "rule of thirds" from him, well, that's what I mean when I say quiet influence.

After I decided to use Bare Bones this fall for the production courses I'm teaching at Virginia Tech, I approached Tom about doing an interview. Happily, he agreed, and over the last few days we emailed back and forth about his 89 page/$8.95 wonder, and its sequel, Video Goals: Getting Results with Pictures and Sound.

 

***

How did The Bare Bones Camera Course for Film and Video come about?

In the late 1970s I was pretty busy shooting and editing TV commercials and industrial sales films in Miami. During the same period I was traveling to Ecuador a couple times a year to train camerapersons at a small TV network there. One day as I was drawing on a Little Havana restaurant napkin to explain a setup to a client, I realized that this was the same thing I had explained in Spanish the previous week in Quito. I decided to translate my training notes back into English and print them in a version I could give to clients.

I based the content of The Bare Bones Camera Course on what I was teaching in Ecuador. This is turn was based on what I had learned at the Army Motion Picture Photography School at Fort Monmouth, New Jersey. (I was an Army cameraman and later a Signal Corps officer.) Both environments required quick but thorough knowledge of basic camerawork.

The Army Motion Picture Photography School sounds fascinating. How did you get that assignment? Did you have an interest in motion pictures before you went?

In 1966 I was drafted after I dropped out of graduate school. I wanted to avoid the infantry, so I extended my enlistment from two to three years in order to qualify for motion picture training. For me, it was the most interesting thing the Army had to offer. I came from a family of avid amateur still and movie photographers, so making a living taking pictures was always in the back of my mind.

Is the school still around?

I'm pretty sure the school no longer exists, under that name anyway, although I'm sure the Army is still training photographers and doing a very good job of it. Army education has, in my opinion, two great things going for it: first, they assume you know absolutely nothing about the subject; secondly, they constantly verify that you thoroughly understand and can use what you're being taught. At the mopic school, our training started with silver halide crystals on a piece of film and ended up eight weeks later shooting dual-system sound with a 35mm Mitchell studio camera the size of a Volkswagen. Every day we would have a lecture, shoot assignments based on the lecture, then go back to the classroom and have the previous day's footage (which was processed overnight) critiqued by our teachers, then edit that footage and be critiqued again. I didn't realize it at the time but we were implementing the well-known quality-control cycle of Plan-Do-Check-Act. So, returning to the book, how did you approach writing it?

Over the summer of 1979 I jotted down notes and drew stick figures and eventually put together the first version of the book, typing it on my IBM Selectric typewriter. My industry friends thought it was pretty good, so I had some copies printed and stapled and passed them around.

I started thinking about getting a real publisher to buy my book. To get more input, I placed a classified ad in the American Film Institute Education Newsletter, which went to film teachers; in the ad I offered a free copy of the final published version of my book in exchange for criticism of my rough draft. One hundred teachers asked for copies and 30 of them wrote back and said they wanted to use the book--even in its current stick figure form--as a textbook. I contracted with a local animation house to overdraw my stick figures with better art and had 1000 copies of the book printed, which I started selling to colleges.

Among students of film you're best known for your books, but those books are the result of a long career in film and video. Can you tell me about that work? I worked for many years out of Miami, primarily shooting and editing TV commercials for local, national and Latin American clients, plus a lot of industrials and training films. Later I did more writing and directing. My one foray onto the national stage was when I wrote, directed and shot more than 100 episodes of a syndicated children's magazine show called Kidsworld. What were, for you, the most memorable or creatively satisfying projects? I enjoyed Kidsworld because I was given a lot of independence in the production and I enjoyed working with kids. I made a documentary on my own in Peru called Cuzco...In the Valley of the Incas, which won some awards. The great majority of my work was in TV commercials, sales films and industrial training films. My corporate clients, especially, gave me a lot of creative leeway and most of the time I had fun.

Your website claims you've sold 117,000 copies of Bare Bones. I don't know much about the publishing business, much less self-publishing, but that sounds like a heck of a lot. Can you talk a little bit about self-publishing and self-distributing the book? Who uses it? How did you first market the book?

First of all, the 117,000 number refers to both of my books: The Bare Bones Camera Course and Video Goals. As of today, July 12, 2006, I've sold about 104,000 Bare Bones books and about 14,000 Video Goals. Over the course of the 27 years Bare Bones has been in print, that comes out to an average of 3851 books a year. I sold a lot fewer in the early years and I sell a lot more now. My main customers are colleges; I've sold to more than 400 so far. Lately I've started to sell books to secondary schools, as they get into video instruction and production.

I submitted The Bare Bones Camera Course to every publisher I could find and no one wanted it. It was too short, too simple, not marketable. Then I found a book, How To Get Happily Published, by Judith Appelbaum and Nancy Evans, which I enthusiastically recommend to any would-be author. The second half of this book discusses self-publication. The basic idea is that if you have a niche book, know your market and are willing to invest in book printing, advertising, and order fullfillment, then self-publishing can be a good thing.

The first few years I mailed flyers to the chairpersons of film departments listed in a published guide to colleges that teach film. I reproduced some of the book pages and included favorable quotes from the teachers who were already using The Bare Bones Camera Course. Lately, I haven't advertised at all; with so many copies of my book floating around, word of mouth seems to be working well.

When I picked up Bare Bones for the first time I was impressed with the blurb on the back cover from one of my all-time favorite cinematographers, the late Nestor Almendros. How did that come about?

A good friend and fellow editor in Miami, Julio Roldán, worked with Nestor Almendros in Cuba and was still in touch with him. At Julio's urging, I wrote Mr. Almendros a fan letter and sent him a copy of my book. He wrote me back, praising The Bare Bones Camera Course, and later graciously gave me permission to use his quote, translated into English, on the back of the book.

Your second book, Video Goals: Getting Results with Pictures and Sound seems to overlap some of the same concepts as the first. I like Video Goals, but I am curious why you made it a separate book instead of simply expanding Bare Bones?

Video Goals contains information I used in various talks over the years. I first thought of adding this information to The Bare Bones Camera Course, but teachers said they preferred keeping the first book as simple and basic as possible. So I decided to make a separate book dealing with the overall production process as I experienced it. Since production includes camerawork, I had to provide some information that overlapped with The Bare Bones Camera Course.

One of the most charming aspects of both books are the drawings used to illustrate concepts of framing and cutting. At first, their rudimentary nature was a turn-off, but I then I gradually grew to like them. Aside from obviously keeping down the costs of printing the book, I realized that because they aren't actual photographs of real people and places -- that is, because they don't represent a specific reality -- the drawings allow you to focus on the conceptual points you're making about, say, the rule of thirds. Had you thought about this, or was it just a practical matter?

I wish I was that smart, but I'm not! I originally wanted to hire actors, rent a stage and shoot stills for all my illustrations, but I didn't have the money. So, as I mentioned earlier, I worked with an animator friend to have my original stick figures overdrawn. Since, I've been told by people who design books that drawings are probably the best way to teach principles of photography, because they contain no extraneous details. The other advantage is that, unlike photos, drawings aren't so dated. If I'd used 1979 actors and cameras, I would have had to reshoot all the illustrations several times over the years.

[Click here to see one of Tom's original drawings from 1979.]

As for the text, do you still revise using a typewriter?

My IBM Selectric died some years ago, so I've made the few revisions in the book on my computer, using a Courier font.

Through your books you've played a role in the education of countless filmmakers. Have any of them ever contacted you? From time to time individuals write to thank me for The Bare Bones Camera Course. It's always nice to know that something you've created has helped another person in some way.

Do you have any words of wisdom that you'd like to share with filmmakers -- beginning or advanced -- that might know you through your books and that are reading this? It all comes down to your audience. Know your audience, then make your movie for your audience. Also, don't be afraid to ask for criticism, because it will always help you; even if some idiot says your work is terrible, you will have learned that you're not reaching the idiots out there, which is probably a good thing.

Lowery's Some Analog Lines on SXSWClick!

IndieWire reported this week about the finalists in South by Southwest's SXSWClick! online media festival. I've not had a chance to view all of the entries, but one you definitely don't want to miss is David Lowery's Some Analog Lines. I had enjoyed reading David's philosophical and everyday musings on his blog for a few months before I ever saw this piece, which considers the poetics of film and video, analog and digital. I don't know how non-filmmakers might enjoy it, but it's one of the finest essay films (short or feature) that I've seen in a long, long time.