You probably had to be there, but for many of those of us that were, the "Zellner Brothers Vs. Duplass Brothers" short film screening was one of the highlights of SXSW 07. Here's the video:
New Doc Qualifying Rules: Arguments, Notes, Questions
Over at All These Wonderful Things, AJ Schnack writes in depth on a subject that has long been a source of contention and debate in the documentary community: The Academy's rules for qualifying for the Oscars. Probably the biggest change is "Rule IV.2":
In addition to the Seven-Day Qualifying Exhibition, feature documentaries must complete a Multi-State Theatrical Rollout consisting of fourteen other exhibitions, as defined in Paragraph III.2, of at least three consecutive days each, at least twice daily, in any standard commercial format. These exhibitions must be distributed among ten or more states in the U.S. and must be completed by Thursday, November 15, 2007.
I was surprised when I first read about this rule (in John Sinno's Open Letter to the Academy). Mainly, I wondered how many docs could actually qualify for such a thing; it seemed unrealistic. AJ, though, is in support of the new rule and he makes a very convincing argument in support of the new policy. Pragmatically, he notes that several films qualified this year and, philosophically, he argues that
if you weren't hoping, weren't planning, weren't thinking all along that you'd have a real theatrical [run], then you shouldn't be thinking Oscar.
I found myself surprised to agree with him. My only lingering question on the issue is whether these rules are actually more restrictive than those applied to narrative features. To the best of my understanding -- and I could certainly be wrong on this -- a film like Letters from Iwo Jima really only needs a one-week qualifying run in New York or L.A. to be considered for the Oscars. If this is the case, why hold docs to a different standard? It seems like the best way to maintain integrity in the process is to have narratives and docs follow the same rules.
Aside from this minor point, I only found myself disagreeing with AJ one one other issue -- his support for the 35mm print requirement, which remains for docs short-listed for the Oscar. AJ writes:
Some filmmakers have complained that if your film is shortlisted, you must produce a 35mm film print, a costly process that is starting to seem unnecessary in the midst of the digital revolution. I find this complaint a bit hard to swallow, considering that just 6 years ago you couldn't play a film festival without a print, but Apted says that it's something the Documentary Branch is looking at, and that it's conceivable that in the near future you wouldn't have to have a print if you made the semifinals.
Actually, I think the 35mm print rule is a legitimate complaint.
While it's true that six years ago you couldn't play a festival without a print, it's also true that six years ago the theatrical experience was defined by 35mm film prints. Today, projection on 35mm is still the standard, but it no longer defines the theatrical experience. Digital projection in commercial cinemas has become increasingly commonplace. We are in an era where some viewers can go see a digitally shot, digitally projected "theatrical film" like Zodiac, as I did.
Furthermore, most documentaries these days -- including all five nominated last year -- were shot on some form of video. A 35mm blow up may be an "up-rez", but it is, in all likelihood, a decrease in visual quality of the camera original footage. In all likelihood, the best looking version is the film's videotape color-corrected edit master tape, which is probably on HDCAM SR. Heck, it might be on DVCam.
My point is this: If a film can qualify for the Oscar without ever making a print (by the new rules, it can), and if a 35mm print is a downgrade in quality (as any 35mm blow up is) then why create some flaming hoop for cash-strapped filmmakers and/or distributors to jump through? This would be a minor point, of course, if such prints didn't cost $20,000 or more. That's chump change for a studio; for the smaller outfits that distribute documentaries I would imagine that's a hefty price for what sounds like a few screenings for the Documentary Committee to decide whether or not you'll be nominated.
The supreme irony of all of this angels-on-the-head-of-a-pin debating is that if a movie ends up being nominated, most people will judge the film on DVD screeners at home. This is true of both fiction and documentary features but, either way, what's "theatrical" about that?
Healthy (and ultimately minor) disagrements aside AJ's whole article is great food for thought, at least if you're a documentarian (or advocate of them) or if you follow the Oscars in that Inside Baseball sort of way.
How Lenses Are Made
It's easy to take for granted the tools we use to make movies. If you've never seen how a lens is made and you consider yourself a filmmaker, take 10 minutes out of your day and watch this video.
[via FresHDV]
Ten Commandments from HDforIndies
Mike Curtis posted an amusing and, more importantly, instructive rant over at HDforIndies. The post, entitled "OK Indies, listen up - 10 THINGS NOT TO DO", is a litany of Bad Things that Mike probably encounters once a day in his work as a post-production guru. Eight of the DON'Ts are technology related. Five, in fact, deal in some way with the Panasonic DVX-100. That camera has earned its spot in the Pantheon of Great Indy Film Tools, no doubt, but its framerate settings (60i, 30p, 24p, 24pAdvanced) can cause a lot of problems if you don't fully understand them. The fact that most of these problems happen in post-production only adds to the misery -- if you've shot in multiple formats without understanding their differences and potential incompatibilities, you may have really hurt your project.
If you don't understand this stuff, check out the CallBox DVD or read carefully in the DVXUser forums.
The two non-technology issues have Mike addressing the fact that so many poor independent filmmakers want him to do their tech consulting for free. Though his blog (like many others, including this one) provides information freely, Mike's really in business to sell his expertise and information. Since the "product" Mike sells has no physical properties (i.e., it's not a car or a widget) people seem to think that it should be given freely since it can be asked for freely.
I can relate. Since I teach, it's my obligation -- and it's my pleasure -- to give my information freely to my students. I also try to serve the community (both the film community and my local community) in different ways. But you have to draw the line somewhere in order to do your own work and to pay the bills.
Mike's answer to people needing answers to specific post-production questions is that you can "pray to Google" or hire him. I'm someone who's done both. Here's a post from the past of my own experience in hiring Mike as a consultant.
Head Trauma Re-Mix in Philly
Yo, Philly readers: Here's a screening that would make William Castle's head spin: Lance Weiler's Head Trauma will screen with a live soundtrack, featuring performances by Bardo Pond, members of Espers, Fern Knight and DJ Chief Wreck'em. Some theatrics are being thrown in for good measure and there will also be some interactivity. Bring your cell phone.
Details can be found at I-House (the venue) and on the Head Trauma website. Or check out the flyer here.
I'm not a connoisseur of horror and suspense films, but I enjoyed the film when I caught it on DVD
Killer of Sheep
A couple of weeks ago I mentioned Charles Burnett's Killer of Sheep in my rave of Eagle Pennell's The Whole Shootin' Match. Funny timing: Yesterday, Dave Kehr had an all-too-short article in the NYT about the process of bringing to home video this legendary film that, in Burnett's words, "was never meant to be shown in public." I had known the film was going to be released to DVD at some point -- it's been rumoured for at least a few years (held up, as Kehr notes, by music licensing issues) -- so it's nice to know we won't have to wait much longer.
What I didn't know was that the film is getting a release at the IFC Center starting on Friday. It will also be playing in select cities throughout the summer. If you're anywhere near a screening, this is something you're not going to want to miss.
To learn more about the film, check out the new Killer of Sheep website that Milestone Films has launched. If you're a Burnett fan, make sure you click on the "Buy the DVD" tab -- it reveals some very exciting news.
Costuming Forms and Resources
Wardrobing on my previous films has often amounted to browsing through each actor's closet and, if they're lucky, making a quick stop by the Goodwill. For my new project, though, there are about 20 characters, not to mention 150 extras, all of whom we have to dress for a mid-19th century masquerade ball.
Just kidding.
In all seriousness, we're going to have to do a little costuming for the new project I'm working on. It's nothing elaborate -- just a uniform for a baseball player -- but a even single costume means taking measurements. I found the following forms online, and they've been useful for me. Maybe they'll be useful for you.
The first form listed above comes from The Costumer, a costume rental house.
The second form comes from MIT's OpenCourseWare website, specifically their Fall 2004 course entitled Costume Design for the Theater. I browsed the site for a few minutes. It looks like it could be a great, and free, resource for budding costumers.
Also, while I'm on the subject, MovieMaker Magazine had a pretty good article about low budget costuming last summer.
Finally, if you're serious about looking at the art of the costume designer, it's tough to go wrong with Screencraft: Costume Design
SXSW: The Whole Shootin' Match, indeed
After a hellish 13 hour trip from Austin to Knoxville (don't get me started about the airline industry) I'm in Knoxville scouting locations for a film. Before I get completely absorbed with that work, here are some final notes on my last day or so at SXSW. Tuesday was my panel, Blogging about Film. Alison did a nice job moderating the conversation, and I really enjoyed sharing the microphone with Joel, Agnes, Mark, and Lance. All had very smart things to say, and we had different perspectives on the issues raised by Alison and the audience.
Many of the people in the audience -- a crowd of about 75 -- were bloggers themselves. At least some of them (Anthony Kaufman, Mike Tully, and AJ Schnack, to name just a few) could have just as easily been on the panel.
One of the more interesting discussions that arose concerned the question of whether bloggers are journalists or not. We also addressed some of the ethical issues that can arise when blogging about film, like whether you should review films by your friends.
After the panel, a few of the people mentioned above went to the Iron Works BBQ to continue talking film. I then caught 638 Ways to Kill Castro. I wasn't planning on seeing it, but it was a good way to stay out of the torrential rain. Castro is a fairly typical leftist documentary (e.g., interviews and archival footage, romantic longing for the revolutionary spirit of the 60s, damning evidence of US government's covert activities, etc.). It's all very upsetting, but the film offers little in the way of suggestions about what the audience should do with its anger. Even more troubling is the fact that the film also asks very few questions about Casto's own record on human rights. Of course, the question of whether such abuses make one worthy of assassination are never asked, in part, because the parties that want Castro dead don't care about his human rights abuses -- they simply want to exploit Cuba for their own ends. Still, in a film that takes as its subject the covert use of power and violence, it seems odd to neglect discussing Castro's own abuses in this regard. Despite these misgivings, I was, in the moment, oddly entertained by the film -- a combination of wry commentary and ironic archival footage give it a sense of humor (as well as a sense of the absurd), which is lacking in so many other earnest, liberal documentaries. My questions linger, though.
After the movie, I hung out with James Johnston and Amy McNutt. We talked politics, movies, and sugar substitutes over at a restaurant with some fine vegan deserts. Yum.
Finally, I made it over to Eagle Pennell's The Whole Shootin' Match. With all due respect to Frownland, Hannah Takes the Stairs, Quiet City, and the Zellner / Duplass shorts program, this was my favorite film of the festival. Shot in the late '70s, the film has been credited with inspiring Robert Redford to start the Sundance Institute. The film follows two blue collar Texas guys that can't seem to get their act together. One's single and an inventor, of sorts; the other is a married man who has trouble staying faithful to his spunky wife. It's more than just a very real, funny, sweet, and unsentimental masterpiece -- it ranks alongside Charles Burnett's Killer of Sheep as one of the most vivid pieces of celluloid Americana I've ever seen.
The Whole Shootin' Match was a perfect last film to see, a reminder that the strong currents of do-it-yourself American independent filmmaking that were on display at SXSW flow from tributaries that go way back and have, for many of us, long since been lost or forgotten.
After I walked out of the theater, I ran back to the hotel in the rain, changed into dry clothes, and headed over to the closing night party, thanks to a ride from David Lowery.
I stayed for a while at the party, long enough to offer one more set of congratulations and compliments to the makers of all the films that I had liked, and long enough to talk face to face one more time with friends, many of whom I had met face to face for the first time in Austin.
The last conversation I had was with a very talented new friend in which we discussed collaborating on a project together. Nothing, and I mean nothing, can touch the promise and anticipation of making new work with people you respect. There are things that can't be put into a swag bag, listed in a festival catalog, or even projected on a screen -- and yet these intangibles of festival-going are why we attend in the first place.
As much as I was enjoying the party, it was time to call it a night. As if on cue, the rain had let up. So I walked back to my hotel in the dark with my mind buzzing, not with alcohol, but with something far better -- ideas for a new film.
An Articulate Movement (of Inarticulateness) Articulated?
Following up on Anthony Kaufman's post of a couple days ago, Eugene Hernandez writes about what's in the air in Austin this year -- you can call them DIY, no-budget, or self-reliant filmmakers. This year, with Hannah Takes the Stairs, Quiet City, Frownland, Orphans these films are the toast of the town. I've been traveling for the last 24 hours (in Knoxville to scout locations for a film I'm shooting), but I have more thoughts on this which I'll try to articulate later.
Then again, I feel like I've been articulating thoughts about this stuff for the last year and a half. It's nice to see indieWire discussing it, even if they do refer to these films as "mumblecore." I believe it goes broader and deeper than that limiting name.
Anyway, here's the article.
SXSW: Anthony Kaufman Gets It.
The article: "The SXSW All-Stars: A New Ultra-Indie Movement" Read it here.
SXSW: Days 3 & 4
A quick post from my hotel room where I'm recovering from a migraine, which has probably been induced by typical festival behavior. By typical, I mean: odd eating habits, late hours and, probably most of all, bouncing between the Texas sun and darkened movie theaters, which takes its toll on the eyes. I'm not asking for your pity. Yesterday's screenings of the Duplass/Zellner shorts, Hannah Takes the Stairs and Pretty in the Face were alone worth the trip to Austin. And, even with the headache today, I managed to catch two features today. One was Ronald Bronstein's Frownland; the other was Aaron Katz's Quiet City.
Frownland follows an indescribably inarticulate door-to-door coupon book salesman as the tightly wound spool that is his life begins to unwind. The pressure in the film builds and builds, like a zit that needs to be lanced. If you think this sounds unpleasant, you would be right.
Frownland is clearly designed as an audience endurance test, a kind of cinematic middle-finger. Though not enjoyable in any conventional sense, it's an unusual and original film that succeeds on its own uncompromising terms. Recommended viewing for brave lovers of cult films; others will probably want to skip it.
Quiet City is the yin to Frownland's yang. Both are New York movies, but it would be tough to locate two more different depictions of Gotham. I'm hoping to do an interview with Aaron Katz, so I'll hold off on further comments for now.
I thought that if I gave my eyes a rest I would be able to catch a few films at night, including Ry Russo-Young's Orphans and Dan Brown's short film The Pipe. Alas, it didn't happen. Moviegoing at festivals is catch-as-catch-can and sometimes, well, you don't catch 'em. Hopefully I'll have another chance to see these.
SXSW: Hannah Take the Stairs
Joe Swanberg's Hannah Takes the Stairs had its World Premiere at SXSW last night. There was a lot of anticipation about the movie -- it was billed as one of the must-see films of the festival, and when I arrived at the Paramount Theatre it's clear that people took that buzz seriously. Two different lines -- one for the festival passholders, one for the general public -- stretched around the block. By the time that Matt Dentler, SXSW's Director, was on stage introducing the film, I think every last of the Paramount's 1200 seats was filled.
And the movie? It does not disappoint. It's a wholly successful romantic comedy, and it's Swanberg's most technically accomplished feature.
The plot is admittedly slight: A woman looks for love and satisfaction from three different suitors, two of whom are co-workers. On one level, that's "all." But, as with so much, it's all in the telling.
Last year, I remarked that Swanberg's LOL suggested hints of Renoir, and I'll reiterate that here. Like Renoir, one of Swanberg's primary talents is his ability to fill his films with immensely likable actors, and this film, which is almost completely comprised of other independent filmmakers, has an ensemble that's as warm and generous as any I've seen in a long, long time. Greta Gerwig, in particular, is a knockout.
Most of the time the humor is not "funny ha ha" (to quote the title of a film made by Andrew Bujalski, one Hannah's stars). The "comedy" is really an orientation, an optimism and humility, that one senses in the person behind the camera. But, yes, at times, the movie is (with a nod to Swanberg's last film) laugh out-loud funny.
The film is romantic, too, but not in the conventional sense of that word. It's romantic not because it dramatizes the coming together of two passionate, fated lovers, but because it documents the hard-won moments of real closeness that young lovers can share and then, so quickly, lose.
Reflecting on it this morning, I thought of Dave Hickey's introduction to Air Guitar. Hickey suggests that love songs matter because they play a social function: They help lovers find each other. With all the love songs in the world, you begin to search for your soul mate by finding the person that likes the same love song as you.
Hannah Takes the Stairs isn't plotty enough to be a movie for the masses. Still, it will find its audience -- at lots of festivals and on DVD. Among those audiences, I imagine that more than a few young couples will see this together and, in both liking it, they will learn something about themselves and each other in the process. How many films can you say that about?
SXSW: Big Rig
Doug Pray's Big Rig follows several (maybe 10 or 12) truck drivers back and forth across the America. The film resists giving the audience a single overarching narrative thread and instead chooses to show most of his subjects in discrete vignettes. The approach has mixed success. The downside is simple, but important: Some of the truckers are more interesting subjects than others, so my interest in the movie waxed and waned with each featured trucker. Happily, the last two individuals (an outspoken Native American and a Polish emigree) were among the most interesting so, in the end, the picture did send me out on a high note.
The positive angle to Pray's strategy is that, by meeting so many truckers in the film, the film encourages us to make some generalizations about what might be termed "trucker values."
Those values amount to a mess of contradictions. Many of the truckers are simultaneously patriotic and anti-government; outspoken and, yet, against voting; and they hold traditional "family values", yet they're rarely at home. (Whether being on the road alone is the source or the result of these values is, sadly, left unexplored.)
Let me quickly add that I'm not condemning these contradictions. Quite the contrary: To me, one of Big Rig's strengths is that Pray exposes one subculture's contradictions in a way that is non-judgmental, even warm.
Big Rig has other things going for it (like Pray's gorgeous digital cinematography, which was shot on a Varicam), and against it (it had a couple too many landscape montages), but it has ultimately stayed with me because it features articulate, conservative, blue-collar Americans as its heroes. In this era of the "liberal documentary", it's worth remembering that if cinema is going to play a role in social change, first it must help bridge the divide that "red state vs. blue state" simplifications have created. This kind of respectful, human documentary investigation helps build that bridge.
SXSW: 2
Quick summary of things seen and done at SXSW: Screenings attended: Fish Kill Flea Big Rig "Zellner Vs. Duplass" Shorts Program
I also attended one narrative feature that I walked out of after the first reel, which shall remain nameless.
Of the three named above, all were interesting in their own ways. Fish Kill Flea is a rough-hewn chronicle of a pretty rough-hewn community -- flea market vendors. The filmmakers managed to capture some compelling moments, though I was disappointed that the movie ended soon after the story began to take off. Still, its better to leave me wanting more than less.
Billed as a kind of wrasslin' match of short films, the Duplass and Zellner Brothers movies program was terrific. If you are a film festival programmer, please take note: THIS IS THE WAY TO DO SHORTS PROGRAMMING. By watching a number of shorts by the same filmmaking team(s), you get to see the voices and vision that, in a single short, can seem like a one-off. Instead, here we had two teams of filmmaking brothers show their stuff. I had seen the Duplass movies on DVD and was already a fan. Seeing them on a big screen, and on film (transferred from DV), they carried even more of a punch. Scrabble, in particular, benefitted from the big screen. What had, in previous screenings on my television, seemed like a scene in search of a longer movie now seemed complete: awkward, human, funny, pathetic.
Flotsam/Jetsam and Aftermath on Meadowlark Lane, two of the Zellner Brothers movies, were especially good. Both start off in seemingly conventional fictional directions, then stop on a dime to introduce documentary elements, which radically changes our perception of everything we've seen.
The absurd, live action wrestling match/sing-along finale that ended the screening on an note that was appropriately hilarious and absurd.
A longer review of Big Rig will be posted at some point soon.
I've also made it to a couple of panels, both of which were good: The Future of Non-Profit Film, headed up by Brian Newman of Re:New Media, and Shooting Docs, which featured Doug Pray ("Big Rig") and Mike Mills ("Does Your Soul Have a Cold?"), among others. No time to summarize those, however, as I'm running off to see another movie.
SXSW: Day 1
This is my first time at SXSW, so I spent my first day largely getting my bearings. Upon arriving at my hotel, I headed down to the conference center to get my badge, info, and shwag (more on the shwag in a later post). Upon entering the conference center, I immediately ran into Joe Swanberg and Kevin Bewersdorf, who introduced me to Aaron Katz. It's appropriate that these would be the first faces I'd see -- two of my favorite movies from last year (LOL and Dance Party USA) were made by these guys, and last year this was the fest where they premiered those works. Joe and Aaron have movies here that I'm eagerly anticipating; I'll be giving full reports of Swanberg's Hannah Takes the Stairs (Sunday) and Katz's Quiet City (Monday) after their premieres.
Registration was fairly quick, considering how many people were trying to get badges. Festival organizers, no doubt, understand that this is a person's first impression of the festival. Mine was positive. Fest staff was everywhere -- and all I interacted with were friendly and helpful.
One thing that's immediately clear to anyone who has been here before (or is here for the first time) is that in addition to the movies and panels, there are dozens of parties. (I've got invites to five or six parties a day and, remember folks, these are just the ones to which I've been invited.) I stopped by one late yesterday, and did the requisite mingling. I talked with DP Andy Reed for a while. A year ago, Reed was a utility crew guy on Dance Party USA; this year he's here as the DP of Katz's latest.
I skipped last night's movies. A couple of the Opening Night films have distribution, and I figure a festival is an opportunity to see films I might not have a chance to otherwise. Plus, I wanted to get my bearings by digging through the treasure trove of movies and events that is the festival guide. At first browse, it seems to be a particularly strong year for documentaries.
No human being could possibly cover even half of the films in this festival. If you can't be here -- heck, even if you ARE here -- you should be checking the daily (hourly?) posts by these fine bloggers:
Matt Dentler - Producer of SXSW David Hudson - GreenCine AJ Schnack - Filmmaker, Kurt Cobain: About A Son Mike Curtis - HDforIndies (SXSW panelist) Scott Kirsner - CinemaTech (SXSW panelist) David Lowery - SXSWClick! finalist from 2006 and blogger
IndieWire, of course, will be doing a lot of coverage as well, as will the bloggers that I mentioned in my last post.
Ok. That's all for now. My morning coffee is cold, and I've got a panel to catch.
SXSW
The other panelists are:
An Open Letter to the Academy
John Sinno's open letter to the Academy of Motion Picture Arts and Sciences is worth a read, so I'm posting it below. Sinno was one of the producers of James Longley's Iraq in Fragments, a documentary full of poetry and ambiguity -- uncommon virtues for such a political film. Like the movie, the letter speaks for itself.
John Sinno Typecast Films 3131 Western Ave Suite 514 Seattle, Washington, USA March 2, 2007An open letter to the Academy of Motion Picture Arts and Sciences
I had the great fortune of attending the 79th Academy Awards following my nomination as producer for a film in the Best Documentary Feature category. At the Awards ceremony, most categories featured an introduction that glorified the filmmakers' craft and the role it plays for the film audience and industry. But when comedian Jerry Seinfeld introduced the award for Best Documentary Feature, he began by referring to a documentary that features himself as a subject, then proceeded to poke fun at it by saying it won no awards and made no money. He then revealed his love of documentaries, as they have a very "real" quality, while making a comically sour face. This less-than-flattering beginning was followed by a lengthy digression that had nothing whatsoever to do with documentary films. The clincher, however, came when he wrapped up his introduction by calling all five nominated films "incredibly depressing!"
While I appreciate the role of humor in our lives, Jerry Seinfeld's remarks were made at the expense of thousands of documentary filmmakers and the entire documentary genre. Obviously we make films not for awards or money, although we are glad if we are fortunate enough to receive them. The important thing is to tell stories, whether of people who have been damaged by war, of humankind's reckless attitude toward nature and the environment, or even of the lives and habits of penguins. With his lengthy, dismissive and digressive introduction, Jerry Seinfeld had no time left for any individual description of the five nominated films. And by labeling the documentaries "incredibly depressing," he indirectly told millions of viewers not to bother seeing them because they're nothing but downers. He wasted a wonderful opportunity to excite viewers about the nominated films and about the documentary genre in general.
To have a presenter introduce a category with such disrespect for the nominees and their work is counter to the principles the Academy was founded upon. To be nominated for an Academy Award is one of the highest honors our peers can give us, and to have the films dismissed in such an offhand fashion was deeply insulting. The Academy owes all documentary filmmakers an apology.
Seinfeld's introduction arrived on the heels of an announcement by the Academy that the number of cities where documentary films must screen to qualify for an Academy Award is being increased by 75%. This will make it much more difficult for independent filmmakers' work to qualify for the Best Documentary Feature Award, while giving an advantage to films distributed by large studios. Fewer controversial films will qualify for Academy consideration, and my film Iraq in Fragments would have been disqualified this year. This announcement came as a great disappointment to me and to other documentary filmmakers. I hope the Academy will reconsider its decision.
On a final note, I would like to point out that there was no mention of the Iraq War during the Oscar telecast, though it was on the minds of many in the theatre and of millions of viewers. It is wonderful to see the Academy support the protection of the environment. Unfortunately there is more than just one inconvenient truth in this world. Having mention of the Iraq War avoided altogether was a painful reminder for many of us that our country is living in a state of denial. As filmmakers, it is the greatest professional crime we can commit not to speak out with the truth. We owe it to the public.
I hope what I have said is taken to heart. It comes from my concern for the cinematic art and its crucial role in the times we'e living in.
John Sinno Academy Award Nominee, Iraq In Fragments Co-Founder, Northwest Documentary Association
Review: 24P Digital Post Production with Final Cut Pro and the DVX100
Call Box's 24P Digital Post Production with Final Cut Pro and the DVX100
The video is well-shot on a bare-bones set, which puts the focus on Kadner, who is an engaging teacher. The DVD presentation is professional; it can be watched in one sitting, or chapter-by-chapter, which is useful if there's one topic you particularly want to revisit. I do wish that it was a DVD-Rom, perhaps to include some quicktime files to practice with, but I suppose Kadner assumes we wouldn't be watching if we didn't already have these tools ourselves.
Do note that this DVD focuses almost entirely on circumventing workflow problems using the DVX100 and FCP. This is NOT a "how-to-edit" in Final Cut Pro DVD, nor is it a manual on how to get the most of the DVX100's sophisticated imaging settings. (For an instructional guide on how to use FCP, I recommend Larry Jordan's Final Cur Pro 5 Essential Editing
If you've shot and completed a few projects without any hitches using 24pAdvanced footage, 24P Digital Post Production with Final Cut Pro and the DVX100
More information can be found at Call Box.
A Long Weekend of Short Filmmaking at William & Mary: Pt. 2
Saturday morning at William & Mary began with Troy Davis giving Ashley and me a tour around the William & Mary's Swem Library Media Center. The Director of the Media Center, Troy was my host for the weekend and one of the primary organizers of the Media Center's Long Weekend of Short Filmmaking. The Media Center is several things in one -- an equipment training center, an equipment check-out center, a recording studio for music and podcasts. It's anything and everything that students want and Troy makes himself, and his assistants, available to students to teach them anything from iMovie to Logic Pro.
Troy has been the Director of the Media Center for a year and a half, and it's impressive what he's accomplished. On a technical level, he's helped secure some superb editing facilities (several Mac tower stations with Final Cut, Logic Pro, and the rest of the works, each in its own sound controlled environment). For a guy who describes himself as a "dabbler" when it comes to film, I was impressed with all the smart technology purchases he has been making, not to mention his ability to talk in depth about the subtle differences between various pieces of equipment they own.
Since there are, no doubt, places like this at universities across the country, the biggest accomplishment isn't the equipment and stations he's amassed -- it's the sense of community generates out from this media hub. A lot of that, no doubt, is due to Troy's vision for the Media Center as a place that is accessible and inviting (as opposed to exclusive and intimidating). The Media Center, in fact, is littered with Troy's self-desribed "propaganda" -- humorous, well-designed posters -- that invite students into the space and use the equipment.
After the tour, Troy and I recorded a podcast that covered making and teaching film. He had thought a lot about my work and had some great questions, which is really flattering. (The podcast will be posted at some point on Media Center site. I'll link to it when it's available.)
The podcast led into a "self-reliant filmmaking" workshop that I conducted with some of William & Mary's film students and faculty.
I began by discussing the work I do on this blog, including my reasons for starting it, and how it's transformed my own film practice. I then opened things up for discussion, which led to a wide-ranging conversation that covered everything from what video camera to purchase to some simple strategies for first-time documentarians. Ashley threw in some good advice during the conversation, to boot; I was happy she had joined me.
Our workshop group talked for nearly two hours, so Ashley and I had a quick break for lunch before I ran off to a screening of some of my own short films at the historic Kimball Theatre. The films looked good in this classy venue, I was happy with the turnout, and the questions the audience asked were, again, really good. (I even received some email from audience members after the screening thanking me for sharing my work.) There was a little reception in the theater lobby afterwards, and I enjoyed talking with some of the William & Mary faculty members that had come to the screening. That conversation led to a coffeehouse where Sharon Zuber, who teaches W&M's production courses, and I compared notes about how to teach film production.
We closed out the day by stopping by the premiere of the Cans Film Festival (pun intended), a student-organized screening of films produced at a variety of Virginia universities. (There weren't any entries from Virginia Tech -- maybe next year?) Ashley and I weren't able to stay for long -- I was beat and we had a long drive back in the morning. We did manage to catch one zombie flick before we left.
Before we left on Sunday morning, Troy treated us to breakfast at one of Williamsburg's many pancake houses. Ashley and I had seen a number of pancake houses on our drive in, and I suppose they reflect the fact that Williamsburg is a haven for retirees and a magnet for tourists (motto: "Where History Lives"). The three of us had one last movie-saturated conversation, and Troy told us about his next dream for the Media Center -- restoring an unused auditorium in the William & Mary library and making into a screening facility/microcinema.
As we drove out of town, past a few more pancake houses, I thought about a place like Wiliamsburg. Even with the occasional major production (like Malick's The New World) coming to town, it would still be surprising to see Williamsburg develop into the next Austin. Williamsburg's a town of 12,000 people, and a lot of the people are transient (whether they're tourists, college students, or retirees). That's a tough place to build a film culture. Of course these things don't only apply to Williamsburg. If this sounds like your town, too, well, so be it. It sounds like mine.
The thing is, something is happening in Williamsburg. Things like the Kimball Theatre, and the William & Mary Media Center are part of the puzzle. The "corner pieces" of that puzzle, though, are a dedicated group of people with vision, passion, and resourcefulness. That's the real lifeblood of regional filmmaking and film culture. Some places don't have this, or have enough of it. Luckily, for Williamsburg, it has Troy Davis, Sharon Zuber, Arthur Knight (coordinator of Film Studies at W&M), and a host of student filmmakers. Something tells me that their numbers will only continue to grow.
A Long Weekend of Short Filmmaking at William & Mary: Pt. 1
The College of William & Mary brought me to Williamsburg, Virginia this weekend to participate in a "long weekend of short filmmaking." It's been a busy, and rewarding, weekend. Friday, after arriving to town, I was a judge at 24Speed, William & Mary's variation on those twenty-four hour filmmaking contests that have grown in popularity throughout the country.
In this case, eight teams of six filmmakers each were provided the same line of dialogue (a line from one of last year's videos: "I'm not taking you out, I'm taking you down") and a 1920s yearbook from the college's archives, which they had to use as a prop. After a drawing in which they received two film genres at random each team had to choose one genre in which to work. They then had 24 hours to produce a three-to-five minute video.
By the time of the screening the place was packed. Each of the eight videos had their charms and their share of cleverness. Of course, all of them had their rough spots, too -- what video produced in 24 hours wouldn't? It's funny, though, how those "rough spots" (some out of sync dialogue, say, or let's-roll-with-the-first-and-only-take-performances) become charming in and of themselves when you consider the context of how quickly these things were produced.
After watching all the videos, the two other judges and I had a healthy debate about the merits of the eight videos. Every video, to its credit, managed to produce at least a handful of laughs, jolts, or cringes.
Speaking only for myself, as a judge I was looking for videos that had adequate craft, for starters. Beyond that, though, I wasn't necessarily looking for the best shot or best edited video. I was looking for videos that gave me a fresh take on the genre instead of merely rehashing it. That might sound like a tall order, but there were more than a couple that did this.
Ultimately, after forty-five minutes, the other two judges and I had settled on the prize winners. The winner was a mockumentary that used consistently smart deep-focus cinematography to execute its jokes with a lot of subtlety; an honorable mention was awarded to some ambitious students that came this close to nailing their chosen genre, the musical. That's right, in 24 hours they wrote, scored, shot and edited a musical. It was rough around the edges, sure, but it definitely had me eager to see what these guys could accomplish in 48 hours, and that's worth something.
That night, after the screening was over, I realized that I had experienced a change of heart about competitions like 24Speed. In the past, to be perfectly frank, I've had some reservations about the benefits of such competitions. I guess I feared that the 24 hour time constraint reinforced bad habits (mainly, thinking that making a film is something you can rush through) and emphasized competition over collaboration. I see, now, that I've been wrong.
First, the competitive nature (at least at this one) was entirely overshadowed by the fun everyone was having. That was great to see. Competition can push people to do better work, even (especially?) with art. You just can't take it too seriously.
Secondly, and even more importantly, I see now that what these competitions can do is remind us that there are times when it's better to make something as quickly as possible just to do it.
More than anything else, watching these videos (and meeting the students that produced them so quickly) I was reminded of the collaborations I have undertaken in the past with friends on videos for Termite TV. To an outsider, such projects might seem "insignificant," but I always learned something by making them, even if the final product sometimes ended up being kinda rough.
This afternoon, browsing Termite TV's website, I ran across a quote from Manny Farber's "White Elephant Art vs Termite Art" essay, which reads as a kind of found poem for what I saw at 24Speed: a peculiar fact about termite-tapeworm-fungus-moss art is that it moves always forward, eating its own boundaries, and likely as not, leaves nothing in its path but evidence of eager, industrious, unkempt activities
Part 2 of W&M's Long Weekend of Short Filmmaking coming soon...
ADDENDUM:All of the entries for the contest are now online for viewing by the general public.