Whew!: After a few weeks of fits and starts, a full day of editing followed by a full week of output-to-video frustration, I finally got the “finished” version of Souvenir (November 2001) on tape tonight. It’s not drastically different; in fact, it may be hard to spot the differences at all from the preview screening version. But it feels very different to me. Except that I’m kind of burned out on it tonight, I feel really good about it.
One change I’m still mulling over: a new song under the first scene. It’s called “I’m Coming Home on the Morning Train,” an acapella gospel song performed in 1942 by the Rev. E. M. Martin and Pearline Jones. While I’ve had it on CD for several years, it only occurred to me recently to try it in the movie. It turns out to have been recorded–like so many other incredible artifacts–in the field by Alan Lomax, the godson of American folk music (assuming his father John is the godfather, you see). Lomax just passed away over the weekend. Here is his obituary in the NY Times.
The Look of DV: Tadpole vs. Full Frontal
“The advantage of [shooting on digital video] is that nobody knows, or at least cares, that you’re making a movie; the disadvantage…is that the end product appears to have been filmed through a triple layer of bubble wrap.”
– from Anthony Lane’s New Yorker review of Tadpole, the latest from IFC Productions’ InDigEnt.
Compare this to the complicated process Steven Soderbergh used to get “enhanced graininess” on his new DV movie, Full Frontal (from an apple.com article):
Finish
FotoKem received the final cut of the original movie in PAL video, de-interlaced it and converted it to files using a disk array. The files were shipped across the network to their film recorder, which had been calibrated to shoot on 5298 film to enhance graininess. A two-stop push during negative processing further enhanced grain and contrast. A double chrome-reversal process was used to create the final negative and print. The 4:3 images were matted and converted to a1:66:1 (European) widescreen aspect ratio for theatrical projection. Fine-grade bubble wrap was then placed over the projector lens at the press preview.
A nice passage from artist
A nice passage from artist Anne Truitt’s journal. Easily find and replace “notebooks” and “weblog”:
I once watched a snake shed his skin. Discomfort apparently alternating with relief, he stretched and contracted, stretched and contracted, and slowly, slowly pushed himself out the front end of himself. His skin lay behind him, transparent. The writing of these notebooks has been like that for me.
An artist friend loaned me
An artist friend loaned me his copy of the 1968 underground classic film, Symbiopsychotaxiplasm: Take One. I’d seen clips of the film before, and it played at Sundance one year when I was partying there. But this William Greaves landmark is pretty amazing to watch. The film is a combination of “screen tests” or early scenes of a feature film and the “behind the camera” documentary of the making of the feature. As those familiar with Souvenir (November 2001) can appreciate, the contrast between scripted&unscripted, the use of documentary tools to tell a story, etc. are ideas the film explores. Well, in Symbio, Greaves doesn’t just explore these ideas, he riffs on them with amazing fluency (Miles Davis soundtrack >> obligatory jazz metaphor).
Earlier, Olafur (another artist friend) and I grabbed some milkshakes during his whirlwind US tour. He’s reaching an amazing level in his work, with a sustained fluency and engagement over a daunting number of complex projects, almost all at once. Even as I focus intently on Souvenir and almost everything about it (finetuning, critical reception, marketing and promotion, the potential impact on the WTC Memorial debate), he made a really good point that it’s the process, the continuous production that’s actually more important. A first project is a trial/test; the second is a reaction/correction; the third is the first real coherent/comprehensive attempt; it’s really the fourth project that has the greatest potential/expectation. A very useful perspective to be reminded of. And one that hits home these days when I’m regularly statuschecking myself and my longer term prospects/plans.
Music: Spent most of the
Music: Spent most of the morning following up on clearing music for Souvenir (November 2001). The process is moving along well. One thing I realized, though: I pointed a couple of the record company folks to this site to find further information about the film. (“Please visit greg.org for updates of me inviting you to visit greg.org.”) Is there some kind of Weblog Heisenberg Principle, where, by weblogging something, you alter it? If Wu Tang disses the movie, I guess we’ll know.
New Project: (Should I have a codename?) Seein’ as how I’m working on an animated film, I know I’m going to see Richard Linklater‘s A Waking Life, a seemingly inspired (or at least inspiring) combo of DV filmmaking and paradigm-shifting, computer-aided animation. I want to like it, although I’m not sure I will; I like Linklater, to be sure. Even so, this review on DVD Journal is so damn funny to read, it almost doesn’t matter how the movie is.
Today the LMDC released its
Today the LMDC released its six concepts for rebuilding the World Trade Center. Visit the LMDC concepts website for details. One thing that strikes me immediately is how they’re all titled “Memorial _____” (fill in the blank with Square, Promenade, Plaza, Garden Triangle, or Park). You could say this forefronts the memorial as a priority of the rebuilding efforts, but it also seems like a way to avert criticism of the process and its preliminary results. By innoculating every concept with the name “Memorial,” it takes the memorial off the table, regardless of how the memorial actually plays out in a concept. (There’s no Memorial Mall concept, even though I’m sure those Australians would happily build it in a second if they could. Maybe one of the concepts should be renamed Memorial Station or something? We’ll see.)
I am inclined to read this cynically because of my general disapproval of the process to date: the highly politicized nature of the LMDC itself (and its ultimate status as a Port Authority organ), the fundamental mediocrity of the (urban and architectural) talents brought to bear so far, and the artificial-seeming public participation in early decision-making. Ultimately, I have little confidence that the LMDC (as evidenced in its stated mission and in its aborted RFP process) can create/facilitate the type of resilient, rallying vision I think is critical to actually rebuilding our city, both physically and psychically. (One of the most extensively described requirements of the RFP is for a bus-idling station. Not exactly the stuff of soaring spirits, unless you’re the Port Authority.)
It’s a few minutes later. Don’t expect a phoenix; that’s a pigeon set to rise from the ashes. The near interchangeability of the six “concepts” is staggering. I am sure that the Port Authority’s fixation on recreating the WTC site’s previous program is the single biggest mistake they can make. Not an entirely blank slate, not a dealbreaker. But for the PA’s own political/fiefdom/leasing income priorities to so overpower all the rest of the concerns, THAT MUST CHANGE.
In any case, the concepts are on display at the Federal Hall National Memorial, on the corner of Wall and Broad Streets (across from my gym, oddly enough).
Yesterday on Studio 360, host
Yesterday on Studio 360, host Kurt Andersen lamented on the lack of risk-taking and originality in “art and entertainment,” and he tarred the television networks, Hollywood, and the artists at Documenta with the same brush. [Listen to his commentary here; it’s the 7/13/02 show.] While I’m a fan of both Studio 360 and Andersen, I can’t help but think he’s wrong, at least about Documenta. (He gets full credit on the other two fish in the barrel, though.)
On questions of “staggeringly similar” of art in the exhibit (“serious, photo-journalistic, documentary”) the curators should be identified (either credited or blamed, depending on your POV) as a moving force. Even if Alan Sekula’s photographs grow tiresome after the tenth gallery or so (which it does), the show cannot be dismissed as “grim, unchallenging images full of conventional horrors and the standard villains,” as Andersen tries to do. He despairs, I despaired. As I’ve posted before, Documenta certainly wasn’t the feelgood show of the year. There was a lot to be depressed about. Or to be moved by. Documenta had plenty, including work and ideas that were both challenging and beautiful.
Andersen yearns for the reemergence of the “contrarian genius, dreamers of odball beauty”-style artists, who he imagines are the true “risktakers” of our culture. But having been heavily involved (and invested) in the contemporary art world all through the last economic boom, I’d have to say Andersen may be the dreamer; the “art establishment” has been plenty safe, corporate- and collector-friendly for a loong time.
Traffic School
I may be the newest proponent of home schooling, home film schooling, anyway. Spent the afternoon watching the Criterion Collection edition of Traffic, which–in addition to three complete commentary tracks (dir./writer; producers, consultant/composer)–has a supplemental DVD with 25 deleted scenes, piles of additional footage (Soderbergh shot everything on two or three cameras) and editing, dialogue and film processing details. [Just stop dithering and buy it now. Amazon’s at least as cheap as any store.]
1) I’d forgotten what a watchable movie it is, and how stylized it is, too. The characters are laid out with real economy, to the point that almost all the deleted scenes–even the interesting, good ones–seem superfluous. The supporting characters especially, like Michael Douglas’ aide in DC, his daughters’ friends, Selma Hayek’s drug moll, even the witnesses in the kingpin trial, deliver these lines that successfully carry the whole weight of their characters.
2) Listening to Soderbergh and screenwriter Stephen Gaghan was as entertaining as it was educational. There were hi-larious war stories as well as great bits of insight. In the scene where the drug dealer’s going at it with Douglas’ daughter, it’s a wacky revelation to hear Soderbergh describe shooting from under the sweaty, nude dude. (“You’re a fine-looking man, Steven,” cracks the screenwriter.)
3) Stephen Mirrione gives some really interesting discussion of editing, especially the building process for one of the most complicated scenes, the teen overdose with Douglas’ daughter. In editing Souvenir, our scenes had a far less layered structure; it was more sequential. Of course, none of our scenes are as intricately edited as the overdose scene, which grows increasingly (seemingly) chaotic, but which turns out to have a complex, layered rhythm when you look at the editing timeline.
[As I write this, there’s a character–a callous, crazy robber–on The Practice named Gavin Brown, which is (coincidentally?) the name of an art dealer friend. Did the writer or director have trouble getting on the waitlist for work from one of Gavin’s artists? When I was subletting my apartment from a writer for Melrose Place, a pompous, materialistic Wharton MBA named Craig turned up for a few episodes. I found out she’d changed it from Greg because she liked me. Which reminds me of another friend, Euan, who’s onetime roommate turned their swingin’ life into a shortlived WB sitcom. The Takeaway: be careful of befriending screenwriters.
Here’s a link about rights
Here’s a link about rights and a song that I’m thinking of using, a possible replacement for Zabriskie Point.
http://www.loc.gov/folklife/cg.html
I’ve collated all Documenta 11-related entries in one page, which I’ll keep updated. There’s been a steady/increasing number of Google searches for Documenta and participating artists; rather than add a new index (“Shows I’ve seen” or something), I’ll try this compilation page idea.
Rights, On: I’ve been digging
Rights, On: I’ve been digging into rights issues for both the new project (which will get a highlights list soon) and for Souvenir, getting ready to meet with a lawyer referred by a good friend at Universal (until he just busted out). The two bodies of rights I’m working on are life rights and music clearance. Here are some highlights [up front, let me point you to Michael Donaldson’s straightforward book, Clearance & Copyright: Everything the Independent Filmmaker Needs to Know. It’s not flawless, but it’s certainly an informative reference for getting up to speed. It doesn’t replace a lawyer, but it’s quickly useful for working with one. And if you’re serious about making and showing a film, you shouldn’t go forward without at least talking to a lawyer at some point.]
Life rights are a perpetually ambiguous aspect of the filmmaking process. I’m trying to determine the most feasible approach to life rights for the new feature project, an (at least partially) animated musical. The key benefits of life rights seem to be 1) getting co-operation and insight from a party, which could improve the accuracy and entertainment value of the project, and 2) lawsuit insurance, since a valid life rights sale basically precludes any chance someone has to sue you for making a movie based on their life.
There are plenty of ways to make a movie without life rights, of course; the Law & Order universe clearly thrives without them. It ultimately comes down to the equations used by potential backers and distributors, who will weigh the value (or cost) of having (or not having) life rights agreements in place.
Some execs flatly state that rights must be in place before they’ll even consider a project; not having them is one sign of amateurism and a definite red flag. [Here is a Q&A with Angelique Higgins, the VP of Pierce Brosnan’s production company. Go down about 60% for the answer I’m referring to.] The story of Brandon Teena and Boys Don’t Cry shows however, that people are happy to move forward–even to rush forward– without rights in place if the project is hot enough. [Here is one account of the rights race around Teena’s story, but just about any of the Google results make for interesting reading.] The conclusion: you absolutely need life rights for a project. Except when you don’t.
Music clearance is at once more humorous and more grim. I don’t know if advice is suddenly coming in from everywhere, or if I just think everyone’s staring at me, knowingly. Whichever, the Slamdance FAQ came through twice with some good, hard advice: In Part 1, they talk about “festival rights” vs comprehensive usage agreements; a lot of short films screen with festival rights in the hope that a distributor or whoever will pony up the dough to get the full music rights or to remix the music altogether. “So what happens is that those music issues will often single-handedly preclude a film from getting distribution.” Hmm. No icebox.com for you. Do not pass go.com, to not collect $200. Instead, “using original music from your uncle’s Bar Mitzvah band is usually the best bet.” And in Part 2, there’s this great bit of advice on filling out the festival application:
Q: Where it says music, is that the composer or what band is on the soundtrack?
A: It can be either. But if you’ve got the Rolling Stones on your temp track and don’t have the rights, it’s best to stop kidding yourself and stick to your cousin Joey as the composer.
And the only article from Filmmaker Magazine I haven’t mentioned yet (until now, that is), talks about the dangers of “falling in love with your temp track.” It’s apparently too easy and too common to spot indie films that have been edited to the soundtrack of The Mission. You can buy it here. As if you didn’t have it already… Donaldson’s book also has a very useful, sobering read about getting rights squared away and the importance of sticking to the letter of the agreements. Music clearance services never looked so good to me as they do now.
The Takeaway: Tracks on Souvenir where we’re already making progress on securing rights will stay, but the ones I’ve been deluding myself on (Pink Floyd’s Heart Beat, Pig Meat and Wu Tang) are O-U-T, or O-T-W (On The Way), anyway. My Zabriskie Point/Antonioni homage will have to come from the box office instead (D’oh!).
Poking around Slamdance’s website to
Poking around Slamdance’s website to get my submission stuff ready. It’s HI-larious, obviously made by someone who pokes around dry film festival websites for a living. That led me to Bitter Films, where Don Hertzfeldt flogs and writes about his animated shorts and celebrates “107 awards, four Grand Prizes, and a rather spooky cult following.” There’s a production journal, which looks good, if a little random. (Pot, Kettle. Kettle, Pot. I know.) Gotta keep the random quotient high to please the cult followers.
Not only did I finish
Not only did I finish all the tweak editing I mentioned earlier, the momentum picked up. I worked on the pacing of some dialogue scenes, changing some breaths/gaps and taking out a few tiny lines here and there. It makes a noticeable difference (noticeable if you’ve seen the movie a hundred times; otherwise, it’s just smooth.) I was a little wary, though, since I just read an interview with Soderbergh Filmmaker Magazine. Talks about The Limey writer Lem Dobbs, who “fumes at Soderbergh for gutting his script to such an extent that Dobbs was blamed by critics for the thinness of the characters and the lack of backstory.” [It’s in the DVD commentary; buy it yourself and find out. I did.] Then I redesigned the credits, added some parentheses to the title. (It’s been Souvenir (November 2001) on a few submissions lately.) For good measure, I made a few audio level adjustments, pulling up some lines that could get a little lost.
Everything went well, smoothly. Output my new master and slave DV copies, WHICH WERE BLANK when I got them home for dubbing. Apparently, FCP didn’t recognize the camera. CHECK YOUR TAPES BEFORE YOU LEAVE. Now I’ve gotta make an emergency run Fri. morning to re-output it. It looked good, though, and it felt good to be squarely in the “making” process again, even if it’s only for a day
Back in March when we
Back in March when we were editing Souvenir November 2001, we spent some grim days dealing with sound. We’d recorded audio on the DV camera and on Mini-Disc (not DAT), using slate (not timecodes) to sync the sound. Then at the last minute we had problems loading the MD’s into Final Cut Pro and had to transfer them to CD. Sync’ing the audio was supposed to be easy, but it was a huge pain. Why mention this now?
In the newest issue of Filmmaker Magazine, there’s a roundtable with Steven Soderbergh’s team from Full Frontal where they talk shop. Here’s what Susan Littenberg (1st asst. ed.) says they did (note: they had two Final Cut Pro systems, which sounds luxe.):
In the last paragraph: “Is there anything that you can think of that filmmakers should avoid? Any advice you can give filmmakers before they get started on a project like Full Frontal?”
“Don’t sync audio to video in Final Cut! Take the extra time up front to do the sync dailies and reload them.”
Two takeaways: 1) We’re doin’ it more Soderbergh-style than we’d imagined (or wanted to, frankly), and 2) Finish the article before you start typing your weblog entry.
Hmm. At the end of
Hmm. At the end of this Salon interview with independent director Tom diCillo, he says, “The greatest luxury is being able to get on the set. I would do it for no money. I love doing it. I love it.” Right below it is a link to an older interview with diCillo “on the ‘tedious, boring, painful experience’ of making an independent film.”
New Project: Did I mention
New Project: Did I mention it’s animated? Actually, yeah, I did. Indirectly, anyway. Did I mention it’s a musical? Umm, yeah. Well, I’ve been researching anime, animation production, CG, and techniques today. Here are some interesting links I’ve assembled so far: