Code: 1201
By: Lecturer Aisha UMURUTA
This module will introduce the students to the role of the Director and equip you with the tools
required to convey an idea to the screen. You will learn the choices that make a shot tell
the story your way. The focus will be on each student’s artistic identity and the kind of
themes that are the subject of personal interest.
They will analyse inspiring film examples, and get a chance to develop scripts from
the page to the screen. You will therefore be expected to carry out practical story-
boarding exercises, explore non-verbal communication, and expressions of dominance in
a scene.
LEARNING OUTCOMES
By the end of the Module, you should be able to
1. demonstrate an understanding of the director’s role in creating the system of
images that build into a moving visual story
2. Direct at least one scene of a story
3. Understand the role of the director in the overall filmmaking process.
4. Discuss the overall directing process
1. THE DIRECTOR’S JOB PROFILE
The term directing in film is used in reference to all related functions and activities
required for translating and transferring the premise, idea, and/or concept to the audio-
visual images. The Director is engaged by the Producer and assigned by the Producer to
direct a Motion Picture. The Director directs whatever is seen and heard in a Motion
Picture. The Director has the right to be present on the set whenever shooting is in
progress. The fact that the Director may also render services as Producer or Writer or in
any other capacity does not change the Director’s job classification, with reference to
work performed as a Director, and during the period of such work.
2. ATTRIBUTES OF A GOOD FILM DIRECTOR
There are many attributes that are necessary for a good film director. These are
imagination, tenacity, knowledge of the craft, knowledge of people, and ability to work
with
others, willingness to accept responsibility, courage, stamina, and many more.
The most important attribute that can be taught, the one that if missing will negate
all the rest, is clarity — clarity about the story and how each element in it contributes to
the whole, and then clarity about what is conveyed to the audience.
Alfred Hitchcock said that if he were running a film school, he would not let
students near a camera for the first two years. In today’s world, that film school
would soon find itself bereft of students, for the camera serves as a validation that
one is indeed pursuing the art of filmmaking. Nevertheless, there are things one
should be aware of before picking up a camera, so we will begin our journey with
an introduction to film language and its grammatical rules. However, before then let us
look at the duties and responsibilities of a director.
3. DUTIES AND RESPONSIBILITIES OF A DIRECTOR
A Director’s duties include the following:
i. survey and approve all locations and their use as they pertain to the directorial
idea and need;
ii. directorial planning and breakdown of the shooting script;
iii. plot the camera angle and compositions within the frame;
iv. participate in determining the requirements of the set, costumes, make-up, props,
etc., for their proper directorial perspective and mechanical functioning
v. participate in the final casting of all performers;
vi. rehearse actors, extras, and any of the visual and audio devices necessary for the
completion of the Production;
vii. Direct the action of all performers, extras, etc.
viii.
direct the dialogue as well as pre-recording and post-recording of dialogue;
ix. directorial supervision of the duties of the entire crew during the rehearsal and
shooting periodsx. Make such script changes as necessary, within the Director’s jurisdiction, for the
proper audio-visual presentation of the Production;
xi. The right to the “first cut.”
The Director’s general function is to contribute creatively to all the above elements and to
guide, mould, and integrate them into one cohesive, dramatic, and aesthetic whole. The
director is therefore responsible for overseeing the creative aspects of a film, such as
controlling the content and flow of the film's plot, directing the performances of actors,
selecting the locations in which the film will be shot, managing technical details such as
the positioning of cameras, the use of lighting, and the timing and content of the film's
soundtrack.
4. CINEMATIC LANGUAGE
Film language is made up of the different film elements that a director uses to
communicate to the audience. These elements include cinematography, lighting, sound,
editing and performance. These entire elements combine together to convey meaning to
the audience. A director should therefore have enough knowledge about these elements
for them to use them appropriately in telling their stories.
A Director and the Camera
The director uses a camera to write the story on screen just as the writer uses a pen to
write the story on a page. The shots that the director chooses to take can be compared to
sentences that a writer chooses to write. The use of camera to tell stories has led to
development of a Film Language. To become a director one has to understand the
language that film uses to convey information to the audience.
Every edited shot in a movie is a complete sentence with at least one subject and one verb.
Like prose, a film sentence/shot can be simple, with only one subject and one verb, and
perhaps an object; or it can be a compound sentence/shot, composed of two or more
clauses. The type of sentence/shot to be used will first depend on the essence of the
moment to be conveyed to the audience. Secondly, that sentence/shot will be contained in
a design of the scene, which may be an ingredient of an overall style. A cinematic syntax
yields meaning not only through the surface content of shots, but also through their
connections and mutual relationships. Film language has only four basic grammatical rules, which every director must
understand so that in case they want to break them they can do so for a purpose. Three of
these rules are concerned with spatial orientation because of moving the audience into the
action. The fourth also deals with space, but for a different reason. All of these rules must
be followed most of the time, but all can be broken for dramatic effect.
These rules are;
i. The 180-degree rule that deals with any framed spatial (right-to-left or left-to
right) relationship between a character and another character or object. It is used
to maintain consistent screen direction between the characters, or between a
character and an object, within the established space.
ii. The 30-degree rule. If we are going from one shot of a character or object to
another shot of the same character or object without an intervening shot of
something else, the camera angle should change by at least 30 degrees. The effect
of disobeying this rule is to call undue attention to the camera; it seems to leap
through space. If the rule is obeyed, we do not notice this leap. But in some
instances, disobedience can be dramatically energizing.
iii. Screen direction. If a character (or car, or any moving object) exits a frame going
from left to right, he should enter the next frame from the left if we intend to
convey to the audience that the character is headed in the same direction. If we
disobey this simple rule and have our character or car exit frame right, and then
enter the second frame from the right, the character or car will seem to have made
a U-turn. When they go from right to left, a tension is created. Maximum tension
is created when the character moves right to left and up. A character approaching
the camera and exiting the frame camera right should enter the following frame
camera left.
iv. Film time. Our stories unfold in time as well as in space, and the ability to use
both in service of our stories is of paramount importance. A simplistic view of the
use of time in film — but one that contains much storytelling savvy — is that we
shorten (compress) what is boring and lengthen (elaborate) what is interesting.
We are not talking here about the compression that takes place in the screenplay,
such as a year, or even ten years, played out in five minutes of film time (an
absolutely essential component of nearly all screenplays). In addition, we are not
yet talking about transitions between scenes: the “what” that happens between the
end of one scene and the beginning of another. What we are talking about here is
the compression of time that takes place within a single scene. In what we might
call “ordinary compression,” to distinguish it from an ellipsis (a cut that makes it
obvious to the audience that a jump in time has occurred), we will often be
dealing with compression the audience will accept as real time. A more accurateappellation would be film time. Elaboration can also be used to prepare the
audience for what will happen next, and, at the same time, create suspense about
just what it will be. Elaboration can also be used to elicit a mood.
Since Film is a language used to tell stories, and the narrator of those stories is the
camera, the director is the ultimate storyteller, but the “voice” she/he will use is that
of the camera.
For the director to tell the story effectively, he/she must understand how to control six
variables with the camera. However, in all six, composition within the frame is a
primary factor.
i. Camera Angle
ii. Image size (which affects scale and field of view)
iii. Motion (up, down, tracking)
iv. Depth of field (normal, compressed or deep, affected by focal length of lens
and f stop)
v. Focus (selective within the frame)
vi. Speed (normal, fast, or slow motion)
The director will manipulate and integrate these possibilities to create the
sentences used to tell the cinematic story, and will then organize the sentences
into “paragraphs” — complete narrative or dramatic blocks that will rely heavily
on compression, elaboration, and a third extremely powerful narrative/dramatic
element, the reveal.
The elemental units of film language correspond to glancing, reacting, studying, walking,
looking around, whirling about, stepping back, rising, sinking, scanning, running, gliding,
and a host of other expressive human interactions. Camera shots are the main ways
through which film communicates. A shot is a framed image “taken by” (revealing words)
someone for whom it had meaning. Shots evoke more than their subject, for they prompt
us to speculate about what, how, and why we are seeing. The camera acts like a pen in
the hands of a writer and so the director uses the camera to communicate. A camera can
either be fixed or in motion Here are examples of how a camera is used for
communication in film.
B Fixed camera
A fixed camera position reproduces the feeling you get when you stand still and look
around. Depending on the context, it can variously convey being secure, fixed, trapped,
contemplative, wise, or just plain stuck.
A fixed camera realizes the following shots;i. Brief shots are like the cursory glance that ends immediately after we have
conceptualized what we are seeing. We do this to orient ourselves in a new
situation or to look in many places in search of something.
ii. Held shots are like the long looks we sometimes take. Maybe we watch a store
customer we suspect of shoplifting. Maybe it’s a friend leaving on a long journey
whose last smile we want to commit to memory. Long looks break into two
classifications: resting looks and studying looks.
iii. Close shots mimic intensive observation, maybe of something small like a watch
face, or something large like a great weathered rock. There are psychologically
driven reasons to look closely at something. Imagine a person who hovers by a
phone in a large room, waiting for the results of a medical test. Nothing else exists
for that person but the phone and its terrifying aura of power. Here, the close shot
reproduces an intense emotional focus that leaves us blind to everything else.
iv. Wide shots convey the way we scan anything large, busy, or distant. We look
only long enough to know the object’s shape or to locate some aspect we prefer to
study in detail. Coming out of a quiet, dark church into a busy street, for instance,
takes adapting to the new circumstances while we work out the direction home.
Often we must establish the nature of our new surroundings, hence the term
establishing shot.
C Moving camera
Authentic camera movements, like their human-movement equivalents, never happen
without a stimulus or motivation. Camera movements divide into three kinds of
motivation, which resemble active and passive ways of attention to an event:
i.
Subject-motivated, where the camera follows a moving subject or adapts to a
changing composition. Relatively passively, it adapts to keeping a subject in view.
ii.
Search-motivated, in which the camera’s “mind” actively pursues a logic of
inquiry or expectation. This mode probes, anticipates, hypothesizes, interrogates,
and even goes ahead of the action.
iii.
Refreshment-motivated, in which the camera simulates the human tendency to
look around when we run out of stimuli.
Camera movements generally have three phases:
i. Initial composition (static hold making an initial statement before the
camera begins movement).
ii. Movement (with its particular direction, speed, and even its subject to
follow, such as a moving vehicle).iii.Concluding composition (static hold after the movement, making a
concluding statement).
D Camera movements from a static position
These include turning, looking up and down, and looking more closely.
i. Pan (short for panoramic) shots occur when the camera pivots horizontally,
mimicking the way we turn our head to scan a horizontal subject like a landscape
or bridge. Direction of travel is indicated as “pan left”or “pan right.”
ii. Tilt shots are similar, but the camera pivots vertically to reproduce the action of
looking up or down the length of a vertical subject like a tree or tall building.
Direction of travel is indicated as “tilt up” or “tilt down.”
iii. Zoom in or out is made with a lens of adjustable focal length. Zooming gives a
forward or backward impression of movement, but picture perspective actually
remains identical. This is because the size proportion between foreground and
background objects stays the same. For perspective to change, the camera itself
must move.
E Traveling camera movements
These occur when the camera moves through space—up, down, forward, sideways,
backward, or in a combination. Traveling camera movements impart a range of
kinesthetic feelings associated with walking, running, approaching, climbing, ascending,
descending, retreating, and so on.
i. Craning (up or down) is a movement in which the camera is raised or lowered in
relation to the subject. The movement corresponds with the feeling of sitting
down or standing up—sometimes as an act of conclusion, sometimes to “rise
above,” sometimes to acquire a better sight line.
ii. Dollying, tracking, or trucking are interchangeable names for any horizontal
camera movement through space. In life, our thoughts or feelings often motivate
us to move closer to or farther away from that which commands our attention. We
move sideways to see well or to avoid an obstacle in our sight line. Associations
with this sort of camera movement include walking, running, riding a bike, riding
in a car, gliding, skating, sliding, sailing, flying, floating, or drifting.
iii. Crab dollying is when the camera travels sideways like a crab. The equivalent is
accompanying someone and looking at him or her sideways as you walk.
A would be director must familiarise him/herself with the camera shots necessary for
communication so that they can make creative use of the camera. It is good to note that t
is not necessary for him to be a cinematographer because he/she will give instructions to
the cinematographer to make the shots he/she wants.
5. THE DIRECTOR AND THE SCRIPT
There are many elements embedded in a screenplay that if unearthed by the director will
help supply clarity, cohesion, and dramatic power to what appears on the screen. The
director should therefore analyse the script well in order to tell the story convincingly. To
do that the director should determine the following:
i. The spines. This can also be called a premise and through-line. They unify the
story into one complete whole.
There are two categories of spines,
a.
The spine of the film, or its main action. This is the driving force
or concept that pervades every element of the story, thereby holding the
story
together.
b.
The spine of the characters — their main action. It is the goal that each
character desperately desires, aspires to, yearns for. It should be extremely
important, perhaps a matter of life and death. The character must save the
farm, win her love, discover the meaning of life, live a life that is not a lie,
or any of the countless wants we humans have.
ii. The protagonist. Most successful films have a protagonist, and the first question
in our detective work on the screenplay is: Who is the protagonist in our film?
Another way of asking the same question, one I believe is more helpful for the
director, is: Whose film is it? Which character do we go through the film with?
Which character do we hope or fear for — hope that she will get what she wants,
or fear that she will not?
iii. Character. Character is everything that has gone into the making of our characters
before they stepped into our film: genetic inheritance, family influence,
socioeconomic conditions, life experience, and on and on. In scriptwriting this
was called the backstory.
iv. Circumstance. This is simply the situation the characters find themselves in. It can
be, from the character’s perspective, objective or subjective — real or imagined.
In a feature-length screenplay, the circumstances, especially for principalcharacters, are more often than not made explicit in the screenplay. They are not
up for grabs. But in short films the full circumstance of the character may not be
contained in the text.
v. Dynamic relationships. The relationship we are referring to here is not the societal
relationship; that is, husband/wife, boyfriend/girlfriend, father/son,
mother/daughter, and so on. These static relationships are facts of the story and
will come out in exposition. What we want here is to find the ever-changing
dynamic relationship that exists between any two characters — the one that
supplies what I call the dramatic juice. And where do we find it? The dynamic
relationship is found in the present moment; in the “now.” And it is always
established by looking through the eyes of the characters. It may be objective or it
may be entirely subjective. The important point is always how one character
“sees” another character at the present moment. For instance, a bride on the day of
the wedding may see the groom as her “knight in shining armor.” Seven years
later she may see him as her “ball and chain.” Or, on the day of the wedding, the
bride, instead of seeing “my knight in shining armor” sees her “ticket out of
town.” A father may see his son as a “disappointment,” while the son may see his
father as his “boss.” That very same father may change during the course of the
film and begin to see his son as “his own drummer,” while the son may now see
his father as his “rock of Gibraltar.
vi. Wants differ from spine in that they are smaller goals (objectives is another term
sometimes used) that must be reached before the larger goal of the spine can be
achieved. There are also smaller (but not unimportant), more immediate wants
that occur in individual scenes and are called scene wants. These “smaller” wants
can conflict with the larger goal of the spine, and as far as dramatic purposes are
concerned it is better if they do. Synonymous with want in drama is the obstacle
to obtaining that want. This is what elicits the struggle — the dramatic journey. It
is what supplies the conflict.
vii. Expectations. A character may want something, but do they expect to get it? Are
they afraid of what might happen, or are they confident? This psychological state
is important for the audience to know so that they can more fully access theparticular moment in the story. In a scene where each character’s expectations are
opposed, and we know about it, dramatic tension is created.
viii.
Actions. Drama is told through the actions of your characters. These
actions must be conveyed to an audience in order for them to fully appreciate, as
well as understand, the story. Characters perform actions to get what they want.
That seems rather obvious, doesn’t it? But what may not be so obvious is that
characters rarely perform actions that aren’t related to attaining what they want.
They almost never voluntarily take their eyes off the prize. But exceptions do
occur! Sometimes a character will commit an action that is not related to their
immediate want, but instead is generated by their innate character — like the
scorpion. Dialogue is action! If I say “Hello,” to you, it may be a greeting.
However, if you came into my class a half-hour late it may very well be a
reprimand. Only by fully understanding the circumstances and the wants can we
arrive at the true intent of the action.
ix. Activity. It is important to distinguish between action and activity. Suppose you
are sitting in your dentist’s reception area reading a magazine. Are you waiting or
reading? Most likely you are waiting. As soon as the dentist is ready for you, you
will drop the magazine. So what is the reading, in dramatic terms? It is an activity
that accompanies the action of waiting.
x. Acting beats. An acting beat (also referred to as a performance beat) is a unit of
action committed by a character. There are literally hundreds of these acting beats
in a feature length film. Every time the action of a character changes, a new acting
beat begins. Each acting beat can be described by an action verb.
Directors who can identify these elements will obtain a clarity about their scenes that will
inform their work with actors, their staging, and not least, their camera. Dramatic blocks,
narrative beats, and a scene’s fulcrum are three of these elements I have identified and
given labels to, and each of them has to do with the organization of action.
6. VISUALISING THE SCRIPT
A Storyboard
A storyboard is a drawn outline of a film (be it a short film or feature film) or
animation. A storyboard is a sketch where you tell your future story with characters andbackgrounds. This set of slides helps you see the big picture of the whole story
anticipated at the end. The storyboard provides an opportunity to fully prepare the rest of
the crew for any video production. Storyboards are drawings of each individual shot.
They are a visual manifestation of a long investigative journey and can be very helpful in
communicating the director’s vision to others. But the beginning director should be
warned. Storyboards should be the end of the process: annotations of moments in an
overall orchestration. Because they are static renderings of moments, they often prevent
the beginning director from seeing the flow of the scene and realizing the connecting
tissue between each of these moments. Once the director’s journey has been made a
number of times — from the detective work on the page, to shooting on the set, to the
edited version — the storyboards will begin to be more relevant to the final outcome.
Prose storyboards can be very effective in locations that do not lend themselves to
floor plans. Moreover, they are very helpful in spotting errors of omission — missing
beats — even if we then go on to visual boards. Let’s see how this type of investigation
might work with the following text. The benefit of a prose storyboard is that it gets you
thinking about the visual aspects of your film without making a big deal out of it, and it
tends to be very accurate in indicating the essential ingredients — the essence of each
moment — that must be conveyed to the audience in order that they can appreciate the
unfolding of the story.
Elements of a storyboard
i. a specific scenario,
ii. visuals,
iii. explanatory captions.
Importance of a storyboard
i. Storyboards can illustrate the camera shots and movements that filmmakers have
in their heads, making it easier for the cast and crew to understand how
everything will piece together
ii. A storyboard helps to convey the flow of movement from one scene to another.iii. Makes the director understand the stylistic tone and choose to either change the
style significantly or double down on the storyboard artist's interpretation of how
the final cut should flow.
iv. Filmmaking is all about problem-solving, and storyboarding helps to solve
problems before they even occur. Directors also often find that their action set
pieces won't work then they start storyboarding and they need to be re-written.
When you're imagining a chase scene in your head, it probably seems very
exciting and intense, but once it's on paper, you might see that it's not as
exhilarating as you imagined. Similarly, shots and camera movements that
seemed sleek in your mind might look boring or cliche when they're storyboarded
in the cold light of day.
Storyboarding is a crucial part of the pre-production process that puts your film into
perspective more than a script can. Whether you are working with a storyboard artist or
sketching it out yourself, do not undervalue this step’s impact on a film.
7. STAGING
Staging in film is different from staging in theatre. Staging for theatre is also called
blocking and the audience have only one point of view. In the film, we stage for the
camera.
A Functions of staging
Staging has eight main functions. These are;
i. To accomplish the functional and obligatory physical deeds of a scene. In
other words, it renders the action, as in, for example, “Jack and Jill go up the
hill. . . . Jack falls down. . . . Jill comes tumbling after” or (in Shakespeare’s
King Lear) “Lear dies.”
ii. Staging makes physical what is internal. When staging is used in this way, it
helps make the psychology of a character more available to the audience. In
an overt action scene, or even in an entire action film, there may be very little
need for this kind of staging, but the more psychological the scene — the
more inside the head of the characters — the more a director will call upon
this function of staging.iii. It can indicate the nature of a relationship, and do it quickly and economically,
as in for example, a man sitting behind a large desk while another man stands
in front of it. Coming upon this staging without knowing anything
about the two characters, we would very likely assume that the man standing
in front of the desk is a subordinate. Now, if we came upon a different staging
— a man sitting behind a large desk, another man sitting on it — we would
not so readily assume that the man sitting on the desk is a subordinate.
Staging therefore can so dominance in film. Hitchcock uses this latter staging in
Vertigo (1958) to help make us aware that the man behind the big desk in this
big office with the big windows is a close friend of Jimmy Stewart’s character.
A great deal of back-story is accomplished very quickly by beginning the
scene in this manner.
iv. Staging can orient the viewer. It can familiarize us with a location or point out
a significant prop. One way of doing this is to stage the action so that our
character’s movement in the space reveals the relevant geography of the
location. In this way the viewer can be apprised of a window our character
will later jump from or a door that someone will enter, or they can discover a
prop that will have a significant bearing on the plot. An example of this is the
hypothetical rifle hanging above the mantel, which Chekhov referred to in
discussing dramatic craft. In Lina Wertmuller’s Swept Away . . . by an
unusual destiny in the blue sea of August (1974, Italian), the director
introduces the varied geography of a deserted island while keeping the
narrative thrust of the story continuing unabated, so that the audience receives
the expository information (location geography is most often expository
information) without realizing it. “Oh, the island has high cliffs, and sand
dunes, and look, there’s a tidal pool!” Later, when these various locations are
used, this expository information will not get in the way of the drama, in that
the audience has already digested it.
v. Staging can resolve spatial separation. “Separation” occurs when a character
is shot within a frame that does not contain the other characters (or objects) in
a scene. To “resolve” this separateness — to define, clarify, or reaffirm for theaudience where a character is spatially in relation to another character or
object — a shot that places the disparate characters/objects in the same frame
is needed. Staging can be used to create this shot, as in Character A walking
into Character B’s frame. Resolution of spatial separation can also be
accomplished with the camera, without a change in staging, by cutting to a
two-shot or group shot that includes Character A or B, or a group or an object.
It can also be accomplished with a camera movement; the camera pans from
Character A to Character B. Although each character remains in separation,
the “linkage” established by the pan will satisfy the audience’s need for spatial
clarification.
vi. Staging can direct the viewer’s attention. It can make the viewer aware of
essential information. Hitchcock uses staging for this purpose in the Vertigo to
force us to concentrate on the intricate and essential plot points — facts the
audience must be aware of in order to understand and enjoy the story
Hitchcock does exactly the opposite of what you might expect. Instead of the
“expositor” planting himself in close proximity to Stewart, Hitchcock has him
begin to roam. In fact, he roams into another room of the very large office
suite, so that Stewart and the audience are forced to concentrate their attention
on what is being said.
vii. Staging can punctuate actions. It can be used as an exclamation mark, but can
also be used to formulate a question, or to supply a period in the middle of a
shot. In Gandhi (1982, British/Indian), director Richard Attenborough uses
staging to emphasize the action contained in Gandhi’s (Ben Kingsley)
dialogue during a political meeting among different factions of India’s elite.
The meeting takes place in a large living room and everyone is sitting
comfortably in a horseshoe-shaped pattern. A servant enters with a tea service,
and Gandhi stands, moves to the servant, and takes the tea service from him.
Gandhi proceeds to talk and serve the teacups. The punctuation through
staging goes like this: Political point/teacup served/period Political
point/teacup served/period Political point/teacup served/exclamation markviii.
Staging is used in “picturization” — in helping to create a frame for the
camera to render.
8. THE DIRECTOR AND THE CREW
The director must take responsibility for the entire production
— screenplay, acting, production design, camera, sound. This responsibility
extends to the managerial/logistical aspects, such as adherence to the schedule and
set discipline. The same clarity that is essential in directing actors
is needed in directing a crew. The director must state clearly the dramatic or atmospheric
function of the color of a room, of the props, costumes, hairstyles, and
makeup. Then it is important for the director to let the craft people do their jobs,
and to count on them doing those jobs well. But as stated earlier, the director must
assume responsibility for the final decision. Everything that goes into making a film
should pass through the prism of the director’s vision.
A Working with the director of photography
The most professionally intimate relationship on the set, aside from director/actor, is
director/director of photography. After all, it is the DP who controls the key to the final
images that are projected on the screen. In film, only the DP will really know what those
final images will look like, so trust must be implicit in the relationship. And although the
DP’s first responsibility is lighting, the director will invariably rely on him for
concurrence on framing (a good eye to bounce off is a welcome friend to any director)
and choice of lenses.
There are more than a few directors who relinquish the narrative responsibility of the
camera to the DP. This is not a good idea in most cases, for the director is then assigning
a second voice to the film — a voice that may or may not be in sync with the director’s.
Of course, if the director has no voice. . . . No, do not even think like that. The director’s
job description requires him to be the undisputed narrative voice. And you should try to
work only with DPs who respect that concept.
Choosing a DP has some of the qualities of casting actors. The director must look at the
DP’s previous work and find in it the images, atmosphere, and texture the director
envisions for the current project. And if it is not found, it is proper to run lighting tests.
Most DPs will welcome this, and here they may pleasantly surprise the director by
delivering images that are beyond the director’s expectations, and maybe quite different.
But only with the director’s clear enunciation of tone, atmosphere, and texture can the
DP supply and augment the director’s vision. Just like any intimate relationship in our daily lives, the one between DP and director requires
communication.
B Editing
Director’s Assembly
During the director’s much-needed vacation, the editor or assistant editor will log all of
the material, keeping careful records of where all the various takes are. The takes can
then be assembled in the chronological order of the screenplay. Returning refreshed and
eager to see how everything cuts together, the director can now sit down and look at all of
the footage in order, selecting performance takes, and making a shot list for an assembly
that approximates, as much as possible, the director’s original visualization. (An
assembly consists of various shots that are not yet intercut but have been “cleaned up” —
slates removed.) I encourage this step-by step approach to shaping the edited film. It may
seem time-consuming, but I have discovered just the opposite. Beginning to cut too early
can lead to wrong choices because we have not immersed ourselves enough in the
material and allowed the material to speak to us. This makes it more likely that we will
have to rummage through the outtakes more often than necessary — a time-consuming
process.
First Rough Cut
Edited shots are now extracted from the camera takes and intercut with other shots, using
the director’s final visualization before shooting. This is one of the most exciting times in
the filmmaking process: seeing performances that make us laugh or feel sad; the power of
the narrative beats as they are rendered by the cutting; the narrative thrust of the story
unfolding on the screen. But it can also be one of the most frustrating times. We begin to
see our mistakes: performance beats we did not get because we did not insist on them;
errors of omission in our shot selection because we just weren’t “smart” enough to realize
the need for a certain angle; or a missing shot because we ran out of time or lost the light.
Our original visualization is almost
never fully realized on the screen. But if we have followed the methodology discussed in
ths module, the chances of having an error of omission should be reduced to a minimum.
This is in the area of performance that the beginning director will most likely find
disappointment. And do not blame it on the actors. It is the director’s fault. So, what can
be done about performances in the editing room? A lot. Yes, our story will change
somewhat, depending on how much we have to “cut around a performance,” but
hopefully the essence will remain and the story will not suffer too much.
A SHOT LIST is a document that maps out everything that will happen in a scene of a film,
or video, by describing each shot within that film or video. It serves as a kind of checklist,
providing the project with a sense of direction and preparedness for the film crew.
It is typically made in collaboration with the director, cinematographer, and even first
assistant director. Shot lists are especially critical in managing and preparing
for film scenes. Making a movie demands knowledge of shot type, camera movement,
lighting, actor staging, and much more. Putting this information down in a shot list helps
the filmmakers remember what it is they wanted, and how to execute.
With so many moving parts, having a concrete document stating which shots demand
what equipment, and how long shot setups will take, determine so much of the
schedule and budget.
WHAT GOES ON A SHOT LIST?
● Brief description of shot- action, characters
● Scene number and shot number
● Shot type (close-up, wide shot, etc.)
● Camera angle
● Camera movement
● Camera equipment
● Framing (aspect ratio)
● Location (INT./EXT.)
● Setup times
● Sometimes audio notes, or prop mentions
It is recommended that you make a shot list from your storyboard. Some people make
shotlists for a days shooting while others make a shot list for the whole film. It is up to
you to take up what suits you best.
C MUSIC AND SOUND
It is important for a director to get an experienced sound editor to “build” the sound
tracks and prepare for the sound mix. As with lighting and the DP, the sound editor has
technical knowledge and experience the director most likely does not have. And like theDP, they can be counted on to offer wonderful creative suggestions. Still, it is the director
who has the last word in the orchestration of sound, because it is a conceptual category.
When and where to have ambient sound, and what kind, is crucial in creating dramatic
tension or creating the proper atmosphere. And it is wise to incorporate sound in the early
stages of your conceptualization. Skip Lievsay — a sound designer who has worked with
Spike Lee, Tim Burton, and the Coen brothers — told my colleague, the director Bette
Gordon: “If you want interesting sound, shoot for it.” Sometimes that means simply
leaving room for it. Of course, music can help enormously to create atmosphere and
tension. There are films that are carried by the sound track. But don’t count on it.
Music is a complement, not a supplement, to the story. And it is very subjective. Most
directors will have some idea of the type of music they want for their film, and this is a
good place to start. If an original score is being composed, the director’s sense of what
dramatic job the music should do, what atmosphere it must help to create, or what theme
it should embody can be communicated to the composer. As in choosing the other
collaborators, an important consideration for the director is whether or not the composer
will listen to your ideas. And it is guaranteed that they will have ideas of their own —
hopefully wonderfully exciting ideas. Be open. You do not just hand the music over, but
at the same time, as with all of your collaborations, you should supply a clear input along
with a good deal of faith.