Every once and a while I find myself caught up in an overwhelming outburst of unidentified emotions that can only seem to manifest themselves physically. The root emotion is there, beneath it all, but on top of that is a bombardment of physical sensation.
Tonight, I'm in a storm. Dark, curtains of lace wrap around me, as if to embrace, and when they spiral away, I found myself caught in their hooks: my skin tears away like fragile tissue paper, leaving me open and exposed. I've always found a warm rain enjoyable, but this one is cold. Slick, wet rocks claw at the soles of my feet, standing somehow on a cove above an illicit, angry ocean. Nothing exists beyond the waves but an empty, bleak darkness.
I am pummeled relentlessly. Each moment I think I can gasp a slice of air I'm yanked in the other direction. The surrender, here, echoes of no relief. Instead, I lie in the wake of hopelessness. Give in: the provocation is all around me. And yet, I am fighting. Clawing despite my fingernails being ripped from their base. This could all be over, this could all be over. Why am I still fighting?
"Truth" --Balmorhea (All is Wild, All is Silent)
Wednesday, August 17, 2011
Monday, August 15, 2011
Changing Direction
Perhaps my attention span is limited, but I've found that I could not keep up with a blog. At least, not pertaining to film production. And who am I to pretend I am a master filmmaker?
So, I've decided to change directions. Back to something I knew long before how to pull focus: words. After all, before I was a filmmaker, I was a writer... it's something I've been meaning to spend more time with for a while.
One of the most difficult questions I've ever been asked is what sort of music I am into. I don't believe my musical taste can really be defined. I have a collection of music that I can truly get lost in. I fall into the texture, the movement of a piece. The emotion behind the notes sometimes become overwhelming to me, manifesting itself in a physical fashion. I very rarely listen. I lay on my bed, or sometimes the floor, and experience music. I allow it to move my limbs and body in somewhat of a dance-like way. The sensations of this music have physical, mental, and emotional waves that roll throughout my body. This is all something I experience simply by losing myself to sound.
Today, I am experiencing "Svanire" - a contemporary classical piece by Ludovico Einaudi.
An advantage I have, here, is that I do not speak Italian, and so do not know (at least to start) what "Svanire" means. This allows the music to live through me with complete freedom and no preconceived notions.
From the very first notes, Svanire gives me solitude. A deep green surrounded by pale blue. Humidity. My eyes roll back in my head, and I slowly exhale a breath I didn't realize I'd been holding. From there, it's about liquidity. If you've ever experienced a warm, but heavy, rain shower you will know the temperature I'm talking about. Become drenched in it, let it even permeate your skin soak right into your essence. The freedom of this surrender is intoxicating. The water surrounds you, becomes you. Float.
Picture it. Dew drops on sprigs of greenery. The humidity is thick, nearly suffocating. Let it slide along your arms, as if wrapping you in the safe embrace of a lover: hands entangled in your hair and at the back of your neck, keeping you in such away that you could not possibly fall into harm.
In water tendrils of hair flair out. They individualize. A single hair can reach out, curl, dance on its own away from the body. In such away, you are surrounded entirely by a ballet of life. Stretch, shudder, shiver. A breath fills the lungs with the lightness of clouds. Rise up. Let your body curl as hair does in water. Surrender.
Now, having experienced the music, my curiosity will get the better of me. "Svanire," in Italian, has six meanings: to fade, to disappear, to deaden, to vanish, to wither, to evanescence. This contrasts entirely with my experience with the song.
Does the song truly reflect the intent of the writer, or does it breathe its own life? Perhaps my interpretation is wrong. The video listed on Einaudi's lastfm page shows images of a fetus. I stopped watching midway through it because it, as the word Svanire means, killed my experience.
Or perhaps my vision, too, was about an ending. I felt a sense of surrender and acceptance. While I felt a warm sense of safety, there is no way to say if that is a beginning or an ending of some other emotions. Regardless, the exploration of the piece leaves me with a sensation of exhaustion, as the climax of an emotional and physical experience often does. I hope that you, too, can experience something similar by listening.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=naiu-of7J80
So, I've decided to change directions. Back to something I knew long before how to pull focus: words. After all, before I was a filmmaker, I was a writer... it's something I've been meaning to spend more time with for a while.
One of the most difficult questions I've ever been asked is what sort of music I am into. I don't believe my musical taste can really be defined. I have a collection of music that I can truly get lost in. I fall into the texture, the movement of a piece. The emotion behind the notes sometimes become overwhelming to me, manifesting itself in a physical fashion. I very rarely listen. I lay on my bed, or sometimes the floor, and experience music. I allow it to move my limbs and body in somewhat of a dance-like way. The sensations of this music have physical, mental, and emotional waves that roll throughout my body. This is all something I experience simply by losing myself to sound.
Today, I am experiencing "Svanire" - a contemporary classical piece by Ludovico Einaudi.
An advantage I have, here, is that I do not speak Italian, and so do not know (at least to start) what "Svanire" means. This allows the music to live through me with complete freedom and no preconceived notions.
From the very first notes, Svanire gives me solitude. A deep green surrounded by pale blue. Humidity. My eyes roll back in my head, and I slowly exhale a breath I didn't realize I'd been holding. From there, it's about liquidity. If you've ever experienced a warm, but heavy, rain shower you will know the temperature I'm talking about. Become drenched in it, let it even permeate your skin soak right into your essence. The freedom of this surrender is intoxicating. The water surrounds you, becomes you. Float.
Picture it. Dew drops on sprigs of greenery. The humidity is thick, nearly suffocating. Let it slide along your arms, as if wrapping you in the safe embrace of a lover: hands entangled in your hair and at the back of your neck, keeping you in such away that you could not possibly fall into harm.
In water tendrils of hair flair out. They individualize. A single hair can reach out, curl, dance on its own away from the body. In such away, you are surrounded entirely by a ballet of life. Stretch, shudder, shiver. A breath fills the lungs with the lightness of clouds. Rise up. Let your body curl as hair does in water. Surrender.
Now, having experienced the music, my curiosity will get the better of me. "Svanire," in Italian, has six meanings: to fade, to disappear, to deaden, to vanish, to wither, to evanescence. This contrasts entirely with my experience with the song.
Does the song truly reflect the intent of the writer, or does it breathe its own life? Perhaps my interpretation is wrong. The video listed on Einaudi's lastfm page shows images of a fetus. I stopped watching midway through it because it, as the word Svanire means, killed my experience.
Or perhaps my vision, too, was about an ending. I felt a sense of surrender and acceptance. While I felt a warm sense of safety, there is no way to say if that is a beginning or an ending of some other emotions. Regardless, the exploration of the piece leaves me with a sensation of exhaustion, as the climax of an emotional and physical experience often does. I hope that you, too, can experience something similar by listening.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=naiu-of7J80
Saturday, October 9, 2010
Day One Complete
I felt a lot better about my first day of shooting after meeting with my director of photography the day before. I set times for each scene, mapped out a diagram of where the camera would be for each shot, and Jordyn and I ordered them so that we thought things would flow the best.
However, it is a film shoot, and naturally nothing ever goes as planned. I headed over to RIT to print out sides around 8:30, and the checkout went fairly smoothly. Unfortunately, 8-foot dolly track does not fit in my car, nor did it fit in Jordyn's. Luckily our AC, Amanda, had an in with a conversion van. We were able to move the tracks to the location, but we were already behind.
After some initial set up problems with the monitor, we got our first shot off around 12:30, which is an hour and a half late. There were three jib shots in the bedroom, then a dolly in the kitchen that took much longer than anticipated. Moving a fully weighted down jib arm is difficult, and I have to say that the SR3 is certainly the heaviest camera I ever worked with.
Luckily I had a great crew. Jordyn & Amanda worked really well together, and having Dan, Steve, and Lea on set took a huge weight off of my shoulders. We also had an awesome still photographer! So hopefully in the near future I will be able to post some behind-the-scenes pictures.
We had to cut the bathroom scene for time's sake. We can shoot that in any bathroom, but we really needed to get outside before we lost daylight. Not to mention, we had some extras that had arrived on time and we wanted them to get their chance to shine!
I'm really pleased with the way the bus stop scene went. Having the Oswald family on set was such a joy to me because I finally got the chance to share some of my film making with some of my favorite Irish Dance friends. Another friend of mine was able to come as well, and one canceled, but over-all the scene looked great. Not to mention some fantastic acting on Keenan's part!
We technically wrapped "on time" around six, then it took us a while to load the equipment back up and unpack it at the cage. A security guard gave us some trouble because of a concert, but it worked out in the end that we could leave all of our stuff some place safe (considering how often my car is broken in to).
Morale was high at the end of day one, especially when the crew had a stomach full of lasagna (thanks to my mom's recipe!!!)
Day two is scheduled for Friday, October 15th! Wish us luck!
However, it is a film shoot, and naturally nothing ever goes as planned. I headed over to RIT to print out sides around 8:30, and the checkout went fairly smoothly. Unfortunately, 8-foot dolly track does not fit in my car, nor did it fit in Jordyn's. Luckily our AC, Amanda, had an in with a conversion van. We were able to move the tracks to the location, but we were already behind.
After some initial set up problems with the monitor, we got our first shot off around 12:30, which is an hour and a half late. There were three jib shots in the bedroom, then a dolly in the kitchen that took much longer than anticipated. Moving a fully weighted down jib arm is difficult, and I have to say that the SR3 is certainly the heaviest camera I ever worked with.
Luckily I had a great crew. Jordyn & Amanda worked really well together, and having Dan, Steve, and Lea on set took a huge weight off of my shoulders. We also had an awesome still photographer! So hopefully in the near future I will be able to post some behind-the-scenes pictures.
We had to cut the bathroom scene for time's sake. We can shoot that in any bathroom, but we really needed to get outside before we lost daylight. Not to mention, we had some extras that had arrived on time and we wanted them to get their chance to shine!
I'm really pleased with the way the bus stop scene went. Having the Oswald family on set was such a joy to me because I finally got the chance to share some of my film making with some of my favorite Irish Dance friends. Another friend of mine was able to come as well, and one canceled, but over-all the scene looked great. Not to mention some fantastic acting on Keenan's part!
We technically wrapped "on time" around six, then it took us a while to load the equipment back up and unpack it at the cage. A security guard gave us some trouble because of a concert, but it worked out in the end that we could leave all of our stuff some place safe (considering how often my car is broken in to).
Morale was high at the end of day one, especially when the crew had a stomach full of lasagna (thanks to my mom's recipe!!!)
Day two is scheduled for Friday, October 15th! Wish us luck!
Wednesday, October 6, 2010
Preparations
Time is closing in on my first shooting day.
On Tuesday I ordered four rolls of 16mm film. Two rolls of 500T (Tungsten/Indoor) and two rolls of 250D (Daylight/Outdoor). On Friday, I plan to shoot both rolls of Tungsten and at least one roll of daylight. The film was a lot more expensive than I anticipated. I had been under the impression that, as an RIT student, we had a discount making each roll about $70. Turns out we have to pay $105 for a roll. That does not include the cost of processing, which I will have to pay for after shooting each roll.
What frightens me is that I have planned 11 days of shooting. The first day is supposed to be a relaxed, half-page of shooting. This is the first time in my directing career that I've really had to worry about cost per coverage. I have two options: Be stingy with my shots in order to save money, or make sure I get quality shots and risk having to take multiple shots for each take. The director in me wants to risk having to pay more, but the poor college student is leaning on being stingy. Quality vs. cost? Hopefully I get good quality shots for each take and won't have to pay as much as I fear.
For the record, one roll of film is 400 feet. 400 feet of film translates to about 12 minutes of shooting time. My first three scenes are about half of a page, which translates to about half of a minute of screen time. If I shoot a ratio of 10 to 1, I should only shoot one roll of footage. That's provided each take is absolutely perfect.
The other day I met with my lead actor, Keenan. He's playing Marco, an OCD pharmacist. As we sat at a coffee shop, we discussed the various aspects of Marco's disorder. Is he a tapper, or a checker? What kind of clothes and colors does he prefer? What would Marco's tie look like?
I'm pretty excited about the Friday shoot. I can only hope it turns out as well as it does in my imagination.
On Tuesday I ordered four rolls of 16mm film. Two rolls of 500T (Tungsten/Indoor) and two rolls of 250D (Daylight/Outdoor). On Friday, I plan to shoot both rolls of Tungsten and at least one roll of daylight. The film was a lot more expensive than I anticipated. I had been under the impression that, as an RIT student, we had a discount making each roll about $70. Turns out we have to pay $105 for a roll. That does not include the cost of processing, which I will have to pay for after shooting each roll.
What frightens me is that I have planned 11 days of shooting. The first day is supposed to be a relaxed, half-page of shooting. This is the first time in my directing career that I've really had to worry about cost per coverage. I have two options: Be stingy with my shots in order to save money, or make sure I get quality shots and risk having to take multiple shots for each take. The director in me wants to risk having to pay more, but the poor college student is leaning on being stingy. Quality vs. cost? Hopefully I get good quality shots for each take and won't have to pay as much as I fear.
For the record, one roll of film is 400 feet. 400 feet of film translates to about 12 minutes of shooting time. My first three scenes are about half of a page, which translates to about half of a minute of screen time. If I shoot a ratio of 10 to 1, I should only shoot one roll of footage. That's provided each take is absolutely perfect.
The other day I met with my lead actor, Keenan. He's playing Marco, an OCD pharmacist. As we sat at a coffee shop, we discussed the various aspects of Marco's disorder. Is he a tapper, or a checker? What kind of clothes and colors does he prefer? What would Marco's tie look like?
I'm pretty excited about the Friday shoot. I can only hope it turns out as well as it does in my imagination.
Saturday, October 2, 2010
What's in a Title?
I always knew that I wanted to do something fun with the opening credits for "Pills." When I wrote the opening lines of the script, I always imagined that it would begin with some sort of montage about the main character's daily routine. And so it does:
We follow Marco for a little while as he goes about his daily routine. In the script, he makes the bed, struggles with a bagel, and then gets on the bus to go to work.
I spent a few hours the other day discussing titles with a friend and fellow student, John Sabbath. John did my credits for my two quarter: an origami crane being folded and flying along side the names as they rolled. This year, John volunteered to tackle my opening credits as well.
We spent a while watching opening sequences on an excellent sight that he recommended, the Art of the Title Sequence: http://www.artofthetitle.com/
One particular sequence of note was from "Stranger Than Fiction," a comedy from a few years back. The opening sequence shows the story's main character's morning routine as he breaks it down for optimum time saving.
John & I decided it would be best to get as many "routine" shots as we can. In addition to what the script covers, we'll also follow Marco as he takes a few pills, grabs a piece of fruit, washes his hands, and so on. What we were trying to find in Marco's schedule are places that titles could be composite, as if they belonged there. For instance, as Marco's legs are seen passing by a bookshelf, the name of the actor might appear on one of the spines.
I have a whole day dedicated to this part of the film. We're filming the three "scenes" that appear, but also as many additional shots as we can.
Production is set to start on Friday, October 8th. Equipment reservation is for 9AM with a crew call time of 10AM on location. We have a ton of equipment, even though we're only shooting half a page. Overall, though, I think it will be a pretty relaxing, but awesome shoot.
- FADE IN:
1 INT. APARTMENT - EARLY MORNING
A sparse studio apartment. Everything has a place and is immaculate.
MARCO, early 30s, sets his jaw as he straightens the sheets on his bed. He studies the sheets for a long moment: something isn’t right. He glances uneasily at the clock, and then tears the sheets off and starts over again.
We follow Marco for a little while as he goes about his daily routine. In the script, he makes the bed, struggles with a bagel, and then gets on the bus to go to work.
I spent a few hours the other day discussing titles with a friend and fellow student, John Sabbath. John did my credits for my two quarter: an origami crane being folded and flying along side the names as they rolled. This year, John volunteered to tackle my opening credits as well.
We spent a while watching opening sequences on an excellent sight that he recommended, the Art of the Title Sequence: http://www.artofthetitle.com/
One particular sequence of note was from "Stranger Than Fiction," a comedy from a few years back. The opening sequence shows the story's main character's morning routine as he breaks it down for optimum time saving.
John & I decided it would be best to get as many "routine" shots as we can. In addition to what the script covers, we'll also follow Marco as he takes a few pills, grabs a piece of fruit, washes his hands, and so on. What we were trying to find in Marco's schedule are places that titles could be composite, as if they belonged there. For instance, as Marco's legs are seen passing by a bookshelf, the name of the actor might appear on one of the spines.
I have a whole day dedicated to this part of the film. We're filming the three "scenes" that appear, but also as many additional shots as we can.
Production is set to start on Friday, October 8th. Equipment reservation is for 9AM with a crew call time of 10AM on location. We have a ton of equipment, even though we're only shooting half a page. Overall, though, I think it will be a pretty relaxing, but awesome shoot.
Friday, October 1, 2010
An Introduction
As October begins, I find myself realizing that I am already a week behind schedule. When I started pre-production of "Pills" last year, I had originally planned to start my shooting tomorrow, October 2nd. Yet, here I am, on a computer, not in the least prepared for a shoot tomorrow. My equipment reservation has been canceled, and everyone that had planned to crew for me will have a nice, relaxing weekend.
Making a film is hard.
If there is one thing that I learned my first year as a grad student at RIT, it was that film school is very different from any other college experience. I have friends in science degrees, and I'd be lying if I didn't admit that I am sometimes jealous of their schedules and set routines. I haven't had a weekend free during the school year for a long time, and while entire nights spent editing could be comparable to spending a night writing a paper, it is somehow still different. When making a film, my goal isn't to complete the project and turn it in. My goal is to create something meaningful: to myself, my actors, and any audience that might happen to watch it.
The graduate program is somewhat limited in comparison to the undergrad program. The range of projects we have is a bit smaller and more focused. After two years in film school, I have only made two films, where the undergraduates seem to have a series of projects. The "Freshman" year of the undergrad program is squeezed into one quarter of graduate, while the "Sophomore" year consists of the next two. By the end of my first year of school, I'd successfully learned several cameras (Bolex, PD-150, PD-170, SR2, HVX-200, HPX-500, and DSR-300), as well as two editing systems (Final Cut Pro & Avid Media Composer). On top of all of the learning, I also had to make my own One Quarter (Ten Week) Film. There is certainly no rest for the weary in graduate film school.
Now, two years later, I am embarking on my biggest project yet. I have come far in my sense of technique in both story telling and film making. As an added challenge, the film I'm making for my graduate thesis couldn't be further from the previous films I've made. My One & Two Quarter films were both dramas, both shot in HD, and both crammed into just a few weeks of shooting with small crews. My thesis project is not only a comedy, but a romantic comedy, and comes with all of the burdens of attempting such a particular drama. I've also opted to shoot on super 16-mm film, which is a huge financial investment in hopes of better quality. Instead of a tiny, thrown together crew, I have a handful of dedicated, very talented people helping me. I couldn't as for a better situation to be in.
The film itself is titled "Pills," and tells the journey of an Obsessive-Compulsive pharmacist as he learns to go outside of his own constricting boundaries. Marco works at a pharmaceutical distributor where he receives medications from the manufacturers, sorts them out for individual pharmacies, and then ships them out again. One day, he meets Colleen: an impulsive, ambitious girl that he is going to have to train. At 25 years old, Marco has never kissed a woman, or even held one's hand. When Colleen flirts with him, it is entirely overwhelming, but reminds Marco of feelings that he's been forced to live with out because of his disease. As they go on an adventure together, Marco is forced by circumstance to trust her, and to throw caution into the wind as they work together to achieve a peaceful result.
It is a story that holds a lot of weight for many people. It isn't really about mental disorders and the pharmaceutical industry, it is about putting yourself on the line for people you barely know. It is about opening yourself up to new experiences, because you never know what wonderful things they will bring you. Most of all, it is about finding acceptance when we need it most. It is about accepting yourself for who you are, and finding that through that, others will accept you too.
I hope that you will enjoy reading about the process of this film as I go on the journey of making it. And who knows? One day maybe you'll get to see it on the silver screen, too.
Until then, cheers!
-Andrea
Making a film is hard.
If there is one thing that I learned my first year as a grad student at RIT, it was that film school is very different from any other college experience. I have friends in science degrees, and I'd be lying if I didn't admit that I am sometimes jealous of their schedules and set routines. I haven't had a weekend free during the school year for a long time, and while entire nights spent editing could be comparable to spending a night writing a paper, it is somehow still different. When making a film, my goal isn't to complete the project and turn it in. My goal is to create something meaningful: to myself, my actors, and any audience that might happen to watch it.
The graduate program is somewhat limited in comparison to the undergrad program. The range of projects we have is a bit smaller and more focused. After two years in film school, I have only made two films, where the undergraduates seem to have a series of projects. The "Freshman" year of the undergrad program is squeezed into one quarter of graduate, while the "Sophomore" year consists of the next two. By the end of my first year of school, I'd successfully learned several cameras (Bolex, PD-150, PD-170, SR2, HVX-200, HPX-500, and DSR-300), as well as two editing systems (Final Cut Pro & Avid Media Composer). On top of all of the learning, I also had to make my own One Quarter (Ten Week) Film. There is certainly no rest for the weary in graduate film school.
Now, two years later, I am embarking on my biggest project yet. I have come far in my sense of technique in both story telling and film making. As an added challenge, the film I'm making for my graduate thesis couldn't be further from the previous films I've made. My One & Two Quarter films were both dramas, both shot in HD, and both crammed into just a few weeks of shooting with small crews. My thesis project is not only a comedy, but a romantic comedy, and comes with all of the burdens of attempting such a particular drama. I've also opted to shoot on super 16-mm film, which is a huge financial investment in hopes of better quality. Instead of a tiny, thrown together crew, I have a handful of dedicated, very talented people helping me. I couldn't as for a better situation to be in.
The film itself is titled "Pills," and tells the journey of an Obsessive-Compulsive pharmacist as he learns to go outside of his own constricting boundaries. Marco works at a pharmaceutical distributor where he receives medications from the manufacturers, sorts them out for individual pharmacies, and then ships them out again. One day, he meets Colleen: an impulsive, ambitious girl that he is going to have to train. At 25 years old, Marco has never kissed a woman, or even held one's hand. When Colleen flirts with him, it is entirely overwhelming, but reminds Marco of feelings that he's been forced to live with out because of his disease. As they go on an adventure together, Marco is forced by circumstance to trust her, and to throw caution into the wind as they work together to achieve a peaceful result.
It is a story that holds a lot of weight for many people. It isn't really about mental disorders and the pharmaceutical industry, it is about putting yourself on the line for people you barely know. It is about opening yourself up to new experiences, because you never know what wonderful things they will bring you. Most of all, it is about finding acceptance when we need it most. It is about accepting yourself for who you are, and finding that through that, others will accept you too.
I hope that you will enjoy reading about the process of this film as I go on the journey of making it. And who knows? One day maybe you'll get to see it on the silver screen, too.
Until then, cheers!
-Andrea
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