Saturday Shoot

Reflecting on this past Saturday's shoot helped me realize the sheer value in filmmaking. In my opinion, I feel that making a film may be more enjoyable than watching one. Furthermore, I think watching the film who help create is even more of an exhilarating experience. I have never worked with a bolex before and I consider as quite an unique experience. I was enthralled by the process of loading the relatively ancient device-- how I was easily well acquanted with its inner workings (unlike a digital camera, where I am still left in a ball of confusion as to how all the little buttons work). Just the sound the bolex makes as the film slides through the gate inspires me to create.

Our idea was to create a short that was similar to an old action serial combined with a Charlie Chaplin film. As exploration of greed, it was a minor comedy about various people searching for treasure. Essentially, it leads to a massive fight, ending with people trampled and even pimp slapped (think of it as a music video for the Village People b-side as directed by Michel Gondry and you;ll get the picture. Anyway creating it was a lot of fun—lots of spontaneity, which is great. You could really sense that everyone had a blast in doing it, and I was surprised by how little takes it took to pull it off.

I am willing to admit that I was first annoyed that we were spending such a beautiful day in class, but I honestly would not have anything better to do. What made it all so cool is that it did not even feel like we were in class. One small moment that sticks out for me is when we were rolling five deep in Brandon’s car. It really felt like my buddies going out and making a silly little film. It is a great feeling to have.

I finally learned how to develop film (sad I know, considering that I am a Senior majoring in FILM studies). Despite all of the chemicals, I love how “organic” it feels. Although arguably not as practical, I seriously wish that film does not go the way of the dinosaur. The “of the earth” style (this is the best way I can convey how I feel) is as mysterious as it is wonderful. I also wish that I can get my hands on one of those bolex cameras in the future. I think I come up with a few things that I can do with it…

Chion

Empathetic music (described as the ability to relate to the feelings of others) is an interesting concept addressed by Chion. Basically, both music and sound is designed to make the audience feel more involved in the action. For instance, during comedic films the music will usually be upbeat or dopey to match the character’s ineptness or the lack of sound when an horror film prepares for a “jump” scare. What is interesting is how this is effective at a subconscious level as we as the audience have been so accustomed to this idea. That being said, the best score/ sound design is thought to be not noticeable at all in its technique (which makes you question sometimes how the Academy always tends to notice). Sometimes, however, the score does indeed call attention to itself to brilliant results. Take Shutter Island for instance, the bombastic score completely sells the feeling the film is attempting to evoke, that is, a classic Hitchcock film.

What so interesting about sound is that, in film, it is almost entirely constructed in post-production and yet we the audience accept it as a reality. Essentially sound in film is no more real in its representation of reality than computer generated imagery. That being said, the absence of this construct makes the world of difference within the scenes. This is especially the case with Shutter Island. It’s the score of the film that sells the unsettling nature of the insane asylum that DeCaprio’s character is trapped on. The lighthouse in the film would just be another lighthouse if it were not for the bombastic score that accompanies the visual of it.

Chion also discusses how our attention as an audience constantly diverts to whoever is talking as we are trying to figure out who is speaking and what they are talking about. After we discovery this, Chion discusses how we will then get distracted by other noises as we are now comfortable with what is going on. If you think about it, the concept makes complete since and it is really interesting that we do that. Once we gather our bearings so to speak, we then become multi-taskers. That is why I think the sound design usually tapers off when a character is speaking onscreen. Yes, we more than likely need to here what he is saying, but we also do not need to be distracted.

My experience in cameraless filmmaking has been quite a bizarre one thus far. I don't mean bizarre in a negative sense, but as the best word to capture the feeling of creating a film with the only lens being our own eyes. Some people are a theory based, while others are more hands on. I am definitely a hands on type of guy, so in truth, I am actually sort of digging this approach to filmmaking. The idea of experimentation, as in creating something through the process of trial and error (what works, what doesn't) is an aspect of the process that I wish to adapt in narrative filmmaking, especially when it comes to working with actors. there is no wrong idea, but a collaborative effort between the actor and director to make sure the performance serves the story the best way possible. To bring it back to cameraless filmmaking, I think that what I am also interested in is how it feels like projecting emotions. To me, there is no sense of logic in the process-- no right way of doing something, moreso than narrative filmmaking it almost feels like we are bringing film to a level of pure art, away from the commercially viable and more towards artistic expression. I have no idea what I am doing, and I definitely have no idea where I am going. however, here's the thing-- I actually like that feeling. The unknown is not something to be feared but to be embraced. the fearlessness needed to make cameraless filmmaking should be applied to narrative filmmaking, so that new ground will be broken.

2nd Response: Synesthesia

What intrigued me the most about the article was the idea that synesthesia is considered a gift-- an additional hidden sense. I first heard of this idea when it was behind Pharrell William's "Seeing Sounds" and I was left hook after initially hearing about the concept since. I love film and understand it as a visual medium, which is why I love the idea of the other senses other than sight being conveyed through visual means. What I think is so amazing about it is that the audience (meaning primarily me perhaps) simply accept it without question. One example of this is from the PIXAR animated film Ratatouille. In the film, the main character’s experience with taste is conveyed visually with a “light show” accompanied by a soundtrack. Basically, the sense of taste is presented to the audience through visuals and music, an odd concept because I never thought of the senses being so connected. When I was reading about the number form of syesthesia, I could not help but to think of the way Neo perceives the world of the matrix at the end of the first film. Once he is “enlightened,” Neo was able to “see” the binary code of the world and can bend it to his will. In a basic sense, that is what synesthesia represents to me—the ability to apply different senses together to fully “understand” the patterns and rhythms of the world. Really cool. I’m assuming the point of reading about this concept is so that we understand the process behind avant-garde filmmaking and apply it when we do our 6X1 projects. Today I am supposed to convey the elements of fire and water on my filmstrip. As opposed to simply creating a perfect recreation of it through visual means, the article about synesthesia is making me rethink my approach. Wait, am I supposed to rethink my approach. Is this all supposed to happen on the subconscious level? I’m not supposed to think about it? I honestly have no clue, but now that it is in my mind, I feel that I am creatively inspired to tackle this project as well as other subsequent projects in the future.

1st Response

"To The Beat" by the Scratch Film Junkies' is perhaps described with two words: poetic chaos. The fluidity of the visuals in sync to the, what I call, "junkyard" beat, evoke a sense of playfulness that intrigues me the most about cinema (However, as far as narrative storytelling is concerned, I'm certainly not much of a fan of Jean Luc Godard. Funny that). For whatever the alloted time of the short was, the filmmakers were hypnotists; utilizing the cinematic form as a way to encouraging me to understand the world as one of infinite possibility. If that doesn't sound coherent, that means I must still be under their spell.
I have never done acid, but, if I did, I imagine that I would see the world similar to what the Junkies had created-- especially if I was in my 7th grade Geometry class or something. The gorgeous arrangement of the various geometric shapes caught my eye, especially the blue figures pulsating to the rhythm of the beat near the film's intro. The way the film actually told stories with the imagery intrigued me, as the idea may seem counterproductive to the film's intentions. These stories were told thematically, as seen in the sequence where a family is steadily revealed before they are seen together in their entirety. What does it all mean? If you know, you probably did drugs once.
In sum, I retract "poetic chaos" as the two words that describe the film. In their place: drugs and playful. They don't that ring to it, but it best encapsulates what I think the film was attempting to accomplish. That is, to cleverly shake up how we perceive film and, in turn, our reality.