Okay, it's experimentation time.
A couple of literary agents in cyberspace go through their stack of query letters "live" on their blog. That is to say, they read each letter then give a one or two line comment on it in their blog – always saying whether it's a pass or a request for the full manuscript. It makes for great reading. In one case I recognized my own query letter in the comments (which isn't supposed to happen) and adjusted my letter to address the issue the agent brought up.
So I figured, why do this with the short film submissions?
Below are my random thoughts about each film we watched last night as we watched them. I've tried to keep the comments general enough so you can't tell which film we were watching, but I'm sure if you've submitted a short to DWF you won't be able to resist guessing which one is yours. I'll bet you money you're wrong.
Some things to keep in mind: THERE WERE FOUR OTHER SCREENERS WATCHING AT THE SAME TIME, so my opinion is just one-in-five. Believe me, the range of tastes is wide, so if I passed it doesn't mean everyone did.
Every screener has their own system. Personally, I give films a PASS, MAYBE MINUS, MAYBE, MAYBE PLUS, MUST SEE MINUS, MUST SEE, and very rarely a BOOK IT NOW. Only after we've seen all the films to begin to hash out what's in the festival and what's not, so again, a pass by one screener at this level is not a death sentence.
1st Movie: "This disk cannot be played." Message on the PS3. We'll try it on my computer later. If that doesn't work, ask the filmmaker for another copy. Next.
2nd movie: Good Start. I'm interested. A lot of the films we're getting this year have soundtracks that sound like they came from soft-core porn. Slow pacing. I’m way ahead of the story. Second copyright logo issue – not a killer, but shows a lack of skills. Production sound that's obviously been gated, would be okay if the story was better, but it's dragging. The acting is solid, which is always a plus. Ultimately, this is a Maybe.
3rd Movie: Nice opening shot that told a good story – but went on WAY too long. Blown out video (whites so white that you can't see anything). Just laughed out loud… always good. Kept my interest even though there was a lot NOT to like about it. MAYBE Plus.
4th – 18 minutes… oh, god… The first minute or so of this film would have made a pretty good short – one joke, and out. But they're going to drag this one bad frat-boy joke out over 18 minutes… please say it ain't so. Funny how the sound gets better when the camera is closer to the actor. Get boom operators and mixers, people. The mic on top of the camera is for your vacation videos. PASS TLTB (Too Long, Too Boring).
5th movie – Good Logo, usually means bad movie… we'll see. Damn, another cut down feature – right in the middle of a fairly good movie, a scene that makes no sense because the back-story was cut. Some good filmmaking skills here, but the script is bad, mostly in the dialogue. There are so many ½ subplots that have been cut to the bone that the story doesn't make sense. This is a shame, because in all other departments this is a well-made film. But a bad script will kill good filmmaking every day. MAYBE PLUS.
6th movie – MUST SEE – didn't get to write anything during it, it was too good.
7TH -- A story with not dialogue. So I'm touching typing. A little slow, but beautiful, exotic location. Thin story, but it's holding up. Really long, though… don't know how it will hold up on a big screen. MUST SEE.
8th Movie – shakey cam… hate that. Have to be a really good movie to make up for it. Lots of screaming. Unmotivated shouting scene. Extraordinarily unbelievable, stereotypical dialogue. PASS.
9th Short Doc – Good sense of humor in this documentary, and an honest journalism style. Definitely stuff I've never seen before. Good stuff. MUST SEE.
10TH – What is it about bad acting that you can tell there's no talent present even before they do anything? Action movie plots, con man stories, etc. aren't really made for the short format, particularly if the screenwriter isn't in full command of his or her skills. Too much back-story is required to get to the conflict, so we're left watching nothing but exposition. For a short, you have to get in, make your point, and get out. PASS
NOTE: Movie number 10 made no sense half way through, so while the other screeners stuck with it, I went to the restroom, took a break to get another slice of pizza, came back, typed this, and the movie is still going – and still makes no sense.
11th Music Video – Yeah, short! Not a great song, but cute. Music videos are so hard to judge. MAYBE.
12th This comedy is all over the map. Sometime's it's an honest character driven comedy, sometimes it's an over-the-top farce, and I'm not sure the filmmaker is in control of what's what. The cast is great, definitely working actors, which is fine by DWF. Ultimately, a pass since it made no sense, which is a shame given the quality of the cast.
13 – Two minutes in and nothing has happened. Watched the entire movie and nothing happened. PASS.
14 – A musical. Not our first this year. Why do I get the feeling that all the shows like Glee mean we're going to see a lot more of these? Some good laughs, but few and far between. MAYBE MINUS.
15 – Getting tired. Watching the movies is okay, but hard to type at the same time. This movie is based on a true story that is so much more dramatic than the film that I have a hard time liking the movie. Still, they pulled off the story in a difficult film setting – and it is a story that should be told… but are we the ones to make an audience sit through a so-so film just for that? Tough call. Table this one for later, so MAYBE.
16 – Music Video – Not a great song, and that's always bad in a music video.
That's it. Seems a lot shorter re-reading it this morning, but trust me, 15 movies is a haul – particularly going into our 13th year (10th for me).
I hope this helps, or at least is entertaining. Let me know and thanks for reading.
Friday, February 12, 2010
Friday, February 5, 2010
When They're Good
Before I get to this week's screening notes, a little business:
For all the writers (or writer/directors or teams) – don’t forget that DWF has the 2Minute 2Step short film challenge. This is a contest where 2-minute-or-less scripts are submitted – preferably with a director and production team behind the project (aka, friends who'll help make the movie). DWF choices up to 8 scripts and gives them 4 hours to shoot and edit their movie – which then screens at the festival the next night. DWF supplies: Canon state-of-the-art cameras, an "empty space" for shooting, a simple grip & electric package, an edit bay (usually in the lobby of the theatre so everyone gets to watch you sweat out the final stages of production) – and all the fun you can handle.
Check out the link to the right for more info.
Next: DWF has a little alumni get together the first Wednesday of every month. This week, Norman Gerard from year 2 showed up touting his book, FIZZLE. In it, he tells the story of what happened after he made his film, which Variety calls, "…a rollicking good time through good times and bad, high art and low-lifes, auteurs and con artists." So, check it out.
On to the films this week:
Casting is always an issue in independent films. Don't get me wrong, we have seen many a film with obvious non-actors in roles that they absolutely nail. Like an acting teacher once told me, "if you're born to the play the part, you don't need anything I'm going to teach you."
But we also see a lot of films where actors are either miss-cast, or just don't have the chops to pull off a role they weren't born to play. The character so beautiful no one could resist him/her – played by someone who wasn't that person twenty years ago, much less today. The mean boss that all the employees are afraid of – played by a college freshman that you just want to take home for milk and cookies. Etc. etc.
So do yourselves a favor, folks. Plan ahead. Take some extra time when it comes to casting. If you get this part right then half your directing work is done. Screw it up, and nothing can save your project.
Music videos. For the past two years we've accepted music video submissions. At first they were hard to evaluate – what makes a good music video? Are we judging the song, the video, how they go together, everything, what? Now, I have to say I'm getting a kick out of them. For one thing, they're only 3-4 minutes long, so make a nice break between 20 minute movies that feel like 60 minute ones and could be 5 minutes without losing much. They're also a throwback to simpler times. Ah, the nostalgia of the '80s, when you knew what the M in MTV stood for. Keep 'em coming folks.
Personal Documentaries. We put one in the DVD player last night and I turned to a fellow screener, rolled my eyes and said, "God, I hate personal docs." She nodded in agreement and we proceeded to watch one of the best short films I've ever seen. So, for a change, let's look at the positive. What made this personal story something worth watching where so many others are a raving bore?
Answer? It was relevant to anyone who might watch it. Personal information tied to general truths about life. I could take something away from the story that had nothing to do with Uncle Willie's Elvis impersonation, or Aunt Sally's terrific apple pie, or any of the other stuff we've had to watch in the bad personal docs. Also, this good one was well-made from a film perspective. It moved. It was intelligent. It had something to say, and did it quickly in an entertaining way. Bravo.
I spoke of surreal films a week or two ago. We had a good one last night. I wrote on my evaluation sheet, "This filmmaker has skills." Always nice to see.
Which brings to what I'll end with this week – a reminder to you all, how much we want your film to be good. There have been times when I'm literally chanting as the DVD loads, "please be good, please be good, please be good." Your good films give us purpose. We sometimes wonder why we're here, doing this for other filmmakers when we all have projects of our own begging for our time, a good film that's a world premiere, struggling to find an audience in the sea of material that's out there, invigorates us. You keep us going when you take the time to create your best work.
Thanks, and keep it up.
For all the writers (or writer/directors or teams) – don’t forget that DWF has the 2Minute 2Step short film challenge. This is a contest where 2-minute-or-less scripts are submitted – preferably with a director and production team behind the project (aka, friends who'll help make the movie). DWF choices up to 8 scripts and gives them 4 hours to shoot and edit their movie – which then screens at the festival the next night. DWF supplies: Canon state-of-the-art cameras, an "empty space" for shooting, a simple grip & electric package, an edit bay (usually in the lobby of the theatre so everyone gets to watch you sweat out the final stages of production) – and all the fun you can handle.
Check out the link to the right for more info.
Next: DWF has a little alumni get together the first Wednesday of every month. This week, Norman Gerard from year 2 showed up touting his book, FIZZLE. In it, he tells the story of what happened after he made his film, which Variety calls, "…a rollicking good time through good times and bad, high art and low-lifes, auteurs and con artists." So, check it out.
On to the films this week:
Casting is always an issue in independent films. Don't get me wrong, we have seen many a film with obvious non-actors in roles that they absolutely nail. Like an acting teacher once told me, "if you're born to the play the part, you don't need anything I'm going to teach you."
But we also see a lot of films where actors are either miss-cast, or just don't have the chops to pull off a role they weren't born to play. The character so beautiful no one could resist him/her – played by someone who wasn't that person twenty years ago, much less today. The mean boss that all the employees are afraid of – played by a college freshman that you just want to take home for milk and cookies. Etc. etc.
So do yourselves a favor, folks. Plan ahead. Take some extra time when it comes to casting. If you get this part right then half your directing work is done. Screw it up, and nothing can save your project.
Music videos. For the past two years we've accepted music video submissions. At first they were hard to evaluate – what makes a good music video? Are we judging the song, the video, how they go together, everything, what? Now, I have to say I'm getting a kick out of them. For one thing, they're only 3-4 minutes long, so make a nice break between 20 minute movies that feel like 60 minute ones and could be 5 minutes without losing much. They're also a throwback to simpler times. Ah, the nostalgia of the '80s, when you knew what the M in MTV stood for. Keep 'em coming folks.
Personal Documentaries. We put one in the DVD player last night and I turned to a fellow screener, rolled my eyes and said, "God, I hate personal docs." She nodded in agreement and we proceeded to watch one of the best short films I've ever seen. So, for a change, let's look at the positive. What made this personal story something worth watching where so many others are a raving bore?
Answer? It was relevant to anyone who might watch it. Personal information tied to general truths about life. I could take something away from the story that had nothing to do with Uncle Willie's Elvis impersonation, or Aunt Sally's terrific apple pie, or any of the other stuff we've had to watch in the bad personal docs. Also, this good one was well-made from a film perspective. It moved. It was intelligent. It had something to say, and did it quickly in an entertaining way. Bravo.
I spoke of surreal films a week or two ago. We had a good one last night. I wrote on my evaluation sheet, "This filmmaker has skills." Always nice to see.
Which brings to what I'll end with this week – a reminder to you all, how much we want your film to be good. There have been times when I'm literally chanting as the DVD loads, "please be good, please be good, please be good." Your good films give us purpose. We sometimes wonder why we're here, doing this for other filmmakers when we all have projects of our own begging for our time, a good film that's a world premiere, struggling to find an audience in the sea of material that's out there, invigorates us. You keep us going when you take the time to create your best work.
Thanks, and keep it up.
Monday, February 1, 2010
Artistic Cross Training
If you bother to check out the followers of this blog - a whopping total of 6 as I write this, but no matter - you'll find as many if not more novelists as you do filmmakers. This is because I've been slaving away for the past couple of years on adapting and selling my screenplay as a novel, and have picked up a few friends along the way.
I've also discovered that knowledge does transfer from one form to the other, just as my degree in acting/theatre helped me write and direct film.
The big things that apply to all storytelling are OBJECTIVES, OBSTACLES, and when I was an actor I added TACTICS.
For those of you who recognize these words, you can skip to the next paragraph. Whether you're playing a role, writing a screenplay, or a novel, you'll find that every character has something they want (Objective); something that's keeping them from getting it (Obstacle); and a plan for achieving their objective (Tactics). The bigger, harder, more terrifying each of these are, the better your story.
As a freshman actor, we had an exercise for scene work. We had to finish the following sentence for each line of dialogue and/or stage direction: "I want to [OBJECTIVE / ACTION VERB], by [TACTIC], but I can't because [OBSTACLE]."
You'll notice the verb is an "action verb." The more active, the better. "I want to talk to Sally..." Yeah? So? Who cares? "I want to rip Sally's guts out..." much more interesting.
One of my better teachers made a list of visceral, active verbs that I wish I'd kept, especially when my father - a life-long, unpublished novelist - helped me with the first draft of my manuscript. It was full of passive verbs, not only in conjugation, but in meaning. "You have to have more action verbs," he told me.
That's when it all came together. In film, cut on motion. In writing, cut adverbs. In acting, do less. It's all the same thing done in different ways.
Novel: "Suddenly, the cat jumped from behind the bookcase," is less scary than "The cat jumped from behind the bookcase."
In film: The shot of the hero walking down the hall, then cutting to the cat with a loud meow - is less scary than staying in the shot of the hero for a split second more, seeing him begin to look in fear as we hear the meow, then cutting to the cat in mid-jump.
Little stuff, yes - but that's where the craft is.
A word of caution to those filmmakers who think they can get their script sold by turning into a play or novel. I ran into a million of these people when I was doing theatre in Los Angeles. I wanted to kill them. They didn't respect theatre at all - to them it was just a stepping stone to film. To me, it was my art. My job. And I was no one's stepping stone. If you have a story to tell that might work in a different medium, then you'd better respect it.
Writing a novel is just as hard as finishing a movie. By that, I mean writing a good, well-crafted, novel. Sure, you can slap some words on the page that get the idea across - that's the way we all write screenplays (concentrate on the dialogue, make sure the action lines are clear, and that the locations work for the production). In a novel, you are the art department, you are the editor, you are the director, you play all the roles. You don't have anyone on your team to pick up the slack. If your characters play football, you have to. If they wear a ball gown, you have to design it.
And novels are just as hard to sell as films. So, do it for love.
More on screening on Friday.
Thanks for reading.
I've also discovered that knowledge does transfer from one form to the other, just as my degree in acting/theatre helped me write and direct film.
The big things that apply to all storytelling are OBJECTIVES, OBSTACLES, and when I was an actor I added TACTICS.
For those of you who recognize these words, you can skip to the next paragraph. Whether you're playing a role, writing a screenplay, or a novel, you'll find that every character has something they want (Objective); something that's keeping them from getting it (Obstacle); and a plan for achieving their objective (Tactics). The bigger, harder, more terrifying each of these are, the better your story.
As a freshman actor, we had an exercise for scene work. We had to finish the following sentence for each line of dialogue and/or stage direction: "I want to [OBJECTIVE / ACTION VERB], by [TACTIC], but I can't because [OBSTACLE]."
You'll notice the verb is an "action verb." The more active, the better. "I want to talk to Sally..." Yeah? So? Who cares? "I want to rip Sally's guts out..." much more interesting.
One of my better teachers made a list of visceral, active verbs that I wish I'd kept, especially when my father - a life-long, unpublished novelist - helped me with the first draft of my manuscript. It was full of passive verbs, not only in conjugation, but in meaning. "You have to have more action verbs," he told me.
That's when it all came together. In film, cut on motion. In writing, cut adverbs. In acting, do less. It's all the same thing done in different ways.
Novel: "Suddenly, the cat jumped from behind the bookcase," is less scary than "The cat jumped from behind the bookcase."
In film: The shot of the hero walking down the hall, then cutting to the cat with a loud meow - is less scary than staying in the shot of the hero for a split second more, seeing him begin to look in fear as we hear the meow, then cutting to the cat in mid-jump.
Little stuff, yes - but that's where the craft is.
A word of caution to those filmmakers who think they can get their script sold by turning into a play or novel. I ran into a million of these people when I was doing theatre in Los Angeles. I wanted to kill them. They didn't respect theatre at all - to them it was just a stepping stone to film. To me, it was my art. My job. And I was no one's stepping stone. If you have a story to tell that might work in a different medium, then you'd better respect it.
Writing a novel is just as hard as finishing a movie. By that, I mean writing a good, well-crafted, novel. Sure, you can slap some words on the page that get the idea across - that's the way we all write screenplays (concentrate on the dialogue, make sure the action lines are clear, and that the locations work for the production). In a novel, you are the art department, you are the editor, you are the director, you play all the roles. You don't have anyone on your team to pick up the slack. If your characters play football, you have to. If they wear a ball gown, you have to design it.
And novels are just as hard to sell as films. So, do it for love.
More on screening on Friday.
Thanks for reading.
Friday, January 29, 2010
Great Isn't Good Enough
I've had little sleep and two sips of coffee, but who cares? Let's get right to it.
Burn-ins, watermarks, whatever you want to call those "copy this movie and you will be killed" announcements on screeners. Studios have used them for years, and now thanks to digital making all things once cost prohibitive possible – including illegal copies – uber-indies are using them as well. Fine, no problem. We're professional. Put a little notice on the bottom of the screen. Put the name of the festival or person you've given the DVD to as a barely visible watermark behind the whole image. None of this is nearly as distracting as watching key frame numbers, etc. across dailies back in the film days. We're used to it.
What you do NOT want to do is to have "For screening purposes only" plastered across your actors' faces. It is not necessary to have the notice be so distracting that it makes the movie impossible to watch – or becomes more interesting than the movie itself. If we care about the copyright information, we'll look at the end credits, the submission form, or the DVD label. All of this showing off that you've heard this is what studios do only indicates a sophomoric attention to unimportant details. Nine time out of ten, the labor lost on the complicated burn-in would have been better spent on tightening up the edit. So… use them if you think you must (you don't, really, trust me), but keep them unobtrusive, please.
Wow, enough on that. Let's get to the screenings of last night's shorts.
Always to be remembered when making a short; it's not a little feature. The short form of any literary/performance media is an art unto itself.
Mark Twain's quote – or any of the other people reported to have said, "Sorry for the long letter, I didn't have time to write a short one," is an indication of how hard it is to write less. If your script requires a long back-story, maybe it's not a short. Or maybe you haven't figured out how to tell the immediate story in the most efficient manner. If that's the case, do yourself a favor and figure that part out before putting together a cast, crew and all your savings.
I like that phrase, "immediate story." In a short that's all you should be concerned about. Keep it lean and mean.
To that end as well, we saw a lot of "footsteps" last night. That's the term for any kind of mundane physical movements that can be cut from a scene in order to get to the action. We saw several times where a car pulls up, parks, the driver turns the car off, gets out of the car, walks around, opens the door for the other actor, they walk inside and just before they get to the front door, they start talking. Much better if you just start the scene at the front door, yes?
Oh, and the same can be said for starting a movie with a character getting out of bed and putting their slippers/shoes on – or we see an insert of their feet hitting the floor. What's up with that? It has become like starting a book with "It was a dark and stormy night…" So many films do it now that, just once, I'd like to see the movie start with the coffee, or the tired look in the mirror, or any of the other morning clichés. I'll assume that they got out of bed and that their feet did not somehow miss the floor or become incased in cement instead of slippers.
Next topic: Credits. If you buy that a short is not a little feature, then apply that philosophy to your opening credits. The best shorts usually have no opening credits. On the end credits we're seeing a lot of cutesy stuff like outtakes or extra-features types of things that just makes you wonder if the movie is over. If Jackie Chan is doing stunts in your movie, cool. If not, you just come off looking self-indulgent. Save it for the DVD extras. That goes for features and shorts.
Folks, please do a quality control (QC) check on your DVD. If the sound is dropping in and out, or the picture jumps, it makes it hard to evaluate your movie. Of course, if that's the case and the film shows even the slightest bit of promise, we'll ask you for another screener – but it's annoying.
I've babble on enough for the morning. Time for more coffee. I'll leave you with the reminder that I only harp on the bad stuff. You are all doing great work, but in our business great isn't good enough. Make it better.
Burn-ins, watermarks, whatever you want to call those "copy this movie and you will be killed" announcements on screeners. Studios have used them for years, and now thanks to digital making all things once cost prohibitive possible – including illegal copies – uber-indies are using them as well. Fine, no problem. We're professional. Put a little notice on the bottom of the screen. Put the name of the festival or person you've given the DVD to as a barely visible watermark behind the whole image. None of this is nearly as distracting as watching key frame numbers, etc. across dailies back in the film days. We're used to it.
What you do NOT want to do is to have "For screening purposes only" plastered across your actors' faces. It is not necessary to have the notice be so distracting that it makes the movie impossible to watch – or becomes more interesting than the movie itself. If we care about the copyright information, we'll look at the end credits, the submission form, or the DVD label. All of this showing off that you've heard this is what studios do only indicates a sophomoric attention to unimportant details. Nine time out of ten, the labor lost on the complicated burn-in would have been better spent on tightening up the edit. So… use them if you think you must (you don't, really, trust me), but keep them unobtrusive, please.
Wow, enough on that. Let's get to the screenings of last night's shorts.
Always to be remembered when making a short; it's not a little feature. The short form of any literary/performance media is an art unto itself.
Mark Twain's quote – or any of the other people reported to have said, "Sorry for the long letter, I didn't have time to write a short one," is an indication of how hard it is to write less. If your script requires a long back-story, maybe it's not a short. Or maybe you haven't figured out how to tell the immediate story in the most efficient manner. If that's the case, do yourself a favor and figure that part out before putting together a cast, crew and all your savings.
I like that phrase, "immediate story." In a short that's all you should be concerned about. Keep it lean and mean.
To that end as well, we saw a lot of "footsteps" last night. That's the term for any kind of mundane physical movements that can be cut from a scene in order to get to the action. We saw several times where a car pulls up, parks, the driver turns the car off, gets out of the car, walks around, opens the door for the other actor, they walk inside and just before they get to the front door, they start talking. Much better if you just start the scene at the front door, yes?
Oh, and the same can be said for starting a movie with a character getting out of bed and putting their slippers/shoes on – or we see an insert of their feet hitting the floor. What's up with that? It has become like starting a book with "It was a dark and stormy night…" So many films do it now that, just once, I'd like to see the movie start with the coffee, or the tired look in the mirror, or any of the other morning clichés. I'll assume that they got out of bed and that their feet did not somehow miss the floor or become incased in cement instead of slippers.
Next topic: Credits. If you buy that a short is not a little feature, then apply that philosophy to your opening credits. The best shorts usually have no opening credits. On the end credits we're seeing a lot of cutesy stuff like outtakes or extra-features types of things that just makes you wonder if the movie is over. If Jackie Chan is doing stunts in your movie, cool. If not, you just come off looking self-indulgent. Save it for the DVD extras. That goes for features and shorts.
Folks, please do a quality control (QC) check on your DVD. If the sound is dropping in and out, or the picture jumps, it makes it hard to evaluate your movie. Of course, if that's the case and the film shows even the slightest bit of promise, we'll ask you for another screener – but it's annoying.
I've babble on enough for the morning. Time for more coffee. I'll leave you with the reminder that I only harp on the bad stuff. You are all doing great work, but in our business great isn't good enough. Make it better.
Friday, January 22, 2010
Another Year Begins
I hope pathetic fallacy is just a literary, not literal, phenomenon as the weather was terrible for the first day of screening for year 13. Occasionally, though, the lightning, wind and rain were a nice distraction from some of the less than stellar submissions.
Somehow every screening night follows a trend all it's own. This time it was a journey into the surreal – more often than not, the very bad surreal.
Don't get me wrong, I love a good alternative take on reality. I had my formative years in the 1970's and was probably the only kid who ever sat through an entire episode of "Make A Wish."
But just because you've chosen to skew reality doesn't mean you get to skip over the elements that make for a good performing arts piece. A beginning, a middle, and an end of an intelligent story – character objectives and obstacles - are still required. Yes, I've had long arguments with modern dancers who claim that moving sculpture doesn't require a story, but I think time and ticket sales prove them wrong. Even the contortionist kids in Cirque du Soleil, who are a blast to watch, have a story – "Hey, look what I can do!"
Another key thing to remember with surrealism is that if the audience doesn't get the point of the piece, then the artist – not the audience – has failed. Exceptions would be Kafka for Kindergarteners.
Moving on: This was also a night of bad sound mixes. Granted, part of this might be that surround sound systems have become so convoluted that our toys didn't match the filmmaker's toys, but we do make every effort to find the best setting for each film. We are also filmmakers, so we know that when the music is louder than the dialogue, turning it up won't help.
Soft-talking actors are one thing, but inarticulate mumbling that is buried in the mix is a compound offense. When narrators sounds like they recorded themselves in their empty apartment on their computer's microphone – the movie feels bad, whether it is or not.
A mantra of the digital revolution should be: just because you've bought the software, doesn't mean you have the talent to use it. Sound mixing is extraordinarily difficult – especially when you're asking a festival to play your work on speakers the size of your house. Hire professionals. If you can't afford one, find the best sound geek you can to volunteer. Then play the finished product for someone who doesn't know the script. If they can't understand the words, start over.
Some other quick notes from last night:
Why does every independent filmmaker think it's cool to put in scenes of people peeing? Why do they feel like we need to see great detail of the expelling of body wastes? Want to be original? Make a movie without any urinating, vomiting, or defecating in it. Thank you!
We had yet another film that obviously came from a cut down feature script. I've said this a thousand times, I'll say it again. Don't do this. If your feature makes a good short, then there is too much fat in the feature. If the full script is good, then cutting any part of it should make the rest fall like a house of cards.
The exceptions I've seen look as if the filmmaker has shot the incitement of the feature script (that's about the first 10 pages for those of you who didn't have as good of a high school English teacher as I did). A good incitement will have a beginning, middle and an ending that makes you want to follow the characters. That can be a good short.
Final thought:
For those of you still reading, here's a revolutionary idea I had watching the first submission of the year:
The production values (locations, costumes, art department, etc.) were fantastic. This made me think, the digital revolution may just up the ante on the quality of every other department in independent film.
Think about it. Back in the film days, most of the money you raised for a project went to the camera department and post. Now, with that same money, you can share the love. Better locations, more days of production, better everything. Sure, in the dawn of digital most projects shot on video sucked – not because of the equipment, but the lack of skills of the people involved. All the best talent went for film.
Well, those days are over. Low budget filmmakers have to bring their A-game to every project, because mush of the stuff we're seeing in the screening room is studio quality.
I think we might be entering a Golden Age of Digital Filmmaking. What do you think?
Somehow every screening night follows a trend all it's own. This time it was a journey into the surreal – more often than not, the very bad surreal.
Don't get me wrong, I love a good alternative take on reality. I had my formative years in the 1970's and was probably the only kid who ever sat through an entire episode of "Make A Wish."
But just because you've chosen to skew reality doesn't mean you get to skip over the elements that make for a good performing arts piece. A beginning, a middle, and an end of an intelligent story – character objectives and obstacles - are still required. Yes, I've had long arguments with modern dancers who claim that moving sculpture doesn't require a story, but I think time and ticket sales prove them wrong. Even the contortionist kids in Cirque du Soleil, who are a blast to watch, have a story – "Hey, look what I can do!"
Another key thing to remember with surrealism is that if the audience doesn't get the point of the piece, then the artist – not the audience – has failed. Exceptions would be Kafka for Kindergarteners.
Moving on: This was also a night of bad sound mixes. Granted, part of this might be that surround sound systems have become so convoluted that our toys didn't match the filmmaker's toys, but we do make every effort to find the best setting for each film. We are also filmmakers, so we know that when the music is louder than the dialogue, turning it up won't help.
Soft-talking actors are one thing, but inarticulate mumbling that is buried in the mix is a compound offense. When narrators sounds like they recorded themselves in their empty apartment on their computer's microphone – the movie feels bad, whether it is or not.
A mantra of the digital revolution should be: just because you've bought the software, doesn't mean you have the talent to use it. Sound mixing is extraordinarily difficult – especially when you're asking a festival to play your work on speakers the size of your house. Hire professionals. If you can't afford one, find the best sound geek you can to volunteer. Then play the finished product for someone who doesn't know the script. If they can't understand the words, start over.
Some other quick notes from last night:
Why does every independent filmmaker think it's cool to put in scenes of people peeing? Why do they feel like we need to see great detail of the expelling of body wastes? Want to be original? Make a movie without any urinating, vomiting, or defecating in it. Thank you!
We had yet another film that obviously came from a cut down feature script. I've said this a thousand times, I'll say it again. Don't do this. If your feature makes a good short, then there is too much fat in the feature. If the full script is good, then cutting any part of it should make the rest fall like a house of cards.
The exceptions I've seen look as if the filmmaker has shot the incitement of the feature script (that's about the first 10 pages for those of you who didn't have as good of a high school English teacher as I did). A good incitement will have a beginning, middle and an ending that makes you want to follow the characters. That can be a good short.
Final thought:
For those of you still reading, here's a revolutionary idea I had watching the first submission of the year:
The production values (locations, costumes, art department, etc.) were fantastic. This made me think, the digital revolution may just up the ante on the quality of every other department in independent film.
Think about it. Back in the film days, most of the money you raised for a project went to the camera department and post. Now, with that same money, you can share the love. Better locations, more days of production, better everything. Sure, in the dawn of digital most projects shot on video sucked – not because of the equipment, but the lack of skills of the people involved. All the best talent went for film.
Well, those days are over. Low budget filmmakers have to bring their A-game to every project, because mush of the stuff we're seeing in the screening room is studio quality.
I think we might be entering a Golden Age of Digital Filmmaking. What do you think?
Welcome To Lucky 13
For those of you who followed this blog last year on the Dances With Films message board, welcome to the new location. The message board is up and running for year 13, so feel free to drop by and say hi to your friends.
For new readers, here's the deal:
Screen festival submissions long enough, and you start to notice trends in storylines, styles, music, etc. Like old-fashioned mimeographs, the further these copies are from the original, the harder they are to stomach.
I started this blog last year for selfish reasons. I wanted filmmakers to stop sending us the same, tired, bad movies. They really are painful to watch - and we watch them all. It was my hope that, giving filmmakers a peek into what we're seeing over and over and over again in submissions would make them think twice before spending their time, energy and money on something that has been done a million times before. If this all worked, then I'd get to watch better movies.
Because, you know, it's all about me.
As a reminder from last year, here are the ground rules:
First and foremost, these are general notes. I'm not going to identify any specific movies, so don't come looking here for insight on your submission – even though that is an almost irresistibly fun guessing game.
This blog is like a classroom setting, so I'm not going to spend a ton of time on the good stuff. That's for your premiere. Here we have the lab coats on. It's a given that just completing a movie is an accomplishment worthy of pride - but if we all settled for that, we'd be making home movies. There will be some heat in this kitchen.
How Our Process Works:
Without giving too much away about the secret inner sanctum of judging, At DWF we get together once a week - or more as it gets down to crunch time - to screen short films as a group. Features are taken home and screened individually by up to 3 judges. This blog is more about the short submissions, though I might pop in some feature notes as well.
That's it. I look forward to your feedback on my feedback.
Enjoy.
For new readers, here's the deal:
Screen festival submissions long enough, and you start to notice trends in storylines, styles, music, etc. Like old-fashioned mimeographs, the further these copies are from the original, the harder they are to stomach.
I started this blog last year for selfish reasons. I wanted filmmakers to stop sending us the same, tired, bad movies. They really are painful to watch - and we watch them all. It was my hope that, giving filmmakers a peek into what we're seeing over and over and over again in submissions would make them think twice before spending their time, energy and money on something that has been done a million times before. If this all worked, then I'd get to watch better movies.
Because, you know, it's all about me.
As a reminder from last year, here are the ground rules:
First and foremost, these are general notes. I'm not going to identify any specific movies, so don't come looking here for insight on your submission – even though that is an almost irresistibly fun guessing game.
This blog is like a classroom setting, so I'm not going to spend a ton of time on the good stuff. That's for your premiere. Here we have the lab coats on. It's a given that just completing a movie is an accomplishment worthy of pride - but if we all settled for that, we'd be making home movies. There will be some heat in this kitchen.
How Our Process Works:
Without giving too much away about the secret inner sanctum of judging, At DWF we get together once a week - or more as it gets down to crunch time - to screen short films as a group. Features are taken home and screened individually by up to 3 judges. This blog is more about the short submissions, though I might pop in some feature notes as well.
That's it. I look forward to your feedback on my feedback.
Enjoy.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)