Did you miss me?

I've been busy getting ready for school. One thing I've been doing is following the new iMacs. I've been needing something more powerful with a bigger screen to do color correction and mastering. But when I saw the screen I was shocked and disappointed. The shiny glass just does not make sense. Look at one at the Apple store and all you can see is the person behind you. iPhonemania has also died down. Unlike a few weeks ago, you can easily find one in an Apple store to play with. The interface seems nice, but really, in the end, how interesting is a phone? I played with one for about a minute.

It's a wrap!

It just occurred to me that with Ben and Erik done, we are essentially wrapped. Not only that, but because of the way we shot and edited at the same time, the film is now 99% done, including most of the visual effects. Ben and Erik tell me that we're supposed to have a wrap party with food and actresses. Being socially and cinematically ignorant, that never even occurred to me. We'll see. The major things left are a few easy pickups, sound design + music, color grading and mastering.

I just finished editing in the footage we shot Friday. The desert clue footage--not sure about that. I'll have to get some feedback on whether it makes any sense. The ending hallway stuff is really beautiful. The lighting is great, just natural lighting. The phone stuff looks fine. Hopefully it will all work.

And the winner is....

The winner of the complete-the-story contest is Ben Davis. I thought Ben's entry made the most sense within the dramatic context and had the most internal logic. Ben wins a copy of Living in Oblivion (Canadian edition). Congratulations Ben!

Ben Davis is done!

We shot today for about two hours. I now declare Ben Davis done. Actually, Erik is probably done as well since I can do the remaining few shots by myself. Go get your hair cut Ben.

Feedback on entries so far—still time to enter!

We now have a contest with entries from Ben and David. Erik, John and anyone else... enter soon!

Ben and David, feel free to address the following in a comment somewhere. These are just the off-the-top-of-my-head responses.

Ben
This plot outline reminds me of the classic Star Trek episode Errand of Mercy, which sucks us into believing that the aliens are passive and incompetent. At the end, though, we find that we're the ones who are the problem. Great meaning, but dramatically not too strong. First, as Hitchcock points out, audiences generally want to be in the superior position (e.g., they know a bomb is going off but the characters don't). They often resent being put in an inferior position. Second, and more important, is that these kinds of stories are often dramatically weak. The audience participation aspect is involving, but the characters on screen sometimes don't have much to do. So what happens after Valerie says "I agree with the director." Where does all that energy and momentum go? Also, there's the risk of creating an artificial buildup. If I'm the audience I might be inclined to think "why didn't the trainers just talk to Valerie before they got high and mighty?" It seems the story depends too much on this one twist and may not have enough drama to sustain momentum.

David
I like the audition segment but I'm wondering what this would actually look like. Keep in mind that Valerie's just a janitor without real access to the animals. Is this a full fledged whale show or a more realistic interaction with the whale? How would Valerie's genius come across? Also, if Valerie is such a lone wolf, then why would she let herself get involved in an audition in the first place? Wouldn't she resist that sort of thing? Also, your story implies (a bit) that Valerie likes to use her position as a charity case to get things. Actually a few undergrads are like that. They present themselves as weak, underprivileged minorities and then depend on the charity of instructors to get by. It would be interesting to see this developed. The drugs/alcohol angle seems a bit superimposed on the story structure. Traditionally, the ending should be surprising yet inevitable. The drugs are surprising, but not yet inevitable.

CURRENT ever-changing shot list

REMAINING SHOTS--

new infinite motion map
cutaways for last scene
pix of ben's distressed finger
falling stars

FX shots
--desert roto electric lines

Albert Pyun, Scott Shaw & Zack Snyder's 300

I've long been fascinated by director Albert Pyun. A bit older than me and raised in Hawaii, Pyun (bio) is something of a real-life Ed Wood. Despite his auspicious start as a member of Takao Saito's (Akira Kurosawa's DP) crew, Pyun is known for churning out dozens of Z-grade, direct-t0-nowhere genre films. Constantly battling low budgets and interference by producers (read a fascinating article), Pyun's talent lies in helming a 20 year directing career that exists almost in spite of itself. I find Pyun's approach to directing really interesting—

No storyboards. Ever. I worked pretty organically. I just go where my impulses lead and mostly where the budget and time limitations dictate! I have always called my style of filmmaking "evolutionary filmmaking" I take the limits of budget and time and try to stretch both to fit my vision. I don't try to fight the limitations. Instead I flow with them.

As a filmmaker, Pyun is reminiscent of Scott Shaw. Shaw is an obscurer-than-thou martial artist, author, musician, producer, mystic, film theorist and star of dozens of sub-B movies. In an online article, Shaw describes his approach as "zen filmmaking."

"Just what the hell is a Zen Film?" First of all, and perhaps most importantly, scripts are out the window. I like to say, "Scripts are for sissies." This doesn't mean that we let the actors improv. For the most part, you wouldn't want to see novice actors improving. The problem with scripts is that performances become so contrived when people have their lines memorized for days or weeks -- its just boring. To create a film what we do is Don or I comes up with a concept, we cast some people who fit the roles we have in mind, go out to a location, get inspired and then guide them through what they should say and do. As Don says, "Zen Filmmaking is like painting: you get a canvas, you get some paint, but you never know what the painting is going to look like until you apply the paint to the canvas."

And no, Shaw doesn't use storyboards either. I've never seen a Scott Shaw film. I've seen one Albert Pyun film—Captain America. The thing that struck me about it was its odd sense of proportion. Important moments weren't underscored. Unimportant moments were dragged out. This is in direct contrast to Zack Snyder's 300 which I watched over the weekend. 300 is all about moments—emphasizing them, deemphasizing them, creating them. Everything, from the virtual sets to the extensive use of time effects is about making moments.

This, of course, was one of the big concerns as we worked on our film. Dan and Ben constantly reminded me that I had to emphasize certain moments. Ben discovers the broken spinner. Ben finds the desert shrine. It wasn't enough to get the continuity and sequence right. The important moments had to come across as important which is why we had to pick up so many shots. You do capture energy and vitality when you "go with the flow" but it's too hard to control momentum, proportion and emphasis if you don't know how you're going to cut.

There's a delicate line that separates A and B movies, especially now that so many genre films have made it big time. For every Sam Raimi and James Cameron, there are Josh Beckers, Albert Pyuns and Donald G. Jacksons who toil in relative obscurity. The industry is small enough that many of these people have worked together. Josh Becker worked on Sam Raimi's early films before turning to Xena and other B-fare. The late Donald G. Jackson, the "Don" mentioned by Scott Shaw, worked camera on the original Terminator and directed 31 B-films. I suspect that one thing that separates the A from the B is the existence of moments that proportionately and meaningfully dovetail with the narrative, something made difficult by run and gun shooting.

Enter my contest! Prizes!

I know, it's embarassing. Why spend my time thinking up ideas for TV series—especially when I don't even want to see them through? (Read the previous post before continuing.) But if you've been following this blog for awhile, you already know why I do these things. First, I believe that non-result oriented play is almost always productive. Second, creating work "in the style of..." is a way of integrating analysis with performance. It's an artistic way of distilling the features and qualities of a media product and of answering the ontological question "what is this?"

To have fun with this idea, I created this contest. Here are the rules...

1. Read the previous post on TV series ideas.
2. In a short paragraph write an ending for the episode 6 scenario of the marine park series (see below). Post as a comment to this blog entry.
3. At least two people must enter for the prize to be awarded.
4. The prize will be a new DVD of my choosing from my collection.
5. You must post your answer by next week

Scenario
Episode 6
The Whale Whisperer

Valerie has been working at the marine park as a night janitor. During her free moments, she interacts with the killer whales and we discover that she has a special, extraordinary gift for communicating with the animals. In fact, she is able to get a normally reticent whale to perform. One of the park managers notices Valerie's gift and wants to make her a trainer. Valerie loves the idea. But the show's director argues that short and thick Valerie just doesn't have the "look" to be in front of an audience.

Hint:
Serious answers are more likely to win than non-serious answers. Don't have Valerie opening her own water park in Mexico to popular acclaim! Also, drama and moodiness counts. This show is supposed to be more "Studio 60" than "Baywatch." You can make slight changes to the scenario if needed or change Valerie's name. Actually, when I thought of this idea, Valerie was named Maria and this episode was going to be a comment on race and class. A semi-ironic ending plot twist is always a nice touch.

TV series ideas*

A couple of weeks ago Ben was telling me about his idea for a TV series. It would be about academics dealing with students. The idea came from a discussion we had about this blog. He asked me how many of my students read it and I said I think about two (David and Carlo, and I'm not even sure about Carlo). He thought that was weird and that he thought more students would want to see what their professors were up to. I told him probably the reverse was true—most students would expect me to be reading their blogs. So I guess this series would be about the weird relationships between students and professors.

We just got back from Seaworld and it occurred to me that a marine park would make a great setting for a TV series. I got the idea from seeing the trainers at the Shamu show. They were good performers, young, poised, articulate plus they were all wearing skin tight wet suits. We have the typical Aaron Sorkin setup here—a show within a show, professionals at work & sex appeal.

Here are some story ideas I came up with while watching the Shamu "Believe" show—

Pilot: Superman
Kyle, a trainer with a Superman tatoo is the new kid on the block. As a trainer he has it all—great swimmer, great performer and great with the animals. It's no surprise that quiet, long-haired Katie develops a crush on him. They date a while and seem to be serious. But then they run into a big problem—Takara, the killer whale. "You're jealous of a killer whale?" says Katie in amazement. Inter-species romance jokes follow. After some arguments and the b story wrap up we reach the conclusion—Katie really does love Takara more than Kyle as dramatized in a scene in which she elegantly swims with the whale in slow motion. In the last shot we see Katie at the tattoo parlor having the name "Lois Lane" tatooed on her shoulder.

Episode 2:
A trainer loses his nerve for performing after hearing about a killer whale's attack on a trainer at another park.

Episode 3:
A trainer's love of the spotlight causes the other trainers to question her commitment to the animals.

Episode 4:
The trainers struggle to learn a new show created by a young, hot-shot producer.

Episode 5:
The trainers face an ethical dilemma when they discover that the show's corporate parent is responsible for the deaths of dozens of dolphins.

*See the following post for an exciting contest!