JOHN PROCTOR
(taking note of the books’ weight)
Heavy books!
REVEREND HALE
They must be; they’re weighted with authority
Reverend Hale smiles upon completion of his words. He then adds an additional beat — perhaps even two — of an overly satisfied smile, and cock of his head. [Figure 5.11]
Figure 5.11
A smile…and then some…and then some
JOHN PROCTOR
(reaching out his hand)
I’m John Proctor, Mr. Hale.
There is an obvious inflection change — beat change — from Hale’s words to Proctor’s greeting. That is, a ‘pause’ (beat) does seem necessary between Reverend Hale’s response to “Heavy books” and John’s reaching out to introduce himself. [Figure 5.12]
Figure 5.12
Beats, separated and extended, transform the subtext
The need for a beat — or two — could have been handled by integrating the “Weighted With Authority” beat with the “I’m John Proctor” beat: cut to John early in Hale’s response; perhaps then cut back to Hale — or not — making use of overlapping dialogue. Hear John, but ‘see’ Reverend Hale; or hear Reverend Hale, but ‘see’ John.
As it stands, ‘hanging’ on Hale’s smiling face for far too many beats — so as to carry us to the “I’m John Proctor” beat — the scheme in construction is palpable; and worse, the emotional subtext makes it ‘appear’ as if the Good Reverend is trying to seduce Proctor.
HINT: An understanding of how beat and rhythms motivate and establish subtext is fundamental to the editor’s ‘search’ for actor performance.
TIP: It is helpful to give title designations to a film’s scenes, the way I’ve done by ‘labeling’ my examples. Scenes will always have a number, but seldom is there an emotional — or content — imprint to material that is called, say, SCENE 42.
Descriptive designations will facilitate quick recall; and designating beats — that make up a scene — is exactly what this chapter is about! Having a ‘tool’ to help ‘monitor’ the ‘sculpting in time,’ will efficiently advance the editing. It will make it easier to ‘work smart’: Continually, and efficiently, remain focused and refine.
HINT & TIP: Early efforts in the postproduction process should be about assembling selected material in large strokes. It might better be expressed as putting-up ‘spare time.’
SIX
juxt
about
right
“There is no art in confusion.”
— Isaac Bashevis Singer
“On a blistering Brooklyn afternoon, two optimistic losers set out to rob a bank.” This is the version of events on the back of the current VHS box for Dog Day Afternoon. When I saw the film at its release in the mid-1970s, it seemed to me that the time of day was not afternoon. I ‘felt’ that the opening montage ‘illustrated’ morning. Several friends reminded me of the film’s title; they also pointed out that the opening montage included a shot of a clock — on a cigarette billboard — reading 2:57. How could I, the only one (of my friends) working in film, and a teacher of editing, have gotten it wrong?
When Dog Day Afternoon was first introduced for home video sale, I eagerly bought a VHS copy. I wanted to own one of the great American films. On the back of that VHS box it read: “On August 22, 1972, in the early morning heat of a scorching New York midsummer day, gunmen enter a local bank.” The writer of this original text had to have seen the film. There is no way to get it wrong if your ‘information’ comes from the film’s title.
Why had — at least — two people made the same mistake?
Sergei Eisenstein proposed that storytelling in cinema is at its best when constructed in an assembly of juxtaposed images. In On Directing Film, David Mamet ‘confesses’ that the juxtaposition of images is “the first thing I know about film directing, virtually the only thing I know about film directing.” You can see from his ‘admission’ that Mamet’s knowledge of film directing is exactly what is required for film editing. In On Film Editing, Ed Dmytryk (nearly) pleads for filmmakers to return to this simple notion of montage: It is the absolute essence of cinematic art.
An indiscriminate juxtaposition of images may not cause a “mental hiccup,” but it is as disruptive — and confusing.
Dog Day’s opening includes some 28 shots around New York City. They are meant — I’m guessing — to ‘take the audience’ from morning into afternoon. The shots are without order — they are uncommonly haphazard; and all too often, the collection of images re-depicts morning. The montage renders a hot summer day so effectively that I discounted the accuracy of the clock. I ‘felt’ that, because of the heat, the clock had malfunctioned — the 2:57 pops-off prior to the next cut. [Figure 6.1] It might have helped — but only a bit — to have held the clock till the time changed to 2:58!
Figure 6.1
I thought the ‘malfunctioning’ clock had died in the summer’s heat!
The juxtaposition makes no allowance for the ‘meaning’ of particular images: What time of day comes to mind when you see a shopkeeper washing down the street; garbage trucks making pick-ups; or a traffic jam with vehicles approaching the camera? [Figure 6.2] Isn’t the traffic approaching the city? Doesn’t this signal morning rush hour?
Figure 6.2
‘Morning’ images are scattered throughout
It is a simple thing to juxtapose images — to put side by side. It’s not easy to do it well. It is especially difficult to make (right) choices when the material is silent — without dialogue — as is the case with the opening of Dog Day. I suspect that the ‘Idea’ for the opening was an afterthought — it does not unite, or contribute to the needs of the story.
HINT: It is an example of what comes of separating Place, Story, and Character. Perhaps the montage was constructed (so as) to make ‘full’ use of the accompanying Elton John song.
To juxtapose right — appropriately and effectively — it is necessary to understand, and to ultimately develop, a ‘feel’ for visual logic. Foremost is the visual logic that is inherent in any specific image — the meaning or feeling it stimulates.
There is a good ‘workout’ I often employ, and recommend to students. It came about as a result of my “Philadelphia, West Virginia Bacon incident.”
I ask the students to take note of image(s) impressions, and any resulting assumptions. This is particularly helpful, when they later ‘learn’ that they were misled, confused, or inaccurate. The idea is to become — as quick as the eye — sensitive to associations derived from any single image; and especially to combinations, distributions, and settings of images. The ‘stay alert training’ makes them more receptive, and insightful in their editing while, at the same time, it supplies consumer safeguards. Television is a good ‘gymnasium’ for the ‘workout.’
The most fascinating feature of television is its never-ending juxtaposition of images: Putting aside advertising strategies in product appeal and sale — for a moment — what feelings, impressions, or assumptions are derived via all of the (unintentionally (?) edited) nonstop juxtapositions? Two of the infinite possibilities viewed, and noted, in my living room: captured Nazi film images of the Warsaw Ghetto Uprising, and a (next) commercial break: “Becks! Germany’s Favorite Beer.” And! An evening news account of starvation in Biafra — established by a film clip of a protein-deficient child, oblivious to swarming flies about his eyes — followed immediately (juxtaposed) with a 30-second ‘breakfast’ commercial: Special K! “You Can’t Pinch An Inch On Me.”
Madison Avenue thrives on knowing response probabilities to word and picture stimuli — they do lots of testing. An article in National Geographic: The Science of Things revealed that with “tens of millions of dollars spent to make and air ads,” researchers “have spent decades watching people watch ads.” Of particular interest: What do we do with our eyes.
While responses to images and their influence on purchasing patterns might seem
less than logical, they reveal a furtive language, which is ‘translated’ instantly in the subconscious mind, effecting an intense — and even intimate — emotional reaction. Advertisers make every effort to create juxtapositions that ‘trigger’ impulsive desires. We are all susceptible!
One day, as I drove home from the supermarket, I laughed at myself. Why had I purchased bacon? I could only dimly recall taking the “West Virginia Bacon” from the meat case, and putting it into my basket. What was it that led me to believe — gave the impression — that anyone in West Virginia would make uncommonly fine bacon? Was this the ‘marketable’ result of singer and songwriter John Denver?
I remembered that suddenly one semester, students began returning to the editing room — after our mid-class break — with Arizona Iced Tea. I wondered then what Arizonans knew about iced tea. I for one would have been more certain about North Carolinians. I made mental note! It turned out Arizona Iced Tea was bottled (at least back then) in Brooklyn, New York.
The moment I arrived home I looked through the grocery bags to find the bacon. The label did not say West Virginia Bacon. It read:
WEST VIRGINIA
STYLE
BACON
When I turned the package over I laughed some more. The ‘Irresistible’ bacon was smoked in Philadelphia, PA.
My ‘bringing home the (Philadelphia, West Virginia) bacon,’ and the students swigging down Brooklyn, Arizona Iced Tea, have led me to a lifetime investigation of visual logic — and to this chapter.
A working knowledge of visual logic is compulsory if the editor is to avoid baffling confusions.
You’ll easily ‘see’ the puzzlement produced by visual illogic in the Sheriff Drives Mrs. Watts to Her Childhood Home scene from The Trip to Bountiful. A Close Up of the Sheriff and Mrs. Watts in the Sheriff’s car, moving screen right to left, cuts to a Long Shot of a car traveling in the ‘same direction’ — screen right to left — ‘pulling’ into town. [Figure 6.3] We are instantly mystified when the driver and passenger exit…
Figure 6.3
…This isn’t the Sheriff and Mrs. Watts?
No! It’s Ludie — Mrs. Watt’s son — and his wife Jessie Mae, arriving at the Bus Depot from which Mrs. Watts and the Sheriff departed earlier. It is interesting that though the cars are different colors, this fact doesn’t lessen the mix-up: Visual illogic is a persuasive trickster of false impressions.
Visual logic can be a compelling, ‘naturally-descriptive’ editing solution!
The cut, which follows Ludie and his wife’s arrival at the bus depot, takes us behind the Sheriff’s car as it drives down a country road, away from the camera — and away from the scene! Visual logic would have been (better) served if this image had come before the Long Shot of Ludie’s car. [Figure 6.4] The Sheriff’s car, moving away from the camera, visually and logically, would ‘conclude’ the Sheriff and Mrs. Watts scene.
Figure 6.4
Visually Logical in Place and Time
There is visual logic that influences dramatic structure. A good example comes from an SVA thesis film: The Painter.
A young man — a struggling writer — working as a freelance house painter, accepts a job in a beautiful — and expensive — Manhattan apartment owned by a career woman who will be ‘out of town.’
Work begins! The painter ‘listens in’ as the woman’s answering machine records messages from several suave men. He ‘checks out’ her photo album, admiring pictures from exotic vacation sites. He uses her CD player to enjoy selections from her music library, and he browses her ‘coffee-table books’ — one in particular catches his eye: recipes from Tuscany!
As the week of painting progresses the young man becomes ever more captivated by the woman. The young man becomes overly familiar [Figure 6.5]; his impetuous, and decisive actions — as scripted — were assembled:
1. Uncovering the woman’s bureau from beneath a plastic cover.
2. Looking through the bureau drawers, and ‘fondling’ her most intimate items.
3. Going into the bathroom to peruse potions and lotions in her medicine cabinet.
4. Undressing, and getting into her ‘luxuriously’ foamy tub.
Figure 6.5
Visual Instinct is more than meets the eye
The Painter
Director, John Kelleran; Editor, Fanny Lee
After a ‘last look’ screening of The Painter, I told the student director, and editor, that I felt ‘something’ was off — as in amiss, faulty. I ‘felt’ it, and I trusted the feeling, but I didn’t know exactly what it was. I asked the students to “Let me ‘live’ with the scene for a while.”
On my way home — my NJ Transit commute — it ‘clicked.’ [Figure 6.6] The ‘trouble’ was in the sequential order of the young man’s intrusions! I felt that #3 (perusing the medicine cabinet) would be better first. #1 and #2 (uncovering the bureau and handling intimate items) would be better positioned #2 and #3, so that, following the young man’s gentle and sensual touching of the woman’s silk undergarments and other suggestive belongings, a cut would take us to #4 (undressing and bathing).
It seemed to me that going into someone’s bathroom, and looking into — even through — her medicine cabinet, is far from uncommon. It’s likely a tolerable act of voyeuristic license. It’s certainly not as excessive as handling someone’s personal apparel, and bubble-bathing in her tub. Its (near) acceptance ‘reduced’ the dramatic lure of the scene(s). The new order would intensify the dramatic force of the scene(s) with a visually logical order to the young man’s audacity.
Figure 6.6
Showing more & more & more bravado
HINT: Visual Logic is a link to choices in the Distribution of Information; and in
The Painter an example of an asymmetrical solution: The Bathroom scene became scenes.
There is Visual Logic that is fashioned by the selected moment of a cut. This model is especially useful when two relatively similar compositions are joined. The closer two compositions — especially in near matching scale — are to each other, the more difficult it is to join them with a cut that ‘feels’ right: The eye is quickly aware of an ‘Inadequate’, or not-so-required ‘new’ image.
TIP: You can shape the success of such a join by ‘giving motivation’ to the moment of the cut. If something additional, or new, is disclosed within a very short span of time — 8 to 12 frames — the eye is satisfied with the new, though nearly identical, composition. In other words, the ‘right’ timing (beat) — especially of the Incoming shot — produces the visual logic.
A good example of this can be seen in the ‘Popeye’ Doyle, Russo, and Suspect in a Vacant Lot scene, from The French Connection. [Figure 6.7] In an Extreme Long Shot the suspect is dragged, thrown to the ground, and kicked. A cut takes us to another Long Shot — for large screen presentation it represents but a slight difference — barely a beat before Russo hauls the suspect off the ground. The ‘haul-up’ — quickly following the Incoming cut — is new, and creates visual logic by giving ‘motivation’ to the Incoming shot.
Figure 6.7
A Beat of Visual Logic
HINT & TIP: This concept links ideas in the chapter “Mind Watching The Cut,” and it is another way to attain an inconspicuous cut.
Beware the editing hazards of Dialogue Scenes: The order and meaning of the spoken word — a more familiar kind of logic, verbal logic — must not distract you from the visually (logical) dramatic needs of a scene.
No matter how ‘sound’ — and even logical — the order of dialogue, it was first written to the requirements — and demands — of a screenplay. The editing opportunities will not be fully apparent until the script is brought to film, and the combinations in image and sound are far more malleable than you’re likely to guess.
HINT & TIP: The editing and re-editing process can permit startlingly better — visual and verbal dramatic loge — possibilities.
The eyes of characters — available after filming — have a
good deal to do with this. The ‘Popeye’ Doyle and Russo ‘Rough Up’ a Suspect scene from The French Connection— described in the chapter “Editing With Two Left Feet” — makes that clear. [Figure 6.8] Physical impossibilities in ‘real life’ become visually ‘acceptable’ — logical — in film; especially possible if the order of cuts is allied to the attention (focus) in a character’s eyes.
Figure 6.8
Visual & Verbal Logic: The EYES have it!
Visual logic is indispensable to avoid the (all too often) randomness in the order of shots in a dialogue scene. It may not be the cut itself, but the ‘joined’ compositions that are (too) apparent, and jarring. Cuts from Long Shot to Close Up to Medium Shot, and every possible permutation of every possible composing, requires a decent consideration of visual logic, even when the dialogue follows in (more or less) verbally logical order.
TIP & HINT: There is a limit to the number of set-ups that can be employed successfully in any specific scene. After that point is reached the cuts are harmed by sheer chaos to the eyes.
For a chance to ‘see’ a conspicuous example of arbitrary joins — too many set-ups — that produce strong visual illogic, screen the Bus Depot Clerk and Mrs. Watts scene from The Trip to Bountiful.
Medium Shot of Mrs. Watts: From behind, and over the left shoulder of the Clerk.
MRS. WATTS
(putting down her small suitcase)
…just to stand on the porch of my own house again.
Cut to: Medium Shot of the Clerk: From behind, and over the right shoulder of Mrs. Watts.
CLERK
Lady I don’t have anything….
The Eye is Quicker Page 5
