|
 |
|
|
 |
 |
|
|
|
|
• • • The first studio film I did (as an assistant cameraman) was Monte Hellman’s Two-Lane Blacktop (1971), which was much heralded in advance of release but maligned by critics after release. To call it a “disappointment” is tantamount to calling former New York Gov. Eliot Spitzer “indiscreet.” But somehow, the film survived vault storage for almost 40 years, and during that time, it came to be perceived as a signature work of New American Cinema. Early this year, The Criterion Collection issued a deluxe DVD of the film, and it looks magnificent — film capture, film finish. The time-honored ritual of film capture, film work print, film contact-answer-and-release print is rapidly fading out. Of the films recognized with ASC nominations for 2007, only There Will Be Blood followed this paradigm. Do you suppose the dramatic sense of depth and grandeur in the luminous release prints was a coincidence? Cinematographer Robert Elswit, ASC, and director Paul Thomas Anderson spoke at length in these pages (AC Jan. ’08) about their decision to stay the course with film-to-film finishing. As digital-cinema distribution becomes the default format for exhibition, fewer movies will be finished on film. The filmout process itself will disappear, and our finished work may well exist only in the digital realm, even if we continue to photograph on film with these pesky, eccentric, mechanical cameras. Why do I believe this might happen? Because of what several post supervisors have described as the efficacy of the “workflow.” That’s a catchword for having a single digital master, the vaunted DI or a video master, for all downstream media — first-run theatrical, DVD, TV, airlines, Internet, etc. It is said to be cheaper, too. Because the financial bottom line seems more and more to be the guiding principle, even as the corporatized studios bask in the glow of quarterly profits, the traditional celluloid chain for film finishing will be broken. In this world, aesthetics don’t much matter. But perhaps we film diehards still have some credibility. At the recent premiere of a film I photographed, I was told that although we would be viewing a film print struck from the negative, the theater regularly exhibits most movies digitally. Our post supervisor was concerned about whether the film projectors would be in tip-top condition for the screening. The projectionist said, “The projectors are fine. We run them all the time; when we have a digital show, we also have a film print mounted because we need a reliable backup.” What does all this really mean for filmmakers? As more movies are finished with DIs and filmouts; as more movies are finished with only digital masters for digital exhibition; and as more movies embrace digital capture, digital finish and digital exhibition, we all become more vulnerable to whatever ideas about storage and migration to new formats that the producing entities choose to adopt. Want to guess how standardized and “safe” that will be? • • • Shirin Neshat is an internationally acclaimed Iranian video artist whose work documents the changing identity of women in Iran. Her recent show at the Gladstone Gallery in New York consisted of two pieces from a larger, ongoing work called Women Without Men. It was shown in continuous HD projection. The format was anamorphic, very unusual for video, and the work was luminous and sensuous. A crawl at the end mentioned Arri and Kodak — film? From one of the world’s eminent video artists? I sought Neshat out and met with her in her midtown-Manhattan editing suite. “So, Shirin, when and why did you start using film?” She looked at me askance. “John, I have always made my work on film; I finish them as videos only because of the gallery projection requirements.” I wasn’t expecting this. I didn’t even need ask the obvious question. “You know,” she said, “I’m not a technical person, but I work on film because it is more beautiful, don’t you think?” She films in Super 35mm. Currently, she is working to meld the series into a feature-length project that she hopes to exhibit on film. Later that same evening, I ducked into my local multiplex to see Cloverfield, touted for its YouTube style of digital photography. (My ASC colleague Michael Bonvillain gave a detailed account of techniques he used in the March ’08 issue of AC.) A warning to Cloverfield ticket buyers was posted at the lobby ticket counter, and at the top of the escalator, and at the entry to the theater. It read something like this: “While watching this film, you may experience nausea and dizziness similar to riding a roller coaster.” Thinking of the sleazy, overwrought William Castle films I enjoyed in my childhood, I figured I could handle it. I was very wrong. About 20 minutes in, I started to feel vertigo and spatial disorientation. The churning camera style and low-rez images — a deliberate, artful technique chosen by sophisticated filmmakers — worked their magic on my stomach. These two anecdotes are symptomatic of the topsy-turvy world of filmmaking today. Who would expect video artists to shoot celluloid and mainstream filmmakers to shoot low-end digital? My point is not to extol one medium in order to demean the other. My own professional history has its own twists and turns, as I’ve moved about freely from film to video. But more than ever, the equipment and techniques available to us, and why and how we use them, have consequences. • • • Panavision was founded in the mid-1950s, and during its first decade, it produced only anamorphic projection and production lenses. Continuing advances in anamorphic design went moribund for years in the 1990s as the company raced to stay atop the crest of the video/digital wave. First came the visionary Panacam, the last great dream of founder Robert Gottschalk, then the reworked and “Panavised” Sony HDW-F900 camera. These camera systems distracted the company from its founding mandate: anamorphic systems. Recently, with something more acute than gentle prodding from a core of passionate cinematographers, Panavision developed two new short-range anamorphic zoom lenses of extraordinary quality. The company is also producing a new set of anamorphic prime lenses. I have no illusions about which way the wind is blowing; I feel it in my face every day as I talk to emerging filmmakers about choices in aesthetics and media. Today, there are many ways to make movies, and some say, “Use it all.” For my part, I will shoot movies on film in the anamorphic format and finish on film as long as I am able. Why? Because there is no video system that is as nuanced and no video system that is truly archival. I hope my friends and colleagues will think long-term about the race to outpace each other in the digital marathon. Whence the goal? Is there some kind of hipness quotient that goes with each embrace of the newest HD system?
|
|
| |
<< previous || next >>
|
|
|
 |
|
|
|
|
