Soldier's Daughter was mostly a one-camera shoot. "We had two cameras for the football game scene, but I prefer not to do that; I like to control everything," Fabre maintains. In general, camera movements were kept simple, and were motivated by the action of the actors. "We did mostly slow moves that were restrained in their range."
The setting of A Soldier's Daughter Never Cries is almost evenly split between the family's rambling, expansive, multi-level Paris apartment and a large, charming old house near a bay in the States. All of the locations save for one were practicals, and thus were usually quite cramped. "There was a definite lack of space and access most of the time," Fabre recalls. "The neighbors in Paris did not want us there, and so we could not always erect scaffolds to close off the apartment windows." This was quite frustrating for the cinematographer, as was the fact that the entire shoot took place during the very short days of fall.
The problem with the windows at the Paris apartment was solved to some degree — especially during nighttime party scenes often filmed during the day — by simply avoiding the windows, a strategy which lends a close intimate feel that happens to be entirely appropriate to the story.
Fabre, who is in his thirties, also made a decision to work quickly. "On his last several films, James Ivory had cinematographers who worked a little more deliberately. I thought that the budget and the era of this picture, which takes place during the late Sixties and early Seventies, called for something different — a bit of a speedier approach than some of the other Merchant-Ivory period pieces, which are set so far in the past. James liked that; we got more shots in than we planned, and we were able to integrate more ideas that came to us on the set than if I had worked more slowly." The film crew spent seven weeks in France and four in the States.
Ivory works by keeping a somewhat "distant eye on all aspects on the production, which I think is a good approach," Fabre explains. "He's very respectful of others, and he knows what he wants and how to get others to help him achieve those goals. He gives a lot of responsibility to the people who work with him. He did not dictate to me; he was very confident even though we'd never really worked together before, except for a few days. He does not get involved in silly details."
Ivory concurs, noting that although he shot his first films himself and has always felt he "has a feel for composition," he is comfortable turning over the photography to another person. "I still have ideas on lighting, but I don't like to interfere. We decide on the basic camera position together, but I leave the fine-tuning up to the cinematographer. I want him to be free to create and find new things."
Both of the film's main interior locations offered other vexations in addition to a lack of maneuvering room. The Paris apartment had a lot of white wall space which could not be changed. "I had quite a problem with the white walls," Fabre grumbles. He used flags to tone down the glaring reflective qualities of the walls, but there was only so much he could do. "I'm not very satisfied with the scenes played against those walls," he acknowledges.
The two basic French and American locations also have starkly different looks, which requires some adjustment on the part of the audience. The French apartment is close and filled with dark decor; the light is cool and suggests fall and winter. The colors red, blue and brown dominate. The American scenes has more of a contemporary feel, even though the house is old and the scenes take place in the Seventies.
The American house sits on a small hill and has many large windows that fill the house with warm light reflected from the tall sea grass of the surrounding marshland. The Paris apartment, on the other hand, is an enclosed world which admits very little light. Most of the other scenes in France also take place indoors, while the America-set sequences offer more exteriors.
This contrast worked in favor of the narrative, however. "The sun coming in the windows from outside in the U.S. scenes was in sync with the story," says Fabre. Although Bill Willis's health is falling, the family moves "in hope of finding something more" than they had in Paris, perhaps "better American doctors and more serenity," the cameraman offers.
Another challenge for the cinematographer was the fact that lead actress Leelee Sobieski, 15 years old at the time of production, had to span an age range that took her from pre-adolescent to mature high-schooler. While the filmmakers employed the standard tactics which enable young actresses to age onscreen (such as adjusting makeup, hair and wardrobe), Fabre also played an important role in Sobieski's gradual transformation. "When she is a young adolescent, the age when girls haven't yet started looking at themselves much, I took no special care with her lighting at all. She would get into the lighting that was there and I paid no particular attention to her," he explains. "As she becomes interested in boys, we took a bit more care with her lighting." Later, while shooting scenes that took place after the family moved to the States, Fabre had his cue to start "making Leelee prettier, lighting her like an actress, in a more sophisticated way."
Fabre found that the young actress's somewhat angular facial structure was difficult to light, but eventually learned that a soft front light placed a bit low worked well. "Leelee is very pretty, but a bit of a challenge," he contends. Fabre's lighting ministrations produced stunning results; Sobieski fairly glows in her later close-ups, and the effect strongly bolsters the coming-of-age storyline.
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