Crewing (I'm really getting through these blogs tonight huh?)

A shoot is stressful enough, but the presence of a crew that listens to you and you know does not take terse direction personally, is well indispensable. There has to be a hierarchy or the project just might implode on itself as decisions are made or not made in that case. But when there is someone in charge, that person has to be knowledgeable and can't show indecisiveness or you'll loose your crew's respect. In addition, you can learn so much from your crew. They all know a few little tricks or techniques that you have never thought of, and their input can make your idea great.

Another important thing to remember when on a shoot where you are the director and how the crew listens to you is how your film subject, if its human, is how they perceive you. People are always more aware than you think and your interviewee or the owner of the location picks up on if you can lead your crew and what that says about you. If you are asking too many questions or just standing around, the subject/proprietor will think you are wasting his/her time in addition to your crews.

You know what, it being Christmas time and all, all you need to know about crewing and directing can be explained through it immortal genius of Charles Shultz and his seminal christmas special, A Charlie Brown Christmas. The special follows Charlie Brown, Lucy, and the gang as they put on the christmas play, and until Charlie grows a pair and starts acting like a director, the play is in shambles.  

Am I supposed to imagine my critics naked?

I think Mike mentioned to me one time, "well, when i hear people explain the problems/tech difficulties they encountered then it's hard to separate yourself from the critiquer and the filmmaker." I wholeheartedly agree with this and it is incredibly hard not to be sympathetic. However, I feel that one of the most useful things to keep in the back of your head through the whole process is and one that was mentioned on the first critique is...the film has to stand alone. It says what it says and you have to live with that. 

Getting the shit critiqued out of you is a new concept for me. I've handed in lab reports, I've gelled plates, I've even sang in front of people, but after any of these, i'm not put on trial afterwords. I wonder how our films would be different if we weren't critiqued afterwards. Would we have made the same film 3 times over? Probably not, but I'm sure we've all learned a lot, and in my opinion, the critique is the most useful part of the process.

I didn't think the hats worked that well, but then I missed the critique workshop (so take what i say with a grain of salt). People seemed to be striving for things to say in regards to their hat, when they should have been remarking on their feelings, likes/dislikes, and their interpretations individually. Because the hats were equally distributed and there were many different kinds, the critiquee was left with a hodgepodge of comments. The negative comments came in the same amount as the positives, so was it a bad film or a good film? Of course, everyone could figure something like that out, but my point is the critiquee couldn't come to a consensus on if the film portrayed their idea because the comments were equally distributed and delegated into categories. To make things less confusing, positive hats could be replaced with a simple thumbs up and the black hats with a rotten vegetable.

But sitting at that table, facing 15 critical pairs of eyes leering back at you with judgement poised on the tip of their tongues, I guess, was the most stressful part of some of my wednesdays. What's more is that you can't talk. And when we were finally able to talk, I felt like a downtrodden housewife who had just Tina Turnered her husband; liberated and free. For example, during the process film critique I just wanted to scream, "if you only knew!!!" Which brings me back to my original point. The 'silent era' taught us how to listen, and we knew if our film could stand alone. So, i'll go on record as saying, "i would be fine with going back to a simpler time. A time where there was less confusion. A time of silence." 

Bird People

I like birds. I don't like to bird watch. I liked my ornithology class. And I really liked my yellow parakeet, Woodstock. I even went to India where there is some of the best birdwatchin' in the world, but I refrained from getting up at 6:00 to go birding with my professors. I had a "life list" for about 6 minutes with 3 birds then I realized I will never look at this again. So my life list was a prestigious club consisting of some very charismatic characters. We had members like the rare chimney sweep, and well I guess just the sparrow (there were two of these.) 

My point is that I know what it is like to fake interest when being with a group of enthusiastic  birders. But maybe, that's why I enjoyed Bird People so much. In my bird watching experience I was too concerned with how much my neck hurt or that, that bird is too impatient and fidgety and I have other work to do. So Bird People allowed me a look into bird watching that I missed while being "too cool for school." 

As a film, Bird People is a sound Science film. And I agree with megan's comment that if we are going to sequester films into fiction and documentary, documentary and science, and even further... science and natural history; then we might need to rethink our labeling system. The amount of real science and Gitlin's characterization of birders blurs the already blurry lines of film genres. Consequently, if you wanna make Walter love you make a film like Bird People. It's been awhile since I've seen it so much of the specifics have left my mind, but I will say that the quest for the ivory billed woodpecker really tied the story together. And that is something to remember with well structured docs. Many of them revolve around an event or a goal-Dave Chappelles Bloc Party, Spell Bound, Word Wars, and although I like him, all of Moore's movies culminate into some narcissistic pilgrimage for some cause.

crew

I am certain that I’ve learned more working with other people while shooting than I ever could just talking about it in class. I feel like every time I film I remember one more thing I should do and manage to forget two others, so having other people around has always been helpful. I’ve never done anything this creative before so watching how other people approach making a movie - where they put cameras, what shots they want to get, the stories people have come up with - has been really interesting and educational. On my second shoot I explained to Federico and Danny what information I wanted in each scene and then they helped a lot (mostly set-up the camera and asked my opinion) on framing it. Between that and working on Danny’s crew for the same assignment I think I became a lot more comfortable with the camera. Before that I never would have thought of setting a camera up on a tripod on top of a counter to get a shot of someone fixing tea or opening a cash register. I had purposefully given up a lot of control on the second assignment, which I didn’t want to do again or I’d never learn, so I’ve forced myself to take control of (at least one) camera on the other two assignments. This meant leaving/trusting others to do sound and lighting, which I found oddly (Megan’s thoughts on group work echo my own) easy to do since I was so preoccupied with the camera. This gets at what could be detrimental to working in a crew - if you rely too heavily on other people’s opinions instead of taking control of your shoot you could loose what you were originally trying to say. Also, if clear instructions aren’t given when you’re part of a crew it can be frustrating trying to but not really knowing where to help. On this last assignment I feel like I asked an awful lot of my crew (Ian and Heather) but they did just what I asked and I realized I would like to work that much on someone else’s film. Since I still feel like I don’t know what I’m doing, I hesitate to volunteer to work with other people and have often just done what has been asked without putting forth my opinion. This is something I definitely have to work on if I’m going to continue to learn.

Criticándonos (Critiquing ourselves)

For me the critiques have been really enriching. While working as a photographer I had had a couple of critique sessions with magazine editors and I must say that I've learned how to digest the feedback I've been given. While editors have to say yes or no, publishable vs. not publishable (they will rarely give you an advice to strengthen your work), I've found extremely helpful having a bunch of people watching my projects and sharing their thoughts. 

I've also found the process of learning how to listen, how to accept and how to do critiques very interesting. At the beginning, when we weren't allowed to talk about our films, it was painful and sometimes "unfair"... I agree that every mistake will always be justifiable, thus making the critique a win or loose jury instead of an opportunity to hear everything that an audiences has to say. I believe that this method will, at the end, emulate that of the real world since we as authors will always be judged and criticized without having an opportunity to reply... Our work will be out there in front of thousands of eyes who won't bother to read what we have to say about the film, they are there to watch it and draw conclusions. It was also good to learn how to listen. A critique can sometimes be taken personally and that is unhealthy for a professional relationship and for one's tranquility. 

Later on the course we did the hat method which proved to be a really good exercise to think and talk about a film in a different way, with different eyes. Facts, creativity, what worked and what didn't work, will always be sources of comments for a further analysis of any text... 

Finally, the presentation of our rough cuts with a short briefing on where the project is at that time and on what is working and what is not, is a way of abstracting ourselves of the film and produce our own critique. For me that is really helpful. Sometimes being so embedded into an idea or so in love with some images may be one of the most difficult issues to resolve. 

It's now clear that abortion may be one of the solutions.

The Bird People

I had hoped to watch The Bird People again before writing this blog, but it's never at checkout...and so the time has come to blog anyway...

To me, The Bird People is a both a science and a natural history film. (I actually question the reasoning behind structuring our genre of filmmaking - "science and natural history filmmaking" - around the distinction of "science" versus "natural history" films. It seems like a somewhat problematic set of labels. For instance, aren't all natural history films also science films? isn't natural history a subset of science?) That being said, films like The Bird People and Roger Tiech's Devil's Teeth and The Man in the Grey Suit fit into our genre of documentary filmmaking (however it is you choose to label it). I guess I'm a little surprised how often we feel the need to apply an additional label - "experimental." These films aren't particularly avant-garde, but because they don't imitate the style of generic natural history films, we label them experimental. We are comfortable calling A Moose Named Madeline (Phil's movie) a natural history film, but we call Devil's Teeth an experimental natural history film. If it isn't cliche, it must be experimental? I don't think it's quite as simple as that, but I do fear that our categories are too narrowly defined. (And, to be clear, I don't think "experimental" is a derogatory term at all...just misapplied on occasion.)

Now that I've gotten that out of my system, here's my take on what seems like the most misunderstood aspect of The Bird People: the strange, deep voice you hear throughout the film is the voice of the birds themselves! They say something like "We watch you, watching us" early in the film...and my favorite piece of bird-speak, "Bodies go in, knowledge comes out!" during one of the museum sections. It makes perfect sense, if you think about it. Gitlin films the birds in such a way that they look like alien creatures, in close-up with weird colors and strange movement. And so, when he gives them a voice, they have a deep, Godly tone.

I first saw The Bird People sometime in 2005. Seeing it then was an interesting experience: Michael Gitlin had come to Cornell Cinema to talk about his film, Cornell's Lab of Ornithology had very recently rediscovered the ivory-billed woodpecker, and I was working in an ornithology lab (doing entomology stuff) and thus strangely immersed in upstate New York birder culture. I was also just beginning to feel disillusioned with the idea of a career in science, and starting to consider filmmaking as an alternative. At the time, I liked the film, but didn't completely know what to think about it. It was one of the only natural history films I had seen that didn't fall into the stereotype. And yet, all the science is there: mist-netting, field research, collecting, comparative anatomy, conservation biology. Watching it again recently, I realize that The Bird People is an incredibly solid film. Maybe it's not as accessible as March of the Penguins, but I think it's quite an achievement to make an artistic film, while still being true to the science and culture of birding.

Working as a Crew

It had taken me a long time to appreciate the benefits of collaboration. Throughout my entire learning life, "group work" has always been a false promise. The same was true in elementary school as was (mostly) true at Cornell University: group projects always meant extra work for me. Teachers, relying on the assumption that a group of people could produce more and higher quality work than a single individual, would have certain expectations for these projects. And so, not only did I have to do my own work, but often the work of several lazy peers. As an upperclassman at Cornell, I finally had more opportunities to work with people I respected and trusted. Sometimes they had had similar notions about "collaboration," and I found it funny to watch our various control freak impulses manifest and then subside as we realized, in turn, that we could actually rely on each other to get things done.

I vaguely remember thinking about these issues of trust and collaboration a couple of years ago...probably when I was first entertaining the notion of filmmaking. I had been conditioned all my life to believe: if you want something done right, you had better do it yourself. But, at long last, I needed to self-analyze and make an attempt to beat down my inner control freak as necessary. It was finally time to figure out who I trusted (and for what), so that we could get together and make something better than each of us could as individuals. And it has been a continual process. I'm much more likely to let (or encourage) people take an active role than I was in high school, for example. But it's still not always easy to recognize exactly when I need to ask for help.

I've had several great experiences crewing this semester. I really wish I had been able to work on more film shoots. Unfortunately, I don't think I'm very good at making myself available. I have too many hermit impulses, and so I'm just not around all that much. But every time I've worked on a crew, I've learned something new...and that's pretty great! I'll just echo a few sentiments that have been brought up by others: I prefer to meet in advance and get some idea of what's going to happen and what's expected; the sooner I know my particular role (sound, camera, etc) the better; technical problems are awful but fairly inevitable, and you need people around to help you work through them.

Working as a crew

Communication is the most valuable thing that I have learned working as a crew. It has been very difficult to express my ideas to others efficiently. Moreover, trying to make your crew happy with all their different personalities is an exhausting process. I think that experience will help in the future when I have to select the people to work with. I have realized that not only we should become good professionals who know how to use the camera or how to record sound, but also easygoing people who can follow directors’ guidelines. Sometimes, I have felt that I had put too much influence in the type of frame the director wanted to use. I would like to be less intrusive in future projects.

Critique

Just as others have expressed - I was incredibly nervous before the first critique. Until then, my creative work had never been judged in a classroom, and I had no idea what to expect. Before watching any of the films, it was only the idea of showing my work to others that gave me butterflies. Once the lights were down and we were about to watch the first movie, I started to worry how my work might measure up against the work of others. My movie was shown near the end of class, and I felt my stomach lurch in anticipation each time a new film started, wondering if was finally my turn. My palms sweat an awful lot that day.

Of course, I was overly concerned, and the first critique was not a terrible experience. I still feel the butterflies in my stomach just as my movie starts, but I look forward to hearing from everyone, and I enjoy finding out what worked and what didn't for each person. At first I found all the contradictory advice and opinions to be somewhat maddening, but I have come to accept it as inevitable. Our individual tastes vary, and each person's viewing experience is unique for a variety of reasons. Now I expect to hear helpful criticism alongside advice that I'll never agree with. I think this relates to the most valuable thing I learned from the Dean's critique workshop: learn to separate the problems from the solutions. Some people will give you a solution, and it's your job to figure out the underlying problem (whether or not you want to accept the proposed solution).

At first, I didn't mind that the filmmaker wasn't allowed to speak during the critique. But I'm very glad we've moved on from that phase! In many instances, I've felt much better equipped to give constructive criticism once I'm clear on the filmmaker's intentions. I also want each filmmaker to be able to raise questions or concerns about his or her own work. I don't care if we talk before or after our movies screen, or if we only speak when a classmate asks a direct question - but I like having a dialog of some sort.

I'm in the minority, but I don't find the hat method to be especially helpful. It's fun and can be a good exercise, but, in general, I think it negatively impacts the quality of the critique session. I don't think it makes sense to force certain people to say good things and others to say bad things. When I was a black hat, I sometimes found myself reaching for negative things to say. If I don't truly stand by my statement, I don't want to have to say something negative about a film. As a filmmaker, I'd much rather hear everyone's honest opinion about my movie, especially since I know that perceptions can vary wildly.

Crew

As other people have been saying, working with a crew can be a little awkward at first but it is worth it in the end. I think it is a balance between control and trust. On one hand, it's your project so you want to be in charge of the camera and the sound and asking interview questions and everything else and it just isn't possible. You have to have a crew you can trust to take care of some of that stuff for you, which is why I think it is good that we are all stuck in all the same classes together because basically we have no choice but to start trusting each other! Shooting for my final project was a great learning experience for me cause while I had a camera, I was also asking interview questions and as a result most of my footage is crap because I couldn't focus on both at the same time. However, I luckily had Federico there with a second camera and his footage turned out quite well. (As it turns out I'm glad I had a camera too just for the sound- Federico's camera was hooked up to mics and for future reference if you are going to have little kids crawling all over your interview subjects while they are wearing mics the sound won't turn out so well.) If I were to do the shoot over, I think I would still have two cameras, but I would get someone else to do the filming while I interviewed. I also agree with Danny's suggestion that the crew should continue to help through editing process- getting feedback from the people that were there with you is hugely helpful, especially in cases like my final project where I'm trying to take the sound from one camera and match it to the footage from another. I think the biggest adjustment to working with a crew is that you have to think about it more like a group project. That sounds obvious but it is easy to say "it's my film, my grade, my project" but in actuality to have a good shoot you have to think more along the lines of our film, our project. I can control some of the decisions, but in the end I just have to trust that whoever I have working the camera or the sound is going to care as much about the project as I do.

crew

the times that i have gone and shot by myself my work has definitely suffered. just having someone there to remind me of simple things - white balance, color bars, sound levels, nd filters, gain - all the shit that can totally screw your shoot if you are not aware of them. i really enjoy working in groups on my films and others - it builds good relations out of class, gives us a chance to see people's creativity, and really it is just fun.

i think what is important is being organized and efficient. this means having all the gear you need, having clearly defined roles for people, having a clear laundry list of shots that you want, and getting those shots in a reasonable amount of time. i think it helps to spell all this out at some point before being on location, although I admit it is hard sometimes because we are still figuring all the stuff out - and the nature of the documentary is that sometimes you just need to film a bunch of stuff and see how it works out later.

i think it would be extremely beneficial to go through the post production phase as a crew as well. i think a lot of the problems we see in editing could be resolved if there was more collaboration in the edit bay.

i think i need to focus on the timing and efficiency of my own shoots and plan them out further in advance so that i am not asking people at the last minute to come out and help. also i think it is important to branch out and work with people that i have not worked with before.

critique

these are getting slightly easier - the critique of my rough cut didn't have me nearly on the edge of anxiety explosion as the previous sessions did - however, it is still something that i more or less don't look forward to. it is wierd because the more nervous i am going into it - the less I get out of it. seriously it is like i don't even hear what anyone else is saying sometimes. it is a great experience however - it humbles, and thickens the skin.

cindy lays it out there and is completely straight forward about our work - which is both good and bad in a way. on the one hand it is great because we don't have to worry about getting softball responses from people trying not to be overly harsh, but on the other hand, i think sometimes a lot of effort goes into making things that cater to what she might like - or at least give a positive response to.

i like the idea of getting to speak before we show our films, but then it sets it up so people echo whatever concerns we may voice about our movies prior to thier screening. however - i do think it is useful to give the class a little context prior to showing. i think the comments that serve the process the best are those that point out mistakes that we may have not noticed: editing issues, sound problems, lapses in the story. i guess these "tech" issues are the best to address.

i don't know if i am getting better at critiques or not. i think i need to watch something more than once to give an accurate measure because too much of the time i will only focus on one aspect - the story, the shooting, the edits, or the sound. i really appreciate cindy and andrew and the whole class for giving honest feedback and pointers about my films this semester.

Working as a Crew

As some of you may have noticed, my first couple films were...not so hot. I worked alone, mostly because of my schedule, but also because I wasn't sure how to approach people about working for me on a shoot. I also feel badly when I can't be as flexible with my schedule to help other people on their shoots to return the favor. From making the portrait of Quinn and working with a crew, I learned that it can be incredibly helpful just to have an extra set of hands, but more so to have a second opinion on a shot, idea, or lighting technique. It is valuable to have other people around to say "Hey, I really don't think this will work because..." Also, I found while shooting my final project, that having people to back you up can also help build your confidence about an idea.
I think the only detrimental thing about having a crew is that you obviously lose some control over the shoot. You can tell someone to get a certain shot, but they may not shoot it exactly the way you would. However, the benefits of having a crew greatly outweigh the costs. As far as my crew member development goes, I could work on a lot of things. Firstly I still need to get more comfortable with the equipment and experiment with different techniques in sound, lighting, framing, etc. I would second Mackenzie in that I also need to have a more solid idea of what I'm looking to do before I get to the shoot (which can be especially tough when showing up to film 100 people dancing in a poorly lit ballroom). Planning the types of shots you want, along with what you want each crew member to be solely responsible for well before you start your shoot makes everything go so much smoother once you get there. I'd say having a solid plan, but not being 100% a slave to that plan is the way to go (it seems you could lose some dynamism if you're too rigid). I'm just looking forward to working with more people in the class, because even if you don't agree completely with what someone is doing, it is really helpful to see a different perspective on how shoots are organized and executed.

Critique process

I am enjoying the critique process very much, specially the method of the color hats. When you are assigned a hat with a specific color, the person that is receiving the critique is not going to take your comments as personal attacks since they know that you are performing a role in that critique method. The most important color for me would be the green. Usually, people make comments about what is nor working and what they like about the film. However, from my point of view, a constructive evaluation that can give you an idea of what could be improved for future projects is the essential part of a good critique process. Moreover, I think that we could be more incisive in our analyses in order to make the person reevaluate the film in depth.

Reaction to the Portrait

Considering I was dreading being interviewed from the moment the syllabus was handed out on the first day of class, I had a surprisingly good experience being interviewed by Quinn! It's not something I'd like to repeat, but it wound up not being as bad as I had feared. I think it was invaluable that Quinn and I are friends. Not only had we already established trust and a rapport, but she knew to ask things that most people wouldn't have (my green smoothies don't often come up in casual conversation...). It also allowed her to jump around a lot and ask me to do quite a few different things. She didn't often have me answer a question multiple times, or ask me to re-state since I knew to rephrase her questions in my answers. Generally, I don't think this approach is very good, but it worked in this situation. Most people need a little time to get used to having a camera in their face. I also think it's very important to allow someone to answer certain questions more than once - it's difficult to answer questions on-the-fly, and, in my experience interviewing people, you often get more thoughtful, better articulated answers the second or third time around. In addition to having better phrased answers, you are given more options in the editing room, so you have the opportunity to make the end result all the more coherent. But Quinn was almost as nervous as I was (which put me at ease, oddly enough), and she was operating the camera in addition to asking questions, so it's very understandable that things happened the way they did. As I already stated, Quinn's approach was perfectly fine for this situation - you just have to gauge your participants and quickly figure out how you need to interact with them. As others have stated, it was interesting to see which clips Quinn chose to use in her film. I was convinced certain things would be included - they weren't - and other things that didn't seem too important at the time made it into her project.

I encourage everyone to watch The Up Series! (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Up_series - don't read all the details on each participant...it will ruin the viewing experience!!) It's absorbing and fun to watch, but it also makes you think about life and the passage of time in a way that I think is very valuable. They are great interview films - lots of lessons in rapport building, what to do, and what not to do. Anyway, I wanted to point out that most of the original "children" participate every seven years, while others drop out for one or two installments, only to return in a later episode. Only one of the participants, Charles, drops out after 21 Up and then refuses to participate in every subsequent installment. Some think it's ironic - I think it's quite significant - but Charles works in documentaries! (For some context, he was an executive producer on Touching the Void.) Anyway, with a few exceptions, I think most of us were pretty uncomfortable to be on the other side of the camera, and many of us hope to never repeat the experience. I don't know why Charles turned his back on The Up experiment, but maybe his career choice of filmmaker represents a deliberate decision about his relationship to the camera. All of us in this program have similarly chosen to be behind the lens. Perhaps this makes us more aware of and less comfortable in front of the camera, compared to those who have not seriously considered their relationship to the camera. Michael Apted, the director, has even offered Charles far more editorial control than he has any of the other participants, but Charles still refuses to return to the project. And as much as I'd love to know his thoughts on the matter, I think his refusal to participate is very understandable.

Crew

I think it's definitely important to meet in advance with the various members of the crew to discuss the overall intention of the film, particular shots, etc... , especially as they get longer. I think we've been pretty good with that as a group though. I like the idea of coming up with a treatment for the crew so that everyone is on the same page. So there would be a one sentence description of the film and then a broader outline of the necessary shots, and then stylistic goals or crew behavior, etc ... I also think it's valuable to spend half an hour testing equipment and checking batteries before going to the filming location.

One is the Lonliest Number

I think working as a crew is crucial in filmmaking. I did my first film alone and it was not pretty. Some traits I realized that are important when working in a crew are if you are the DP to be organized, be able to delegate responsibilities, thank your crew, and being open to suggestions from your crew during your shoot. If you are a crew member then being punctual, flexible, and talking to the DP if you think their idea is not going to work are valuable traits. I think I need to have my ideas in more concrete form before I go out on a shoot as a DP and I need to learn patience when I am a crew member (but that is more of a personal goal that I have been working on for years). I don't think I will be doing anymore solo shoot, because even if it is just a skeleton crew of 2, it is much better than just 1( it is the lonliest number). Another crew member can offer not only a helping hand but input on your overall idea for the film.

Critique

I can often anticipate what people will say about my films in advance, but an equal amount of the time I don't, so what is valuable is that we do it. It's hard to say what is constructive since each person might perceive something different. I think one thing that is helpful is for the filmmaker to be able to say what they were aiming for and then for the critiquers to say whether it worked or not. To me it seems that the critiquers should speak first about what they saw and what worked, then the filmmaker should say what they were aiming for and then for the critiquers should respond about whether the film worked in that way, and what could have been done to make it stronger. Although there could be time issues in that approach.

I think comments that show how the critiquer perceived the film and also comments that would make the film stronger are especially valuable. But we are all still learning so there are these moments where something has gone wrong technically or stylistically and we don't perceive them as filmmakers. Often I find myself catching those moments while editing or part-way through filmming, but often not.

Sometimes I just like to hear what other people have to say because I can't think of anything intelligent to say. Often the problem I have is that I get engaged in the film and I forget to analyze it until the end. It would be nice if we had the time to watch our films twice but that's not going to happen.

Red Hat

The critique process hmm... I would have to say that I have never seen my hands sweat so much as they did the day we had our first critique. It was all so unknown and all I could think was negative thoughts. I could not even read what I wrote down when I was listening to people's critiques of my film. Now being a 3 time veteran of critiques, I am still nervous as I walk up to that wooden table in the front of the room, but now I realize that I am not going to die or should hang my head in shame if no one gets my film. I like the critique process now because it reminds me that not everyone's mind works the same way as mine (thank god) and so I have to make certain changes so that a majority of the people will understand my point. I appreciate the comments when people pinpoint certain scenes that stood out to them as either confusing or crucial in stating my point. I don't think I have quite honed my critiquing skills yet because I think I usually wear a red hat and say what my emotions tell me first. I need to be more analytical in my critiquing comments.

Documentary Shorts

Short format is an appealing approach to non-fiction film, allowing the filmmaker to address smaller topics than would be required to sustain a feature-length documentary. Sadly, this format severely limits the potential of reaching wide or diverse audiences. Short films won't typical show in mainstream theaters, or even most alternative ones, nor on most TV channels. Film festivals, galleries, and art centers are probably still the premiere venues for short film, though the internet, and maybe premium channels, hold promise. Yet even these new distribution methods can only reach certain, limited audiences (for instance, those with internet and time to waste). Furthermore, to become popular online, a video must generally go "viral," a phenomenon that seems to have little correlation to production value or artistic merit.

Successful short films in the festival circuit, as evidenced by these three films, can employ a wide variety of production methods. The most fundamental element of success seems to be selection of material appropriate to the film's short length and niche audience. Festival audiences are likely enthusiastic and willing to engage their minds, as compared to computer-tied college students seeking hedonistic escapist entertainment (e.g. stupid people hurting themselves in viral videos). A successful short documentary seems to take a single, familiar topic, present an interesting perspective on it, and then connect it to a bigger concept. For example, graffiti is familiar, its removal is interesting, and the film connects it (compellingly but perhaps a little thinly) to the larger notion of subconscious art (in fact, it's all right there in the film's title). Another example: asparagus is familiar, its enthusiasts are interesting, and the film connects them to globalization, the anti-drug agenda, and the U.S. political process, which together imperil the Oceana County way of life. These films' short length also means timing is key. They don't have time to draw the audience in slowly; they must have a hook. The Subconscious Art of Graffiti Removal grabs us with a intense score, immediate dramatic intellectualization of graffiti removal, and compelling colorful images. ASPARAGUS displays its zany asparagus people to great effect. Such films must then maintain a deliberate, if not fast, pace. Lose the audience, and there is little opportunity to regain them. Build your film quickly or risk seeming of no consequence. ASPARAGUS is unrelenting, so much so that lines of dialog practically run into each other, yet despite this frenzied pace, it is short and simple enough that the audience has no difficulty processing it in its aftermath. "Viral videos" represent an extreme case of this principle, where there is virtually no development, simply premise and immediate payoff.

As compelling as short films can be, a paradigm shift is necessary for them to have impact comparable to feature-length documentaries (this is ironic, given the time constraints of most participants in modern society). Festival- and gallery-goers will likely remain niche audiences, though perhaps valuable proving grounds. The corporate stranglehold on TV leaves little hope there (though it seems to be embracing the "viral" revolution). Alternative-format theaters would be an exciting development, but would require quite a grassroots movement to penetrate beyond large-city markets. On this side of the digital divide, the internet appears to be the last best hope, but it must eventually cater to more sophisticated, less tech-savy audiences. Ultimately, short documentaries run into the same battles faced generally by filmmakers working outside mainstream conventions (e.g. subject matter, production methods).

The critque process and me

Ah the critique. At first the critques made me extremely nervous. Because I didn't feel at all comfortable with the films I had made, it was like I didn't even want to hear what people had to say about them. Since I made one whole film that wasn't terrible by my own standards, I'm still working on being able to accept critiques without getting upset about it.
I think Quinn and Krystin are right that the hats work well, but with less structure than having every single person assigned to a hat color. It is so frustrating to be a white hat and not be able to say anything positive, negative, emotional, or constructive. If we had more time for critiques they multi-colored hat approach might work better, but assigning positive and negative seems to be the best option. I like knowing that at least something positive will be said. There was one week when it felt like all the comments were negative, and it didn't motivate me or make me want to do better next time...not a great feeling! I like comments that address really specific things about a film, like the size of a certain shot working, and possibly bring in solutions or advice that could make the film better. It also helps when you try to buffer a negative comment with something positive. I think I'm getting better at receieving critques but it can be difficult to think of creative solutions for others' films, especially when we watch so many at once.

Being Interviewed

It was definitely awkward to see myself on screen, but I think it was actually more embarrassing to hear my recorded voice. I think I sound like I'm 12.
I know from making the film about Quinn that it's hard to decide what to include and what to leave out, and how to weave it all together. I tried to pick the parts of the interview that stood out to me as things that really represent what Quinn is all about. I did have to piece sentences together when Quinn actually didn't say things in that order, which I know can be a slippery slope, but I tried to keep her intentions clear and accurate.

Federico had a great idea to interview me from the perspective of one of my tutoring students, but I didn't really think the product represented who I am as a person, and instead focused on facts about my life. I think maybe some different, more in depth questions might have worked better. Also, it seemed strange that I didn't look at the camera the whole time. Perhaps if the camera was placed in the perspective of the student, and I could look into it, the idea would have come across a little better.

Bird People

Sorry guys, a little late on this one.
I didn't think the many narrative threads of The Bird People came together to form a cohesive whole, and on top of that the message of the film was off. The birdwatchers were interesting, and knowing many birders, the film gave a pretty accurate description of what they're like. Awkwardly shooting close-ups of their faces after they had finished talking gave the impression that we were people watching, or turning the tables on them. The director attempted to weave in a story about the ivory-billed woodpecker and its collectors. Then suddenly, there were these shifty 16mm shots of various birds, coupled with crazy narration, such as "the absence of proof is not proof of absence." Weird. At this point I started to think that this film was going in too many directions.
The director also chose to examine a bird banding operation, in which the researchers explain why they do their studies. The point is probably that bird watching and bird banding are O.K., but that bird collecting is not. So why is there a segment of bird calls, interpreted by birders in their usual way? I have no idea, other than that it was adding a bit of humor. The director did allow the ivory-billed woodpecker collectors to explain that the collection of a large number of specimens is necessary for accurate scientific analysis. The search for the woodpecker didn't seem to fit in with the purpose of the film.
Overall, I think there is hardly any science in the movie, so I wouldn't classify it as a science documentary. It seemed more to be a critque of greedy bird collectors who wanted to get one of the last of a species that was going to become extinct because of habitat destruction anyway.

It could have been me.

The first thing that struck me of the Birdpeople is the easiness with which Gitlin makes birders look weird and silly(?). When I was studying biology I was a strong birder and never felt funny or pictured myself as the awkward-looking birdwatchers from Central Park. I even used the jargon to point where a bird is or to describe a vocalization... in short, I could have been on the screen. And there is nothing wrong about it, it's just that The Birdpeople made me think how biased, in a good or "bad" sense, a documentary can be. It depends if the director knows or doesn't knows the subject he is examinating and representing.

Good bias would be being objective (broad) when addressing a subject; this reminds me to Elliot's advice in which acting ignorantly can get you a lot more useful information and or footage. It's good to remember that, for some people in the audience, our film might be the first time they are seeing the subject. However, "bad" bias, for example, would be me making the Birdpeople. Since I am inside of the subject I would probably take for granted a lot of things that might be interesting about my strange community. I would probably leave aside what makes us different and just try to explain what we do and why we do it. It seems that I would justify the acts of the birding community instead of representing them as they normally happen. Perhaps this is the reason why some people got bored...

The birdpeople can be boring because for some people bird watching, and it's little meanders, is  boring. In the documentary this point was clear; various examples of passionate bird lovers were particularly depicted: field work, amateur and scientific birdwatchers, museum collections, natural history, etc. At the end, all seen through an off-centered lens that inflicted a whole new perspective to the behavior of birdwatching.