More on Directing the Actor

Directing the Actor is a two-part class. The first five weeks are built around more of a stage-based approach, and the second five weeks focus on collaborating with the actors in and around your shoot. Anita Addison, a professional film/tv producer and director will be teaching the first section and Myrl Schreibman will be teaching the second.

In Anita's section, each student is to direct two actors in a five minute scene from a contemporary stage-play or screenplay. I have chosen the concluding scene from The Zoo Story, by Edward Albee. I'm directing a couple of undergraduate acting students, David Noily and Jesse Carrion, in the roles of Peter and Jerry, respectively. In my preparation to direct them, I am relying heavily on Harold Clurman's suggestions in his book, On Directing. Mr. Clurman was a successful and prolific stage director and critic in the late 30s, 40s, and 50s. He helped build The Actor's Studio around Stanislavsky's Method approach to acting and directing, an approach still employed by many actors. Anyway, I'm rambling, but he provides some excellent guidance into how to approach a text, and then how to transform that preparation into directing your actors. It is by no means a how-to or a step-by-step book. Instead, Mr. Clurman discusses his own approach, what worked and what didn't and describes how he formulated it. His writing style is a bit dusty and stodgy but there's a ton of wisdom in the book's pages.

I'm meeting with my actors for a second rehearsal tomorrow afternoon and I'm hoping to begin working through some of the character motivations and blocking. I'm a little apprehensive. The actors have a lot more acting experience than I formally have directing, but it should be fun to start playing around with their performance and blocking, to see how different choices effect the scene. More fundamentally, I want to learn more about working with actors. They are the mouthpiece, the representation, the vessel that ultimately delivers the story.

Stylistic Studies: The Best Years of Our Lives

Our first official screening for the Stylistic Studies course was aptly titled "The Best Years of Our Lives", a film directed by William Wyler, released in 1946.

I'm going to try to share my thoughts on all of the films we watch in this course. Department Dean and film preservationist Bob Rosen is the instructor. He's a jolly, passionate lover of the silver screen. He speaks thickly, like John Madden (Kai's association), but with some serious resonance and certainty and knowing. He said that the purpose of the Stylistic Studies course is to help us better understand the connection between story, theme, and audio/visual style of a film.

"The Best Years of our Lives" takes place in a small American town (whose name I don't remember) right after the closing of World War II. It concerns itself with the homecoming of three service men, how they have changed and how their nation has changed. The film really blew me away with its writing and characterization. It avoids cliches at nearly every turn. The character's are particularly rich and complex in their views and relationships, so unlike the typical cardboard arch-types that we're so used to seeing both in the films of the 40s and now. To give you a taste of this, I turn to one of my favorite lines, uttered by Al, a Sergeant in the infantry who has returned home, when explaining that things are not what they seem in his household: "We seem kind of corny and mid-Victorian, but we talk about things."

Visually, the film is always interesting. Gregg Toland served as cinematographer. If you aren't familiar with him, he's the one who shot Citizen Kane five years before, among a great many other films.

I'm having a hard time really getting at the meat here. Part of it is that I'd recommend seeing it and I'm not fond of giving things away, and part of it is that I don't really enjoy writing reviews. I'll leave that up to T-Bone (So please, Theron, see it! Review it!). And part of it is that (big cop-out coming) I'm really pooped and I used up all of my powers of observation and analysis this afternoon in our first Stylistic Studies class, which, incidentally, is really interesting.

Professor Rosen has a completely novel approach to talking about films. He wants us to talk about them in the first person, as if we, the students, were the director. As he says, he wants us to "own it". Not on DVD, mind you, but in our discourse. We must discuss the strategy we used to come up with the image we see on screen as it relates to the story and the theme. Confused? I was too at first. But imagine it as filmmaking in reverse. All of the choices have already been made, and we must assume they have been made for a reason. So, we put on our director's caps, and first imagine that we are explaining to the cast and crew the purpose and import the scene is serving in the advancement of the story. Then, we talk about why we chose the shots that are there and why we constructed the sequence as it is, and then, what we are communicating with them. I'm not only talking about the camera angle or composition, but the entire visual/audible experience, the depth of field, the objects in frame, the movement of the camera and actors, the sound, the score. We must essentially construct a cinematic/storytelling reason for what we see on screen. I'm definitely not very good at it. It requires getting down to brass tax and establishing the simple narrative purpose of a scene, like: "In this scene, Character A is leaving the past behind", "Character B is struggling with his addiction; she has still not completely beaten it", etc. It's a great exercise, and a great new way to look at movies. I'm looking forward to refining and honing these skills.

Orientation Week

The first week has come to an end. The stated purpose was to bring everyone up to speed on the basics of filmmaking. We had workshops in Cinematography, using the Flat-bed editor, Lighting, Sound-Stage Protocol, performing camera tests, operating the Nagra (it's a reel to reel sound recorder). A lot of information and plenty of things that I'd never encountered before.

I think I said this before, but our first two projects, basically the work of this year, must be shot on 16mm film. The school is bankrolling the first one, the parameters of which being: 2 minutes or less, four hours to shoot it (yes, there will actually be a TA on the set with a stop watch timing us from the moment we open the Camera box), and it must be finished by the end of the first quarter. The twist is that we are on teams of 7. Each member of the team of 7 will rotate through 7 roles established by the school. The 7 rolls are: writer/director/editor, Director of Photography, Assistant Director, Assistant Cameraman, Gaffer (in case you don't know, s/he's the dude who sets up the lights), sound recordist, and boom operator. So by the end of the quarter, each of the team members will have served each of these roles once through the 7 projects being created. Further torquing of the lemon peel is that we have no control over who serves which role on our films. In other words, I can't request that Walter, who has been a Camera Operator in the real world, be my DP. It is randomly drawn, and randomly assigned. So, as you can imagine, this requires a great deal of trust on the part of each director, and it also requires motivation on the part of each crew member to perform well, and to be sure they know what they are doing. The person you are assisting is going to be on your crew, so you'll want to give them your best so that they will reciprocate on yours. I think this is a really interesting concept in the degree to which it strips a great deal of the control to make decisions from the director. It certainly incentivizes folks who don't have experience to learn their jobs and bring them up to speed. At the same time, it reminds me a bit of a "cooperative learning" approach that I encountered as a sophomore in high school in which strong students were paired with weak students to study together. The pair received the lesser of the two grades on each assignment. The idea was to encourage peer instructing, but it created resentment on the part of the stronger student toward the weaker student. In a sense, the stronger student was being penalized for something over which he had little control. Now, it is important to point out that the objective of this first project is not to create a great or even good product, rather, it is to go through this process 7 times in 7 different capacities so that we understand the mechanics and process of filmmaking, and develop trust with our cohorts at the same time. A noble goal, methinks, that is sure to be fraught with intense learning, which by it's very nature will be full of mistakes, snafus, and minor miracles. I'm looking forward to it.

I just purchased a book on the recommendation of Kai Barry, a fellow student, called Story by Robert McKee. This is the book that was referenced during the Spike Jonze film Adaptation, by the protagonist Charlie Kaufman as being the well-spring of all of the formulaic crap seen in the movies today. Don't believe the hype! At least according to Kai, it's a fabulous book on story structure, character development, and plot development. McKee talks about principles rather than rules, and manages to discuss a great many quirky or otherwise non-mainstream films in the the context of his principles. Since Nomad, the idea of writing a feature-length screenplay has been quite a block for me. I'd really like to have a couple of screenplays completed by the time I get out of school so I figured I'd start the process now. Anyway, as I go through it, I'll post my thoughts.

I went to the Santa Monica Promenade last night to see the new Sofia Coppola movie Lost in Translation. The promenade is an incredibly energetic place where performance artists set up every half block. It's very reminiscent of Boulder's Pearl Street, only it's even more frenetic: Breakdancers, jugglers, junk-drummers, rock-bands, folk guitarists, clowns, fire acts, and more. I'm looking forward to spending more time there.

Anyway, Lost in Translation was fabulous! I'd rather not say too much about it other than just encouraging you to go see it.

21

A brief disclaimer: my roommate has been watching the standard Monday night line-up on the tube. So if the following is somewhat incoherent, the TV is to blame. I have learned that J. Lo and Ben have postponed their engagement. Johnny Cash and John Ritter have passed away. The California Re-call may be postponed until march. Michael Jackson had a little party where he started a food fight and was covered with cake by the end. Anyway, if you tuned in to ET tonight, you probably already know this.

The past few days have been full of introductions and information. Yesterday, we went to the Welcome Barbecue for the 2003 Directing Students at Professor A.P. Gonzales' house. The journey there was about as exciting as driving the Budget moving van to pick up our refrigerator in the Pasadena hills a couple of weeks ago. Professor Gonzales' house is a gorgeous spanish-style villa in the Hollywood hills. His directions to get there took up the better part of a single-spaced page printed in 12-point font (I'm not exaggerating). Back and forth, one jack-knife after the next, I slowly climbed my way up into the hills on narrow, gutter-less roads lined by dense foliage, wrought iron fences and splendid homes, which stand seemingly impossibly on stilts. The spire of Capitol Records stood out in stark relief against the smoggy background of the sprawling LA metroplex.

The party was packed with new students, ranging in age from 25 - 35, and professors. A. P. was a gracious host and laid out wild rice, a pear roquefort salad, and chicken breasts. He's the department's Vice Chair and has a generous, quiet presence.

Like a diva in the old-school style, Delia Salvi, actor, director, and author made her appearance (She's the one who write Friendly Enemies). I said, "Ms. Salvi, I read your book!" I've never had the opportunity to say this to a published author before. She was tickled and asked me what I thought. "I love it," I said. Perhaps an over-statement. I was just sort of swept away by the excitement of it all. I enjoyed the book and learned a lot, but I don't know if my feelings about a technical book on directing the actor can be qualified as "love". ;)

And then there was Barbara Boyle. She is the new Film, Television, and Digital Media Department Chair. She has a 30+ year history producing such films as Platoon, Instinct, and BOTTLE ROCKET!!! When she said that she is essentially the one who gave Wes Anderson his first chance, I nearly fell over. In my mind, this is her primary defining characteristic. Although, she's been involved with many a great filmmaker. She has a lot of energy and even more contacts. She seems generally excited by her new role of leading a new generation of filmmakers to careers and prominence in mass entertainment. She feels that while the 20th century was defined by "words, the 21st century will be defined by images."

And then there were the students: 21 of us in all. We are the 410s, known for the numeric designation of the Filmmaking Workshop course that will be running across all three quarters. This year, there are 6 women and 15 men, which is not necessarily normal, it's "just how it worked" this year. They range in age from 25 - 35. The majority are about my age though. I think I might have the mean age. Most did not study film as undergrads and most have been out of school for a while doing things as divergent as working for Tivo, taking calls for corporate execs, teaching a course with NYU in South Africa, directing Anime overdubs, and taking pictures for the Associated Press. The group is somewhat culturally diverse: Latinos, Asians, African Americans. Several folks are foreign: one gentleman is from Bulgaria, another from South Africa, and then there's a woman from Switzerland. From a film standpoint, many of the people have had little or no experience in film, one gentleman has directed and acted in the theater, others have made documentaries and DV shorts, and still another gent has been a camera loader and focus puller on major film sets. Quite a few are from the east coast, one hails from Gerry, Indiana (when he said this I began singing The Music Man to myself), there's a woman from Aurora, Colorado, and then quite a few folks from California. The greatest thing though is that in all of my conversations, I've encountered very little ego and a lot of good will among my cohorts.

This week is what they call our boot-camp. Although it really wasn't that strenuous today, we will be learning about all of the film production equipment we can imagine over the next few days. It's great to finally be started. We met today on Sound Stage 1. There are three film sound stages in all and three for television as well. There we were given an overview of the first quarter along with an extensive schedule. It appears that we will be working 6 days a week. Then we were given a tour of the facilities, an overview of the equipment checkout procedures. All the equipment is free to the students. And they have some killer gear. Arri SR3s, Nagra sound recorders, fine Sennheiser mics, tripods, dollies, cranes, and all of the lighting gear you can imagine. The day was finished with a screening of some of the 2 and 6 minute films made by last year's 410 students. There was some interesting stuff. Although, I have to say that nothing really jumped off of the screen. I'm not trying to be a rotten tomato, it's just the truth. It should be said that all of the films we saw were made by first-year students. A. P. has made it clear that the emphasis of this year is process, not product. We'll have years 2 and 3 for product. So given that, the work was decent and original at least.

I have to think of a 2 minute short that I will need to complete in the first 10 weeks of the class. They give us 400 feet of film and pay for lab fees. We only have 4 hours to shoot it. I'm rambling now and I should stop. Let me just say though that A. P., in his introduction, reinforced the idea that his hope for us is to form a cohesive team, to work together, to support each other, to trust each other, and to build long-lasting professional and personal relationships. There are quite a few of the 21 whom I have met that I can totally imagine this happening with.

Friendly Enemies... or I've got a boat load to learn...

I just finished my first pass through Friendly Enemies by Delia Salvi for my Directing the Actor class. Holy Mother! I don't even know where to begin. It seems to be a pretty good book, but I can't help but feeling a little bit overwhelmed and under-qualified after reading it. In writing this book, Ms. Salvi is attempting to give Directors a better insight into the Actor's process, thereby improving their collaboration and relationships and thus their performances. The first part of the book deals with the terminology surrounding the Method Acting approach, which, according to Ms. Salvi, is the most complete and practiced approach to acting these days.

I'm liable to trust her as my knowledge of acting is limited to my two years experience in the Arapahoe High School drama club some 9 years ago. I encountered terms such as Theme, Objective, Conflict, Needs (the "Why"), Subtext, Obstacle, Action, Beat. All of which relate in very specific ways to the actor's performance. I would just like to apologize right here and now to all of the actors I've worked with for Directing for Results. An example of this is: "Okay, John, I'd like you to cry when you say 'I'll never see any of them again'." I am as guilty of this as mud is wet. My only defense is ignorance. See the problem, from the actor's perspective, with Directing for Results is that you're telling them their destination without telling them how to get there. What I learned from this book is that the director ultimately needs to be sort of like mapquest. You need to provide your actors with a route, an approach, without spelling out where exactly they are going to wind up. Your directions must be good enough for them to get there. And if they're not, then you must come up with a different route. And this takes us back to the "Holy Moly! Do I have a ton to learn!" sentiment that I'm feeling right now.

The actor's "instrument" is composed of his/her body, mind, and spirit. Much like a great pianist can coax a whole universe of sound from their piano, so the actor evokes moments of emotional human truth from his/hers. And the director's job is to help them do this. Historically, film directors, for the most part, haven't devoted a lot of time to understanding their actors or working with them, because the machinery of motion picture making is so complex. Rehearsals, which are fundamental in theater, are often not employed in professional film productions. Ms. Salvi's great hope is to bring the actor and the director onto the same team and to redefine the actor/director relationship in filmmaking. I'm really encouraged that the Film Department places such strong emphasis on this relationship and these skills that they would have us take the course, from the book's author(!), right off the bat. After finishing this book, directing actors, and especially directing them well, has been magnified into a much larger responsibility.

I met this actress the other day, Elizabeth Ballard, while waiting in line at the DMV and we had an awesome conversation about a lot of this stuff and she was really excited to hear me throwing around words such as objective and wants and was blown away to hear that UCLA puts such a strong emphasis on directing the actor. Apparently, she's worked on quite a few films where the directors simply didn't know how to communicate with the actors at all and she expressed how frustrating it was. I was thinking to myself, "I'm glad you haven't worked on any of mine". A piece of advice she gave me which was echoed a few weeks before by Kelly, a woman I met at Jeff's wedding who has been an Assistant Director on numerous features was, "Know what you want." Well... here's to figuring that out...

Of Budget Trucks and Traffic Treks

I think we fit about as much as humanly possible into the truck, short of bending space-time. I drove a 15 footer across the country along with our two pups in the cab. We drugged Jupiter as she's not thrilled about moving vehicles, particularly being inside of them. The meds seemed to calm her down a little, although honestly, she was still a nervous wreck: shaking on the floor and then leaping up into my lap whenever the automatic transmission down-shifted. The trek across the country was actually really enjoyable. When I'm really tired I sometimes have a heckuva time staying awake behind the wheel. I found that cranking the AC at such moments was the perfect fatigue elixer. The western plains/deserts between Grand Junction and Los Angeles have an odd sort of beauty. Purples, oranges, and sienna interact in a strange sort of terrestrial train wreck. Boulders smashed into bluffs, limestone and flagstone piles, petrified lava flows, and meteor craters all conspire to fill the witness with a great sense of awe and an even greater hope that the Budget moving truck one is travelling in won't break down. Out there in the midst of that vast splendor, I was happy to be clad in a 15000 lb. vehicle with intense AC and Budget painted on the side. A large debt of gratitude goes out to all of you who so strenuously insisted that I avoid UHaul. The journey claimed many a UHaul moving van. The road sides were littered with these tormented hulks.

After spending a quiet, long night in St. George, Utah, famous for its polygamists, the pups and I saddled up and hit the road again and drove right through Las Vegas without stopping. Like sirens, the city called us in, but my iPod protected my ears from clanging e-major song of the slot machines that seems to pervade every inch of the city. It's funny, I don't really remember much after that point. I was tired of driving and ready to get into LA. We did stop in Barstow for a couple of In-N-Out Burgers, fries and a chocolate milk shake. I was really surprised by the diversity of the clientele. There, I saw Eastern Europeans, Asians, Blacks, and Hispanics all sort of hanging out and dealing together, and the interesting thing was that for the most part they seemed to be middle class. In Denver, race and class are all bound up into one relatively simple stratified bar chart. Race and class seem to be pretty co-determinant. I'm generalizing, but it was interesting to compare the In-N-Out picture to what I've been used to in Denver.

There's traffic and then there's LA traffic. I drove into town on the 10 at the beginning of rush hour. What began as a lighly traveled three-lane freeway quickly became a 5-lane nightmare of slowly snaking reflected-sun-off-of-back-car-windows. Ahh... this is my city now...