Outside Hollywood

The Power of Teamwork
Posted: March 21, 2009 at 9:46 pm, by Isaac

In late May of 1977, George Lucas was on vacation in Hawaii, partly resting after the grueling production of Star Wars, and partly hiding from the media after its unprecedented and largely unexpected success. There he met Steven Spielberg, who was taking a short break from shooting Close Encounters and had just hit box-office gold with Jaws two years before. It was the beginning of a beautifully profitable friendship.

Between them they claim 8 of the 20 top-grossing movies of all time, including their closest collaboration, a story that they discussed there on the Maui beach. Lucas had an idea to revisit the old film serials, which appealed to Spielberg’s taste for classic adventure. Together, they worked out the rough idea for Raiders of the Lost Ark, and a few months later, they chose Lawrence Kasdan as the screenwriter for the project.

The interesting part is that they recorded their discussions as they worked over the story ideas and had them transcribed for reference. A few days ago, 126 pages of these transcribed conversations appeared on the web. You can read them here or download a pdf file here.

(For those who don’t know, Lawrence Kasdan went on to write The Empire Strikes Back and Return of the Jedi, being given the contract before Lucas had even read his first Raiders draft, and from there began directing his own films, such as the excellent western Silverado and the somewhat less inspiring Wyatt Earp.)

The first part of the story conference is Lucas explaining all the ideas that he, Spielberg and Phil Kaufman had come up with so far. He does most of the talking, with Spielberg occasionally chiming in to correct or clarify certain points. Kasdan doesn’t say much until all the existing material has been covered, and then the brainstorming starts.

For the record, I’m not really a George Lucas fan. I don’t like anything he’s made since about 1981. In fact, my opinion is that from then on, the quality of his work and the clarity of his judgment has steadily declined. More on this later.

So, that being said, one of the things that surprised me is how so many of my favorite Raiders moments came from George Lucas. For example, the red-hot headpiece branding a German so the Nazis get the inscription (although the trick of double-sided instructions came later) is all his – one of the all-time greatest setups in movie history.

The genius of Lucas is evident in the conversations, but not all of his ideas are winners. He continually pours out content as thoughts come to him, and the rest of the group embellishes on the good stuff and moves past the awkward material. In many ways it’s the perfect team – a wild-eyed visionary producer with big ideas, a well-grounded director with a knack for the human touch, and a writer with an unerring sense of structure and simplicity.

Together, they fleshed out the story and characters in an impressively short amount of time. They also came up with a great bit involving Indy retrieving an artifact from a Chinese gangster in Shanghai, an escape from an abandoned plane involving a life raft and a snow-topped mountain, a thrilling mine-car chase, and an annoying child sidekick. These ideas didn’t quite fit, and so of course popped up in Temple of Doom.

It’s fun reading, especially when you see the personalities of the men appear between the lines. For example, when Lucas introduces the concept of the iconic whip, he spends several paragraphs extolling it as a mythological weapon, a parallel to a Samurai sword, a representation of the coiled snake, a deadly force, a hidden power, etc, etc… and all the while Kasdan and Spielberg are tossing out gags where Indy could use it to reel Marion back after she leaves in a huff, or to snag himself beers without getting up. Later, Spielberg points out, “With Nazis you have to use your fists, because they’re despicable people.”

And while Lucas is very verbose, thinking as he talks, often repeating himself, using lots of circular sentences and pontification on multiple possibilities, Spielberg is very precise and an extremely effective communicator. Kasdan’s greatest skill is the ability to quickly grasp nub of an idea and hone it into an effective scene, condensing other ideas and solving problems with elegant simplicity.

When Marion started to get the way, he suggested faking her death, giving Indy further motivation and several scenes where he and Sallah can work alone. When some explanation is needed for why the Nazis take her on the U-boat, he made Belloq interested in her, solving a number of problems relating to the plot and characters.

But the most interesting aspect to me is how they treat the main McGuffin, the Ark of the Covenant. Spielberg sees it as a genuine Hebrew artifact, with Belloq expiring after looking on the face of God. Lucas had a more pragmatic vision, drawing directly from Von Däniken’s Chariots of the Gods, which suggests that the Ark is a transmitter; a radio for speaking to our extra-terrestrial forebears.

The idea that the Ark is merely an electric box is not new, but Kasdan and Spielberg’s choice to go with a supernatural reality that audiences would be familiar with adds depth to the plot, menace to the enemy, and a solid arc to Indiana’s character. The latest Indy adventure, which abandons Biblical artifacts for Von Däniken’s “ancient astronauts” hooey, has none of these things.

Which brings me back to the decline and fall of George Lucas. The man is clearly a creative giant, but his best work is from the beginning of his career, when he was surrounded by peers and even superiors who could filter out his sillier ideas and make him focus his efforts on the solid content. As his fame grew, his peers either moved on or became yes-men, and his financial and technical resources grew large enough to remove even his practical limitations.

The result is enough power (and a sufficient lack of judgment) to push a film like Attack of the Clones through production apparently without even a cursory dialog pass. What he needs is what he had in 1978 when he was hashing out Raiders; guys whose strengths correspond to his weaknesses, who can inspire him with ideas that are as good as his, and who have the objectivity to keep only the good material.

Unfortunately, after 30 years of fame and fortune, Lucas believes all his own PR, so I doubt he sees this need. But we can learn from it.

Color Theory for Cinematographers
Posted: March 5, 2009 at 10:36 pm, by Isaac

At this year’s San Antonio Film Academy, I gave two lectures on three Cs of cinematography, composition, contrast, and color. Color is often overlooked by beginning DPs, and it is an extremely powerful tool. I described color in cinematography as “the use of analogous or complimentary color tones to create contrasts between elements in the frame and communicate emotional ideas to the audience.”

Not a great description, but good enough for starters. Color can be used to communicate information to audiences in all kinds of ways. For example, the storyline in Steven Soderbergh’s Traffic takes place in three different places, each of which is a very different color. Viewers can instantly tell where characters are and what part of the story they are watching. This is a very obvious way to communicate basic information.

Color can also communicate emotional information. Certain cinematic conventions have developed which help with this, for example warm lighting to convey safety and cool lighting to suggest danger are about as standard as shadows to convey mystery and brightness to signify security. Some directors, like James Cameron, stick to these conventions religiously, but others are willing to shake things up.

It can be very helpful to depart from the expected if your film requires it. Spielberg flipped the light=good/shadows=bad expectation on its head for E.T., and Ridley Scott changed all the normal colors rules for Black Hawk Down. Because these films are more complex than say, a standard comedy, forcing the audience to adjust to and rethink the world of the film is very effective.

When we first see Scott’s Somalia it looks like this – dirty, grungy, and brown. A greeny-orangey tobacco-filter brown. This is not the rich golden Africa of Sahara or Gladiator, but a dingy and dangerous place. Diesel smoke makes even the sky grubby. So far, so good.

By contrast, US soldiers live in high-tech steel barracks lit by cool halogen lights and laptop screens. Remember, cinematic convention usually says that warm tones indicate a cosy safe place and harsh blues like these mean cold clinical uncertainty, but not in Black Hawk Down. This color palette is unfamiliar territory, just like Somalia.

When Task Force Ranger goes into Mogadishu they go into the warm, brown, dangerous sunlight and bad things happen. This bright warm orange light is not safe. This is different. The audience has been thrown a curve ball, just like our heroes.

Even the command center has warmer light in it during the attacks than it did previously. The monitors are still blue, so the fill light is cool, but the key light on JSOC officers is warm, like on their men in the field. Command is just as messed up as the operation.

Ever since Saving Private Ryan war movies have tended towards a very desaturated bleach-bypass look, especially for combat scenes (including the opening scene of Gladiator). Ridley Scott and DP Slawomir Idziak have bucked the trend here as well, and it is very effective.

Finally, our men begin to find cover. Inexplicably, the basements of the abandoned slums they hide in have a very cool lighting scheme. Subconsciously, even though this is not conventional color use, the audience knows that they are safer here that outside in the brown. By now, all our viewers have picked up on how the palette works.

As time ticks away the odds get worse, the situation becomes more and more dangerous. Even that deadly warm sunlight is trying to invade the cool blue safe house. Every part of the film, including the color palette, is communicating jeopardy to the audience.

Traditionally, nighttime is communicated on film by desaturation and an ever-present blue moonlight, but once again Ridley Scott has a better idea. Somalian night is spooky green, and the tracers and explosions add orange to the scene. It’s the same sickly warm tone as the daytime, but brighter and scarier. There is no blue here; no safety.

But fortunately, a relief convey is rolling out. The 10th Mountain Division brings bright blue halogen lights to banish the orange and green of danger. By amplifying the saturation of these night scenes far beyond what is “normal,” the audience finds them very unsettling. This is the perfect emotion for what is being depicted.

Up until now, most of the scenes have been almost monochromatic, despite being highly saturated. Only at the climax do all of our colors really collide. These soldiers are pinned between threatening orange fire behind them and the uncertain dark green night in front of them, but safe blue headlights are coming in from the right. It’s final showdown time.

And of course, the battle ends just as the blue light of dawn makes everything safe and secure. The grueling Mogadishu Mile becomes almost a victory lap with this new color palette. The Rangers are back to their normal hue, and all is well… pretty much.

Ridley Scott does a tremendous job with this film through clever color use. It might be a little surprising, since everyone wears the same clothing, all the buildings are the same shade, and a lot of the film takes place at night, but I think this film makes better use of color as a storytelling tool than even Gladiator.

To see how closely color is tied to the events of the film, take a look at the chart below. Brendan Dawes has come up with a great new way to examine the pacing and overall color of films, and here are a few more color charts to look through.

As you can see, since the colors are tied directly to the moods of the film, clear trends are visible as different things happen in the film. We can see the film’s acts and turning points highlighted clearly. I am certain that Ridley Scott and Slawomir Idziak created a color chart like the stripe I made on the right to plan things out, and by analyzing this chart (slightly cropped for clarity), we can see a coherent vision appear.

Color is such a powerful part of cinema storytelling that we should never neglect it. And despite the power of modern color correction tools, we can never leave it to chance or expect to come up with a highly effective Ridley-Scott-style color script in post. All the Cs of cinematography take careful thought and a lot of planning to use properly, but when plotted out, they add a tremendous amount of storytelling power.

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