Interesting article from filmschoolrejects about the merits of pacing in film. Some might say this is by way of me being concerned that the film I’m making is really pretty quiet, contemplative, and some might say boring … I would say, well, what he says …
Pacing is a tricky thing to pull off in movies. It takes a truly talented filmmaker (and editor) to maintain a rate of movement, events, or forward-moving plotting that sustains audience interest while avoiding the potential to overwhelm. Read the rest of this entry »
Parts 2 & 3 below …
“Mullan shoots this tense, claustrophobic and violent drama in a style that tips a hat to the 1970s tales of Ken Loach and Alan Clarke. But it’s not all desaturated realism: there are flashes of fantasy that hint at the imagination of Lindsay Anderson, as if Mullan had reimagined If… for the hard-up Glasgow of his youth.” Dave Calhoun BFI
… is down to about 35 minutes and it still feels very, very baggy. This is good though, means I can go around tightening belts and bolts and hopefully get it to around the 25-30 mark, which is what I’d expected.
That is all!
It took me so long to get to grips with the rushes, that in the meantime the weather went all rubbish and made filming some extra pick ups and cut aways tricksy. Saturday just gone was the exception though, so at the last minute I grabbed the camera and bombed over to Camber to grab a couple of shots of the house at Broomhill Farm before the sun went.
Nothing dramatic, but it’s lovely to be able to shoot such good looking footage from such a dinky camera, with very little preparation. These stills also show how flexible a location it was too, with the shape and character of the house changing according to which angle it’s shot from.
As I drove up a gigantic Heron lazily took off from a nearby pond and followed the car for a while, something it would have been literally perfect to include in the film, but I’d have had to crash the car and last time I checked, that wasn’t in the script.
This is just one clip from dozens, all hugely insightful.
“What do you do? How do you do it? How do you create it? … in truth you will always find it difficult: the creation of an idea, the following of a story germ, the building up of a plot, the creating of people, of flesh and blood character, these are not easy things. They’re extremely difficult, but conversely, don’t be put off by the fact that this month you can’t do it and next month is maybe even harder. This is, if not a lifetime process, it’s awfully close to it.”
Courtesy of Neil Snowdon
Giving myself something to aim at by way of a deadline, I chose the EIFF, as in Edinburgh Film Festival … not to be confused with the other EIFF … and have noticed a certain pressure creeping up on me.
I’m under no illusions as to the success of this short, it is a short after all, and the baggage that goes along with that (in terms of its lack of ability to make money, it’s limited appeal to mainly industry insiders, the stigma that they’re not a proper film) aside, what defines a short film, and makes it eligible for a festival is a difficult process to navigate.
“Whether I like it or not, or whether anybody else does, when I start a film I have a few ideas. And as you’re getting into it, you think, ‘Ooh, there’s another idea,’ and you’re shooting some more and, ‘Oh, here’s another thing. Let’s do that.’ I’m always changing and adding. That’s just the way my mind works.”
“of numbers, of calculations, where there’s very little time for myths and dreaming.”
“I hate being dragged into genres, I like movies that are full of a lot of conflicting and interesting things,”
“Everything in this business conspires to make you bitter and twisted and tough, … I’ve always tried to keep a toughness on one side and complete vulnerability on the other. To me, if you get a thick skin, you might as well give up directing.”
“I can report that we are a hit in Germany”
This is how you make movies …