This tutorial is an oversimplified yet quick way to make a shatter-like text explosion in Vegas. Once you get the technique down you should be able to run with it.
A lesson in film editing with Albert Brooks, Bruno Kirby. from the film “Modern Romance.”
by Steve Kaplan
Let’s start off with a test. A Comedy Perception Test, to see if we’re perceiving comedy with 20-20 vision.
Below are seven sentences, seven word-pictures. They don’t mean anything other than what they are. There’s no back story. Read them carefully.
A. Man slipping on a banana peel.
B. Man wearing a top hat slipping on a banana peel.
C. Man slipping on a banana peel after kicking a dog.
D. Man slipping on a banana peel after losing his job.
E. Blind man slipping on a banana peel.
F. Blind man’s dog slipping on a banana peel.
G. Man slipping on a banana peel, and dying.
So, you have these seven sentences, word-pictures that contain no hidden meanings or narratives. Now answer these four questions:
Which of these statements is the funniest? The least funny? The most comic?
And which one is the least comic?
Now, one of you might be thinking to yourself, “Comic and funny – isn’t that the same thing?”
Excellent question, thanks for asking. But just for now, let’s stick to selecting which one you think is the funniest, the least funniest, the most comic and the least comic.
Let’s start with the funniest. Which one did you pick? A.) Man slipping on a banana peel? How about C.) Man kicking a dog or D.) Man losing his job? (OK, that one only a boss could find funny.) Was your choice E.) Blind Man? (And if it was, shame on you! You’re sick, you know that?)
So, which did you decide was the funniest? The answer to which is funniest is, of course . . . you’re right, no matter which one you picked! Don’t you feel affirmed?
You were right because the difference between what’s funny and what’s comic is that funny is subjective. If you’re laughing at it, to you, that’s funny. End of story. End debate. Period. If you’re laughing at it, it’s funny to you. And by the same token, if you’re not laughing at it, no matter how learned a review in The New Yorker, to you, it’s not funny. I have a three-year-old nephew. And if I took my keys and started shaking my keys, I can make him laugh. So to him, that’s funny. But would you give me $600,000 against a million option to buy those set of keys?
One of the biggest mistakes that writers make is they’re worried whether the script is funny or not funny. But funny, as we’ve said, is subjective. What comedians will tell you is that you can’t live or die by whether this person or that person laughs. You have to do your material and just trust that it’s creating a comic picture, a comic portrait, and that comedy is not predicated on how many jokes there are on the page. The worst sitcom you can think of, the worst comic movie, the worst RomCom, is chock full of moments that they’re trying to make funny.
So what’s comedy? In my seminar, we watch a lot of comedy clips, but one of the most important clips we watch is from a daytime soap opera. When I show it, occasionally people laugh. Taken out of context, it’s pretty funny. OK, it’s very funny. But why would we want to watch a soap to learn about comedy?
Here’s the thing: Everybody involved in this – as writers, directors, actors, designers and craftsmen – is usually dedicated to not making you laugh. So I think it’s instructive to pay attention to what they are doing and the choices they’re making. Take a look at almost any soap scene. The first thing you have to notice about people in soaps is that they’re more than just good-looking, they’re almost supernaturally attractive. People like this just do not exist in nature. And the combination of writing, directing and performance is designed to communicate a specific set of qualities. Even when the behavior is extreme, i.e. adultery, murder and deceit, the staples of daytime drama, the actors rarely act in an inappropriate manner, such as that would tend to mock the characters. The actors playing the characters are subtly saying to us: Look at me, look how sensitive I am, how much I’m suffering, how deeply I feel, how intelligent I am. And I’ll turn to the women in the audience, and I’ll say, “Ladies, is this what your significant other is like?” There’s often a big laugh because obviously, they’re not.
The point is that drama helps us dream about what we can be, but comedy helps us live with who we are. Comedy helps us live with who we are because while drama idealizes man’s perfection and the tragedy of his falling short, comedy operates secure in the knowledge of man’s imperfection: insecure, awkward, fumbling unsure – all the core attributes of comedy. Doesn’t this really describe us all? While drama might depict one of us going through a dark night of the soul, comedy sees the dark night, but also notices that, during that dark night, we’re still wearing the same robe we’ve had on for a few days and eating chunky peanut butter out of the jar while sitting and watching Judge Judy. It’s still a dark night, but one that comedy makes more bearable by helping us keep things – like our life – in perspective.
Comedy tells the truth, and specifically, it tells the truth about being human. A comedian is simply the courageous person who gets up in front of a group of strangers and admits, confesses to being human. In that if you have the courage to tell the truth, and mostly the truth about yourself, and the truth about the crazy things that you do, and the crazy way that you see the world, then you have a good head start in creating comedy.
So what’s comedy? The paradigm of comedy is an ordinary guy or gal struggling against insurmountable odds without many of the required tools with which to win, yet never giving up hope. It can almost be stated as an equation: An ordinary guy or gal – Jackie Gleason used to call him a moke – struggling against insurmountable odds, without many of the required tools with which to win, yet never giving up hope.
From this paradigm or equation, we can draw usable, practical tools, what we call the Hidden Tools of Comedy.
The tools are:
3. Positive (or Selfish) Action
4. Active Emotion
5. Metaphorical Relationship
6. Straight Line/Wavy Line
First there’s the tool of Winning. Winning is the idea that, in comedy, you are allowed to do whatever you think you need to do in order to win. Comedy gives the character permission to win. In winning, there are no “shoulds.” Even if it makes you look stupid, you can do what you think you have to do in order to win. You’re not trying to be funny, just trying to get what you want, given who you are.
Next is Non-Hero. Non-hero is the ordinary guy who lacks some, if not all, of the required skills with which to win. Note that we don’t say comic hero, but a non-hero. Not an idiot, not an exaggerated fool, but simply somebody who lacks something. Or many things, but is still determined to win. The more skills your character has, the less comic and the more dramatic the character is. This is how you can shape the arc in a romantic comedy: in the romantic moments, the heretofore clumsy or obnoxious hero becomes more sensitive, more mature. Don’t believe me? Take a look at Bill Murray in Groundhog Day.
Positive Action, or selfish-action, or hopeful action, is the idea that every action your character takes, your character actually thinks is going to work, no matter how stupid, or foolish or naive that might make him or her appear. It also takes the nasty edge off characters such as Basil Fawlty in Fawlty Towers or Louie DePalma in Taxi.
Active Emotion is the idea that the emotion that occurs naturally in the course of trying to win. The emotion that is created simply by being in the situation is the exact right emotion to be having.
Metaphorical Relationship is the tool of perception. It’s the idea that beneath every surface relationship is a true, or essential, metaphorical relationship. Each character perceives others around him, and the world itself, in specific, metaphorical ways. Think about the couples you know. Some fight like cats and dogs, some coo to each other like babies and some are like business partners: “OK, I can’t have sex with you this Thursday, but if I move some things around, I might be able to squeeze it in Sunday afternoon, barring no further complications.” Even thought they’re a married couple, their metaphorical relationship is that of nose-to-the-grindstone business partners. It’s Oscar and Felix, two middle-aged divorced roommates, acting like an old married couple. And it’s Jerry and George, sitting in the back of a police car, acting like kids: “Hey, can I play with the siren?”
And last, but not least, the tool that challenges the conventional view of comedy: Straight Line/Wavy Line.
John Cleese once said that when they started Monty Python, they thought that comedy was the silly bits: “We used to think that comedy was watching someone do something silly…we came to realize that comedy was watching somebody watch somebody do something silly.”
There is the mistaken belief that in every duo there’s the funny guy and the straight guy. In “Who’s On First?” it’s obvious that Lou Costello, the short, fat, roly-poly bumbler is the funny man of the team, whereas tall, thin, severe Bud Abbott is the straight man. This misconception misses the essential truth about comedy-that it is a team effort, where each member of the team is contributing to the comic moment. The real dynamic is that of watcher and watched, the one who sees and the one who does not see; the one creating the problem and the one struggling with the problem. Think of Kramer in Seinfeld. The comedy isn’t just watching Kramer behave in his typically outrageous fashion, the comedy requires Jerry or George or Elaine to watch it in bemused amazement. The tool of Straight Line/Wavy Line recognizes this. It’s the idea that not only do we need someone, some funny person, to do something silly or create a problem, we also need someone who is acting as the audience’s representative to watch that person do something silly or struggle to solve the problem that has been created. The other character might not be as verbal, might not be doing the funny things, but because the other character is also a Non-Hero, he or she sees the problem, but doesn’t have the skills to solve it. The Straight Line creates the problem, like he has blinders on, and is actually blind to the problem or is creating the problem themselves. The Wavy Line struggles, but is unable to, solve the problem. So what the Wavy Line does more than not is simply doing a lot of watching. Watching without knowing what to do about it, so there’s confusion. There’s consternation. Whereas the other characters are doing something – as John Cleese would say – silly. And it’s that combination that creates the comic moment, as opposed to somebody simply getting hit in the face with a pie.
With these six hidden tools, we can begin to unlock the secrets of comedy.
For almost 20 years, Steve Kaplan has been the industry’s most respected and sought-after expert on comedy. In addition to being a regular consultant and script doctor to such companies as Disney, Dreamworks, HBO, Paramount, and others, Steve has taught at UCLA, NYU, Yale, and other top universities, and created the HBO Workspace and the HBO New Writers Program teaching and mentoring some of the biggest writers, producers and directors in comedy today.
Source with permission: The Writers Store
By Jon M. Garon
Gallagher, Callahan & Gartrell, PC
The challenge for the film producer is that potential distributors may have different goals regarding the marketing of the project. If the pre-release campaign does not work, the failed marketing will add an additional impediment to the sale of the film. In essence, the independent producer needs two hits; she must bank on both the quality of the film and the quality of the campaign in order to attract distribution. If the marketing approach is successful, however, and a large following has been built for the production, then it should be less expensive to promote and therefore attract more potential distributors.
Once the production finds a distributor, the locus of control will switch to the distributor. The typical distribution agreement will require total transfer of any copyrightable material to the distributor for the term of the agreement in all media, including the Internet and all social media. Although the term “social media” and its components (such as blogs, tweets, posts, etc.) are not yet typically described in these agreements by name, the contracts utilize the concept of all media now known or hereafter created which sufficiently cover these evolving technologies.
Producers hoping to control their film’s marketing campaigns throughout distribution must be much more explicit in terms of their plans. The agreement between the producer and distributor should specify which of the companies will pay the costs of the Derivative New Media Productions and be responsible for the payment of the residual fees. The agreement should also identify which company will be posting the content and managing the content online. The distributor will expect that the producer has control over all content involving the production and media surrounding the production.
As a result, blogs, tweets, websites and other material based on the content of the production which has been created by cast and crew during the shoot may be considered part of the material that the distributor acquires as part of the distribution agreement. (Comments about life on set and other personal tweets and blog entries should not be said to fall within these standard agreements.) If the producer has allowed this material to be created by cast and crew without any control or oversight, there may be a problem between the distributor who believes the contract assigns it exclusive ownership of this ancillary content and the individual creators of the material who may not consider it to be within the scope of the employment agreements they signed.
Also important to productions utilizing social networking is the obligation to police the use of the content by third parties. While it is naïve to expect that any company can successfully remove all content from the Internet that was once lawfully posted but no longer desired, the duty to take down the company’s own material and request removal by other companies should be specified. This difficulty is one of the topics unfortunately not dealt with in the collective bargaining agreements regarding New Media Productions. The contracts provide for residuals based, at least in part, on the number of weeks particular material is posted to the Web. Such methodology ignores the viral nature of the Internet, the ability of the curatorial audience to collect and repost this content, and the diffuse control inherent in online communities. A more realistic definition would set the number of weeks as based on the producers or distributors own websites and that content which is directly under the contracting party’s control. Unions, however, may legitimately fear that this would encourage producers and distributors to actively encourage the theft of this content so that the content would be posted in a residual-free manner. At the moment, this ambiguity remains yet another potential trap for the unwary producer.
The control over the Derivative New Media Productions can create problems in other ways as well. Film distributors generally require a guarantee that the material is original. The delivery requirements for a typical film distributor will provide that “[n]either the Picture nor any part thereof has been released, distributed or exhibited theatrically, non-theatrically, by means of television or by any other medium in the Territory, nor has it been, and it will not be, banned by the censors of, or refused import permit or entry into, any part of the Territory.” If material has been distributed online, however, during the production, then that material will fail to meet the obligation that it has not been previously seen.
The best way to anticipate this problem will be for the producer to collect all the material that the production company has posted online and include that material, along with a written index, as a set of exceptions to the originality provision of the distribution agreement. A producer should not sign the distribution agreement if she knows that the production company is in breach. By adding a list of exceptions to the obligations, both parties to the agreement understand what has occurred prior to the film sale. If too much material has been distributed or if the distributor does not like the material distributed, it may lead to the distributor refusing to buy a film, but this is much better than the producer finding that she is in material breach of the agreement.
An additional wrinkle may be caused by the contractual obligation to deliver a film that meets a certain MPAA rating. The Classification and Rating Administration (“CARA”) operated under the MPAA regulates both the content of motion pictures and the trailers which are shown before films. Green Band trailers are rated “G” while Red Band trailers are rated above that, typically “R.” Historically, theatrical exhibitors would not show Red Band trailers, even before R-rated movies. Some distributors have elected to use the Internet to avoid the discomfort of the exhibitors, which is putting increased pressure on the exhibitors to allow more Red Band trailers. Other distributors, however, are not so comfortable with this strategy. Moreover, the decision to post unrated material prior to the theatrical release may run afoul of the CARA rating system and further frustrate the expectations of the distributor. Again, the danger is not in the strategy so much as adopting a strategy without a clear understanding between producer and distributor.
If the standard agreement is signed without having discussed these topics and modifying the form agreement, legal liability may attach for content the producer is using online. Equally important, however, is the recognition that fear of this liability may lead to underutilizing the tremendous potential for audience development. To maximize the opportunity for the project, the producer and distributor must agree in advance on the curatorial audience development strategy, including the amount of material which will be posted, the various technologies to be used, and the impact such material will have on the rating process. If these steps are taken, the production will maximize its chance of building an audience.
The Never-Ending Final Cut
At the other end of a motion picture’s life cycle comes the increasingly common phenomenon of alternate cuts. Billboard reports that the practice of simultaneously releasing two or more versions of a video release began with an unrated director’s cut of The Lawnmower Man in 1992. Up until that point special edition versions of a movie were released “subsequent to [the] regular home video release.” Throughout the early 1990’s other distributors also expand the use of NC-17 or unrated versions as part of their video release. With the ability to market unrated versions of movies on the Internet, the practice has grown increasingly popular.
The continued improvement in technology will lead to an increase in the amount of editing that can be done by the filmmaker after the movie has been released. Third party software can be legally used to skip select content on a film. Though not specifically allowed under the Copyright Act, it may also be possible to add additional material and program the playback device to incorporate this new material into the version presented. Undoubtedly, if a party were to create an unauthorized version of a film with additional material, that new work would be an unauthorized derivative work, constituting copyright infringement. If instead, the new material were never added to a copy of the original work and were available only for home viewing and not for public performance, then a legitimate question remains whether or not the composite private performance is also an unauthorized derivative work.
The question may be more than theoretical. The distinction between narrative film and video games is eroding. Software exists to create composites of materials from various files on a computer hard drive or hosted on the Internet. All that remains is an innovative artist to create video mash-ups that integrate material destined for new versions of the work into the original work. If the creative artist building this model is the producer, however, the distribution agreement would need to be significantly modified. These inserts would likely be covered in the material assigned to the distributor, requiring the distributor’s acquiescence to build such an enterprise.
If the producer and distributor were both agreeable, then the use of this technology could enable the participation of the audience in creating content to be uploaded and integrated into the content already produced. Such an integration of audience content with professional content would create a new genre of material, essentially a form of motion picture fan fiction. While such a new medium would require careful negotiations with the trade unions and creators involved in the project, the potential is tremendous.
A second variant on the never-ending story is the continuation of story-lines using web-posted vignettes and other short projects created as derivative works from the original. These Derivative New Media Productions are the primary focus of the collective bargaining agreements and likely to be exploited by a growing number of production companies. These additional vignettes or webisodes may be created by the original film producer or the content owners may encourage fans to create their own related content. These producers encourage the audience to stay involved with the characters, to expand the scope of the story, and to legitimize fan fiction in a variety of media. Nonetheless, to be successful, these webisodes will still require a good deal of time, effort and creativity to be successful. The most popular of these projects will enhance the brand.
As the line between marketing and original content further erodes, producers and distributors can exploit the natural behavior of the curatorial audience to assist in content distribution. At the 2009 Comic-Con, for example, producers of the ABC television show Lost staged live-action skits to accompany the webisodes they aired at the event. The producers fully expected the panel to be filmed by news outlets and audience members and posted on YouTube and other sites across the Internet. The webisodes and live-action content engaged the live audience at the panel, which in turn deployed a powerful distribution army after the event. The goal, as the producers explained, was not to find a new audience, but to keep Lost relevant to the audience in its final season. The model highlights the importance of maintaining an affinity relationship with the audience; not merely introducing new content.
This is part of a series of book excerpts from Independent Filmmaking, The Law & Business Guide for Financing, Shooting & Distributing Independent & Digital Films designed as an introduction to the many legal issues involved in the filmmaking process.
Rodriguez is calling this his “Illegal” trailer. Taken from “Ain’t it cool”, and advised to spread it everywhere. I wonder if this is going to cause any controversy?
The highly skilled Federale Machete is hired by some unsavory types to assassinate a senator. But just as he’s about to take the shot, he notices someone aiming at him and realizes he’s been set up. He barely survives the sniper’s bullet, and is soon out for revenge on his former employers, with the reluctant assistance of his old friend Cheech Marin, who has become a priest and taken a vow of nonviolence. If you hire him to take out the bad guys, make sure the bad guys aren’t you!
How do you add instant drama to your scenes? Rain and sappy music of course. Using some wood, rope and a garden hose Erik from IndyMogul shows you how to make a “Hollywood rain machine” for less then $50 bucks.
Full build plans: http://www.indymogul.com/post/1623/
This do it yourself snow maker uses compressed air and water. It is mixed internally and then comes out a small hole in the nozzle. The temperature needs to be below freezing to work, but it could be useful on those cold locations where Mother Nature doesn’t want to cooperate with your winter scene.
Originally airing on England’s Channel 4 TV, The Godfather And The Mob reveals the true life story of murder, mafia and mayhem that occurred behind the scenes of the most iconic gangster film ever made.
When plans were revealed to turn Mario Puzo’s bestselling novel into a film, the mafia claimed The Godfather to be anti-American-Italian and attempted to stop the film being made.
by Tony Levelle
How do you make a documentary when you have no script? I was faced with this problem when I shot my first unscripted documentary for a class in documentary filmmaking. We had the assignment of making an 8-12 minute unscripted documentary. I started by visiting a friend’s farm and shooting some footage. I quickly filled up 3 one-hour tapes. Wanting to make extra sure that I had enough footage, I shot more, and more, and more. I ended up with 30 hours of tape.
Unfortunately I had a day job, and no time to log, much less edit all of it. In desperation I hired another friend, an editor, to look at all the footage and choose the three “best” tapes. Meanwhile, I was off at my day job, writing technical books for an Internet company so I could pay the mortgage and feed the family.
It was clear to me that I needed a better way to go about making an unscripted documentary. Filmmaker Dorothy Fadiman has been making successful unscripted documentaries for 30 years. I asked her how she did it. She began by telling me of how she made the award-winning documentary Why Do These Kids Love School?
My videographer, Peter, and I chose to spend our first day of shooting in the schoolyard of an alternative school. We were ready to record whatever happened.
Peter waded into a group of twenty nursery school students. Soon the children forgot about the camera. He filmed as they screamed with excitement, dunking fat brushes into cans of paint, bristles dripping with thick wet color as they painted their climbing equipment, and sometimes each other.
I didn’t need to tell Peter what to shoot. He knew, intuitively, how to spot “the action.” I watched as he followed a little boy with golden curls who was starting to cry. The child ran over to his teacher to tell her he was sad. She leaned toward him to listen.
As Peter came closer, the camera microphone picked up the little boy’s words, “John splashed paint in my ear.”
The teacher asked, “Did you tell him you didn’t like it?” The boy shook his head “No,” then turned toward the other little boy, who was now far across the schoolyard. Peter followed as the boy toddled over to the other child.
The camera microphone picked up his voice as he announced, with determination, “John! Don’t splash paint in my ear!”
Later, during an on-camera interview the school’s director told me, “We don’t label children’s behavior as good or bad, we look at what’s working and what isn’t working, and that makes sense to kids.” Her statement explained why no one was reprimanded in the paint-splashing episode. When edited together, the interview and the unplanned paint-splashing episode graphically illustrated the school’s approach to education.
Capturing the story in unscripted moments
Some filmmakers write a treatment, proposal and script before they begin shooting. Fadiman’s approach is different. After some initial background research, she assembles a crew, contacts interviewees, and starts filming. She watches each day’s footage, chooses the best clips, and allows the film’s story to emerge.
She says that the key to this approach is to be ready for moments that can become the heart of the story as you are filming.
Fadiman cautioned that the absence of a blueprint does not mean grabbing the camera and running out to shoot whatever you see. She said, “It means, instead, finding a good idea; doing background research and putting together a supportive team; then, once you start shooting, opening yourself to the direction suggested by what you see and hear. This is how you allow your footage to tell you where to go, instead of following a predetermined script.”
Fadiman’s scripts develop gradually, in the editing room, as she chooses the best clips and rearranges them–all the while slowly building her movie.
When Fadiman holds Producing With Passion filmmaking workshops, the first question that people ask her is often, “If I don’t have a script, where do I start?”
Begin with an overview
She tells her students to begin by writing a one-sheet description of the project. This description will not be perfect or final, but it will set the filmmaking process into motion. Briefly sketch your themes, story, characters, and the filmmaking style you would like to use. (A good way to start choosing a style is to list the names of a few existing films that use a style that feels right to you, for this film.)
After you’ve written the one-sheet description of your intended film, ask yourself:
Think generously of people you might talk with. Make lists of whoever comes to mind. Some may be friends, and some may be strangers. You do not even need to know names. You can simply list them by position or title.
Name people who you think will know whatever it is that you want someone to talk about. Don’t be shy, just free associate. As you make this list, choose people who intrigue you or who are experts. Be bold. Add to your list “the best authorities in the field.”
Even if you don’t interview these people, you will still need to know who they are. You may want to read their books, articles, or writings they’ve posted on the Internet. Include famous people, even if you don’t think there’s a chance in the world that they’d have the time or interest to talk to you. You never know, you might be able to get them. Even if they don’t agree to appear in your film, they might act as consultants or write a blurb for your film.
Where would you like to shoot?
List the locations and landmarks that seem essential to your idea, as well as places that excite you. In every film, there are places that define the characters and the story. If you can film these places, they will give your project depth and power.
In the classic documentary Man of Aran (1934), filmmaker Robert Flaherty used the turbulent sea and rocky coasts of the Isle of Aran to define the lives of the people who lived on the island. The stark beauty of the island illustrated the strength and spirit of the people who lived there. The inhabitants survived in a place so bleak that even soil had to be created by backbreaking labor.
What situations or events would you like to document?
Think about the activities the people in your documentary do as they go through their daily lives. As you list situations that might be filmed, give some thought to the sequences of events. In Man of Aran, Flaherty films a whale hunt. He also films all the events leading up to the hunt, including the preparation of the boat, the coiling of the line, and the preparation of the harpoon. The sequence concludes with footage of the killing of the whale.
Think also about mundane tasks. Things like going to market, or drinking a cup of tea. Consider events that happen once a year, like a birthday, or once in a lifetime, like a wedding or a graduation.
When you make a list of these situations, be alert for the ones that seem to have the most “life.” Such situations will naturally rise to the top of your shooting list.
Let the story evolve
With an unscripted documentary, rather than planning everything beforehand, you simply give yourself guidelines and let the story evolve based on the material. If you do your research and have a sense of the story you want to tell before you start shooting, you allow yourself to be open to surprises, making changes as you go.
Allow interviewees to “free associate” during interviews. They will be more likely to share ideas that feel alive to them. Open-ended interviews often lead to moments you couldn’t possibly have scripted!
Fadiman’s film, Moment by Moment, documents the remarkable healing journey of a woman named Molly Hale, after an auto accident left her paralyzed from the neck down.
In the film, her husband Jeramy describes his once-a-week overnight stays in the hospital when Molly was still wearing a cage-like metal “halo” that immobilized her head and spinal cord.
During his on-camera interview he said, “How do you make love to your wife in this cage? It was overwhelming. It was a kind of a surreal experience, but we were intimate in the way that we could be, and that was really important for both of us.”
Speaking of his interview, Fadiman said, “How could anyone have scripted that! I had no idea people with severe spinal cord injury could have sex in the hospital under the cover of night!”
This clip, taken from a long, free-flowing interview, inspired Fadiman to cut together an entire scene about how Molly and Jeramy rebuilt their sexual connection after the injury.
Fadiman says, “If you decide beforehand what you want to happen you run the risk of missing what may turn out to be the best material!”
Meanwhile, I still have 27 hours of footage on my shelf, taken on small farms in Ireland and Northern California. If you know anyone who needs some really good stock footage, let me know!
Tony Levelle has over 30 years experience as a writer in the fields of technology and filmmaking. He is the co-author of Producing With Passion. His latest book, Digital Video Secrets, will be in bookstores Spring of 2009.
Source with permission: The Writers Store