Monday, July 21, 2008

PART 1 - WRITING FOR FILM, TELEVISION AND MULTIMEDIA

Each of our lives has a beginning, middle and end; we relate to stories because we are ourselves stories. Once a moment in our lives has passed, our instinct is to preserve it and share it with others, contributing to the greater collective consciousness.

Writing has always been about answering questions.

How do we discover ourselves through self-expression? Through random acts of individual intention that make sense to another observer. Before we converted our picture stories into words we were locked into our tribal traditions. Even in contemporary daily news we can recognize the mythical elements of storytelling.

Ancient books like the Bible consist of legends and myths like Noah’s Ark, collections and repetitions of much older stories, handed down from generation to generation.

The story of King Arthur was first recorded in 1470 by a soldier of fortune Thomas Malory. He was arrested many times for theft, extortion, rape and abusing the clergy as he travelled England and Europe, joining in tournaments and territorial wars.

Malory based his writing on hundreds of years of literature that can be traced back to the 6th Century; in post-Roman Britain, blacksmiths lived in the mountains and forests, working in secret to forge sword blades from the four elements.

Ironically, Malory was an educated man who could read both English and French, the languages of his reference sources. His own writings reveal that he was a prisoner when he completed his literary tour de force Le Morte D’Arthur. These heroic ideals were exemplified in the early Elizabethan era and were rewritten and adapted in The Sword In The Stone and The Once And Future King by T.H. White in 1939.

Malory's writing spawned the cult of chivalrous Knighthood, its code of honour expressed in a sense of duty to one’s lady and public exhibitions of prowess with weapons. They invented the system of Heraldry to graphically indicate their locations on the battlefield, like team emblems/numbers on the sports field or icons on a computer.

“In times of radical change, it’s the mutants that make the difference.
Hackers can save us.”
from Viva Zapata,
a 24 hour action by electronic disturbance theatre Floodnet.com

WRITING: In its control over audience attention, film resembles the literary arts, which are also embedded in the matrix of time, and require that specific fragments of information be absorbed in a given sequential order. Film is also like literature in the freedom with which it operates in time and space, instantaneously transporting the reader from one point to another, eliminating intervening distances and moments, acting with the speed and fluidity of our thoughts.

There are obvious differences between visual and verbal mediums - Literature is confined to a one-dimensional linear scheme, in which objects, conditions, actions, ideas or phenomena can be presented only by listing the details separately. In contrast, film offers ideas and sensory stimuli at one and the same time.

Light, colour, perceptions of plane, volume, mass, density, and texture, movements and stasis, sound and silence, even different types of space - all appear simultaneously, creating a chord in which the tenor of one part is modified by all the rest. In its chordal character and its rhythm of change, interval and duration, film is very much like music.

Writing for film (or any moving image) requires us to have an understanding of the filmmaker's materials - SPACE, TIME, LIGHT and SOUND - and the methods for organising them into complex structures. Movement through space and time is what gives the film medium its extraordinary language and characteristic plasticity.

The principles of colour and tone, themes, structure, continuity, harmony and contrast are some of the most expressive tools in the vocabulary. All of these tools, methods and languages can be appropriately applied to interactive design.

SPACE:

Film confronts us with two kinds of space; first, the IMPLIED SPACE of the setting and the things within the image, which the filmmaker can reveal all at once, through continuous movement or in separate views.

This is broken into three distinct planes; foreground (FGD), middle ground (MGD) and background (BGD) in every shot. These simple image levels can be used to great dramatic effect and should be carefully considered.

The second is FILMIC SPACE. The frame (the four sides that contain the subject matter) is the picture's boundary of reality. While causing people and things to move within the frame, or moving the camera - the filmmaker modifies the position and quality of the frame itself; the angle of vision, relative proximity, the shapes of objects, the relationships of forms to each other, composing visual material into patterns, comparable to those in paintings and still photography.

Here's an example: Actors in motion operate in two ways; they embody the character by acting in whatever way the human being can, through voice, expression, attitude, gesture and movement. Besides being people, actors are also forms - planes, shapes and volumes, parts of a pattern.

The viewer's response to a visual image is conditioned by the overall PATTERNING OF FORMS, which can be made to articulate expressive content by using different formats (frame proportion), angles of vision, proximity and proportion, etc.

RELATIVE CLOSURE is a type of structure of forms in the picture that suggests a closed pattern; e.g. verticals and horizontals together, wheels and circles, exemplify this closed composition.

The camera can 'move' through space in four ways:

• The camera is fixed but the lens is altered - changing the focus plane and using zoom lenses.

• The camera moves from a fixed point - pan, tilt and swish pan.

• The camera moves on a travelling support - tracking, dolly shot, crane shot, steadycam, etc.

• Movement is simulated or created with special effects - fades, supers, dissolves, etc; or in CGI.

TIME:

Beyond the obvious scripted flashbacks and flashforwards, film causes time to become an elastic and malleable element, and the filmmaker can either imitate time as we measure it or create a new experience of time altogether.

In film, time can be modulated in two ways:

• Changing the frame rate - slow motion, fast motion, high speed and lapsed time.

• Editing the images and sounds - into shots, montages, scenes and sequences.

During editing, TRANSITIONAL devices like cuts, dissolves, fades, wipes and freeze frames can be used to emphasize content and duration. The time it takes for an event to be completed can be shortened or lengthened. Acceleration and deceleration of the cutting rate modify the pace of a film and the spectator's experience, but they do not necessarily contract or expand time.

That said, the tempo and cutting rate can give a mundane act greater dramatic intensity, and by accelerating the cuts between images we can lengthen or compress time and add TENSION.

SIMULTANEOUS TIME: A series of shots can describe simultaneous action, transforming into sequential action incidents in different locations; e.g. the classic chase scene; cutting back and forth from pursued to pursuer, so that the rhythm of alternation and rapid cutting rate augments the forward thrust of filmic movement, injects suspense and enhances excitement.

The cutting rate accelerates as the distance between them closes, the rhythm developing until the last shot when it all comes to a rapid conclusion, with both figures in the same frame.

Aside from the frame rate and editing, time can also be manipulated by the content of the shots and the movements occurring within them, and so by implication the spatial configurations represented - both movement and spatial patterns effect our experience of filmic time.

LIGHT:

We are a species that seeks shelter, living in an urban society in which light is regulated; we move from box to box inside boxes, to work with boxes. Access to sunshine requires outdoor locations, and we venture out cautiously equipped with shades and sunblock - like moths to a flame. Humanity’s relationship with light is about control, and the writer should exploit this fact. Light conveys information in regard to form, space, colour, tone, patterning, texture, movement, etc; and assists in the determination of MOOD and ATMOSPHERE.

Being a medium of light and dark, the filmmaker's art is clearly revealed in the way structures in space and time 'come to light' by exploring two variables, HARMONY (likeness) and CONTRAST (difference). These elements can appear in any dimension of the film - in spatial relationships, patterns, movement, metaphors, time intervals, emotional/intellectual content, colour and sound.

SOUND:

An extremely dynamic means of manipulating an audience, sound can be internal, external, synchronous and asynchronous. Reproduced from any source and synchronized with the film images, it can evoke and intensify emotion, commenting on and paralleling the dramatic content and formal rhythms of the film. Visual CONTINUITY is reinforced by what we hear, so consistent sounds in a scene help to join the shots and sequences together.

We can modify sound and make it function in many different ways, to the extent that it can change our perception of image and meaning. Sound can be simply descriptive, composed entirely of natural sounds identified in the action. It can also articulate space, establishing distance, position, direction of movement, openness and closure by its volume, tone and echo.

COUNTERPOINT permits infinitely variable and subtle shades of meaning by placing one or more unrelated or contrasting sounds with an image, augmenting the filmic tension. Even the simplest contrast between sound and visual image will have the effect of making one the foil of the other, thereby heightening the effect.

The soundtrack can also decorate or embellish a film by adding audible delight to the visuals, a sensuous feast for the ears, whether by sound effects or music. Remove Bernard Herrmann's legendary orchestra music from Hitchcock's Psycho (1960) and the tension disappears in many scenes. In short, when the sound has aesthetic integrity, apart from its space-articulating or descriptive functions, it is decorative.

Sound can also lull a writer into a dull reliance upon dialogue, rather than moving pictures, as their prime channel of communication. Writers tend to over-write, creating talky 'expositional' scenes that lack visual power. In the film Point Blank (1967) director John Boorman cut a whole scene of Lee Marvin's dialogue to intensify his ex-wife's verbal confession.

The actor Lee Van Cleef, who played Angel Eyes in The Good, The Bad and The Ugly (1967) would read the script, redline his dialogue and confer with director Sergio Leone, suggesting ways to deliver the essence of the material (boredom, anticipation, menace) with a mannerism or expression, the result being a series of riveting close-ups, usually of the actor’s eyes.

In film, actions speak louder than words, making dialogue a secondary priority. When disencumbered from the task of sustaining narrative through EXPOSITIONAL DIALOGUE, spoken words can serve more realistic, abstract or poetic ends.

However, dialogue would be ridiculous if it were reduced to muttering only profound thoughts. Some of the most effective human sounds are inarticulate but vividly expressive of grief, rage, joy; e.g. groans, screams, laughter, etc. Words are then no longer simply the vehicle of specific information, but an aspect of characterization, mood and aesthetics.

Some immediately recognizable 'iconic' voices can represent periods in history, like those of Frank Sinatra and Winston Churchill; talented mimics imitate them because their voices are as powerfully suggestive as the incidental sounds of chainsaws or gunshots. Like sound effects, music can be used as a signaling device to create drama, the arrangement of melody and rhythm changing as visual states occur; e.g. the music on the weather channel changes for the seven-day forecast, bringing a distracted viewer’s attention back to the screen.

Sounds and music can establish style, mood and emotions quickly, and are capable of actually influencing the physical state of the audience, enhancing the image's ability to touch the senses.

As a general rule in film and multimedia, if text or dialogue is allowed to persistently overwhelm imagery, the results can be very mediocre. Words and pictures make an uneasy mix, but this can be positively exploited in the form of contrasting elements and counterpoint; e.g. by using a navigational graphic or character, the interactive user may visually 'see the light at the end of the tunnel', quite literally leading from ignorance to wisdom about an actual topic.

For specific information (WORDS) to operate effectively, it has to be translated into images (ACTIONS) in the storyboards. Writers and artists should see the flow of visual information as their principal task. To use text or dialogue as an extension of the ACTIVITY is approaching the ideal.

“The best word is one that isn’t spoken”
Sicilian Proverb

MISE-EN-SCÈNE:

This is a French term originating in theater; it means, 'put in the scene.' For film, it has a broader meaning, and refers to almost everything that goes into the composition of the shot, including the composition itself; framing, movement of the camera and characters, lighting, set design and general visual environment, even sound as it helps elaborate the composition.

German films in the 1920s excelled at conveying tone, meaning, and information by their mise-en-scène. One of the most famous examples is The Cabinet of Dr. Caligari (1919) by Robert Wiene, where the doctor's internal state of mind is represented in the sets and lighting. Mise-en-scène has also come to represent a style of conveying the information of a scene primarily through a single shot, often accompanied by camera movement. It is to be contrasted with multiple angles pieced together through editing.

Mise-en-scène can be defined as the articulation of cinematic space, and it is precisely space that it is about. Cutting film is about controlling TIME; holding the shot is about what occurs in a defined area of SPACE, bordered by the frame of the screen and determined by what the camera has been made to record. That space, the mise-en-scène, can be unique, closed off by the frame, or open, providing the illusion of more space around it.

In Travelling Players (1975), by the director Theo Angelopoulos, a group of people move into the past by taking a long walk down a street in one shot; time moves backward as they walk.

There is a sequence in the film Grand Illusion (1937) by the director (and son of the Impressionist painter) Jean Renoir in which a group of WW I POWs receive a carton of gifts. Among the gifts is, unaccountably, some women's clothing. One of the soldiers puts the clothing on, and the rest stare at him in stunned silence. Renoir creates their response by gently panning across the men staring. The movement yields up the space the men inhabit, suggests that it extends beyond the frame, and delicately emphasizes their confused sexual response to this sudden appearance of a man in women's clothes.

Had Renoir cut from face to face, the effect would have been quite different, suggesting the isolation of one man and his emotional response from the next person in the group. If he had offered only a wide shot of all the men together, their individual expressions would have been lost. The pan joins individual to group, making the revelation of space not only physical but also emotional and communal, the response more genuinely human. It allows us to understand the response and not lose our perspective. Closeness and comfortable distance remain.

Editing is a way to form a narrative temporally, both in the making and the viewing of a film. Editing speeds up the shooting process in ways outlined earlier; it also speeds up the viewing process by creating a rhythm of forward action. Even the over-the-shoulder cutting of a dialogue sequence, which creates an event that takes place in one space over a short period of time, is moved along by the rapid shifts of point of view between the participants.

Mise-en-scène filmmaking directs our attention to the space of the shot itself. It slows down production; e.g. where care must be taken in performance, lighting, and composition. If a long take is involved, careful planning is required to make sure that the actors and camera move synchronously.

In a long take actors must act well. There's no chance to save a performance by cutting away to someone or something else in the scene. If a mistake is made, the entire shot has to be made again. The economics of Hollywood production frown on such methods. For the viewer, a film that depends upon mise-en-scène and long shots makes special demands.

Without editing to analyze what's important in a scene by cutting to a close-up of a face or an object, the viewer is required to do the 'looking around' in the shot, to be sensitive to changes in spatial relationships and the movements of the camera and actors. The classical continuity style is DIRECTIVE, the mise-en-scène style CONTEMPLATIVE.

Even a film that uses a lot of shots and cutting may still depend on the mise-en-scene to articulate meaning as each cut reveals a different spatial relationship. Perhaps a general rule is that films made in the classical continuity style point of view usher the viewer through the progress of the narrative.

Films that depend on mise-en-scène ask viewers to pause and (consciously or unconsciously) examine the compositional spaces of the narrative.

STORY STRUCTURE AND CHARACTER DEVELOPMENT:

These are basic narrative requirements in any form of story telling. The director D.W. Griffith established the first real visual vocabulary for film in The Birth of a Nation (1915) inventing the close-up shot and the moving camera. In Citizen Kane (1941), Orson Welles broke all the rules and invented some new ones, fracturing the frame and the narrative with flashbacks and the contradictory stories of different characters.

'Classical' three-act story structure unfolds chronologically, focusing on a central protagonist who experiences conflict in a changing world. The climax or punchline provides emotional and intellectual closure.

There are other alternatives to basic structure, including stories about multiple protagonists whose actions take place in minimalist worlds and offer no closure; e.g. The Big Chill (1983) or Diner (1982) and deliberately anti-structure films like Monty Python and The Holy Grail (1975).

Japanese director Akira Kurosawa’s Rashomon (1950) is a study of truth and human nature; four people involved in a rape/murder tell varying accounts of what happened. Kurosawa also made the films The Seven Samurai (1954) and Yojimbo (1961), which were later adapted into the classic Westerns The Magnificent Seven (1960) and A Fistful of Dollars (1964).

These films revolutionised visual storytelling and their very titles have become part of our language.

There are three approaches to film structure:

• TECTONIC APPROACH: More than a simple record of objects, figures and actions, the process analyzes and breaks them down into their respective parts, rebuilding them so the part relates to the whole in a new way. It is an additive method, both analytical and synthetic; shot is added to shot as in architectural building - the process and its effect are more architectonic than organic. This dialectical method IMPOSES continuity, harmony and contrast.

• THEATRICAL APPROACH: Established in the earliest films and based on stage conventions, the camera takes the vantage point of an observer who watches the scene play out from beginning to end, liking watching a stage play. It OBSERVES continuity, harmony and contrast in the action.

In Citizen Kane, Orson Welles revitalized the theatrical approach, employing an extremely wide-angle lens to maintain sharp focus from foreground to distance. This way he could plot action in depth; create harmony, contrast and tension between foreground, middle distance and distance, directing the viewer's attention from one part of the scene to another as effectively in a single shot as he could by cutting and editing. This is great mise-en-scène.

• ORGANIC APPROACH: In which continuity, harmony and contrast seem to EMERGE out of the action, the narrative, the exposition, or very often the dialogue. A film may exhibit all the resources, processes and expressive forms available and in the interrelationship of parts, be very simple or very complex, strictly rationalised or deliberately informal.