Act I: Set-Up/Situation/Establishment

The first quarter of the script sets up the plot world via the main characters’ relationships and situations, supplies most of the relevant backstory and delivers the crucial inciting incident. This usually occurs at or near the start. It provides the impetus and/or context for the plot and, directly or indirectly, provides the hero with his Problem or Task.

 

St Act Watershed

Or Plot Point 1, or Turning Point 1 (or, confusingly, Inciting Incident, because of its direct impact on the protagonist’s life).This is a major climactic event which spins both protagonist and plot into the unknown quantity of Act II. In a 120-page script, this normally occurs around pages 25-29, allowing the second act to begin on or near page 30.

 

Act II: Complication/Development/Plot

Most of the actual plot occurs during this hour or so, developing the events set in motion in Act I and building to the resolution. In pursuing his goal, the protagonist has to surmount progressively more difficult obstacles and complications, which arrive thicker and faster. It is crucial that you accelerate the pace, raise the stakes and build intensity and action. Many spec scripts run out of steam and become boring at this point. Again the act closes with a major setback, requiring the protagonist to muster all his resources for Act III.

St Focus Point

Every successful script has a rhythm, and the peaks and troughs of rhythm are linked to the structural ‘shape.’ Breaking an act of sixty minutes down into four roughly equal parts is an exercise in rhythm and structure. About 15 minutes into Act II, on or around page 45, a Focus Point (or to use Syd Field’s term, pinch) loops around the protagonist’s problem and the plot, and draws both lines taut. This key scene focuses readers’ attention back on the protagonist’s problem and shows him coming to terms with the nature/magnitude of his task in the special world, or shows another character’s action that will, either deliberately or by accident, do him a favor (ladder) or cause him further complications (snake).

 

Mid-Point/Point of No Return

Effectively, the mid-point provides another Plot Point around the halfway mark which breaks the 60-page act into two main units and introduces another kind of watershed for the protagonist, often changing his direction and massively raising the stakes. It is also known as The Point Of No Return because after this incident, there is no going back.

 

Nd Focus Point

The second focus point performs a similar function for the second half of Act II as the first focus point does for the first half. On or around page 75, another key scene tightens (pinches) the focus on the protagonist’s complications, often echoing or paying off the first focus point.

 

Nd Act Watershed

Bad things happen. The protagonist often ends Act II on a real low, seemingly very far from achieving his goal or completing his task.

 

Act III: Climax & Resolution/Conclusion

 

After mentally and/or physically pulling himself together, the protagonist shakes off the low at the end of Act II and gains a new impetus towards a grand finale, where usually he finally achieves his goal, the force of opposition is vanquished and the loose ends (sub-plots) are tied.

 

Scenes & Sequences

The smallest unit of dramatic action is a scene. A scene transition occurs whenever there is a change of location and/or time. Your individual scenes should come alive on the page, and function individually in addition to connecting with others. Scenes are driven by character motivations and plot advancement. Try to give each scene a beginning, middle and end, and leave readers asking questions about what will happen next. Establish your characters’ objectives for each scene and cut anything that does not contribute to them.

 

A collection of thematically linked scenes forms a sequence. You can title such sequences: the Odessa Steps sequence (Battleship Potemkin), the chariot race sequence (Ben-Hur) etc.

 

One of my favorites is the audacious 20-minute ‘Poker Game’ sequence (which also builds to a first act climax and provides a glorious reversal) in House of Games: At the House of Games, Dr Margaret Ford agrees to Mike’s proposal that if she sits in the poker game, he’ll tear up her suicidal client’s $800 marker. Mike is losing heavily to a Vegas hustler and Margaret is to look for the guy’s “tell” – when he’s bluffing, he plays with his gold ring but he knows Mike has caught him and he’s stopped.

 

Finally, in a hand worth $6000, Mike has three aces. He leaves to go to the toilet. Margaret watches as the hustler fiddles with his ring, just as predicted. When Mike returns, she whispers that the guy’s bluffing and he must call the bet. Mike has a problem – he doesn’t have the cash and needs a marker. The guy gets mad and insists that if Mike can’t call the bet he’ll have to fold the hand. Margaret calls the bet and says she’ll write a cheque if Mike loses, knowing of course that he won’t. The guy doesn’t like it but the other players agree. Mike triumphantly flips his three aces... and then... the hustler fans out a club flush! Stunned faces around the table, not least Margaret’s. Mike is furious, and demands to know how the fuck the guy got a flush after he did the tell. The hustler gets angry and places a gun on the table, demanding his $6000.The tension is electric.

 

Margaret takes out her cheque book and begins to write, focusing on the gun... as a bead of water drips from the barrel. She tears up the cheque. The players back off; the hustler is apoplectic. She tells him he can’t threaten her with a squirt gun. He protests but Mike tells him, “George, you’ve blown the gaff.” Tension is released ingeniously with humor as George says, “I told you a goddamn squirt gun wouldn’t work.” Mike tells him it would have worked fine; he didn’t have to fill it. The audience’s laughter usually drowns George’s reply: “What, I’m going to threaten someone with an empty gun?” Margaret is incredulous. They insist, “It’s nothing personal,” “It’s only business.” One born every minute, and two to take ’em. Mike gives her a chip as a souvenir of her visit and she can’t help laughing. Her normal world has somersaulted into the special world.

Screenplay Format

 

Screenwriters love to debate the pros and cons of screenplay format. Some think that having a prescribed layout for a script is a good thing; others find it restrictive and insist on going their own way. Some centre character cues, others place them at the left indent. Some use professional software packages, some use tabs on their word processor, some make it up as they go along.

 

My advice is: stop the debate – it ain’t optional. The industry has clear expectations – rules by any other name – about the format for submitted screenplays. If you write a script with intent to impress, progress and sell, then you’d better abide by them. Submitting a screenplay in a non-standard format marks your card as unprofessional in an industry that has the luxury of demanding professionalism from writers because it’s a buyer’s market. Similarly, if your script is full of typographical and spelling errors, it’s just another reason for script readers to bounce it. As with any rule, people will queue at your door to point out exceptions but there are very few. Take the common sense view that your script won’t figure among the exceptions and ensure you get it right before you get it out there. I’m not asking you to restrict your creativity, merely to adapt it to the market place. As Syd Field says, screenplay format is not difficult to learn. It’s quite straightforward and allows you plenty of variation when you know the parameters. I find that experienced writers, particularly of novels, have the most trouble adjusting. They have to curb their penchant for long descriptive passages, simile, metaphor etc., and learn to edit ruthlessly. Screenwriting is a minimalist form – your task is to convey the maximum emotion using the minimum words.

 

7 – Synopses, Outlines & Treatments

 

Problems of Semantics

These three terms present the novice Screenwriter with a headache, arising from their interchangeability of meaning; one person’s Treatment is another’s Outline, is yet another’s Synopsis. There are many suggested functions and lengths for each form. I will therefore offer my interpretation of the terms; how I define them to navigate my own weary path through the minefield.

 

Synopses

I use a synopsis to commit the skeleton of the story to paper, right at the outset – the basic beginning, middle and end written in as close to one page of single-spaced A4 as possible. At this stage, it is little more than an exercise to list the major story events in chronological order. A synopsis is a document I use to help clarify my ideas. When you have worked out the main story events, write a linear synopsis to assist you in holding the full picture in your mind. Remember, as your story evolves, these events will change. Don’t spend too much time rewriting the synopsis to reflect these changes because it takes precious time away from the script. When your story has its full complement of incidents write a “final” synopsis, again keeping as close to a single page as you can.

 

Outlines

When you are confident you have identified all the major story events, you may find the outline, or step-outline, is a useful tool to co-develop story and plot. This is a method of outlining the bare bones of each scene on lined index cards. The bare bones consist of: the slug line, characters present and a brief description of the action. The general rule is, if you can’t fit the description on one side of the card, the scene may be too long and you should consider breaking it down. It’s a good idea to write in pencil, as your scenes will evolve. Number your cards, again in pencil. The average length of a feature film scene is around two minutes, so 50-60 scenes/cards give you the skeleton of a feature script (remember, a scene change occurs whenever there is a change of location and/or time). Don’t worry too much if you have lots of short scenes totaling more than 60 cards. This can be a good thing, especially in fast-paced action scripts; American films average nearly twice as many scenes as British or European films. Find a large wall or floor space where you can experiment with the order of your scenes to develop your plot – even if you think it will run chronologically, you may want to play around with sub-plots. Like the synopsis, the step-outline is for the writer’s benefit and offers a user-friendly way to juggle events and arrive at the best dramatic framework for the plot.

 

Treatments

A treatment is usually written either when the story events are almost complete and require a more expanded and detailed document than a synopsis, or when the final draft script is ready for marketing. Writing an early treatment is advisable; it helps you to work out plot problems before attempting your first draft.

 

Although a treatment is excellent for getting a grip on the complexity of the plot and clarifying your thoughts, it is primarily a selling document to market yourself and your product. Increasingly, producers and agents are asking to read treatments. They can tell from the treatment whether or not the script (and the writer) will interest them, and it takes less time to read. The upside for the writer is that very good treatments open a lot of important doors; the downside is they may later discover they’re better at writing treatments than they are at writing scripts and their beloved project may be passed to someone else.

 

Treatments should be regarded as an addition to a script, never as a replacement. Ultimately, no matter how good your treatment, the quality of your script remains the most important criterion on which you will be judged.

 

The treatment comprehensively documents the major incidents of the plot. It is written in the present tense, single-spaced, and contains the five Ws and an H: who, what, where, when, why and how; including (importantly) the end. The style should be pared down, flowing and entertaining to the reader. Broad strokes, no confusion or ambiguity, conveying the emotional impact of the story. There is little consensus on an ideal length, anything over five pages is generally accepted as a treatment. Thirty- or even sixty-page treatments are not unheard of, but such detail is unnecessary and defeats the object of providing agents and producers with a short selling document. The time would be better spent developing your script. I try to work to a minimum of five pages and a maximum of twelve.

 

Julian Friedmann, who in his capacity as an agent has read thousands of treatments, advises writers to augment them to create the best impression. His four-part strategy contains a short (5-20 lines) introductory statement giving the premise, central character and key dramatic incident; 5-20 line biographies of the main characters; a statement of intent as to why the project is special for you, and you for it, and then the storyline as above. His suggested length is 10-20 pages.

 

Finding examples of treatments is notoriously difficult. Even Terry Rossio and Ted Elliott, in-demand screenwriters whose credits include The Mask of Zorro, Small Soldiers and

Shrek, have said they get around having to produce treatments by asking execs for examples that they liked, knowing none will be forthcoming. There is an entertaining piece on treatments, including a few of their own, on their excellent website www.wordplayer.com.

 

I strongly suggest you develop a detailed plot treatment, including your act watersheds, focus points and mid-point, before you attempt your first draft. For further information see current and back issues of Julian Friedmann’s Scriptwriter magazine, and for valuable examples go to www.writingtreatments.com and www.simplyscripts.com.

Хрестоматия для самостоятельного чтения по специальности “Звукорежиссура аудиовизуальных искусств”

THEORY OF THE FILM: SOUND
by Bela Balazs

The Acoustic World
It is the business of the sound film to reveal for us our acoustic environment, the acoustic landscape in which we live, the speech of things and the intimate whisperings of nature; all that has speech beyond human speech, and speaks to us with the vast conversational powers of life and incessantly influences and directs our thoughts and emotions, from the muttering of the sea to the din of a great city, from the roar of machinery to the gentle patter of autumn rain on a windowpane. The meaning of a floorboard creaking in a deserted room, a bullet whistling past our ear, the deathwatch beetle ticking in old furniture, and the forest spring tinkling over the stones. Sensitive lyrical poets always could hear these significant sounds of life and describe them in words. It is for the sound film to let them speak to us more directly from the screen.

Discovery of Noise
The sounds of our day­ to­day life ­we hitherto perceived merely as a confused noise, as a formless mass of din, rather as an unmusical person may listen to a symphony; at best he may be able to distinguish the leading melody, the rest will fuse into a chaotic clamor. The sound film will teach us to analyze even chaotic noise with our ear and read the score of life's symphony. Our ear will hear the different voices in the general babble and distinguish their character as manifestations of individual life. It is an old maxim that art saves us from chaos. The arts differ from each other in the specific kind of chaos which they fight against. The vocation of the sound film is to redeem us from the chaos of shapeless noise by accepting it as expression, as significance, as meaning.

Only when the sound film will have resolved noise into its elements, segregated individual, intimate voices, and made them speak to us separately in vocal, acoustic close­ ups; when these isolated detail­ sounds will be collated again in purposeful order by sound ­montage, will the sound film have become a new art. When the director is able to lead our ear as he could once already lead our eye in the silent film and by means of such guidance along a series of close­ ups will be able to emphasize, separate, and bring into relation with each other the sounds of life as he has done with its sights, then the rattle and clatter of life will no longer overwhelm us in a lifeless chaos of sound. The sound camera will intervene in this chaos of sound, form it and interpret it, and then it will again be man himself who speaks to us from the sound screen.

The Picture Forms the Sound
In a sound film there is no need to explain the sounds. We see together with the word the glance, the smile, the gesture, the whole chord of expression, the exact nuance. Together with the sounds and voices of things we see their physiognomy. The noise of a machine has a different coloring for us if we see the whirling machinery at the same time. The sound of a wave is different if we see its movement. Just as the shade and value of a color changes according to what other colors are next to it in a painting, so the timbre of a sound changes in accordance with the physiognomy or gesture of the visible source of the sound seen together with the sound itself in a sound film in which acoustic and optical impressions are equivalently linked together into a single picture.

In a radio play the stage has to be described in words, because sound alone is not space­ creating.

Silence
Silence, too, is an acoustic effect, but only where sounds can be heard. The presentation of silence is one of the most specific dramatic effects of the sound film. No other art can reproduce silence, neither painting, nor sculpture, neither literature, nor the silent film could do so. Even on the stage silence appears only rarely as a dramatic effect and then only for short moments. Radio plays cannot make us feel the depths of silence at all, because when no sounds come from our set, the whole performance has ceased, as we cannot see any silent continuation of the action. The sole material of the wireless play being sound, the result of the cessation of sound is not silence but just nothing.

Silence and Space
Things that we see as being different from each other appear even more different when they emit sounds. They all sound different when they do this, but they are all silent in the same way. There are thousands of different sounds and voices, but the substance of silence appears one and the same for all. That is at first hearing. Sound differentiates visible things, silence brings them closer to each other and makes them less dissimilar. Every painting shows this happy harmony, the hidden common language of mute things conversing with each other, recognizing each others' shapes, and entering into relations with each other in a composition common to them all. This was a great advantage the silent film had over the sound film. For its silence was not mute; it was given a voice in the background music, and landscapes and men andthe objects surroundingthem were shown on the screen against this common musical background. This made them speak a common silent language and we could feel their irrational conversation in the music which was common to them all.

But the silent film could reproduce silence only by roundabout means. On the theatrical stage cessation of the dialogue does not touch off the great emotional experience of silence, because the space of the stage is too small for that, and the experience of silence is essentially a space experience

How do we perceive silence? By hearing nothing? That is a mere negative. Yet man has few experiences more positive than the experience of silence. Deaf people do not know what it is. But if a morning breeze blows the sound of a cock crowing over to us from the neighboring village, if from the top of a high mountain we hear the tapping of a woodcutter's axe far below in the valley, if we can hear the crack of a whip a mile away ­then we are hearing the silence around us. We feel the silence when we can hear the most distant sound or the slightest rustle near us. Silence is when the buzzing of a fly on the windowpane fills the whole room with sound and the ticking of a clock smashes time into fragments with sledgehammer blows. The silence is greatest when we can hear very distant sounds in a very large space. The widest space is our own if we can hear right across it and the noise of the alien world reaches us from beyond its boundaries. A completely soundless space on the contrary never appears quite concrete and quite real to our perception; we feel it to be weightless and unsubstantial, for what we merely see is only a vision. We accept seen space as real only when it contains sounds as well, for these give it the dimension of depth.

On the stage, a silence which is the reverse of speech may have a dramaturgical function, as for instance if a noisy company suddenly falls silent when a new character appears; but such a silence cannot last longer than a few seconds, otherwise it curdles as it were and seems to stop the performance. On the stage, the effect of silence cannot be drawn out or made to last.

In the film, silence can be extremely vivid and varied, for although it has no voice, it has very many expressions and gestures. A silent glance can speak volumes; its soundlessness makes it more expressive because the facial movements of a silent figure may explain the reason for the silence, make us feel its weight, its menace, its tension. In the film, silence does not halt action even for an instant and such silent action gives even silence a living face.

The physiognomy of men is more intense when they are silent. More than that, in silence even things drop their masks and seem to look at you with wide­ open eyes. If a sound film shows us any object surrounded by the noises of everyday life and then suddenly cuts out all sound and brings it up to us in isolated close ­up, then the physiognomy of that object takes on a significance and tension that seems to provoke and invite the event which is to follow.

Sound­ Explaining Pictures
Not only the microdramatics expressed in the microphysiognomy of the face can be made intelligible by the sound which causes it. Such a close ­up­ plus sound can have the inverse effect. The close­ up of a listener's face can explain the sound he hears. We might perhaps not have noticed the significance of some sound or noise if we had not seen its effect in the mirror of a human face. For instance we hear the screaming of a siren. Such a sound does not acquire a dramatic significance unless we can see from the expression on human faces that it is a danger signal, or a call to revolt. We may hear the sound of sobbing, but how deep its meaning is will become evident only from the expression of sympathy and understanding appearing on some human face. Further, the acoustic character of a sound we understand is different too. We hear the sound of a siren differently if we know that it is a warning of impending deadly peril.

The face of a man listening to music may also show two kinds of things. The reflected effect of the music may throw light into the human soul; it may also throw light on the music itself and suggest by means of the listener's facial expression some experience touched off by this musical effect. If the director shows us a close­ up of the conductor while. an invisible orchestra is playing, not only can the character of the music be made clear by the dumb show of the conductor, his facial expression may also give an interpretation of the sounds and convey it to us. And the emotion produced in a human being by music and demonstrated by a close­ up of a face can enhance the power of a piece of music in our eyes far more than any added decibels.

Asynchronous Sound
In a close­ up in which the surroundings are not visible a sound that seeps into the shot sometimes impresses us as mysterious, simply because we cannot see its source. It produces the tension arising from curiosity and expectation. Sometimes the audience does not know what the sound is they hear, but the character in the film can hear it, turn his face toward the sound, and see its source before the audience does. This handling of picture and sound provides rich opportunities for effects of tension and surprise.

Asynchronous sound (that is, when there is discrepancy between the things heard and the things seen in the­ film) can acquire considerable importance. If the sound or voice is not tied up with a picture of its source, it may grow beyond the dimensions of the latter. Then it is no longer the voice or sound of some chance thing, but appears as a pronouncement of universal validity.... The surest means by which a director can convey the pathos or symbolical significance of sound or voice is precisely to use it
asynchronously.

Intimacy of Sound
Acoustic close­ ups make us perceive sounds which are included in the accustomed noise of day­to­-day life, but which we never hear as individual sounds because they are drowned in the general din. Possibly they even have an effect on us but this effect never becomes conscious. If a close­ up picks out such a sound and thereby makes us aware of its effect, then at the same time its influence on the action will have been made manifest.

On the stage such things are impossible. If a theatrical producer wanted to direct the attention of the audience to a scarcely audible sigh, because that sigh expresses a turning ­point in the action, then all the other actors in the same scene would have to be very quiet, or else the actor who is to breathe the sigh would have to be brought forward to the footlights. All this, however, would cause the sigh to lose its essential character, which is that it is shy and retiring and must remain scarcely audible. As in the silent film so in the sound film, scarcely perceptible, intimate things can be conveyed with all the secrecy of the unnoticed eavesdropper. Nothing need be silenced in order to demonstrate such sounds for all to hear ­and they can yet be kept intimate. The general din can go on, it may even drown completely a sound like the soft piping of a mosquito, but we can get quite close to the source of the sound with the microphone and with our ear and hear it nevertheless.

Subtle associations and interrelations of thoughts and emotions can be conveyed by means of very low, soft sound effects. Such emotional or intellectual linkages can play a decisive dramaturgical part. They may be anything­: the ticking of a clock in an empty room, a slow drip from a burst pipe, or the moaning of a little child in its sleep.

Sound Cannot be Isolated
In such close­ ups of sound we must be careful, however, to bear in mind the specific nature of sound which never permits sound to be isolated from its acoustic environment as a close ­up shot can be isolated from its surroundings. For what is not within the film frame cannot be seen by us, even if it is immediately beside the things that are. Light or shadow can be thrown into the picture from outside and the outline of a shadow can betray to the spectator what is outside the frame but still in the same sector of space, although the picture will show only a shadow. In sound things are different. An acoustic environment inevitably encroaches on the close ­up shot and what we hear in this case is not a shadow or a beam of light, but the sounds themselves, which can always be heard throughout the whole space of the picture, however small a section of that space is included in the close­ up. Sounds cannot be blocked out.

Music played in a restaurant cannot be completely cut out if a special close ­up of say two people softly talking together in a corner is to be shown. The band may not always be seen in the picture, but it will always be heard. Nor is there any need to silence the music altogether in order that we may hear the soft whispering of the two guests as if we were sitting in their immediate vicinity. The close­ up will contain the whole acoustic atmosphere of the restaurant space. Thus we will hear not only the people talking, we will also hear in what relation their talking is to the sounds all round them. We will be able to place it in its acoustic environment.

Such sound ­pictures are often used in the film for the purpose of creating an atmosphere. Just as the film can show visual landscapes, so it can show acoustic landscapes, a tonal milieu.

Educating the Ear
Our eye recognizes things even if it has seen them only once or twice. Sounds are much more difficult to recognize. We know far more visual forms than sound forms. We are used to finding our way about the world without the conscious assistance of our hearing. But without sight we are lost. Our ear, however, is not less sensitive, it is only less educated than our eye. Science tells us in fact that the ear can distinguish more delicate nuances than our eye. The number of sounds and noises a human ear can distinguish runs into many thousands ­far more than the shades of color and degrees of light we can distinguish. There is however a considerable difference between perceiving a sound and identifying its source. We may be aware that we are hearing a different sound than before, without knowing to whom or what the sound belongs. We may have more difficulty in perceiving things visually, but we recognize them more easily once we have perceived them. Erdmann's experiments showed that the ear can distinguish innumerable shades and degrees in the noise of a large crowd, but at the same time it could not be stated with certainty whether the noise was that of a merry or an angry crowd.

There is a very considerable difference between our visual and acoustic education. One of the reasons for this is that we so often see without hearing. We see things from afar, through a windowpane, on pictures, on photographs. But we very rarely hear the sounds of nature and of life without seeing something. We are not accustomed therefore to draw conclusions about visual things from sounds we hear. This defective education of our hearing can be used for many surprising effects in the sound film. We hear a hiss in the darkness. A snake? A human face on the screen turns in terror toward the sound and the spectators tense in their seats. The camera, too, turns toward the sound. And behold the hiss is that of a kettle boiling on the gas ­ring.

Such surprising disappointments may be tragic too. In such cases the slow approach and the slow recognition of the sound may cause a far more terrifying tension than the approach of something seen and therefore instantly recognized. The roar of an approaching flood or landslide, approaching cries of grief or terror, which we discern and distinguish only gradually, impress us with the inevitability of an approaching catastrophe with almost irresistible intensity. These great possibilities of dramatic effect are due to the fact that such a slow and gradual process of recognition can symbolize the desperate resistance of the consciousness to understanding a reality which is already audible but which the consciousness is reluctant to accept.

Sounds Throw No Shadow
Auditive culture can be increased like any other and the sound film is very suitable to educate our ear. There are however definite limits to the possibilities of finding our way about the world purely by sound, without any visual impressions. The reason for this is that sounds throw no shadows­ in other words that sounds cannot produce shapes in space. Things which we see we must see side by side; if we do not, one of them covers up the other so that it cannot be seen. Visual impressions do not blend with each other. Sounds are different; if several of them are present at the same time, they merge into one common composite sound. We can see the dimension of space and see a direction in it. But we cannot hear either dimension or direction. A quite unusual, rare sensitivity of ear, the so­ called absolute ­is required to distinguish the several sounds which make up a composite noise. But their place in space, the direction of their source cannot be discerned even by a perfect ear, if no visual impression is present to help.

It is one of the basic form ­problems of the radio play that sound alone cannot represent space and hence cannot alone represent a stage.

Sounds Have No Sides
It is difficult to localize sound and a film director must take this fact into account. If three people are talking together in a film and they are placed so that we cannot see the movements of their mouths and if they do not accompany their words by gestures, it is almost impossible to know which of them is talking, unless the voices are very different. For sounds cannot be beamed as precisely as light can be directed by a reflector. There are no such straight and concentrated sound beams as there are rays of light.

The shapes of visible things have several sides, right side and left side, front and back. Sound has no such aspects, a sound strip will not tell us from which side the shot was made.

 

Sound Has a Space Coloring
Every natural sound reproduced by art on the stage or on the platform always takes on a false tone ­coloring, for it always assumes the coloring of the space in which it is presented to the public and not of the space which it is supposed to reproduce. If we hear a storm, the howling of the wind, a clap of thunder, etc., on the stage we always hear in it the timbre proper to the stage not in the timbre proper to the forest, or ocean, or whatnot the scene is supposed to represent. If, say, a choir sings in a church on the stage, we cannot hear the unmistakable resonance of Gothic arches; for every sound bears the stamp of the space in which it is actually produced.

Every sound has a space­ bound character of its own. The same sound sounds different in a small room, in a cellar, in a large empty hall, in a street, in a forest, or on the sea.

Every sound which is really produced somewhere must of necessity have some such space­ quality and this is a very important quality indeed if use is to be made of the sensual reproducing power of sound! It is this timbre local of sound which is necessarily always falsified on the theatrical stage. One of the most valuable artistic faculties of the microphone is that sounds shot at the point of origin are perpetuated by it and retain their original tonal coloring. A sound recorded in a cellar remains a cellar sound even if it is played back in a picture theater, just as a film shot preserves the viewpoint of the camera, whatever the spectator's viewpoint in the cinema auditorium may be. If the picture was taken from above, the spectators will see the object from above, even if they have to look upwards to the screen and not downwards. Just as our eye is identified with the camera lens, so our ear is identified with the microphone and we hear the sounds as the microphone originally heard them, irrespective of where the sound being shown and the sound reproduced. In this way, in the sound film, the fixed, immutable, permanent distance between spectator and actor is eliminated not only visually…but acoustically as well. Not only as spectators, but as listeners, too, we are transferred from our seats to the space in which the events depicted on the screen are taking place.

 

An Open Letter from your Sound Department
written by John Coffey, with help from Randy Thom, Jeff Wexler, Noah Timan, Mike Hall, John Garrett, Scott Smith, Rob Young, Mike Filosa, Wolf Seeberg, Darren Brisker, Charles Wilborn, Todd Russell, Brydon Baker, Larry Long, Glen Trew, Dave Schaaf, Charles Tomaras, Klay Anderson, Brian Shennan, Hans Hansen, David Marks, Bob Gravenor, Von Varga, Mark Steinbeck, Carl Cardin, Eric Toline, Joseph Cancila, Stu Fox, Peter Devlin, Matt Nicolay and many others.

This letter is being written by audio professionals to help directors and producers understand how good sound can be recorded on the set. We want to help you make the best film possible.

For this piece, we will not discuss the topic of mixing itself, as this is the "hocus pocus" part that you trust us to do so well.

We want you to have information that will enable you to evaluate what is interfering with good sound, before a hasty decision is made that can harm the quality of your film’s sound. To help you make your decision you need to know about some of the obstacles that we sound people face, before we can even begin to get usable production sound on the set.

This is after all, the age day of digital sound. Theaters have wonderful THX (the audience IS listening) and SDDS with 5.1 surround. Home audio is often better than many theaters as a sophisticated audience demands DVDs with 24 bits. Yet, today’s sound at its source on set is suffering like never before.

THE PROBLEM

We, the sound crew, are the ones that you depend on to create and protect YOUR original sound tracks during production.

Unlike the work of the majority of the people who are working for on-camera results, the mixer’s efforts can not be "seen" on the set. Almost no one hears what the microphone picks up. Too few are sure just what we do. Only the most obviously bad noises are even brought up for discussion.

Included in our job is to monitor the sets for unnecessary, accidental, ignorant and sometimes even malicious actions or lack of actions that may compromise your sound track. To emphasize this point: WE DO THIS SO YOU WILL HAVE THE BEST TRACKS POSSIBLE; IT IS NOT FOR US.

We are too often frustrated by the state of conditions that now exist on most sets. Many times we are expected to solve all sound problems alone. Instead, this should always be a cooperative effort with the assistant directors and other crafts.

Sound mixers are often perceived as pests or even a hindrance to the film's progress. We don't like being put in this untenable position because it is humiliating and unnecessary. We don't like to be considered adversarial to the rest of the production and we certainly don't want to be the "sound police"!

A mixer on a tough show, who fights alone to get you good sound, stands a good chance of burning out from all the excuses and defenses put up. It’s hard to put it all out there without support. The temptation is to cave into the pressure and just go with the flow, and no good can come when that happens.

The problems that we face may lead you to believe that good sound cannot be achieved without set disruptions and added costs. This would not be necessary if reasonable measures are anticipated and endorsed by you both in pre-production and during production.

We know the limitations of our equipment. For example, microphones are just tools, they don’t make miracles happen. If on-set audio problems are not dealt with immediately, they will only be back to haunt you again in postproduction.

You can help us do a better job for you. Good sound can most often be achieved by using reasonable preparation to avoid pitfalls.

We need your understanding and your backing.

THEN AND NOW

To understand the sorry state of audio affairs today, you must go back in time.

There once existed a major studio system where an assembly line of crafts worked together to churn out film products. No matter which studio we worked at, all crafts understood they were expected to take reasonable measures within their purview to allow for good sound recordings. It was instilled as part of their job description. These duties were passed on to the young apprentices. Grips cut microphone shadows sharply with flags. The electric department would change out a noisy light that buzzed. Camera assistants would try everything possible to quiet camera noise and many are the times that an operator had blankets and pillows over them and the noisy camera. Every other craft would do whatever was deemed reasonable to help get good sound, because it was considered to be part of their job. No one had to try to persuade them to do it. It was an era where reasonable co-operation with the Sound Department was the normal way to make good movies.

Today's crafts still have pride in their jobs but it seems they NO LONGER consider sound assistance to be a part of their job description. The problems began when the in-house studio training system broke down as non-union independent films proliferated. Along the way, the process of learning what their jobs entailed changed the way they perceived sound. The other crafts now don't think they should do anything to help YOU get good sound for YOUR movie. There is no longer an apprenticeship system to pass along this knowledge. They now learn on the job under fire through osmosis.

They must now be requested in each instance to do reasonable things, which are necessary to protect YOUR sound tracks, because they just don't consider it to be a part of their job anymore.

The Sound Department would gladly cut the shadow on the back wall of the set ourselves or cover the noisy camera, but that's not how the game is played. Instead, we have to convince, cajole, coerce, plead and use every other psychological persuasion technique to get the other crafts to help us prevent sound problems.

That last second, scrambling time on set should only be used to fix the unexpected problems which will inevitably occur. Instead, that last second is the first time that the sound mixer finds out about changes in dialog, staging or unwanted noises from on or off of the set.

All of the other departments work for what is seen and not heard. Every single person on the production from make-up and wardrobe to grips and props concentrates only on what's seen in the viewfinder.

Because the other production crafts work only for picture, no one knows or cares what's happening to YOUR audio.

You are the only person on set with the power to allow us to get you good sound. It is always tempting for sound to give in and not go against the grain when circumstances impose impossible barriers.

Film schools are going to need to add psychology courses to their sound mixing curriculum soon. The situation is often that bad. That is why we want you to know as much as possible about the audio minefield lurking on every set.

What may often seem to you to be a lot of complaining, is in fact simply communicating negative factors to you, so that you will know what you are getting on your sound tracks, and what sound problems can be fixed NOW. For bottom line, these are YOUR choices. Just because we hear a noise does not make it a sound problem. It is your problem too. After all, we turn over the tracks to you at the end of the day.

After reading this, hopefully it will be much easier for you to make the informed decision about when it's really the time to loop. It's far too late to reverse a sound calamity later in post.

Even though this topic is last in the chain of events, we should start first by talking about why ADR is not a fix.

LOOPING

It is important to understand the gravity and consequences caused when the words "We'll loop it" are used.

You are obviously aware that extra ADR adds a financial burden to your budget, but the consequences are much greater than that. Looping is only an answer for situations where all else fails! It's not a quick fix later if the original set problems could have easily have been rectified with just a little time, knowledge or communication. Looping means that you are also making a huge artistic compromise that damages the film in many other ways in which you may not be so aware.

Obviously, you realize that the actor's performance is always better in production than in an ADR booth. Making a film is an artistic endeavor that lives forever! You cast great actors to bring together the collaborative efforts of film making and then you lose the essence of the scene by looping! The voice of a great actor totally in character, moving and interacting with other actors in three dimensional space is a treasure. It breathes life into the film.

Sure, ADR will have less noise than even the best set recording made with cameras rolling, but in fact we know it lacks any spontaneity, as well as the emotional truth of what's captured when you use your artist’s talents on the set. It can't be duplicated. ADR is not acting. The greatest method actors all hate it and at best, it is only a close recreation of the original scene.

Looping also just eats into a post budget financial and time constraints, which would be far better spent utilizing their magical tools to enrich the film.

When you just have to loop, the new forward thinking by many respected post sound professionals (such as Randy Thom from Skywalker) is to loop it immediately on or close to the set and as soon possible after the scene. These advocates know that the performance will be better so soon after filming the scene and the sound will be more natural if done in the same environment with the offending noises locked down. There are companies that specialize in on set looping using the video assist tapes for picture in portable studios.

Looping at best is usually fiscally irresponsible. Be sure that the audio problem really can't be fixed BEFORE you make a decision that you will regret later. Never allow the simple impatience of the moment on set be your real reason to loop! Be sure you have first covered all reasonable alternatives.

SOUND PROBLEMS ON THE SET

The majority of events that ruin sound tracks are totally predictable and happen over and over, show after show, year after year.

These are obstacles that are clearly identifiable and quantifiable. The difference between getting good sound or bad sound is often determined by how many of these predictable negative factors take place on your particular show and how they are handled.

There are few problems that don't have solutions if proper diligence can be taken in advance. The sound mixer is your advocate here. Let's try to identify the audio problems which each craft brings to your film.

PREPRODUCTION

Good sound begins by anticipating the outcome well in advance. Communicate early and often with your mixer in pre-production. Pay the mixer to go listen to potential problem sets ahead of time. Let them make a mock recording to see what can be dialed out in post. Do this before the locations are locked in and before the scouts with your key department heads. If the mixer is still on another show, have them designate a trusted associate to go for them. In the end, it's cost effective.

LOCATIONS DEPARTMENT

More can be done here to save a film's audio than any other department. Picking sets should have consideration for sound. At least try to weigh in environmental noise factors! We just ask that a minimal amount of consideration be given to potential audio problems. Often, we shoot in a place which could have easily been substituted for another location or on a weekend. Many times we film at a location which has construction, traffic, schools, airplane patterns and other background noise which are quite obvious. Only shoot those kinds of locations when it's absolutely necessary and essential to the film.

Lock down all the noise problems before we get to the set.

• Always consider the control of the air conditioning. This is a must! Without a/c control, the audio background will change from shot to shot as the air goes on and off. If it is a large building, have someone standing by with a walkie-talkie to turn the air back on after each shot. When exterior, it can be just as important to kill a/c units that are near the set.
• Have control on all noise makers in sets such as bars, offices and hospitals. All refrigerators, computers, ice makers, x-ray and other machines must be able to be turned off.
• Ask to schedule filming during non-work times in locations such as bars and restaurants.
• Avoid tin roofs during rainy season.
• Make sure sets can be cabled by electric and still keep windows, doors and openings closed.

ART DEPARTMENT

• Confer with the sound department when adding noisy set furniture, computers and machinery.
• Try to consider overhead mics before building low covered ceilings, hanging lamps and cross beams.
• Inject foam into constructed stairs and steps to get rid of hollow footsteps over dialog.
• Whenever possible, carpet sets to deaden echo and live rooms. Especially consider these taking this step in rooms where the majority of dialogue takes place.

ASSISTANT DIRECTORS

None of these implementation plans will succeed if the ADs don’t support YOUR sound on the film. Sometimes they don’t! The crew will take their cue to stop co-operating if it’s clear the ADs react at the expense of getting good sound. Derogatory statements like “waiting on sound” and “just loop it” are unproductive and sap our spirit.

• Get police traffic lock downs when possible.
• Get quiet lock ups on set. Do not allow any walking. Station your PA’s at key locations outside, and most especially under windows. (Keep the PA’s from talking too) “Lock It Up” means that we should not hear any work noise from our crews. No engines, talking, etc. Have your walkie set up with priority override function so as to announce the roll across all walkie-talkie channels being used by all departments.
• Allow the sound department to make quick corrections that are reasonable.
• Enforce pantomiming from the background extras.
• Allocate a reasonable time and place for an actor to get wired. It won't help go faster if you push the sound crew to wire faster if the actor insists on getting wired at the last second on the set. Conversely, don’t make the boom operator sit outside a star’s dressing room just wasting valuable time that could be used to work out other sound problems on set.
• When there are closed rehearsals, make sure the boom operator gets to see at least one rehearsal before the actors leave the set.
• Honor wild line requests before releasing the actors.
• Honor room tone requests before breaking the set up, and stop all talk and movement. Room tones are very important to get before the ambient sound changes.
• In plane infested locations, roll as soon as the engine noise tails out before another plane comes in. Keep the set quiet enough to determine the status of the incoming and outgoing planes.
• Be sure to inform Sound Department at least two days ahead of playback days. Have the office send a post approved tape with sync. Don’t expect that a CD or cassette will suffice.
• Have all walkie-talkies, cell phones and pagers turned off during takes and final rehearsals. They can wreck havoc on wireless microphones.

PRODUCTION MANAGERS

• Budget in a third sound person and the proper amount of audio equipment. A third person is invaluable in getting sound problems fixed in the crucial moments between the takes and scenes.
• Don’t say “no” to any additional sound related costs without considering the entire post budget too.
• Book and check that stages are quiet. Even the newest and most modern stages often have dimmer banks located on or so close to the stage that they are a terrible problem.

CAMERA DEPARTMENT

Camera assistants:

• When (not if) there is camera noise, make all reasonable efforts to contain it by using barneys, glass, blankets, tweaking, etc.
• Don’t turn the slate on and off as time code will then be wrong. Let the mixer know as soon as a slate shows any problems.
• Let the sound mixer know what frequencies are being transmitted in case it steps on wireless mics or comteks. Be prepared to kill the panatape when it causes microphone interference.

Operators:

• Hold only the frame size to be used and no more.
• Communicate and work out any problems with the boom operator before the first team is called in.
• Be willing to operate in a pinch with cover or blanket over a particular noisy camera.

Directors of Photography:

• Light the set so that a boom can swing overhead.
• Don't use Xenon lights unless the director was informed ahead of time that the whole scene will have to be looped.
• Don't ever say “loop it”! It's not the DP’s prerogative! If the DP conveys to the crew that sound matters to the film, they will follow that lead and be more attentive to potential sound problems.
• When shooting practical car scenes, try to consider sound problems and light so that windows can be closed where possible.

SPECIAL EFFECTS DEPARTMENT

Make a reasonable effort to keep the offstage noise making devices away from the set and baffled whenever there is dialogue in the same scene.

• When making rain, put the rain machines and water truck as far away as possible.
• Use hogs hair to muffle raindrops on roofs and when it's seen out a window.
• When a fan is used to blow a curtain or plant, work it out with the sound mixer before the noise problem crops up after the first take.
• When using fireplaces, try to limit the hissing gas sound.
• Heaters close by on cold sets need to be shut off well before rolling to eliminate the crackle and pops from shutdown.

WARDROBE DEPARTMENT

They can help in creatively placing the wireless in the best possible position on the actor’s body, when asked. They should never make negative comments about bulges that make the actors overly conscious about wearing a body mic on them. Think about avoiding noisy clothing, especially when the principal actors will wear much of the same clothing throughout the film.

• Never allow the actors to wear silk underclothes, especially bras. Cotton tank top T-shirts should be put on actors when possible to help avoid clothes rustle.
• Silk ties should be avoided or at least modify the inside with cotton for primary actors wearing the same wardrobe in several scenes.
• Be sound conscious when choosing chains, necklaces and other jewelry.

PROPS DEPARTMENT

Make an effort to keep noise making props as quiet as possible. Especially in the following most common problem areas:

• With guns, always let the mixer know if it’s full, 1/2 or 1/4 loads, and how many shots plan to be fired and when.
• With table scenes, try to put down a pad or felt underneath the tablecloth to muffle dish-clattering noise.
• Use fake ice cubes in drink glasses.
• In kitchen scenes, put a cloth down where possible dish noise will occur. Spray shopping bags with water mister to get rid of paper noise.

GRIP DEPARTMENT

• Use cutters to kill boom shadows.
• Use all reasonable measures to reduce dolly squeaks. Put a dance floor down if floors creak. Use talcum powder when needed.
• Use blankets to deaden outside sound from open doors and windows.
• Make baffle covers for the loud set machines, fans and ballasts.
• Fasten down scrims that rattle in the wind.
• On insert cars keep extra stands attached to speed rails from clanging.

ELECTRIC DEPARTMENT

• Keep the generator as far away as is reasonably possible. Always use a minimum of 3 banded lengths (150 feet) to the first box, and go back from there. Supply base camp power where possible to avoid loud generators.
• Use all reasonable measures to keep lights and ballasts from making any noise on set, and use extension cabling to keep noisemakers off set.
• Run cables so that windows and doors can close.
• Put variacs on problem dimmers.
• On insert cars, clip and wedge funnels to keep down the rattling sound.

CRAFT SERVICE DEPARTMENT

Set up away from sets so that the coffee makers and other devices can't be heard, especially on stage.

TRANSPORTATION DEPARTMENT

• Plan on pushing or pulling a particularly loud vehicle out of the scene using human manpower when it’s possible during close-up shots.
• Park the trucks as far away from set as reasonably possible and keep the individual generators off during the shot. Put base camp at least 1000 feet from set in quiet locations such as deserts and mountains, and 500 feet away in city locations.
• Help keep insert cars quiet.
• Be prepared to park a truck in front of the generator.
• Instead of running car engines, use alternate quiet power for picture vehicles that must run flashing light effects during the coverage.
• Reward the companies who have taken reasonable steps to keep quiet driving to a maximum. Especially ask if the tail pipe has been rerouted to the front of the truck and if the on board gennie is quiet.
• Use only one key alone in the ignition to eliminate clanging keys.
• Don’t Armor-All the dashboard, and use Simple Green to remove it where mics need to be planted.
• Keep car interior floor area free of all the noisemakers such as the chains, removed side mirrors, nuts and bolts.

ACTORS

To mixers, a good actor is a loud actor. Whenever we get together to discuss our jobs we always talk about how good a voice an actor has. Actors who have done a lot of stage work tend to have learned the art of projecting their voice.

• Don’t refuse to wear a wireless mic when it is necessary.
• Don’t ask a boom operator to get out of their eye line. (Acting has been done with the boom for decades. This is a dangerous precedent we have recently started seeing.)
• Warn the sound department when you will do a much louder or quieter take than was rehearsed.
• Please speak louder when asked. We only ask when we really need it.

DIRECTORS

Collaborate frequently with your sound mixer as you would an editor, composer, DP or writer. We can also enrich your “vision” through sound images. Find out what problems and solutions exist. Don’t fall for the trap where you hate to see your mixer coming because you know it’s just bad news. Your mixer will feel that vibe and start telling you less and less until sound is no longer a vital part of collaboration on your film.

A good rapport with your mixer will allow you to know information about what was borderline and what you can barely get away with. If you simply trust that the mixer is getting good sound, you may be mistaken. It is always possible that the mixer has given up fighting the good sound battle and succumbed to the lack of any positive response to their efforts.

Very often, sound problems are not discovered until the last moment after the other departments have done their work and the set is finally quiet enough to hear through the microphones. The shot sometimes evolves into a sound problem that was unanticipated. Also, we may need a moment or two to make adjustments when creative changes have been made on the spot. Like it or not, sound is a part of your entire film making process from pre-production through production and on to post production. You might as well do it right. If you convey this message to your troops ahead of time, you will be freed up to spend more quality time with other pressing areas of film making.

Remember that certain crew departments such as the UPM and ADs are compelled to watch their production budget, and are not always concerned about the entire cost of a film all the way through post production.

The difference between good sound and bad sound on many shows is only about 5 to 10 minutes a day of doing some added tweaking here, another mic planted, a wireless changed there, quieting footsteps, siliconing a door squeak, room tone, a well-placed blanket, killing a machine that came on during a take, powder on a dolly wheel etc. Usually by the time you print a take, the problems have been solved. If not, another take may be in order. ADs or other crafts who stifle this process will cost you dearly later in post.