The Camera and I are One

A while back, I had an unsettling experience with a young Producer.  I had been hired to shoot a green screen industrial -young female actress spokesperson, in a variety of to be keyed in backgrounds.  I lit the various vignettes to the Director's wishes, she's looking up into a sky light, she's standing on a beach at magic hour - you know the drill.   I was careful to prevent green spill on my actress and set pieces, don't want THAT phone call from the post house.  Towards lunch, the Producer approached me and asked what settings I had dialed in on the camera.  I replied that I had the camera basically in neutral, no crushed blacks, didn't muck with the Matrix, basically just color balanced for the lighting.  "No, I mean what settings did you use to make the picture so beautiful?"  I again gently explained that there wasn't a magic bullet setting that I has used to create the image on her monitor.   "It's just my lighting...." "But what setting did you use, I want to be able to recreate this the next time we shoot"  At this point I realized that she was of the generation that pushing a button or using a setting or piece of software was how you created a look.  No years of serving an  apprenticeship, no paying dues, no skill in lighting required.   I told her the setting was in my head and if she wanted to recreate it, she'd have to hire me again to use that special setting.  I walked off, leaving her puzzled, probably trying to figure out how I mind melded with the camera.....

Listening to It's Heart

A few nights ago, I was standing in a grove of trees in a wash, deep in a high desert canyon, participating in the right of passage of cinematographers in LA - shooting a B horror movie.  Like most every low budget project these days, we were shooting on the Red.  As I hoisted the camera to my shoulder for the 57th time that evening and it settled in next to my right ear, it's fan kicked on, whirring loudly.  Then it hit me - one of the things I missed about shooting 35mm was hearing the soft flutter of the film racing through the gate, the heart beat of the camera.  It was a more organic, calming sound....I know it sounds strange, but hearing that film running through the gate meant all was right in the world, the film was exposing and capturing my vision.  Now, we work with computers jammed into the camera bodies, whirring  and clicking, freezing up and constantly needing to be re booted.   I'm not always assured the image has been layed down to the card.  The Red is a great camera, despite it's short comings, but it doesn't have a heart beat.....