Here’s a situation which must surely be all-too-common to those who aspire to Documentary
film or video-making.
Your magnum opus is taking shape on the timeline. You have arrived at a final and ‘viable’
commentary after countless revisions and laid it out on your video-editor’s timeline, but only in the certain knowledge, of course, that it will have to be re-spaced many times to mould it into its final form. You have added most, or all, of the video ‘clips’, with due regard for many
factors, pace, content, fidelity to the commentary and so-on. Everything is going swimmingly until you pop the last clip into its provisional slot and find yourself overcome by the temptation to see how it all ‘looks’ and ‘sounds’. Indeed, if you are anything like me, you will do this
several times and that, is likely a good idea, because here is what will happen:
You are carried away by your first review of it all. Sure there are things still to be attended to, but everything is in-place, and you are bound to be impressed. Thus fortified, you cannot
resist the temptation to run it again, and likely, again after that. It is only then, that you begin to see the ‘real’ feature, as it is, (not merely as it was intended to be), and by now you have become aware that there is ‘something missing’; but what?
A Case in point.
Well, at least that was my recent experience, and I guess it has been yours, many times. In my case, the feature was a composite of half-a-dozen trips over a stretch of coastline, or at least part of it, which began at Otakou on the Otago Peninsula, crossed the Peninsula to
Harington Point with the landowner’s permission, and followed the coastline southwards to Papanui Inlet, some kilometres to the south. Very few people are aware of this walk, which is quite spectacular in many places but crosses a great deal of private farmland and so, is
unlikely to ever become a public walkway. However, it was my intention to share the
experience with others, and so clips from a number of partial trips were being put-together into a composite ‘grand-tour’ which traversed the entire route, and left-out nothing of value.
Since I had the luxury of listening to the commentary, (which had been ‘first’ into the timeline, as usual); as I took in the ‘visuals’ I did have some advantage. The whole thing was basically a ‘rough-out’ of what was finally intended, and I was fully aware that many agonising hours
lay between what I had at-the-time, and the finished product.
What was missing?
I checked, and re-checked the general ebb-and-flow of the production, the relaxed, rather languid areas, and those where the pace was intended to quicken to add some ‘urgency’ to proceedings. I had already written, orchestrated, and ‘performed’ some of the music I had in-mind. The first stages, the walk across the Peninsula had, as background, a marching theme, to be played at quite low volume, since there had to be commentary overlaid onto it. It had used strings played ‘pizzicato’, (eg ‘plucked rather than bowed), so that the commentary wouldn’t disappear into the music, as sometimes happens; although commentaries, around-the-coast, are much more likely to ‘disappear’ into the ever-present background sound of the sea, and have the ‘ess-words’, (note, not ‘eff-words’), swallowed up by sea-sounds; a problem which makes it very hard to distinguish between the ‘singulars’ and ‘plurals’ in the
commentaries. Several playings later, it suddenly occurred to me where I had gone-wrong.
‘Relentless Commentaries’
The nature of my trip was such, that commentary was frequently called-for. Many aspects of the trip, including details of two shipwrecks, were matters of ‘history’, and neither had much,
if anything at all in the way of pictorial back-up, because one wreck, which took place in the 1870’s probably pre-dated photography in our area. The other, took place in 1943, but there had been some speculation, and quite unfounded rumour, that what was, in effect, the return from a fishing trip, had had some sinister ‘military’ significance. In both cases then, the
commentary would be called-upon to furnish the missing information, even although, I had
superb high-definition footage of the 1943 wreck and what there is of the 1870’s one as well.
Again, I had spent half an hour up very close to a female sealion and her pup and had some very good footage which I intended to use, but which required some information as to the bleak future of the pup if, for any reason, the mother failed to return from a ‘fishing-trip’. I had underlined the ‘point’, by using a ‘library’ shot for which I had been trying to find a use, a rim-lit shot of the winter sun setting behind a clump of marram grass on the sandhills, (of quite
another beach), to produce a feeling of unease, (in that ‘it’s sundown, and Mum’s not back’). Looked at from that perspective, it can be quite chilling, and sealions do ‘plant’ their pups in the protection of the sandhills when they go to sea to feed. So, in one way or another I had plenty to ‘say’, but it was, even so, highly relevant to the many aspects of the unfolding tale.
So, what do we mean by ‘relentless commentaries’? Well, basically I have in-mind those which have become mere recitals of facts and figures, those which are simply too flat and
humourless for their own good and those which come across as simply too ‘earnest’. For,
basically, despite the fact that you may well have an absorbing interest in some aspects of your ‘feature’, those are unlikely to be shared by your typical ‘cross-section of New Zealand
society’ audience. In fact, by far the majority of those who are likely to be viewing your
productions at any single time, are seeking to be entertained, not ‘informed’, and if your ‘opus’ fails to deliver on that level, then, it fails to deliver, overall.
But, my commentary failed on yet another score. The onslaught of information was not only relentless, but its fidelity to fact, even the way it complemented the visuals to near-perfection, had made its delivery almost ‘mechanical’, and in-a-way, predictable.
The Problem, with One-Man Documentaries’
The problem with one-man documentaries is that small ‘bridging’ pieces of continuity content
material are hard to find, and if absent, even harder to substitute for. Since the nature of my trip was the usual ‘stop/start’ of any walking trip, shots tend to be taken only when the tripod is set down, its legs extended, and ‘progress’ recorded. Therefore, from the viewing standpoint, the landscape continuously re-invents itself, but there is no supplementary material showing just how or why that is taking-place. Travelling in a group is altogether different, since shots
of other people’s feet wading through grass, their reactions on seeing a fresh landscape for the first time, the usual minute-to-minute goings-on of typical tramping, may all be
incorporated into building up a sense of continuity. Unless that is done, your production is in grave danger of degenerating into an ‘animated slide-show’. For the last six years, that aspect of what I do, has been the curse of my existence.
So, what can be done about it?
A succession of knock-out shots, per-se, does not a movie-make; in fact, it becomes somewhat boring and similar to being forced to share a confined space with someone who
habitually communicates only by shouting. Part of the variation which your production needs, may be padded-out by shots of a quite ‘normal’ character, dealing only with incidentals. That will ensure that your ‘knockout’ shots, when used, register with the intended impact. Your
video or movie will then have ‘high’ and ‘low’ points, like life. Where the interest is bound to flag a bit, prepare a trap for them musically, if you can, with a brief and simple interlude which is able to prepare them, subconsciously, for an incoming ‘major-event’. I am unbelievably
lucky that a parallel interest in music allows me to invent what I need for any given situation.
In my video, I climb over ‘Akatapu,’ a landscape feature which rises almost sheer to around 130 metres above the sea. But, before you may enjoy the view from Akatapu’s summit you have a protracted uphill slog around the margin of the cliffs. Then, exchange of one visual
‘landscape’ for another could become tiring. That is able to be offset, up-to-a-point, by putting in a background of appropriate music, in this case a deliberately ‘plodding’ theme which
underscores the physical nature of the climb upwards. But, to simply ‘plod’ up the final 100 metres or so to the summit would be a more ‘ordinary’ experience than it should be. The
temptation was to use the theme ‘Sunrise’ from the ‘Daphnis and Chloe’ ballet-suite by Ravel.
It fits perfectly, but film and video-wise, it has tended to be flogged-to-death over the years.
‘Sunrise’ is an unusual piece of music. From the chaos of half-heard, brief woodwind phrases
which are intended to imitate the world coming to life as the first rays of a new day light-up the landscape, it builds, very slowly, to a huge but surprisingly controlled, climax. At the crucial moment, Ravel takes the heat away from under the process and leaves it to ‘simmer-down’.
The exhange of mood calls for strings, and harp to take-over from the more strident wood- winds and brass. The same idea may be used as a template for an original piece of music. Mine, too, ‘builds’ as the summit looms nearer and is ‘let-down’ in the same way, but it is not Ravel’s theme or anything like it, it’s a one-off ‘original’; and guess what, it ‘works’.
The Sounds of Music
So, music may be used to add variety to the ongoing ‘action’ of your production. But, it must be used judiciously, or not at all. No matter how meritorious your music is, (and mine varies, a bit, but is usually adequate), a production, such as mine, delivering three-quarters of an hour
on-the-trot, gives limited opportunities for such ‘interludes’, and I would be wary of pulling that stunt more than twice, in that length of time.
Also, there is some audience benefit, in allowing the punters to occasionally, soak up the
‘ambience’ with a background which consists, solely, of the sounds of nature. By overdoing the music, and making it more-or-less continuous, you are making it into too much of a chore.
‘Film’ music is not like ‘ordinary’ music, it is essentially structureless and doesn’t lend itself to ‘bites’ of four, eight or sixteen bars as classical music does. Instead, ‘film’ music follows- the-action. Indeed, sometimes it may begin a second or two ‘ahead’, so that instead of simply
mirroring a key event, the punters may be prepared, in advance for something to follow, and,
I am able to think of no better instance than the ‘Jaws’ theme which usually preceded shots of some poor sod being rendered down into ‘Munchie-tucker’, in the movie of the same name.
Even more Basic......... Commentary.
Usually commentary follows a script. That works to its disadvantage, because, usually more emphasis is placed upon it from the outset, as ‘reading-well’ rather than ‘speaking well’. We all become self-conscious when speaking to a microphone and before we have realised it, by recording time, we have laid the foundation for the usual ritualised incantation which too many of our commentaries have been allowed to become.
One solution is to think in terms of ‘speech’ as much as content. The general rule, is to
‘keep-it-simple’, but to carry that to excess, means that its delivery will come across as being
directed towards an audience of backward six-year-olds. If you string too many words
together into a single stream of thought, you stand to leave everybody floundering in your wake. Now, here’s a secret which I am convinced, works. Don’t forego the longer sentences
in favour of a ‘staccato’ or ‘sound-bite’ delivery; work on that aspect, and especially its
phrasing, until your longer sentences ‘work’ as well. Pay special attention as to how your
sentences would ‘sound’ in everyday speech, and record them, using the same everyday
emphases, and not a mantra-like chant. Then, in the process of putting-it-across, use
perfectly normal everyday inflections of voice and ‘speak’ rather than intone, or chant. Above all, don’t be in-a-rush when delivering your lines and begin to gabble, ‘TV-News’ fashion.
I seldom put a ‘finished’ commentary onto my timelines. Instead, to get things rolling I do a ‘provisional’ version, which need not be perfect, to give me a ’road-map’ as to future timing.
The idea is, that the provisional reading books the space I will need for the later ‘polished’
version. That allows me to make considerable progress into my editing without too much
delay. Later, sometimes much later, I do it all again, this time under ideal conditions and when I am in ‘good-voice’, (which is seldom), at a time of my own choosing. It’s not hard, using the original script, to duplicate the ‘timing’ of the original delivery, as long as there have been no major alterations in the meantime. Of course, blanket alterations or additions call for the script to be changed, and a fresh ‘pilot’ commentary sequence to be substituted for the original in both the script, and in the timeline. In that way, your commentaries may evolve, adapting to changing situations and the possible availability of additional information, as you go.
Back to ‘Breathing Space’ Again.
If your productions are not to descend into unrelenting recitals of facts and statistics; to hold their own, as ‘entertainment’ as well as informing, they have to take into consideration the
comparatively short attention-spans, (and likely getting shorter by-the-year), of those who will eventually see and hear them. Ruling out those whose vocabularies consist of little other than the words ‘stink’ and ‘awesome’, and the ‘pointy-headed’ brigade at the other extreme, your target demographic lies somewhere in-between, with perhaps, a preponderance of the
‘pointies’ if your subject is of a specialised nature. As with all such exercises, yours is one of, essentially, communication and if you haven’t successfully bridged that interface between your equipment and your audience, then ‘Brother, you’ve Failed’.
Commentaries, facts-and-figures and overly ‘earnest’ deliveries all work against you and are matters which should be addressed; but a barrage of unbroken verbiage, is the most off-
putting of all. Your productions need ‘breathing-space’, or periods when the principal interest is to be conveyed visually, by music, recorded live-sounds, or by simply ‘shutting-up’ at times and letting the action take-over. You ignore that aspect of film/video-making, at your peril.
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