American cinematographer (Jan-Dec 1941)

Production still of the same scene as filmed. Note how closely Director Wiles and Cinematographer Alton followed their pre-production plan for the scene. ceeds to dress it with furniture and props of the correct Georgian design. Finally the set is completed and the picture is probably well into production. And the cinematographer at last comes into that set. He comes on cold. Nine times out of ten, he's never seen it before — and the tenth time he has had opportunity for only a glance the night before as he makes a quick survey to tell his gaffer how he wants the set rigged for the next day's shooting. But when he finally comes on that set, the director of photography knows one thing. He has, as we've said, some 14 pages of script to film on that set. But he doesn't deal primarily in written or spoken words. To him, those L4 pages of script mean from 28 to 60 )!• more camera-setups. Or, to put it more accurately, between 30 and 60 urn positions — compositions which must <ie artistically good and dramatically elling. Maybe more, if the camera is o dolly or ride a boom. Now I flatter myself that as an 'irtist I know a little something about omposition. But I know very positivey I could not walk into any set or oom "cold" and create 60 compositions i.t the snap of a finger. Certainly not 0 which were both artistically sound n.nd dramatically forceful. And while our directors of photogaphy are faced with that sort of probem daily, I don't think they're very luch more successful at it. Heaven ! nows, they're greater artists than most If us give them credit for being, and rained from long years of experience i sense compositions almost instinctivej. But I'm sure that most of them .ill candidly admit that in such a sitution they'd emerge with perhaps a ozen or so really good compositions, nd the rest mediocre or worse. On the other hand, suppose the disctor of photography had had the oportunity to work on the final stages f that script's pre-production preparaon with the director, the art-director nd the writers. Between them they Duld work out a visual breakdown:ript for every bit of action occuring ' ) that set. They could sketch things ut, planning each cut, movement and nnera-angle for composition and dralatic value before an inch of film was )ot. They could walk on the completed t, not faced with a pi'oblem of snatchig' compositions out of thin air and lanning dramatically graphic action on le spur of the moment, but with a . >mplete visual script ready-prepared 'forehand, with each cut and set-up irefully sketched out — and the set and I s dressing planned for it. This sort of arrangement will have any immediate advantages. In the 1 kst place, as might be expected, the nematographer will have an accurate an of his compositions on every phase of the action — a plan in the preparation of which he participated personally. Of course he will to some extent vary his actual shot from the pre-planned sketch as minor changes in casting, costuming, and so on make slight changes in camera-treatment necessary. But he'll have something tangible to work from — a carefully thought-out basis for good, graphic compositions, rather than having to snatch things out of thin air at the last minute. The director and cutter will find the flow of action on the screen smoother and more natural. In all probability this type of planning will do much to minimize or eliminate the need for "protection shots," for the advance study and collaboration that goes into making such a sketched-out plan will inevitably give a good indication of what angles will be needed in the final cut, and what won't. This should save a great deal of valuable time on the set; in some cases, it can simplify set-construction, eliminating portions needed for "protection" angles, and naturally saving on set-cost. In any event, both director and cinematographer will be able to do their work quicker and better because of the time they've spent planning out each detail beforehand. And — perhaps the greatest advantage of all — the results on the screen will be more visually compelling. Each cut, angle and set-up will have been carefully planned beforehand to put the maximum of visual dramatic value on the screen. In some instances, this technique may well lead to minimizing dialog; but in any event the picture will have more "punch" because the visual impact of each scene is a thing of careful planning rather than luck. It may be objected that a system like this represents an ideal, which can't be attained under actual production conditions. Those who raise this criticism are simply overlooking the fact that in isolated instances it has been done and is being done. William Cameron Menzies almost invariably works this way; I am sure he is doing so on his current film, "King's Row" — and that Director Sam Wood and Director of Photography James Wong Howe, A.S.C., are turning out a more forceful picture because of it. Some few others have to varying extents used and benefited from this system. I have employed it myself on a number of productions, both as director and as artdirector. As a matter of fact, the most discussed picture of the year — Orson Welles' "Citizen Kane" — must inevitably have made use either of this system or of something very closely like it. Whether you like the picture or not, you cannot deny that from start to finish there was a sincere — and in the most part, successful — effort made to coordinate the visual presentation with the dramatic. And everyone in the industry has commented on the fact that "Citizen Kane's" young producer-director, Orson Welles, embarked on this production with no previous motion picture training and proceeded to do things with camera and microphone which the rest of us, whether or not we may have inwardly regarded them as technically possible, had certainly failed to do. To my mind — and with no intention of detracting from Welles' admittedly great ability — the greatest factor in his film's (Continued on Page 394) American Cinematographer August, 1941 367