American cinematographer (Jan-Dec 1952)

thought of undertaking such an assignment. But perhaps I gained considerably from working under such adverse conditions. I think that every foot of film a cameraman shoots increases his knowledge of cinematography whether the subject is realistic drama, a soapy melodrama, or a commercial extolling the merits of a can of soup or a deodorant. Wolf, when discussing the new assignment with me, had suggested that perhaps I might find much in pictorial inspira¬ tion for the production through reading a number of pub¬ lished biographies on Martin Luther, and by studying the illustrations. This I did. One dominant idea took root in my mind — I was going to picture the life of Martin Luther with brutal realism. I would definitely avoid all the veneer of artificiality and convention, the cellophane wrapping, the sweetness and fiction too often applied to contemporary films. Here was to be a photographic treatment that would enable audiences to transpose themselves back into centuries of the past and become a part of the drama of that day. I felt I did not want to make this a “picture of photogra¬ phy?” but to treat it with humility. I had not the presumptious desire to paint with light; cinematography is a medium in itself — the result of emotions, sensations and skill. But it is not the content of the picture, either. It is only the texture — the vehicle to taste and significance. It offers only a primi¬ tive plasticity; but we sense in it the elements of a great artistic adventure. With these uncompromising decisions in mind, I landed in Frankfort, Germany, last August. There I met our director, Irving Pichel, and conveyed to him my photographic aspira¬ tions for this assignment. He told me of his own interpretation of the subject. Our evaluations were markedly similar, and we immediately reached harmonious agreement. Together we scouted locations, and here I began to realize for the first time the tremendous scope of the enterprise. I would have to illuminate huge naves in ancient churches, unending corridors in monasteries, immense halls by day and by night; night exteriors with snow on the ground — each set a cameraman’s trap! The studio sets were to cover areas much larger than I had ever before lighted. At the Afifa Studios in Weisbaden, I met “my men” — the operative cameraman and his two assistants, the gaffer and his crew, and the grips and the painters. All were extremely young and eager but admittedly not experienced. By contrast the editor, set designer, sound technician, makeup man, mini¬ ature artist, and costumer all were thoroughly skilled, having worked at the UFA studio in Berlin before and during World War II. Cursory inspection of the available lighting equip¬ ment showed it to be obsolete and in doubtful operating condition. So there I was with that awful sensation of lonliness that had enveloped me before when faced with similar conditions. I decided to share my work with the crews — to give them a substantial part of the responsibilities and to make them fully conscious of it. I told them: “Be the photographer with me.” I had brought along with me my own Eclair Came “300” reflex studio camera, which I consider the most modern and rational camera ever built. Its reflex viewing system, which enables the operator to see the action through the taking lens as the scene is being photographed, makes all other viewing systems obsolete. Here there is no parallax problem. The operator no longer has to rely on the dexterity of his assistant nor of his interpretation of focus. There is practi¬ cally no loss of clarity induced by shutter interference while the camera is running. The shutter is adjustable and opens up to 180°. Focus control for all lenses is made from the outside at three con¬ venient and different points. The finder eyepiece is adjustable within a complete circle, enabling the cameraman to operate (Continued on Page 553) BRUN'S ECLAIR camera permits through-the-lens viewing of scene as it is being photographed, a factor that proved ideally suited to the natural location setups used throughout the picture. Brun is shown here lining up camera for scene in monastery. IT WAS necessary to illuminate huge naves in ancient churches; unending corridors in monasteries, immense halls both by day and by night — "each set a cameraman's trap," said Brun. LIGHTING the largest sets was accomplished by first teaching the gaffers and camera assistants how to use an incident light meter and to evaluate its readings, then directing the lighting from camera position. Note here how depth of set has been emphasized through multiple plane lighting. December, 1952 American Cinematographer 527