The film has been selected for screening by Kino London #51 on the first night at their new venue; The Electrowerks club in Angel Islington at 8.15pm on the 13th June. Tickets are £4.00 on the door. Don't worry, there are other films too, I'm not trying to recover the costs in one night!
Meanwhile, "THIS BOY" is underway again on the other side but that's another story. And it is told here: http://thisboyfilm.blogspot.co.uk
The extraordinary revolution of the firebird
8 Super Adventures recently completed an animated film tackling issues surrounding life and loss. Throughout the process, Director Ben Owora bounced some of his ideas around on this blog. You mustn't take any of them seriously.
Monday 10 June 2013
Monday 29 April 2013
The Last Post
So, that's it then. Time to start wrapping up the blog having rendered a final print of the movie last night, foley and ADR and all the special effects in place. It's looking a bit of alright! I'll probably jott down a few more ideas here after I've had some feedback on the film, you know me, I like to think in type so there will probably be much more to write about: the release of a film is nothing like the end of a project.
I'm too close to it right now, I've recently spent a lot of hours hammering it out. But it's inevitable that viewers will cast new light on it for me because there will be things I'm either not looking for or can't see any more and it takes an audience to spot something that you didn't think you meant.
I recently went to a screening for a film in which I acted. It being over a year since I actually did the job, I could barely remember the story and so I enjoyed it immensely. I'm not one of those people who hates seeing himself on film, anyway. (Well, see below) More importantly, there were things about the character I played that I didn't know about. Things therefor that I couldn't have deliberately performed. Seeing the character set against others revealed facts about him that I was oblivious to when I was working on him. Turns out he was a bit of a bastard, and I thought he was nice!
I brought that up with the director and he admitted he didn't want to tell me too much for fear of it influencing my performance. That's the way in life too, isn't it? Because we only ever see the scenes that we live in, we are so often unaware of the way our actions and our emotions impact upon others it's a wonder we manage to conduct any kind of effective relationship.
I'm rambling a bit - emotionally knackered - this last month has been a tedious lot. I don't like sitting at a desk long, it makes me cranky. The endless photoshopping and rotoscoping effects, compositing final images and reassembling the process shots I mentioned in the previous post has taken it's toll. Sixteen shots containing some kind of digital effect, would you believe? This was supposed to be a very simple little film!
Now that I'm a little ahead of schedule as far as screening goes, I'm going to take a week or two off from looking at any of it to see if I can come back with a clear head and an open mind. That means I'm not showing it to anyone quite yet. Who knows. There may still be a director's cut to do!
Of course I'm desperately looking forward to people's reaction, if only.to have them tell me what I might have missed.
I'm too close to it right now, I've recently spent a lot of hours hammering it out. But it's inevitable that viewers will cast new light on it for me because there will be things I'm either not looking for or can't see any more and it takes an audience to spot something that you didn't think you meant.
I recently went to a screening for a film in which I acted. It being over a year since I actually did the job, I could barely remember the story and so I enjoyed it immensely. I'm not one of those people who hates seeing himself on film, anyway. (Well, see below) More importantly, there were things about the character I played that I didn't know about. Things therefor that I couldn't have deliberately performed. Seeing the character set against others revealed facts about him that I was oblivious to when I was working on him. Turns out he was a bit of a bastard, and I thought he was nice!
I brought that up with the director and he admitted he didn't want to tell me too much for fear of it influencing my performance. That's the way in life too, isn't it? Because we only ever see the scenes that we live in, we are so often unaware of the way our actions and our emotions impact upon others it's a wonder we manage to conduct any kind of effective relationship.
I'm rambling a bit - emotionally knackered - this last month has been a tedious lot. I don't like sitting at a desk long, it makes me cranky. The endless photoshopping and rotoscoping effects, compositing final images and reassembling the process shots I mentioned in the previous post has taken it's toll. Sixteen shots containing some kind of digital effect, would you believe? This was supposed to be a very simple little film!
Now that I'm a little ahead of schedule as far as screening goes, I'm going to take a week or two off from looking at any of it to see if I can come back with a clear head and an open mind. That means I'm not showing it to anyone quite yet. Who knows. There may still be a director's cut to do!
Of course I'm desperately looking forward to people's reaction, if only.to have them tell me what I might have missed.
Thursday 11 April 2013
Not quite there yet
People who make films are supposed to like David Cronenberg, so it should come as no surprise that I praise him. Having done a hard day's editing, I turned on the television to escape from films for an hour or two, and when Channel 4 suggested I watch "History of Violence" I have to say I wasn't keen. But what a film! It is moving, vicious, funny, harrowing, sensitive and so so beautiful that I was captivated before the first cut. I mean, HOW does he do that?! I guess the answer to that lies somewhere in the 35 industry awards that the film gathered, but I know it got me going before he'd even put a pair of scissors to the thing.
I suppose that demonstrates the power of a good establishing shot. Today has been spent, appropriately, on finalising my own establishing shot. It has been a big effort, three interacting layers; two of animation and one motion background and it all took a surprising amount of time. Remember, I've already shot everything here!
It's actually a pretty satisfactory result to my eye and not far off the original storyboard but it left me wondering if it wouldn't be better just to build bigger sets in future and get it all in one take.
For the rest of it, the film exists as a rough cut right now, rendered at 9pm today - I guess that makes the deadline in a manner of speaking. All the time, I'm learning new things about the process. I have assembled and disassembled shots so often and I've filed frames into so many different folders that the chapter I wrote on data wrangling six months ago is starting to sound naive and blindly optimistic.
The management of data is such a crucial thing on a project even this small. It's all very well your frame-grabber knowing where it saved the raw file for frame no 172 of that sequence you did last May where the woman turns and smiles, but if you need to get into that file yourself to rub out a bit of rigging or a fragment of registration mark using some other software, it could take you so long searching through stack after stack of "dot ORFs" that when you find it you've totally forgotten what you wanted it for.
All the time you're editing and manipulating frames you're trying to keep the quality and resolution as high as you can - so much will be lost to compressors downstream that it will make you cry! I had a moment of concern when I watched an assembly and two of the shots appeared to be out of focus. This was because I'd accidentally asked for Mpeg quality in an early generation long before I imported the clips into the editor.
One day there will be a full featured stop motion management package that will take care of everything for me in all circumstances, but I haven't found it yet. (Things are getting better - I once had to write a very complicated spreadsheet to keep track of a production) However, I'm still depending on eight - yes eight - separate software packages for this post production, so it's vigilance, diligence and an anally-retentive attention to detail for me for now.
If you could only see the workings under all this |
It's actually a pretty satisfactory result to my eye and not far off the original storyboard but it left me wondering if it wouldn't be better just to build bigger sets in future and get it all in one take.
For the rest of it, the film exists as a rough cut right now, rendered at 9pm today - I guess that makes the deadline in a manner of speaking. All the time, I'm learning new things about the process. I have assembled and disassembled shots so often and I've filed frames into so many different folders that the chapter I wrote on data wrangling six months ago is starting to sound naive and blindly optimistic.
The management of data is such a crucial thing on a project even this small. It's all very well your frame-grabber knowing where it saved the raw file for frame no 172 of that sequence you did last May where the woman turns and smiles, but if you need to get into that file yourself to rub out a bit of rigging or a fragment of registration mark using some other software, it could take you so long searching through stack after stack of "dot ORFs" that when you find it you've totally forgotten what you wanted it for.
"Poppylands" exposure charts: now mercifully redundant |
One day there will be a full featured stop motion management package that will take care of everything for me in all circumstances, but I haven't found it yet. (Things are getting better - I once had to write a very complicated spreadsheet to keep track of a production) However, I'm still depending on eight - yes eight - separate software packages for this post production, so it's vigilance, diligence and an anally-retentive attention to detail for me for now.
Monday 25 March 2013
Deadlines looming
It's hard to believe it'll ever be finished! |
However there is an undeniable feeling of satisfaction when the animation comes to an end and you know you have those ephemeral, slippery performances locked down on a collection of frames; a mere 3055 individual images in this case.
It's a good time just now, a lot of projects are concluding for me. These last few takes, for example, have been held up by a naive attempt of mine at directing live action. Boy, that's hard! I don't know where people find the patience. So that went up last week freeing up several hours for what I've always affectionately (anachronistically) called the Firebird Production Schedule. A fabulous work of fiction!
I've set myself the arbitrary deadline of 10th April to complete the film. I'm not necessarily going to make it any more than all those other deadlines I've set myself in the past, but I have got an inclination towards screening dates, the first of which may be towards the end of April so....
Calling the final slate last night, I felt the same kind of satisfaction as when the fabrication was complete, the sets were ready and the filming could start. Only a year ago, I remember getting very frustrated that, much as I loved building and painting the scenery, sewing (Yes, sewing! Me!) the costumes and styling hair and make up on the puppets, I hadn't fired the shutter once in three months!
Looping ADR is the really fun part! |
...It might give the financiers an ulcer but, really, isn't that going to happen anyway?
Monday 11 February 2013
Flies like a bird
The bird was the first puppet I cast for this film. I'd never done a bird before and I honestly can't remember whether the story spread from my desire to fly a bird or whether it was purely coincidental.
I've shot a couple of slates with the bird this week and I have to admit there's a certain freedom in anthropomorphising a flying animal. I've spent so much of the last year idly watching birds in preparation for the role. It's quite a complex and beautiful act, flying. You can see why the ancient artists and inventors were so desperate to get themselves wings made of feathers.
An aeroplane is a lovely instrument and perhaps living ten years next to a busy airport has left me complacent about the spectacle of those giant metal creatures taking to the air but the majestic grace of a large bird flying is something much more inspirational. Even the humble pigeon is a more sophisticated flier than the cleverest airbus. Watch that one dart across the square hardly moving a wing then gently alighting in the space between those two metal spikes by the CCTV camera.
Richard Bach wrote Jonathan Livingston Seagull to express the idea of intellectual and spiritual freedom. A Seagull was the perfect bird to describe this, if you've ever watched them ducking and wheeling across the sky, the speed of their diving for morsels describes a great skill underlying their airborne squabbles for old chips. You can see in it the single minded ambition of a scavenger bird. Our contemporary urban existence is, in fact, not dissimilar to the lives lived by pigeons, gulls and other municipal nuisances.
Pigeons, for example, live huddled together in communities near transport links and food outlets, ignoring hierarchy when they choose. They indulge in and are the victims of petty crime and muggings. Their youngsters can be particularly antisocial.
I saw a gang of adolescent pigeons on Staines High Street last year deliberately buzzing passers by, forcing them to dive out of the way. The pigeons gained nothing from it and they totally seemed to be doing it for a laugh. A kind of Avian Happy-Slapping.
Pigeons gather in groups on the shed roof at the end of the park and on the signal of a leader they all set off as a single body on a circular flight around the park to land on the same roof. I've seen joggers and rollerbladers doing much the same thing. It's sport. We've achieved Michelangelo's dream of living the lives of birds.
Where was I going with this?
I've shot a couple of slates with the bird this week and I have to admit there's a certain freedom in anthropomorphising a flying animal. I've spent so much of the last year idly watching birds in preparation for the role. It's quite a complex and beautiful act, flying. You can see why the ancient artists and inventors were so desperate to get themselves wings made of feathers.
An aeroplane is a lovely instrument and perhaps living ten years next to a busy airport has left me complacent about the spectacle of those giant metal creatures taking to the air but the majestic grace of a large bird flying is something much more inspirational. Even the humble pigeon is a more sophisticated flier than the cleverest airbus. Watch that one dart across the square hardly moving a wing then gently alighting in the space between those two metal spikes by the CCTV camera.
Richard Bach wrote Jonathan Livingston Seagull to express the idea of intellectual and spiritual freedom. A Seagull was the perfect bird to describe this, if you've ever watched them ducking and wheeling across the sky, the speed of their diving for morsels describes a great skill underlying their airborne squabbles for old chips. You can see in it the single minded ambition of a scavenger bird. Our contemporary urban existence is, in fact, not dissimilar to the lives lived by pigeons, gulls and other municipal nuisances.
Runners gather at the telephone post |
Pigeons fly around the park |
Pigeons gather in groups on the shed roof at the end of the park and on the signal of a leader they all set off as a single body on a circular flight around the park to land on the same roof. I've seen joggers and rollerbladers doing much the same thing. It's sport. We've achieved Michelangelo's dream of living the lives of birds.
Where was I going with this?
Monday 4 February 2013
Wind Reel and Print
That's what I said. It's a WRAP. And after only a year, that's got to be a record! Actually you can relax, you're nowhere closer to seeing the finished product, this is the end of block ONE and that just means that all the human activity and dialogue is shot. It is also, as the title suggests; processed, printed, synched and chucked into AVID for a rough cut.
I've been answering a lot of questions about the film recently, I'm even negotiating a first screening date, I feel like a proper little producer this month! It's possible the film's title will change to better reflect the direction which will totally mess up this blog.
So I'm getting used to the ideas behind the film again: what it is that I'm trying to say. I imagine I'll have to find ways to describe it to people. It's a very simple story. After all, it's three minutes long and there's only so much that you can say in that time.
Firebird basically describes the moment of turnaround between spiraling despair and hope. It's coming up on the year since I started working on this and that is not lost on me. Of course it's been a terrible season (In case you came in late, I'll again mention that winter is not for me) but I've got through it by ignoring and hoping it will go away - that seems to be working. See? It's February already! In any case I now have the advantage of lucidity and precious distance to critically view my own behavior and decisions in that other time when things were at their worst. I needn't bore you with the details but while it would be unfair to say that those situations were not bad, my instinctive reactions to them did not help me and they certainly hurt others.
That's the state the central character is in, absorbed in fighting for her own sense of existence, she has ignored how important that existence is to the other people in her life. The Firebird forces her to look outside of herself.
Block TWO, meanwhile, is well underway. All the stuff that the bird actually does. It's about six shots and it plays the counterpoint narrative. No dialogue does make it shoot faster. I have to say, latex and wire are not the most dextrous of materials for lip movement, but they have a tenacity and have given me some pleasant surprises.
It's down to the rigging of the face, right? I've learned some valuable - and expensive - lessons about puppet fabrication. Latex skin is surprisingly tough and takes a lot of pushing to get the wire supporting it to move. When it does move, the most interesting things happen. Unlike clay which lets you move bits independently, stick bits on and shave bits off, latex just tugs frantically at other areas of the face - eye lids, nostrils etc, really anywhere that there is space to give. The resulting expressions are more diverse and imaginative than I could ever control. These little characters really do take on a life of their own and that's why they've taken quite as long to animate as they have.
Animating hair is a story all it's own.
I've been answering a lot of questions about the film recently, I'm even negotiating a first screening date, I feel like a proper little producer this month! It's possible the film's title will change to better reflect the direction which will totally mess up this blog.
So I'm getting used to the ideas behind the film again: what it is that I'm trying to say. I imagine I'll have to find ways to describe it to people. It's a very simple story. After all, it's three minutes long and there's only so much that you can say in that time.
Firebird basically describes the moment of turnaround between spiraling despair and hope. It's coming up on the year since I started working on this and that is not lost on me. Of course it's been a terrible season (In case you came in late, I'll again mention that winter is not for me) but I've got through it by ignoring and hoping it will go away - that seems to be working. See? It's February already! In any case I now have the advantage of lucidity and precious distance to critically view my own behavior and decisions in that other time when things were at their worst. I needn't bore you with the details but while it would be unfair to say that those situations were not bad, my instinctive reactions to them did not help me and they certainly hurt others.
Bad Hair Day |
Block TWO, meanwhile, is well underway. All the stuff that the bird actually does. It's about six shots and it plays the counterpoint narrative. No dialogue does make it shoot faster. I have to say, latex and wire are not the most dextrous of materials for lip movement, but they have a tenacity and have given me some pleasant surprises.
It's down to the rigging of the face, right? I've learned some valuable - and expensive - lessons about puppet fabrication. Latex skin is surprisingly tough and takes a lot of pushing to get the wire supporting it to move. When it does move, the most interesting things happen. Unlike clay which lets you move bits independently, stick bits on and shave bits off, latex just tugs frantically at other areas of the face - eye lids, nostrils etc, really anywhere that there is space to give. The resulting expressions are more diverse and imaginative than I could ever control. These little characters really do take on a life of their own and that's why they've taken quite as long to animate as they have.
Animating hair is a story all it's own.
Wednesday 5 December 2012
Closing In
I'm shooting close-ups just now. They are my favourite bits because these are the shots that tell the audience what the character is thinking and feeling. Arguably the most critical parts of a film. There's also less for the audience to look at so accuracy in things like lip sync and eye movements are important to convey meaning. Absolutely vital is the registration of the puppet's position on the screen so she doesn't jump around and become painful to watch. On a small stage like this (Roughly 1/8th scale) a movement of less than a millimetre is simply HUGE in a close up.
I've said before that animation is like acting through puppets and that is never more true than in the close shot. I find therefore that it helps to have the camera close to the puppet when I'm taking them.
The same is true of live action, by the way. Every actor, no matter how engrossed in the pretense of the role; knows where his audience is and when he is performing for a close up, the size of his action (Oi, behave!) changes from when he is playing in a long or medium shot.
It's only human nature: his audience is up close in front of him so, psychologically, he doesn't feel like he has to project his acting to the back stalls but can express a complex thought with a tiny twitch of his eyelid.
Just so in animation, with the camera so close that it almost gets in the way of your working, you are constantly aware that the performance of subtle movements in the eyes or of a swaying strand of hair needs only to travel a couple of inches to it's audience, so you instinctively make those micro-millimetre changes necessary from frame to frame.
Then there's the walk cycles. One still to go on that front, damn, but they're hard to do! This recent slate with the character walking reverently from background to foreground used up all of the rigging tools that I had, switching between screw-downs from under the stage - only necessary while his feet are in view, then moving on to a clamp attached to the rigging point on the puppet's pelvis and when the boom arm from that could no longer be hidden by his robe, a vertical pole and spreader and finally my personal favourite, the "bobbing up and down on a stick" device as he comes into focus.
Something that didn't occur to me until this is that all that rigging, though invisible to the camera, casts shadows on the set. Shadows that you don't notice until they mysteriously disappear as you change the rig type. Just to the left of frame is a collection of black flags creating replacement shadows where the big black rigging boom used to be. It's been a trial but it's come out a lovely shot. It's too near the end of the film to show it to you in full here so, no.
I've said before that animation is like acting through puppets and that is never more true than in the close shot. I find therefore that it helps to have the camera close to the puppet when I'm taking them.
Now what is Tom Hardy thinking? |
It's only human nature: his audience is up close in front of him so, psychologically, he doesn't feel like he has to project his acting to the back stalls but can express a complex thought with a tiny twitch of his eyelid.
Just so in animation, with the camera so close that it almost gets in the way of your working, you are constantly aware that the performance of subtle movements in the eyes or of a swaying strand of hair needs only to travel a couple of inches to it's audience, so you instinctively make those micro-millimetre changes necessary from frame to frame.
Then there's the walk cycles. One still to go on that front, damn, but they're hard to do! This recent slate with the character walking reverently from background to foreground used up all of the rigging tools that I had, switching between screw-downs from under the stage - only necessary while his feet are in view, then moving on to a clamp attached to the rigging point on the puppet's pelvis and when the boom arm from that could no longer be hidden by his robe, a vertical pole and spreader and finally my personal favourite, the "bobbing up and down on a stick" device as he comes into focus.
Something that didn't occur to me until this is that all that rigging, though invisible to the camera, casts shadows on the set. Shadows that you don't notice until they mysteriously disappear as you change the rig type. Just to the left of frame is a collection of black flags creating replacement shadows where the big black rigging boom used to be. It's been a trial but it's come out a lovely shot. It's too near the end of the film to show it to you in full here so, no.
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