Our time with Peter Mackie Burns (aka PMB) was very different to our work with Zam. Zam was very inspirational and abstract (though I think the fundamentals are on their way soon) whereas PMB was very much about the nitty gritty. I missed out on the first few lessons freezing to death on River City but I was there in time to rehearse and shoot the scenes.
Since I had two crew roles, I'll split this into two parts:
First AD, in which I deal with Mr. Tippy-Tappy
My shot at 1st ADing was complicated by several things: the weather meant we had to decamp and rearrange everything and once we were inside we had to contend with filming in a public area. The main problem this posed was when a guest of the hostel decided to surf the web for twenty minutes, spoiling our sound and necessitating a break.
It wasn't a terribly accurate test of my 1st AD potential since we had four hours to shoot a one page scene and it would have taken an act of God to make us go over.
Unfortunately I was struck ill for my second shoot and couldn't make it in.
Directing, in which I test the water
Directing for theatre is something I've always enjoyed, and a role which I fell into naturally; directing for film is a very different process, and I don't think I wholly grasped that before this exercise.
The main difference was that your blocking has to alter for each size of shot. To look natural and well framed, I had to manipulate the distance between my actors unnaturally; instead of finding the right performance I had to find a group of slightly different but not too different good performances.
In the end my scene cut together nicely and it made sense (after the under-covered Home project of last year that was one of the main things I wanted to rectify).
The area it lacked in was really performance. It's certainly not cringe inducing, but it doesn't feel real, the characters aren't actualised. It's a pity, the performances from the rehearsal are ten times better. It's a combination of the actors being inexperienced and me being inexperienced. I could have done more, as PMB put it directed more but there you go, you do you learn. I'm pleased with this as a training exercise.
Bless em, I can't have been the easiest director for Murray and Sam to contend with - I needed a pope's robe we could stain, and then I requested "a girl in a gold bikini". They delivered though, and Murray even got us cream cakes, it was fantastic.
Wednesday, 16 February 2011
Urban Endings: the brief
Just a quick reaction the Urban Endings brief:
I like the idea a lot and while it'll be absolute craziness making thirteen films while also assisting with the grad films it's the kind of craziness I love. We'll be busy and creative and it'll be fantastic. (Ask me how I feel during and I might just make a despairing face.)
My initial idea was developed in the microscopic spaces of time in between lipdub, writing for Richard, the essay for Andy and my own personal out of school project. Phew. However, I think what I've come up with is pretty good and could work well within the brief; I'll see what other people think.
I like the idea a lot and while it'll be absolute craziness making thirteen films while also assisting with the grad films it's the kind of craziness I love. We'll be busy and creative and it'll be fantastic. (Ask me how I feel during and I might just make a despairing face.)
My initial idea was developed in the microscopic spaces of time in between lipdub, writing for Richard, the essay for Andy and my own personal out of school project. Phew. However, I think what I've come up with is pretty good and could work well within the brief; I'll see what other people think.
Lipdub
Lipdub is one of the craziest things I've ever done, it's up there with Delhi.
In fact, Delhi is quite an apt comparison: there was the same freneticism, the same odd displacement as a bunch of filmmakers dance alongside professional musical theatre actors, and the same injury risk. That's how I got out of a hip hop routine.
My own creative input was quite minimal but it was good to watch Murray at work directing and Stephen and David on the camera. TPA maintained their reputation as ridiculously good at their jobs with an amazing stage turnaround, brilliant effects and super cool costumes which they made in virtually no time.
Murray's style reminded me of the silent movie directors from Chaplin, the way he would offer notes and encouragement as we were going (the Rihanna sequence: "He's sexy! sexy!") since there was no sound being recorded. He pushed people pretty hard (we were all knackered by the end) but kept people going with praise and sheer personal energy and I think we'll see the results in the finished product.
In fact, Delhi is quite an apt comparison: there was the same freneticism, the same odd displacement as a bunch of filmmakers dance alongside professional musical theatre actors, and the same injury risk. That's how I got out of a hip hop routine.
My own creative input was quite minimal but it was good to watch Murray at work directing and Stephen and David on the camera. TPA maintained their reputation as ridiculously good at their jobs with an amazing stage turnaround, brilliant effects and super cool costumes which they made in virtually no time.
Murray's style reminded me of the silent movie directors from Chaplin, the way he would offer notes and encouragement as we were going (the Rihanna sequence: "He's sexy! sexy!") since there was no sound being recorded. He pushed people pretty hard (we were all knackered by the end) but kept people going with praise and sheer personal energy and I think we'll see the results in the finished product.
Monday, 14 February 2011
adventures with the 550D, aka: the tortoise and the hare
I am the proud new parent of a Canon 550D, and like any new parent I've experienced some teething pains, so this blog is at least in part to show the rest of you with similar cameras the pitfalls I've found and how to avoid them.
First of all, your card matters. Size wise it will need to be big if you're doing video, especially if you want to shoot at the super shiny 1920x1080 size. What was news to me, though, was that it would have to be "six or above" - in other words, fast enough to process all that video information. I got a 4GB 6 series and a 16GB 10 series, both Sandisks. I went off the advice of a knowledgable seeming bloke in Jessops, who said he wouldn't put his camera in the same room as a Kingston card.
I've been having a lot of fun playing about with its stills capacity, getting to know my lenses and how to work things like appeture and white balance etc. I learned that ISO* is the same as gain for us, and other people call it compensation.
Film wise it's very, very pretty. The video up on stage during lipdub was me, and it bore the increase in size very well.
The biggest stumbling block I encountered was when I went to import all my pretty new files into Final Cut to edit. Like a prize idiot I just copied the files direct from the card via iPhoto (WHY did I think that would work? It's iPhoto for goodness sake!) and then copied the files into my media folder, deleting the originals on the card.
What I found was that FCP ran very slowly, to the point of my footage looking juddery and sticking.
It was only at this point I sought out information about how to deal with this new kind of video ingest and of course I discovered that I had done everything very, very wrong. For details of what to do, check out this great video from Creative Cow, it explains everything.
Luckily for me, all was not lost and I just had to spend ages converting files when I'd far rather be using my time EDITING them.
Aside from the basic learning point about how to import and manage these media files the moral of this story is not to just barge in there all the time, finding out how to do something before you do it can save you headaches and delays later. It's all very Aesop.
*random fact of the day: ISO stands for International Strandards Organisation and used to refer to the light compensation (or gain, to us) of different film stocks back in those prehistoric days when photos were taken on this stuff called film and a computer was a calculator the size of your house.
First of all, your card matters. Size wise it will need to be big if you're doing video, especially if you want to shoot at the super shiny 1920x1080 size. What was news to me, though, was that it would have to be "six or above" - in other words, fast enough to process all that video information. I got a 4GB 6 series and a 16GB 10 series, both Sandisks. I went off the advice of a knowledgable seeming bloke in Jessops, who said he wouldn't put his camera in the same room as a Kingston card.
I've been having a lot of fun playing about with its stills capacity, getting to know my lenses and how to work things like appeture and white balance etc. I learned that ISO* is the same as gain for us, and other people call it compensation.
Film wise it's very, very pretty. The video up on stage during lipdub was me, and it bore the increase in size very well.
The biggest stumbling block I encountered was when I went to import all my pretty new files into Final Cut to edit. Like a prize idiot I just copied the files direct from the card via iPhoto (WHY did I think that would work? It's iPhoto for goodness sake!) and then copied the files into my media folder, deleting the originals on the card.
What I found was that FCP ran very slowly, to the point of my footage looking juddery and sticking.
It was only at this point I sought out information about how to deal with this new kind of video ingest and of course I discovered that I had done everything very, very wrong. For details of what to do, check out this great video from Creative Cow, it explains everything.
Luckily for me, all was not lost and I just had to spend ages converting files when I'd far rather be using my time EDITING them.
Aside from the basic learning point about how to import and manage these media files the moral of this story is not to just barge in there all the time, finding out how to do something before you do it can save you headaches and delays later. It's all very Aesop.
*random fact of the day: ISO stands for International Strandards Organisation and used to refer to the light compensation (or gain, to us) of different film stocks back in those prehistoric days when photos were taken on this stuff called film and a computer was a calculator the size of your house.
Monday, 7 February 2011
Filming Log: Musicville aka "production goblin goes to River City"
There's a point in any demanding shoot where you kind of want to kill everyone, starting with yourself. It's usually near the end, when time is tight, people are tired and things just aren't going to plan. Luckily it's often followed by the point where everything comes together and you love everyone and they're your best friends again.
Musicville was a very tough, very rewarding shoot. The hours were long and the conditions were tough; I certainly wasn't the worst off - I didn't have too far to travel to and from the rendez-vous and unlike the cast, I got to wear a billion layers.
My job varied from day to day, but it could be roughly summed up as a production runner (or "production goblin" if you'd rather, and Murdo did). I looked after cast and crew, moving them around, making the tea etc; I did the calls, informing the entire backlot when we were going for a take; I also did a half dozen other little things that just needed to be done, such as salting the ground and managing the radios.
Possibly my most stressful job was cake wrangling, which involved transporting and caring for a gigantic cake and lighting the candles for takes. That day was, overall, the most stressful. A thick blanket of freezing fog made everyone miserable, the scantily clad actors doubly so, and it also thoroughly messed up our schedule. The cold and the difficulty of that scene (we needed an actor on the cold, wet ground and the cake prop was incredibly awkward) made shooting slow, which caused even more stress. Inbetween set-ups we had to try to prevent the actors from catching hypothermia, which meant bundling them in coats and shoving hot tea at them.
The next day was fantastic, though. We wrapped in good time, the set looked lovely and everyone was happy.
To reflect, I'd say what I learned was how to do things properly. I'm rather fond of the guerrilla, unprofessional style of filmmaking but on a proper set with professional crew, they do things right. I learned that you can't put an actor on a step ladder, legally, but you can put them on stacking wooden boxes. Weird.
I also practiced the ability to put up with awful jobs: I'm now fully qualified to dispose of rotten vegetables and to sweep away the salt I've just put down. It's unpleasant but things like these really are necessary - without it, the film wouldn't work just as much as if the camera operator can't focus.
I think Musicville is going to be a brilliant film, certainly nothing a film school would normally produce, and even though my role was as the lowest of the low I'll be able to see my contribution in the fact that we kept to schedule, the props were where they were meant to be and the actors were kept sweet enough to be able to perform. That matters, and I'm very glad I was able to be on this shoot.
Musicville was a very tough, very rewarding shoot. The hours were long and the conditions were tough; I certainly wasn't the worst off - I didn't have too far to travel to and from the rendez-vous and unlike the cast, I got to wear a billion layers.
My job varied from day to day, but it could be roughly summed up as a production runner (or "production goblin" if you'd rather, and Murdo did). I looked after cast and crew, moving them around, making the tea etc; I did the calls, informing the entire backlot when we were going for a take; I also did a half dozen other little things that just needed to be done, such as salting the ground and managing the radios.
Possibly my most stressful job was cake wrangling, which involved transporting and caring for a gigantic cake and lighting the candles for takes. That day was, overall, the most stressful. A thick blanket of freezing fog made everyone miserable, the scantily clad actors doubly so, and it also thoroughly messed up our schedule. The cold and the difficulty of that scene (we needed an actor on the cold, wet ground and the cake prop was incredibly awkward) made shooting slow, which caused even more stress. Inbetween set-ups we had to try to prevent the actors from catching hypothermia, which meant bundling them in coats and shoving hot tea at them.
The next day was fantastic, though. We wrapped in good time, the set looked lovely and everyone was happy.
To reflect, I'd say what I learned was how to do things properly. I'm rather fond of the guerrilla, unprofessional style of filmmaking but on a proper set with professional crew, they do things right. I learned that you can't put an actor on a step ladder, legally, but you can put them on stacking wooden boxes. Weird.
I also practiced the ability to put up with awful jobs: I'm now fully qualified to dispose of rotten vegetables and to sweep away the salt I've just put down. It's unpleasant but things like these really are necessary - without it, the film wouldn't work just as much as if the camera operator can't focus.
I think Musicville is going to be a brilliant film, certainly nothing a film school would normally produce, and even though my role was as the lowest of the low I'll be able to see my contribution in the fact that we kept to schedule, the props were where they were meant to be and the actors were kept sweet enough to be able to perform. That matters, and I'm very glad I was able to be on this shoot.
Sunday, 16 January 2011
Personal reflection: term 2, week 1
Jeezo, who would have thought I'd have so much to write about only one week in? It was an exciting week so I'll write about the two main things:
Directing workshop with Kenneth Glenaan
Out of nowhere I was asked if I could step in as boom op for this workshop; not one to turn down an opportunity I said yes.
On one side I absorbed a lot about direction through what he was teaching the actors - techniques to raise energy, how to coax a performance out, what looks good on camera and what looks cheesy. He actually trained as an actor which probably gives him an edge; I know I tap into my own experiences acting and being directed (by both geniuses and morons) when I direct.
Also, though, I had a go at boom-op'ing. For some of the scenes it was no more challenging than finding an edge and staying there but one of the scenes we did was exhausting. Any sane sound recordist would have used radio mics but since it was just me and we had neither the skills nor the kit to hand (Graeme was in class) I had to run and dance with the boom, keeping it out of shot but not too far away while the actors and camera moved freely.
Most of the 9 takes I failed at this at one point or another but I'm proud to say that on the last one I kept out - it involved a lot of running, a lot of lifting and the utmost concentration. It also took a moment where I had to explain to Kenny that actually a shorter boom would work better, contrary to his proposition. It's a funny thing - I'm sometimes too concerned with respect and politeness but there are definitely times when one needs to stand one's ground (though I did do it with respect and politeness, obviously).
Principles of directing with Zam Salim
Zam is great. Very engaging, very knowledgable and his classes were fun. The first day we basically just watched films, or at least little bits of films. Aside from anything else it was interesting to see what people picked - some I'd seen before and I enjoyed the repeat, some I'd never seen and would be interested in seeing soon. One I would really like to never see ever. I got to introduce people to In the Mood for Love which is a beautiful film and which got a lot of interest from people wanting to see it.
A lot of what we covered in class was high falutin', pondering stuff - creative vision, the qualities of leadership, one word feelings - but it was also deeply practical. I love the more philosophical end because I do think it makes a difference to the finished product and can make the difference between a well made film and a good film.
It was fun to do some storyboarding on Friday, and rather reassuring to see that while Ridley Scott might draw exquisite boards which look like the development stage of a comic book, directors as great as Martin Scorsese drew crude diagrams.
"Bad storyboards are good storyboards."
And now off I go to do some props sourcing...
Directing workshop with Kenneth Glenaan
Out of nowhere I was asked if I could step in as boom op for this workshop; not one to turn down an opportunity I said yes.
On one side I absorbed a lot about direction through what he was teaching the actors - techniques to raise energy, how to coax a performance out, what looks good on camera and what looks cheesy. He actually trained as an actor which probably gives him an edge; I know I tap into my own experiences acting and being directed (by both geniuses and morons) when I direct.
Also, though, I had a go at boom-op'ing. For some of the scenes it was no more challenging than finding an edge and staying there but one of the scenes we did was exhausting. Any sane sound recordist would have used radio mics but since it was just me and we had neither the skills nor the kit to hand (Graeme was in class) I had to run and dance with the boom, keeping it out of shot but not too far away while the actors and camera moved freely.
Most of the 9 takes I failed at this at one point or another but I'm proud to say that on the last one I kept out - it involved a lot of running, a lot of lifting and the utmost concentration. It also took a moment where I had to explain to Kenny that actually a shorter boom would work better, contrary to his proposition. It's a funny thing - I'm sometimes too concerned with respect and politeness but there are definitely times when one needs to stand one's ground (though I did do it with respect and politeness, obviously).
Principles of directing with Zam Salim
Zam is great. Very engaging, very knowledgable and his classes were fun. The first day we basically just watched films, or at least little bits of films. Aside from anything else it was interesting to see what people picked - some I'd seen before and I enjoyed the repeat, some I'd never seen and would be interested in seeing soon. One I would really like to never see ever. I got to introduce people to In the Mood for Love which is a beautiful film and which got a lot of interest from people wanting to see it.
A lot of what we covered in class was high falutin', pondering stuff - creative vision, the qualities of leadership, one word feelings - but it was also deeply practical. I love the more philosophical end because I do think it makes a difference to the finished product and can make the difference between a well made film and a good film.
It was fun to do some storyboarding on Friday, and rather reassuring to see that while Ridley Scott might draw exquisite boards which look like the development stage of a comic book, directors as great as Martin Scorsese drew crude diagrams.
"Bad storyboards are good storyboards."
And now off I go to do some props sourcing...
Filming log: Behind the Screens
It's a daunting thing, being confronted with a 36 page script. I'm grateful I wasn't one of the actors trying to learn all that dialogue, as it was I was production/continuity/wardrobe and that had its own challenges.
My approach was to take detailed notes of each scene, along with info on script days etc, and to take lots of pictures (thank you iPhone 4). Theoretically nothing could go wrong, and as far as I can tell nothing did; the proof will be in whether Flo, the editor, bangs his head on the desk and bemoans the sudden change in position of a tv remote (or something).
On a little note on continuity, while it's important, I don't think it's the most important thing ever. The people who smugly point out that a prop in the background of The Godfather moves around are missing the point.
I also promised I would sing the praises of Connor our runner. He's applying to DFTV in the very near future and he certainly has a strong work ethic. He was on time, uncomplaining about tasks like "run out and buy some tea lights" and conscientiously asked round the cast and crew for tea and coffee orders. My one criticism would be that he washes up in the most terrifyingly inept way possible, but that's not really relevant.
What I learnt:
"Floozie" can refer to a rather excellent bag you put over a Kino which diffuses the light prettily.
It is possible for a shoot to run on time (well scheduled by Sam and well AD'ed by Murray).
Beware the old 1st AD's technique of lying to the director when you're ahead of schedule. If they find out, when you really are behind schedule it's like the old story of the boy who cried wolf.
I now know how doctors feel when they watch medical programmes: seeing an actor who is a fantastic actor but knows nothing about filming pretend to handle kit is squirm inducing. When you see the film watch out for the part where an XLR is mangled.
Carlo is only 20 years old?? He's brilliant.
I now know how to mark up a board (even if it was Amelie's job and I was just watching).
My approach was to take detailed notes of each scene, along with info on script days etc, and to take lots of pictures (thank you iPhone 4). Theoretically nothing could go wrong, and as far as I can tell nothing did; the proof will be in whether Flo, the editor, bangs his head on the desk and bemoans the sudden change in position of a tv remote (or something).
On a little note on continuity, while it's important, I don't think it's the most important thing ever. The people who smugly point out that a prop in the background of The Godfather moves around are missing the point.
I also promised I would sing the praises of Connor our runner. He's applying to DFTV in the very near future and he certainly has a strong work ethic. He was on time, uncomplaining about tasks like "run out and buy some tea lights" and conscientiously asked round the cast and crew for tea and coffee orders. My one criticism would be that he washes up in the most terrifyingly inept way possible, but that's not really relevant.
What I learnt:
"Floozie" can refer to a rather excellent bag you put over a Kino which diffuses the light prettily.
It is possible for a shoot to run on time (well scheduled by Sam and well AD'ed by Murray).
Beware the old 1st AD's technique of lying to the director when you're ahead of schedule. If they find out, when you really are behind schedule it's like the old story of the boy who cried wolf.
I now know how doctors feel when they watch medical programmes: seeing an actor who is a fantastic actor but knows nothing about filming pretend to handle kit is squirm inducing. When you see the film watch out for the part where an XLR is mangled.
Carlo is only 20 years old?? He's brilliant.
I now know how to mark up a board (even if it was Amelie's job and I was just watching).
Saturday, 15 January 2011
Sunday, 9 January 2011
Production Design: The Dark Knight
Have I mentioned that I'm a bit of a Christopher Nolan fan? Only a few hundred times? Ok, well I am, and I love The Dark Knight - I'd say it's one of his best films, only bettered by Memento and Inception.
It's a brilliant action thriller with spectacular set pieces and a dark, contemplative tone which elevates it from your average explosions and car chases movie.
The production design is very much a part of creating that tone. You can see how it differs from prior, camper, adaptations of the Batman comics clearly in one of the most iconic Batman features: the Batsuit. No PVC nipples for this masked crusader, no, his suit is tough and practical. Its design echoes suits of armour and even the cape has a practical application other than looking dramatic on rooftops.
In a similar vein, the Batmobile here is a heavy duty tank which can transform into a totally awesome motorbike. It suits the rugged tone of the film: a batmobile which hugs the Tarmac and is decked out in fins and spoilers would sit uncomfortably here.
Aside from a very brief sojourn on a yacht the film doesn't stray from a near uniform urban landscape of greys and blacks, concrete and glass. The dense skyscrapers of Gotham feel oppressive, hemming the characters in and in scenes like the public funeral, pose a very real threat.
Ironically, the only spot of colour in this shadowy story is the unquestionably mad villain, the Joker. Against the dark backdrop his purple and green suit and his white and red make-up are all the more stark. His madness is shown in his contrast to the world he lives in, and especially against his nemesis, Batman.
Finally, a small design note which is less stylistic, but more of a necessity. As we discovered on a recent shoot (blog to come soon) to make a film about a very rich character is difficult. The design of the film effortlessly convinces you that yes, Bruce Wayne is obscenely rich. His apartment is luxurious and vast, he wears sharp suits and drives fast cars. Until I can command the kind of money Nolan has at his disposal - the man can build buildings with the express intention of blowing them up - I shalln't be making films about billionaires.
It's a brilliant action thriller with spectacular set pieces and a dark, contemplative tone which elevates it from your average explosions and car chases movie.
The production design is very much a part of creating that tone. You can see how it differs from prior, camper, adaptations of the Batman comics clearly in one of the most iconic Batman features: the Batsuit. No PVC nipples for this masked crusader, no, his suit is tough and practical. Its design echoes suits of armour and even the cape has a practical application other than looking dramatic on rooftops.
In a similar vein, the Batmobile here is a heavy duty tank which can transform into a totally awesome motorbike. It suits the rugged tone of the film: a batmobile which hugs the Tarmac and is decked out in fins and spoilers would sit uncomfortably here.
Aside from a very brief sojourn on a yacht the film doesn't stray from a near uniform urban landscape of greys and blacks, concrete and glass. The dense skyscrapers of Gotham feel oppressive, hemming the characters in and in scenes like the public funeral, pose a very real threat.
Ironically, the only spot of colour in this shadowy story is the unquestionably mad villain, the Joker. Against the dark backdrop his purple and green suit and his white and red make-up are all the more stark. His madness is shown in his contrast to the world he lives in, and especially against his nemesis, Batman.
Finally, a small design note which is less stylistic, but more of a necessity. As we discovered on a recent shoot (blog to come soon) to make a film about a very rich character is difficult. The design of the film effortlessly convinces you that yes, Bruce Wayne is obscenely rich. His apartment is luxurious and vast, he wears sharp suits and drives fast cars. Until I can command the kind of money Nolan has at his disposal - the man can build buildings with the express intention of blowing them up - I shalln't be making films about billionaires.
The Searchers (1956)
As I've said before, Westerns aren't really my thing. I find their tropes repetitious and their treatment of women and races other than white Americans, especially in the John Wayne era, is usually horrid.
In some ways The Searchers was as expected: evil Native Americans, disempowered women, with the worst off being the Native American women (I really hated that the bits with the accidental wife Look were intended as comedy). But then the brutality of the Americans is also shown, and Ethan is clearly shown to be an anti-hero, scalping his enemies and shooting retreating enemies in the back. He even wants to kill his niece for the crime of being married to a "Buck" against her will. The result is a message more along the lines of violence begets violence, or more simply: humans are bastards.
Andy said afterwards that he found the John Wayne character's transformation of heart too sudden but I actually thought it was one of the most delicate and masterfully directed moments of the film: the way he lifts the girl perfectly mirrors the scene at the beginning but the point is not hammered home. I would imagine that a modern film would have a brief flashback scene at that point, so that the slower viewers could grasp it but instead you just have this lovely visual echo.
Overall, I loved the direction. The scenery was shot in beautiful style, looking as bleak and inhospitable as could be. The geographical fudges are accomplished seamlessly (for example, in the climactic scene Ethan and Lucy run up a hill in one state and in the next shot they run down a hill hundreds of miles away), giving you a perfect example of the Kuloshov effect. The film is littered with careful visual repetition, like the example I mentioned above, and the iconic silhouette in the doorway.
One criticism I would make would be that the film charts a search lasting for years and despite the considerable running time I really didn't feel that. It could be because none of the actors seemed to age at all, a limitation of make up and effects at the time perhaps? Seasons seemed to flurry past and suddenly we discovered that years had been and gone.
Certainly if western is a genre you love, this must be a Rolls-Royce, embodying all the best of it for your pleasure and delight. For a non-fan like myself it is a refreshingly good example which, while it shalln't convert me, I can enjoy and admire.
In some ways The Searchers was as expected: evil Native Americans, disempowered women, with the worst off being the Native American women (I really hated that the bits with the accidental wife Look were intended as comedy). But then the brutality of the Americans is also shown, and Ethan is clearly shown to be an anti-hero, scalping his enemies and shooting retreating enemies in the back. He even wants to kill his niece for the crime of being married to a "Buck" against her will. The result is a message more along the lines of violence begets violence, or more simply: humans are bastards.
Andy said afterwards that he found the John Wayne character's transformation of heart too sudden but I actually thought it was one of the most delicate and masterfully directed moments of the film: the way he lifts the girl perfectly mirrors the scene at the beginning but the point is not hammered home. I would imagine that a modern film would have a brief flashback scene at that point, so that the slower viewers could grasp it but instead you just have this lovely visual echo.
Overall, I loved the direction. The scenery was shot in beautiful style, looking as bleak and inhospitable as could be. The geographical fudges are accomplished seamlessly (for example, in the climactic scene Ethan and Lucy run up a hill in one state and in the next shot they run down a hill hundreds of miles away), giving you a perfect example of the Kuloshov effect. The film is littered with careful visual repetition, like the example I mentioned above, and the iconic silhouette in the doorway.
One criticism I would make would be that the film charts a search lasting for years and despite the considerable running time I really didn't feel that. It could be because none of the actors seemed to age at all, a limitation of make up and effects at the time perhaps? Seasons seemed to flurry past and suddenly we discovered that years had been and gone.
Certainly if western is a genre you love, this must be a Rolls-Royce, embodying all the best of it for your pleasure and delight. For a non-fan like myself it is a refreshingly good example which, while it shalln't convert me, I can enjoy and admire.
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