Letter to Crew and Cast

Hopefully everyone survived the downfall and subsequent re-rise of western civilization. I spent 48 hours without power, the first 20 forgetting that I had a propane bbq out back, hoping that I wasn't going to stave to death... It has made me think about how delicate the strings are the hold the world as we know it together. I imagined our movie being halfway through production and the the power goes out for good... Or even worse, being done and never having a way to watch it again. I do not believe that it is all about to fall right now, but there will be a day when DVD players don't work, our formats become antiquated, whatever we have done will float away into the ether. That saddened me. In a way, I think that if I don't have something to show for what I have done, then it didn't really happen. Maybe that is just a vestige of being a videographer, of being so attached to the camera, and letting the camera say the things that I cannot. Motion pictures and memory are tied in many ways, and the best thing about them is that they can be shared. There is immense power in that sharing, a kind of validation that doesn't happen anywhere else, and that seems to be something that draws me to the motion picture, and all forms of communication.
But something about this line of thinking does not seem right. Maybe this production and everything we have ever done, our lives, are more like zen gardens. Ephemeral, temporary, beautiful. Maybe the need to hold on to these things - or the symbols that represent them is a foolish and futile effort. We exist, we did things, we were great, or not great, and that's what we have...
But the real reason that I am writing this is to inform all of you of the good news. We have found a Production Manager / Assistant Director. Her name is Vinessa Knowles (that's Vinessa with an I) and I have worked with her before over the summer on a production where I was the DP, Brad was the Gaffer (they should really make a new position on film crews called Monkey - someone who knows a lot about everything and is around to assist at a high level whatever needs to be assisted, like a PA on steroids and crack - that would more accurately describe what he did) Geerah was the Art Director and Ashley was her assistant. The point being that I have worked with her and trust her. She was the most competent person at her job on the set, and she is the reason the movie got made despite the Director not having a really clear vision and my grandiose (nearly unattainable) vision of a near future dystopia. So she is the new point person for everything schedule, money, location, time, food, whatever, anything that is not intention, character, being in the moment, color, shape, line, you know, things like that...

Morgan writer/director

Morgan's ramblings about visual continuity, contrast, and the emotional quality of codecs.

I just read the post and decided that nobody could understand it without a little contextual information. It has always been the plan to shoot unicorns on multiple formats, in chapters, in order to take full advantage of the children's storybook conceit and to offer multiple perspectives. This last week we have been discussing the advantages and disadvantages of this and beginning to wrap our head around which format is going to be where and why. Most of our discussions have been about the emotional and political connotations that these formats and codecs have, and have been trying to pinpoint ways to fully realize their potential. This are my thoughts about the subject:

Visual storytelling – contrast creates tension, affinity creates lack of tension. As the tension in the script progresses, the visualization of that story adds more contrast in it's elements. Elements generally don't have any emotional quality on their own. Red can mean whatever you want it to mean, whatever you tell the viewer it means. Look at Pee Wee's Big Adventure. Burton creates a very contrasty, black and white spotlight motif to signify dreams. The same asthetic can be used to denote aloneness, or joy. It is the combination of the emotional quality and the mix of elements that creates mood – the placement and use of the elements that create tension.
Differing from other visual elements, formats have information hard wired in them. When we see 16 we think – when we see 35 we think – when we see Hi8 we think -. All of these elements can be exploited. Can they be exploited in the same piece? How can we maintain visual continuity and be constantly shifting formats – constantly commenting on and judging the characters by deciding in what format to shoot them. If one makes a movie in one format – one is making a singular statement – I am shooting on this format, it is commenting on the totality of my subject this way... But when one is constantly shifting – this dialog becomes as important as lighting, clothing, and the words that the actors are saying because it is always changing.
But how is this different from the other visual elements? How is format linked to line, shape, color, depth? We are assuredly not going to change the costumes just because we are shooting in 35 or change the dialog because we are shooting in Vidster are we? At what point are we at the mercy of the format? At what point does it stop being a tool and start being a symbol? Is it always a symbol?
Another question is... the change from one format from shot to shot adds it's own visual intesnity, some more than others. The jump from Vidster to 35 is more intense than the jump from Hi8 to DV. How can we use these formats and codecs as visual signifiers without the visual intensity of the piece being out of control, full blast, 100% all the time? Is that possible? Since the codec lives three lives (one as visual element, one as reproducer of the other visual elements always commenting on them, the last as a signifier in and of itself). How can we break these three aspects apart and make them into one unifying theme???

Morgan Dusatko - writer/director