i consistently get the best ideas from my dreams its so aweome. my dreams have always been very very vivid and it really feels like its my brain processing all my knowlege in a way i cant when im awake. my whole life ive woken up from dreams with really strong ideas for art or stories or something. i want to be a director someday and ive gotten a lot of ideas for movies from my dreams. I have 2 main ideas based off of dreams at the moment. it really feels like my dreams are rough drafts of a film waiting for me to finish them.
i have normal dreams, but ive also always had dreams in video game format, and in recent years genuine film format. i have some dreams that are movies, but some of them that are formatted like im making a film and reshooting until i refine the idea.
so the one i just had, it had really amazing overhead and mid shots that showed off the set/setting well, and showed me specific props and dressing needed. it had really good tracking shots at specific moments, and included the type of editing/transition style between shots. anyway i wanna try to refine the story and write a screenplay for it. by fucking god i will make movies someday i just dont know when. i need more (any) industry experience first and seeing how movies are made. but i want to. so bad.
at the moment i have 2 ideas for films from dreams, and an idea for a miniseries i developed awake a couple years ago. my dreams are awesome tho cause they lay out the shots and sets for me. I have very detailed sketches working out the main house plan and style from my first dream film. :)
6 notes
·
View notes
behind the scenes shots ft. akd as the adjudicator, from this article about the cinematography
“In Hollywood, action filmmaking was kind of looked down upon until The Matrix, and then people realized that action could also be part of the story,” [director] Stahelski notes. “I come from a place of loving dance and theater and fine art — action can be all of those things — and one of my favorite painters is Caravaggio.” When he was looking for a cinematographer for John Wick: Chapter 2, Stahelski recalls, “I asked myself, ‘Who paints with light?’ The answer is Dan Laustsen.”
In strictly cinematographic terms, Parabellum functions less like an action movie and more like a Hollywood studio musical. The film’s first battle is a close-quarters knife fight in an antique weapons shop, where the camera cuts from wide shot to wide shot, sustaining the action in long takes so that the audience can better appreciate the physical prowess of Reeves’ performance — an elaborate fighting style that combines Japanese judo and jujitsu, Brazilian jujitsu, Russian sambo, Filipino kali, and Muay Thai, more for the benefit of show than for self-defense.
“Ninety-nine percent of high-level stunt work is dance — not pirouettes, but how you move your body,” asserts Stahelski, who continues to train stuntpeople with Leitch through their company 87eleven. “I love the aesthetic of motion. A lot of our shots [in Parabellum] are lifted straight from Singin’ in the Rain and West Side Story. We’re mixing Buster Keaton and Charlie Chaplin with Hong Kong cinema from John Woo, Jackie Chan and the Shaw Brothers.”
“We wanted to go wider than Hollywood action films normally do and really show off the choreography,” Laustsen agrees. “When the camera, lighting and actors are all moving together, it really is a dance.”
“After we made Chapter 2,” Laustsen notes, “we discussed how we could make 3 even more visually powerful. The main setting was still New York, but we wanted to bring out the city even more forcefully. We decided to shoot all at night, with rain as much as possible. Rain is fantastic because it gives a third dimension to the picture, but it is a challenge to do it, especially in a city like New York.”
The Master Anamorphics’ low-distortion design also prevents dramatic, streaking lens flares, and so the technicians at Arri Rental in Secaucus, N.J., fashioned a flare filter — comprising three strands of nylon fishing line stretched across an empty filter frame — for the XT’s and Mini’s Internal Filter Modules. When a front-of-lens filter produces a flare, Laustsen observes, it “just looks like the light is catching on a piece of flat glass in front of the lens. It’s more beautiful when the flare comes from the lens itself” — and that’s the effect that was replicated with the behind-the-lens nylon lines. “With the filters inside the camera,” the cinematographer adds, “it was also easier for first assistant Craig Pressgrove to do the lens changes.”
The exterior of the Continental was shot in lower Manhattan, but the hotel’s interiors were filmed in downtown Brooklyn, in the former Williamsburgh Savings Bank tower — which now serves as an event space —whose glass-and-wrought-iron front doors open to a 128'-long vaulted banking hall with limestone facing, marble floors, carved teller stations, and a 63'-high ceiling supported by Romanesque columns. For its role as the Continental’s lobby, the hall was furnished by Kavanaugh with two round settees crowned with statues of the Roman war gods Bellona and Mars, a fully-stocked bar, and a lounge on the mezzanine.
Parabellum’s stages were located at Gold Coast Studios in Long Island, N.Y. The first of the production’s two notable stage-bound sets is the Continental’s terrace, for which the Rockefeller Center rooftop garden was used in Chapter 2. The schedule didn’t allow for much time to shoot Parabellum’s scene, which takes place at sunrise. “You cannot make the sun rise [for] a movie,” Laustsen notes wryly. “It’s one or two shots, and then you have daylight, and then you’re fighting to control the light.”
So, for more control, the scene was moved onstage, where the set was surrounded with a sectional 45'x350' bluescreen lit with SkyPanel S120s; a 120' black velour curtain was used to control blue spill coming from off-camera. Early-morning ambience was provided by 176 overhead SkyPanel S60s, and the light of the rising sun was simulated by a 20K tungsten Fresnel and a 24K Dino light with medium bulbs, both gelled with 1⁄2 CTS.
The other key set built at Gold Coast was the “manager’s office,” a labyrinthine two-story glass-and-steel structure meant to represent the top floors of the Continental, with a 270-degree view of the adjacent skyscrapers. It’s in this space that Wick and Zero ultimately face off mano a mano. “The concept was to create a space where everything is exposed, a place where there are no secrets,” Kavanaugh explains.
To help him integrate the lighting into the design of the set itself, Laustsen worked with a virtual-reality computer model based on Kavanaugh’s design. “Chad, Kevin and I had discussions about color — cool lights inside, warm light outside,” says the cinematographer, who wanted what he describes as an “organic” light element for both spaces. The art department therefore added a 35'x14' LED wall to the set’s second floor and a 28'x12' LED billboard to the rooftop; the latter was positioned between the glass structure and a 40'x440' Rosco SoftDrop that was backlit by 150 SkyPanel S60s through Magic Cloth sourced from The Rag Place.
Almeida and his rigging crew installed more than a mile of LiteGear Chroma-Correct RGB-Daylite LED LiteRibbon into the glass and steel set, using aluminum profile and plastic diffusers provided by Kavanaugh’s art department. Cues were orchestrated from an ETC Ion Xe console operated by Kent Arneson; Laustsen took advantage of that control to increase the intensity of the light over time — until the very end of the fight, when the two combatants are photographed primarily in silhouette against the LED walls.
Wick literally fights his way through the set — alternately smashing his opponents and being smashed through glass pedestals, walls and floors — until he comes face to face with his nemesis. “We filmed this sequence with a [Chapman/Leonard Hustler IV] dolly and a Libra head, a Steadicam, and a couple of crane shots [with a MovieBird 45 and Aerocrane jib],” Laustsen details. “We didn’t want to go handheld because of all the straight lines. It would be a much more powerful look for the film if the frame was always parallel to the set.”
“When we did bring in lights for the close-ups, we used Arri SkyPanel S60s and Astera AX1 LED tubes that we could attach virtually anywhere using magnets and clips,” Almeida adds. “The Astera tubes worked out great because they’re easy to hide, and if you saw a reflection, it just looked like the lighting that was built-in already.”
4 notes
·
View notes
Well, today [1998] in, particularly in television animation I suppose. Nearly all of us think "boy, you guys really have it easy". Because, each one of the directors, there was usually three, sometimes four directors, would direct ten pictures a year. Which is an hour. They were six minutes long and it was an hour long. So, that meant every five weeks, we'd put new one into work. We'd have five weeks on a story, five weeks on direction, five weeks on animation with four or five animators, and so on, right down to the ink-and-paint division, and so there would be three units doing the creative work and in the center of the building was the ink-and-paint division, and they worked for everybody. So, that meant that they were turning out a picture every two weeks.
Here's the terrible, and looking back at it, at least from anybody else from Warners', in motion picture and animation, I know Martin Scorsese and I've talked to Steven Spielberg and George Lucas, were all astonished that you could do a picture: lay it out and time to exactly six minutes and no editing, we had no editing to our pictures. You had to finish the story, without showing it to anybody, really [...] you time out the entire picture after the storyboard, the storyboards were not complete, they were just rough ideas and would be a bunch of gags. The director's job was to put them together into some kind of logic, solid logic, really, and to time the entire picture music bar sheets or on an exposure sheets [...] that would be six feet (four seconds). And, on that, you'd have Bugs Bunny walking, say 12 frames, if he was strolling, it be 12 frames. If he was in a hurry it be 6 frames for each step and so on, we learned to time it.
Chuck Jones on producing an animated short during the 1940s to 1960s
13 notes
·
View notes