Fourth Day of Shooting

On the 18^th of December 2010, the group commenced what we assumed would be our closing day of shooting. With an almost jaded layer of clouds consuming the days sky we packed up the cameras and headed swiftly off to my house to construct some lingering shots from our storyboard. Although the day seemed relatively structured, ideas and positive energy did veer-off somewhat frenetically at points, resulting in fresh and innovative shots that were conjured up on the spot.

At around 9:30am, the group began to set up what would be the first shot of the day. As Dave had previously stated, we had to adapt and tweak the meeting shots in order to mould the plotline in its new direction. Therefore, we had to re-erect the living room environment into a make-shift patient living room, without breaking the invisible wall of cinema whereby props had moved such as glasses or picture frames etc.  Secondly we had to devise some more lines of dialogue, a process that unfolded as a more taxing task than initially expected.

So with that particular shot executed, we began to consider a succeeding shot that Dave Waters had impulsively conjured up. The idea was that following the previous line of shooting- “close your eyes”, Dave Huxford our actor would comply, and sprawl back in his chair (complemented by some clever editing). We decided that the footage would be more profound in the form of a point-of-view shot, and therefore performed several attempts, until Dave Waters executed the perfect shot when knocking the back of his head on my sofa, grounding the film to a very stripped down and raw portrayal of what would happen if a patient was induced into a catatonic sleep.

At around 12:00 we decided to chronologically follow the order of events in the film, thereby we pondered over how we could execute a shot whereby comatose David Huxford is being dragged up the stairs to his demise by crazed psychiatrist George Austin. We decided on a low angle shot in order to portray George’s dominance over his patient, as well as to visually display from a very raw angle the struggle George has to endure to lug a comatose body up a flight of stairs.

The chief problem we encountered in the process of shooting this particular scene was the surface on which we executed the shot. We discovered after several shots that the momentum needed to tilt the camera was simultaneously moving the tripod; therefore I had to sacrifice all dignity by lowering myself beneath the tripod legs and keeping the camera steady in order for the tilt to stay smooth.

At this point the process of shots had been incredibly successful. Therefore we decided to push our luck and head back to a scene at the films progression. We needed to capture a shot of the psychiatrist walking to the patient’s house; therefore we pulled down the legs off the tripod once again and executed another low-angle shot of George walking down the driveway.

It was at this point that it started to spit with rain, a factor that could have easily ruined the shorts continuity. However, the environmental shots secured previously could have easily turned to rain later on in the day, so we thereby decided to preserve the footage to reflect a real gritty, cold sensation- an idea conveyed in a variety of English independent shorts and feature length films.  

The next shots we decided to capture would almost be the linchpin to our short psychological/thriller- the framed suicide letter shots. The most taxing part once again was devising a short, dynamic yet meaningful line that summarised the film without sounding cliché. The dubbed suicide letter would have its origins shot at my bedroom table, lit by a solitary lamp as George forges the patient’s handwriting. This stirred up a variety of problems, the first being that the copy itself was not always central when he wrote it, and secondly, when being scrutinised by the camera and group, the pressure at times veered him into slipping, or mistaking specific word orderings etc.

Its second appearance would appear pinned to the bathroom door and George swiftly leaves the room, implying that the patient has met his demise.  This would be our last shot of the day, whereby George swings open the door, shuts it, and departs with the words pinned to the door- “life is precious, but not for me”.  Despite the fact this should appeared to be quite taxing with many trials and tribulations that could ruin it, the shot was executed smoothly in roughly 3 takes. The door itself didn’t bounce back once, and George managed to open the door just enough without revealing too much.

So completely spurred on with confidence and promise, the group headed back to school, handed the tapes over to Dave, with the upmost self-reliance that he would be able to edit the short by the New Year. Using Facebook as a means of communication Dave unfortunately had to inform us that there was simply not enough footage, unless we were willing to compromise with some less than admired shots. Therefore, within the last three days we are allowed to spend together, we plan on finishing the blogs over Christmas, filming roughly fifty seconds of footage, editing said footage in the evening, thus completely the A2 Media Coursework.