Wednesday, May 11, 2016

project 3: short film

A Nice Day from Francesca Martinez-Greenberg on Vimeo.

scene analysis


in this scene from 500 Days of Summer, the main characters Summer and Tom speak for the first time since their breakup and summer’s subsequent marriage to another man.

the framing is typical for a conversation scene, each actor being shot “over the shoulder” of the other. however, the scene takes place on a bench; the actors are seated next to each other, facing outwards. the scene could have taken place at a table, with the actors across from each other, but the fact that they are not facing one another helps to emphasize the fact that these characters are no longer together, and no longer share the strong bond they once did. they may be sitting near each other, but they are not connected.

additionally, the colors in the scene are primarily dull and unsaturated. while other scenes in the movie are full of vivid color to emphasize the passion the characters feel for one another, this scene is comparatively gray, reflecting the sense of loss and listlessness that now exists between them.


interestingly, Summer is actually quite pregnant in this scene, which is revealed at its beginning (before they sit on the bench together, and before the clip above starts). however, the entire conversation is shot from the actors’ chests up, so her baby bump is not visible while they are actually talking. it is possible that this decision was made to avoid distracting the viewer, keeping the emphasis on the two characters themselves and the conversation they are having; seeing the baby bump throughout the conversation would keep the viewer thinking about Summer’s pregnancy and husband, but this particular conversation is not about those things, and so that visual reminder is removed from the equation to make clear that the viewer should be thinking about Summer and Tom and their relationship.

Thursday, May 5, 2016

MOMI visit

visiting the Museum of the Moving Image was a fascinating experience. getting to see special effects work, set design, costumes and more up close was pretty unforgettable. the Giant-Zoetrope-Thing was impressive, and seeing the progression of the television set over time was cool too. one part of the tour that really stuck out to me, though, was seeing how set designers often make to-scale 3D models of sets.

i’ve always figured that a lot of thought goes into set design, determining what will allow for certain lighting and camera placement, or where actors will enter and exit. any real space (i.e. not a set in a studio with three walls and no ceiling) provides challenges of its own, of course. how will you fit lights and camera and sound equipment in a small, enclosed space, for instance? what camera angles will even be physically possible to achieve based on the shape of the room? will the shape and material of the walls reflect too much light?

but it didn’t occur to me just how common it is to build set models. it certainly makes sense, and allows everyone involved in production—the director, the writers, the actors, the light and sound and camera operators—to make decisions ahead of time, to understand if and how the space will work to make the vision a reality. it takes a lot of time and work to make these models, but they can very well save time and work in the long run by allowing everyone to see potential problems before they arise on the real set. these days, we have sophisticated 3D modeling computer programs and 3D printers that can replace or supplement the task of building set models by hand. a computer render of a set can make any potential complications more immediately apparent, and is easier to adjust than a physical model.

Thursday, March 24, 2016

soundwalk

there are always birds chirping in the park, even more so now that it's spring. it's mostly sparrows, tweeting their cute little songs, but i can hear a crow on occasion, a distant, ominous caw, but i can't see it. i can never see it. it's slightly windy, and the leaves rustle soothingly. behind me, children chatter and laugh on the playground. if i listen closely, i can hear the squeaking of the ancient swing set's rusted chains.

dogs and their owners trod along the dirt path and pavement alike, soft crunching leaves and twigs on one side, the click of shoes and claws on the other. i know a dog is coming thanks to the telltale jingle-jangle of dog tags. a little yappy thing barks a sharp, high-pitched sound at a scurrying squirrel, which chitters and ruffles the grass in its escape. in the distance, a bigger dog bays, deep and low and energetic—probably tumbling excitedly around the dog run. bikers whiz by, wheels flicking, chains clicking, bells dinging brightly.

a kid practices her rollerblading, wheels cracking pleasantly against the pavement, hair whipping in the wind. a younger kid, maybe her brother, screeches his scooter to a halt and lets it clatter metallically to the ground. his little sneakers stumble clumsily before he gets back on the scooter and kicks off—at least one of his wheels is slightly squeaky. their babysitter calls out in a stern, projecting voice, warning the boy to stay close as another bike fwips by. sparrows chirp and splash and beat their wings in a small puddle, then flap frantically away as a dog pitter-patters by.

Friday, February 5, 2016

artist's statement

art has been a massive part of my life ever since i could close my fist around a crayon. throughout my childhood i was constantly drawing and observing the world around me. i've always sat on the sidelines and watched, and thought, and learned. i admire the beauty of street lamps and store signs, of speckled pigeons and tree-cast shadows, of the droopy-eyed woman with hair like a ginger cloud. i see a world with a potential for incredible beauty. but i also see a world that needs some serious fixing. i’m not yet entirely certain how, but i want to be a part of that fix.

i want to create media in which people can see themselves—their best selves. i want to create media that reflect back a world better than our own. i want television shows about the people so often erased by media. i want shows about black lesbians in wheelchairs and autistic transgender indian girls. i want shows that give voices to the unheard, that don’t limit representation as if it is a zero-sum game where diversity costs some unseen ‘points’ and you can only spend so many. (“why is she disabled and black? isn’t that a bit much?”)

i can’t yet say what my path will be. i can’t say if i would be successful in such endeavors. i’ve never attempted any sort of large project. i always find myself overwhelmed with the details and minutiae. but i want to make a change. i want to provide means of being heard to the silenced. i don’t just want to make myself better; i want to do something that will make other people want to be better, too.