The Editor - Editing and Tunnel Vision

Just what is tunnel vision?

Wikipedia defines it as “In medical terms, tunnel vision is the loss of peripheral vision with retention of central vision, resulting in a constricted circular tunnel-like field of vision.” And, while it’s great to know that there’s a basis for this expression in the medical field (there are actually several cross-references in the definition which are quite fun to meander down when you’ve got some time to kill), the definition that most applies to those of us in the filmmaking field can be found in the Wiktionary:

(figuratively) To focus one’s attention on one specific item or event, to the exclusion of everything else.; a one-track mind.

A little side track here:

One of the ways that I knew I wanted to be an editor came in college when I shot a film based on the Antonin Artaud unproduced screenplay “18 Seconds”. The film, which follows the thought process of an depressed actor who is about to throw himself under a car and commit suicide, was made in a part of my past that — while great fun — could only have existed at college. So, don’t ask.

In any case,  I had gone through the tortuous process of shooting the 16mm footage with no money and, after getting the film processed, retreated into an editing room on campus where I proceeded to drag out the Moviscop to put together the film.

I went in at about 10am and started going through the footage, hanging selected pieces in a film bin (there’s a picture of one of those to the right — you’d hang the piece of film on hooks from the bar across the top of the bin; and boy am I old!!) next to me. About two hours or so later I went outside for a breath of air and discovered, to my complete surprise, that it was pitch black. Somehow it had turned to night and I hadn’t even noticed.  I had gone for about ten hours straight, without even noticing it.

That’s how I knew I wanted to be an editor.  You lose all sight of the outside world when you’re working on something you love.

In other words, tunnel vision.

I was reminded of this the other day when I got an email from editor/writer/teacher/all-around smart guy Loren S. Miller. Now, in addition to being a filmmaker and editor, Loren invented these great crib sheets/keystroke guides for a host of programs like Final Cut, Soundtrack Pro, Tiger and Leopard, etc. etc. which you can get at his company site Neotron Design. His reviews of products for LAFCPUG have consistently been well thought out and extremely helpful.

Anyway, here’s what Loren wrote me, referring to a posting I did in my personal blog, Hollyn-wood, on iPhones and Personal Television:

 I note from your blogspace you’re co-directing a show on architecture. It’s an avocation of mine!

Believe it or not, for my 476 Advanced Editing lab at Emerson this fall, I’m recommending (among more obvious books) a small book by Matthew Frederick called “101 Things I Learned in Architectural School.” (MIT Press, 2007). It’s essentially a book about design, rendering and presentation.

But there are so many links to filmmaking and editing in there– not just paper planning and assembly of materials, etc– but also representation of space; navigation through space; what spaces get used for; light; where the eye travels.. I’m reminded that Nick Ray, a master of line and space, was a student of Frank Lloyd Wright, and i bet he’s not the only one from that domain. Anyway I’m putting it on my recommended list. Check it out!

Another off-the-track recommendation for the documentary editors among my students, I’m also listing Elements of Style, (Strunk and White)– the original is almost a century old! I learned how to trim interview tracks from EOS, how to boil down meandering blather into salients, trimming out common grammatical traps while maintaining the speaker’s style and message. That paid off handsomely early in my career and I still apply it as second nature.

His observations about the relationships between architecture and film are quite on point. I remember reading the Tracy Kidder book, Soul Of A New Machine, and thinking how much the creation of a new mini-computer was like the creation of a film. The 1981 book, which documented the fitful evolution of a DEC computer from idea to completion, talked about the concerns that its team had — whether it would be as good as it could be, how to make things more elegant, whether they had enough time to do it right, et al.

The thoughts that Loren’s email set off in me, however, weren’t just about architecture and computer design though. They made me realize just how parochial MY reading lists at USC are — they’re about film and nothing more. For years I’ve been telling students that they need to get out in the world and see other things — art exhibits (of both new and old artists), theater, well-designed gardens like the Huntington out here in LA, concerts, etc.

In other words, avoid tunnel vision.

The danger that all of us in the filmmaking field face is that our work is so involving, so all-encompassing, and so damned interesting, that it’s easy to lose sight of how it fits in with the rest of the world. One of our biggest challenges that we face as editors is that we get so focussed on what we’re doing that we don’t see how it might affect an audience that does many other things besides watch our films. After watching the same comic scene for 40 times, it’s easy to lose sense of what they might think is funny about it (or what they won’t laugh at).

We also tend to ossify if we don’t get other input. But what is the other input that we  often go for?  Other films. I worked on a film once where the producer would come into the editing room on Monday morning and ask that we recut the film to be more like whatever top film he had just seen over the weekend. Some of my students describe charcter’s emotions in their own films in terms of other films (”He’s feeling just like The Dude did in that scene where he woke up from the dream.”). As anyone who’s ever tried to xerox copy a photo that’s already been copied knows, copying a copy always leads to fuzzy images. And basing your own characters on someone else’s conception of another character, in this case — the Dude, will lead to fuzzy characterizations of your own.

That’s tunnel vision, when the only input we take in is from xerox copies — other films.

It is your responsibility as a filmmaker and editor to constantly refresh your outlook. It’s why I force myself to get up and walk around the block when I’m editing. It’s why it’s sometimes better to go to a museum than a movie theater. If you want to develop a sense of movement in your own work, read about how long distance runners pace themselves, or look at how architects solve problems of movement through their buildings. Go to a comedy show and see how the stand-up shapes his or her performance. These things won’t be directly relevant to your work, but you’ll be amazed how they come into your subconscious when you’re trying to figure out how to begin a scene, or how to shape that crucial moment when your lead charcter sees that he is wrong.

More input = better work.

Tags: Filmmaker, Film Blog, Oscars, Movie, Film