First, read SHOT [filmplus.org] & SHOT [film.vtheatre.net] pages.
Analysis, using photobucket.com/anatolant images collections. [composition issues]
-- Online exerc. -- a new page in filmmaking [ vtheatre.net/fm ]?
"Cut and paste"
"2 shots" and "3 shots"
handouts -- film.vttheatre.net/doc
GREAT SHOTS collection: (list) where?
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Enter the name of a movie, TV show, or person and then click "Go" to get more information about it/them from imdb.com.
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KEY TERMS: Glossary
Method for Directors?
ShowCases: 3 Sisters, Mikado, 12th Night, Hamlet, The Importance of Being Earnest, Dangerous Liaisons, Don Juan
prof. Anatoly Antohin Theatre UAF AK 99775 USA
* NEWS: * Digital Filmmaking 101: An Essential Guide to Producing Low Budget Movies (Paperback) 0941188337 *
SummaryShot Breakdown - 180-Rule - Lenses - Angles - Filters - Style - Tracking - Foreground - Transitions - Pacing - Preparing the Script - Budgets & Schedules - Casting - Location Scouting - Working With Departments - Visualization Skills - Set Local Color & Atmosphere - Story Manipulation
Subject Size (shots)
QuestionsRe-establishing shots (137)
Insert to bridge two master shots
"Motivation" of the inserts
Parallel editing of master shots (149); screen event around the lines of interest).
Pauses (dramatic stresses).
Time compression (156)
Notes"Master Shot" -- the long take obtained from a sungle camera position (in class -- for static scenes): to cover the first half of the dialogue with two master shots (MS), and the final part with another pair both close shots (135).
2005: Tarkovsky Pages:
Shorts from cinequestonline * *
What is the location setting?
shots video *
HOMEWORK (break into shots) -- Chekhov's Tobacco (bottom)
After you are done with the final draft of the stript, you do the storyboarding. The next stage is the shot-by-shot book: in your three-ring-file you must have a seperate page for each shot.Exer. -- "Wild Strawberries" (dreams: script segment on images page):
Use the forms!
Your final draft must be made according to your shots breakdown.
The log lists must in your master-file!
Keep your footage as a master-tape!
Read all theory pages before doing the shot-by-shot file.
More in Checklist Page
Describe the shot (floor plan -- how it was shot, including lighting):
[ the big three ]
[ full "shot page" ]
[ godfather -- the hospital sequence, select any 10-shots segments for class ]
EXT DUSK: OLIVE OIL CO. (WINTER 1945) DON CORLEONE by the fruit stand; he is about to move to the car, when TWO MEN step from the corner. Suddenly, the DON drops the bag of fruit and darts with startling quickness toward the parked car. DON CORLEONE Fredo, Fredo! The paper bag has hit the ground, and the fruit begins rolling along the sidewalk, as we HEAR gunshots. Five bullets catch the DON in the back; he arches in pain, and continues toward the car. The PROPRIETOR of the fruit stand rushes for cover, knocking over an entire case of fruit. The TWO GUNMEN move in quickly, anxious to finish him off. Their feet careful to avoid the rolling fruit. There are more GUNSHOTS. FREDDIE is hysterical; he tries to get out of the car; having difficulty opening the door. He rushes out, a gun trembling in his hand; his mouth open. He actually drops the gun. The gun falls amid the rolling fruit. The GUNMEN are panicked. They fire once more at the downed DON CORLEONE. His leg and arm twitch where they are hit; and pools of blood are beginning to form. The GUNMEN are obviously in a state of panic and confusion; they disappear around the corner as quickly as they came. The PEOPLE about the avenue have all but disappeared: rather, we catch glimpses of them, poking their heads safely from around corners, inside doorways and arches, and from windows. But the street itself is now empty. FREDDIE is in shock; he looks at his FATHER; now great puddles of blood have formed, and the DON is lifeless and face down in them. FREDDIE falls back on to the curb and sits there, saying something we cannot understand. He begins to weep profusely. [ "Hospital" segment ] EXT NITE: DON'S HOSPITAL (WINTER 1945) A taxi pulls up in front of a hospital, marked clearly with a neon sign "HOSPITAL--EMERGENCY." MICHAEL steps out, pays the fare...and then stops dead in his tracks. MICHAEL looks. He sees the hospital in the night; but it is deserted. He is the only one on the street. There are gay, twinkling Christmas decorations all over the building. He walks, slowly at first, and then ever so quickly, up the steps. He hesitates, looks around. This area is empty. He checks the address on a scrap of paper. It is correct. He tries the door, it is empty. He walks in. INT NITE: HOSPITAL LOBBY (WINTER 1945) MICHAEL stands in the center of an absolutely empty hospital lobby. He looks to the right; there is a long, empty corridor. To the left: the same. HIGH FULL ANGLE, as MICHAEL walks through the desolated building lit by eerie green neon lighting. All we hear are his sole footsteps. He walks up to a desk marked "INFORMATION". No one is there. He moves quickly to a door marked "OFFICE"; swings into it; no one is there. He looks onto the desk: There is half a sandwich, and a half-filled bottle of coke. MICHAEL Hello? Hello? Now he knows something is happening, he moves quickly, alertly. MICHAEL walking down the hospital corridors; all alone. The floors have just been mopped. They are still wet. INT NITE: HOSPITAL STAIRS Now he turns onto a staircase; ever quickening; up several flights. INT NITE: 4TH FLOOR CORRIDOR He steps out onto the fourth floor. He looks. There are merely empty corridors. He takes out his scrap of paper; checks it. "Room 4A." Now he hurries, trying to follow the code of hospital rooms; following the right arrows, quicker and quicker they flash by him. Now he stops, looks up "4A-- Corleone". There is a special card table set up there with some magazines...and some smoking cigarettes still in the ashtray--but no detectives, no police, no bodyguards. INT NITE: DON'S ROOM 4A Slowly he pushes the door open, almost afraid at what he will find. He looks. Lit by the moonlight through the window, he can see a FIGURE in the hospital bed alone in the room, and under a transparent oxygen tent. All that can be heard is the steady though strained breathing. Slowly MICHAEL walks up to it, and is relieved to see his FATHER, securely asleep. Tubes hang from a steel gallows beside the bed, and run to his nose and mouth. VOICE (O.S.) What are you doing here? This startles MICHAEL; who almost jumps around. It is a NURSE lit from the light behind her in the hallway. NURSE You're not supposed to be here now. MICHAEL calms himself, and moves to her. MICHAEL I'm Michael Corleone--this is my father. What happened to the detectives who were guarding him? NURSE Oh your father just had too many visitors. It interfered with the hospital service. The police came and made them all leave just ten minutes ago. (comfortingly) But don't worry. I look in on him. MICHAEL You just stand here one minute... Quickly he moves to the telephone, dials a number. MICHAEL Sonny...Sonny--Jesus Christ, I'm down at the hospital. I came down late. There's no one here. None of Tessio's people--no detectives, no one. The old man is completely unprotected. SONNY (O.S.) All right, get him in a different room; lock the door from the inside. I'll have some men there inside of fifteen minutes. Sit tight, and don't panic. MICHAEL (furiously, but kept inside) I won't panic. He hangs up; returns to the NURSE... NURSE You cannot stay here...I'm sorry. MICHAEL (coldly) You and I are going to move my father right now...to another room on another floor...Can you disconnect those tubes so we can wheel the bed out? NURSE Absolutely not! We have to get permission from the Doctor. MICHAEL You've read about my father in the papers. You've seen that no one's here to guard him. Now I've just gotten word that men are coming to this hospital to kill him. Believe me and help me. NURSE (frightened) We don't have to disconnect them, we can wheel the stand with the bed. She does so...and they perform the very difficult task of moving the bed and the apparatus, out of the room. INT NITE: 4TH FLOOR HOSPITAL (WINTER 1945) They roll the bed, the stand, and all the tubes silently down the corridor. We hear FOOTSTEPS coming up the stairs. MICHAEL hears them, stops. MICHAEL Hurry, into there. They push it into the first available room. MICHAEL peeks out from the door. The footsteps are louder; then they emerge. It is ENZO, NAZORINE's helper, carrying a bouquet of flowers. MICHAEL (stepping out) Who is it? ENZO Michael...do you remember me, Enzo, the baker's helper to Nazorine, now his son-in-law. MICHAEL Enzo, get out of here. There's going to be trouble. A look of fear sweeps through ENZO's face. ENZO If there...will be trouble...I stay with you, to help. I owe it to the Godfather. MICHAEL thinks, realizes he needs all the help he can get. MICHAEL Go outside; stand in front...I'll be out in a minute. INT NITE: DON'S SECOND HOSPITAL ROOM (WINTER 1945) They part. MICHAEL moves into the hospital room where they put his FATHER. NURSE (frightened) He's awake. MICHAEL looks at the OLD MAN, his eyes are open, though he cannot speak. MICHAEL touches his face tenderly. MICHAEL Pop...Pop, it's me Michael. Shhhh, don't try to speak. There are men who are coming to try to kill you. But I'm with you...I'm with you now... The OLD MAN tries to speak...but cannot. MICHAEL tenderly puts his finger to his FATHER's lips. EXT NITE: DON'S HOSPITAL STREET (WINTER 1945) Outside the hospital is empty save for a nervous ENZO, pacing back and forth brandishly the flowers as his only weapon. MICHAEL exits the hospital and moves to him. They both stand under a lamppost in the cold December night. They are both frightened; MICHAEL gives ENZO a cigarette, lights it. ENZO's hands are trembling, MICHAEL's are not. MICHAEL Get rid of those and look like you've got a gun in your pocket. The windows of the hospital twinkle with Christmas decorations. MICHAEL Listen... We HEAR the sound of a single automobile coming. MICHAEL and ENZO look with fear in their eyes. Then MICHAEL takes the bouquet of flowers and stuffs them under his jacket. They stand, hands in their pockets. A long low black car turns the corner and cruises by them. MICHAEL's and ENZO's faces are tough, impassive. The car seems as though it will stop; and then quickly accelerates. MICHAEL and ENZO are relieved. MICHAEL looks down; the BAKER's hands are shaking. He looks at his own, and they are not. Another moment goes by and we can hear the distant sound of police sirens. They are clearly coming toward the hospital, getting louder and louder. MICHAEL heaves a sigh of relief. In a second, a patrol car makes a screaming turn in front of the hospital; then two more squad cars follow with uniformed POLICE and DETECTIVES. He smiles his relief and starts toward them. TWO huge, burly POLICEMEN suddenly grab his arms while ANOTHER frisks him. A massive POLICE CAPTAIN, spattered with gold braid and scrambled eggs on his hat, with beefy red face and white hair seems furious. This is McCLUSKEY. MCCLUSKEY I thought I got all you guinea hoods locked up. Who the hell are you and what are you doing here? ANOTHER COP standing nearby: COP He's clean, Captain. MICHAEL studies McCLUSKEY closely. MICHAEL (quietly) What happened to the detectives who were supposed to be guarding my father? MCCLUSKEY (furious) You punk-hood. Who the hell are you to tell me my business. I pulled them off. I don't care how many Dago gangsters kill each other. I wouldn't lift a finger to keep your old man from getting knocked off. Now get the hell out of here; get off this street you punk, and stay away from this hospital. MICHAEL stands quiet. MICHAEL I'll stay until you put guards around my father's room. MCCLUSKEY Phil, lock this punk up. A DETECTIVE The Kid's clean, Captain...He's a war hero, and he's never been mixed up in the rackets... MCCLUSKEY (furious) Goddam it, I said lock him up. Put the cuffs on him. MICHAEL (deliberately, right to McCLUSKEY's face, as he's being handcuffed) How much is the Turk paying you to set my father up, Captain? Without any warning, McCLUSKEY leans back and hits MICHAEL squarely on the jaw with all his weight and strength. MICHAEL groans, and lifts his hand to his jaw. He looks at McCLUSKEY; we are his VIEW and everything goes spinning, and he falls to the ground, just as we see HAGEN and CLEMENZA'S MEN arrive. ---------------------------------------FADE OUT---------
Once Upon a Time ...
A balcony at night.
A man is sharpening a razor by the balcony. The man looks at the sky through the window-panes and sees ...
A light cloud moving toward the full moon.
Then a young woman's head, her eyes wide open. A razor blade moves toward one of the eyes.
The light cloud passes now across the moon.
The razor blade cuts through the eye of the young woman, slicing it.
End of Prologue.©2004 filmplus.org *
(c)2004-2006 Get Site Info
On the Harmful Effects of Tobacco (1886, 1902) (On the Harm of Tobacco)
NYUKHIN: (He enters the stage with great dignity, wearing long side whiskers and worn-out flock coat. He bows majestically to his audience, adjusts his waistcoat, and speaks.)Chekhov, Farces -- Theatre UAF 2005Ladies and ... so to speak... gentlemen. It was suggested to my wife that I give a public ledture here for charity. Well, if I must, I must. It's all the same to me. I am not a professor and I've never finish the university. And yet, nevertheless, over the past thirty years I have been ruining my health by constant, unceasing examination of matters of strictly scientific nature. I am a man of intellectual curiosity, and, image, at times I write essays on scientific matters -- well, not exactly scientific, but, if you will pardon me, approximately scientific. Just another day I finished a long article entitled: "On the Harmfulness of Certain Insects." My daughters liked it immensely, especially the part about bedbugs. But I just read it over and tore it up. What difference does it make whether such things are written? You still have to have naphtha. We have bedbugs, even in our grand piano... For the subject of my lecture today I have taken, so to speak, the harm done mankind by the use of tobacco. I myself smoke, but my wife told me to lecture on the harmfulness of tobacco, and so what's to be done? Tobacco it is. It's all the same to me; but, ladies and... so to speak gentleman... I urge you to take my lecture with all due seriousness, or something awful may happen. If any of you are afraid of a dry, scientific lecture, cannot stomach that sort of thing, you needdn't listen. You may leave.* "I have spoken and relieved my soul." (Latin)
(He again adjusts his waistcoat.)Are there any doctors present? If so, I insist that you listen very carefully, for my lecture will contain much useful information, since tobacco, besides being harmful, contains certain medical properties. For example, if you take a fly and put him in a snuff box, he will die, probably from nervous exhaustion. Tobacco, strictly speaking, is a plant... Yes, I know, when I lecture I blink my right eye. Take no notice. It's simple nervousness. I am a very nervous man, generally speaking. I started blinking years ago, in 1889, to be precise, on September the thirteenth, the very day my wife gave birth to our, so to speak, fourth daughter, Varvara. All my daughters were born on the thirteeth. But... (He looks at his watch.) time at our disposal is strictly limited. I see I have digressed from the subject.
I must tell you, by the way, that my wife runs a boarding school. Well, not exactly a boarding school, but something in the nature of one. Just between us, my wife likes to complain about hard times, but she has put away a little nest egg... some forty or fifty thousand rubles. As for me, I haven't a kopek to my name, not a penny... and, well, what's the use of dwelling on that? At the school, it is my lot to look after the housekeepng. I buy supplies, keep an eye on the servants, keep the books, stitch together the exercise books, exterminate bedbugs, take my wife's little dog for walks, catch mice. Last night, it fell to me to give the cook flour and butter for today's breakfast. Well, to make a long story short, today, when the pancakes were ready, my wife came to the kitchen and said that three students would not be eating pancakes, as they had swollen glands. So it seems we had a few too many pancakes. What to do with them? First my wife ordered them stored away, but then she thought awhile, and she said, "You eat those pancakes, you scarecrow." When she's out of humor, that's what she calls me: "scarecrow," or "viper," or "devil." What sort of devil am I? She's always out of humor. I didn't eat those pancakes; I wolfed them down. I am always hungry. Why yesterday, she gave me no dinner. She says, "What's the use feeding you, you scarecrow..." However... (He looks at his warch.) I have strayed from my subject. Let us continue. But some of you, I'm sure, would rather hear a romance, or a symphony, some aria...
"We shall not shrink In the heart of battle:
Forward, be strong."
I forgot that comes from... Oh, by the way, I should tell you that at my wife's school, apart from looking after the housekeeping, my duties include teaching mathematics, physics, chemistry, georgraphy, history, solfeggio, literature, and so forth. For dancing, singing, and drawing, my wife charges extra, although the singing and dancing master is yours truly. Our school is located at Dog Alley, number 13. I suppose that's why my life has been so unlucky, living in house number thirteen. All my daughters were born on the thirteenth, I think I told you, and our house has thirteen windows, and, in short, what's the use? Appointments with my wife may be made for any hour, and the school's propectus may be had for thirty kopeks from the porter.
(He takes a few copies out of his pocket.)
Ah, here you see, I've brought a few with me. Thirty kopecs a copy. Would anyone care for one?
No one? Well, make it twenty kopecs. (Another pause.) What a shame! Yes, house number thirteen. I am a failure. I've grown old and stupid. Here I am, lecturing, and to all appearances enjoying myself, but I tell you I have such an urge to scream at the top of my lungs, to run away to the ends of the earth... There is no one to talk to. I want to weep. What about your daughters, you say, eh? Well, what about them? I try to talk to them, and they only laugh. My wife has seven daughters. Seven. No. Sorry, it's only six. Now, wait, it is seven. Anna, the eldest, is twenty-seven, the youngest is seventeen. Ladies and gentleman:
(He looks around surreptitiously.)
I am miserable: I have become a fool, a nonentity. But then, all in all, you see before you the happiest of fathers. Why shouldn't I be, and who am I to say that I am not? Oh, if you only knew: I have lived with my wife for thirty-three years, and, I can say they are the best years of my life... well, not the best, but aspproximately the best. They have passed, as it were, in a thrice, and, well, to hell with them.
(Again, he looks around surreptitiously.)
I don't think my wife has arrived yet. She is not here. So, I can say what I like. I am afraid... I am terribly afraid when she looks at me. Well, I was talking about our duaghters. They don't get married, probably because they're so shy, and also because men can never get near them. My wife doesn't give parties. She never invites anyone to dinner. She's a stingy, shrewish, ill-tempered old biddy, and that's why no one comes to see us, but... I can tell you confidentially...
(He comes down to the edge of his platform.)
on holidays, my daughters can be seen at the home of their aunt, Natalia, the one who has rheumatism and always wears a yellow dress covered with black spots that look like cockroaches. There you can eat. And if my wife happens not to be looking, then you'll see me...
(He makes a drinking gesture.)
Oh, you'll see I can get tipsy on just one glass. Then I feel so happy and at the same time so sad, it's unimaginable. I think of my yough, and then somehow I long to run away, to clear out. Oh, if you only knew how I long to do it! To run away, to be free of everything, to run without ever looking back... Where? Anywhere, so long as it is away from that vile, mean, cheap life that has made me into a fool, a miserable idiot; to run away from that stupid, petty, hot headed, spiteful, nasty old miser, my wife, who has given me thirty-three years of torment; to run away from the music, the kitchen, my wife's bookkeeping ledgers, all those mundane, trivial affairs... To run away and then stop somewhere far, far away on a hill, and stand there like a tree, a pole, a scarecrow, under the great sky and the still, bright moon, and to forget, simply forget... Oh, how I long to forget! How I long to tear off this flock coat, this coat that I wore thirty-three years ago at my wedding, and that I still wear for lectures for charity!
(He tears off his coat.)
Take that: And that:
(Stamping on the coat.)
I am a poor, shabby, tattered wretch, like the back of this waistcoat. (He turns his back showing his waistcoat.) I ask for nothing. I am better than that. I was young once; I went to the university, I had dreams, I thought of myself as a man, but now... now, I want nothing. Nothing but peace... peace.
(He looks off stage. Quickly he pick up his flock coat and puts it on.)
She is here. My wife is there in the wings waiting for me. (He looks at his watch.) I see our time is up. If she asks you, please, I beg you, tell her that her scarecrow husband, I mean, the lecturer, me, behaved with dignity. Oh, she is looking at me.
(He resumes his dignity and raises his voice.)
Given that tobacco contains a trrible poison, which I have had the pleasure of describing to you, smoking should at all costs be avoided, and permit me to add my hopes that these observations on the harmfulness of tabacco will have been of some profit to you. And so I conclude. Dixi et animan levavi!*
(He bows majestically, and exits with grand dignity.)
The End[ analysis in class, from THR121 ]
Setting Up Your Shots: Great Camera Moves Every Filmmaker Should Know 0941188736 [ recommended? ]
2007 An online course supplement * Film-North * Anatoly Antohin. * eCitations *
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