Search The Internet Movie Database Enter the name of a movie, TV show, or person and then
click "Go" to get more information about it/them from
imdb.com.
- Even if you do not know how to draw, get use to it. Too many thing can't be explained in words. How the shot looks like, the floor plan, the transitions from one shot to another. Use the "comics" style. Take another (film's POV) look at the comics.
THR334Film & MoviesTextbook Spring 2003: How to Read a FilmSubscribe to Open Class @ 200x AestheticsFilm & Video Directing (Spring 2004): textbook Grammar of the Film Language by Daniel Arijon
Storyboards are illustrations displayed in sequence for the purpose of previsualizing an animated or live-action film. [ wikipedia ]
In creating a motion picture with any degree of fidelity to a script, a storyboard provides a visual layout of events as they are to be seen through the camera lens. In the storyboarding process, most technical details involved in crafting a film can be efficiently described either in picture, or in corollary notation.
A storyboard in live-action film is essentially a large comic of the film or some section of the film produced beforehand to help the directors and cinematographers visualize the scenes and find potential problems before they occur. Often story boards include arrows or instructions that indicate camera movement.
Again, do you know or not how to draw, it doesn't matter -- you have to have it.
You have to do many drafts of it, your film-on-paper.
Without storyboarding you can't get to the director's script!
Before shooting you must have the shot-by-shot book (bible)!
Do it with your cameraman!
"Single shot" forms (where?)
Tips
If your stuck or have holes in your story, try to draw what you see! (You do not see anything, something wrong with the idea-concept).
Each main image must reappear in film at list three times (exposition, climax, resolution -- how different are they?). This is the only way to make us understand the symbolic meaning of your images.
"Main theme" image, "hero image" -- think about the details as images!
Use the right mouse and print the form you need! Save the master to make more copies!
EXT. CEMETERY OF ST. MARX - LATE AFTERNOON - 1790'S
The rain has eased off. A LOCAL PRIEST with two boy acolytes
is standing beside an open communal grave. Mozart's body is
lifted out of the cheap pine box in a sack.
We see that the grave contains twenty other such sacks. The
gravedigger throws the one containing Mozart amongst the
others. An assistant pours quicklime over the whole pile of
them. The acolytes swing their censers.
LOCAL PRIEST
The Lord giveth. The Lord taketh
away. Blessed be the name of the
Lord.
CUT BACK TO:
INT. OLD SALIERI'S HOSPITAL ROOM - MORNING - 1823
OLD SALIERI
Why did He do it? Why didn't He kill
me? I had no value. What was the
use, keeping me alive for thirty-two
years of torture? Thirty-two years
of honours and awards.
He tears off the Civilian Medal and Chain with which the
Emperor invested him and has been wearing the whole time and
throws it across the room.
OLD SALIERI
Being bowed to and saluted, called
'distinguished - distinguished
Salieri' - by men incapable of
distinguishing! Thirty-two years of
meaningless fame to end up alone in
my room, watching myself become
extinct. My music growing fainter,
all the time fainter, until no one
plays it at all. And his growing
louder, filling the world with wonder.
And everyone who loves my sacred art
crying, Mozart! Bless you, Mozart.
The door opens. An attendant comes in, cheerful and hearty.
ATTENDANT
Good morning, Professor! Time for
the water closet. And then we've got
your favourite breakfast for you -
sugar-rolls.
(to Vogler)
He loves those. Fresh sugar-rolls.
Salieri ignores him and stares only at the priest, who stares
back.
OLD SALIERI
Goodbye, Father. I'll speak for you.
I speak for all mediocrities in the
world. I am their champion. I am
their patron saint. On their behalf
I deny Him, your God of no mercy.
Your God who tortures men with
longings they can never fulfill. He
may forgive me: I shall never forgive
Him.
He signs to the attendant, who wheels him in his chair out
of the room. The priest stares after him.
INT. CORRIDOR OF THE HOSPITAL - MORNING
The corridor is filled with patients in white linen smocks,
all taking their morning exercise walk in the care of nurses
and nuns. They form a long, wretched, strange procession -
some of them are clearly very disturbed. As Old Salieri is
pushed through them in his wheelchair, he lifts his hands to
them in benediction.
OLD SALIERI
Mediocrities everywhere, now and to
come: I absolve you all! Amen! Amen!
Amen!
Finally, he turns full-face to the camera and blesses us the
audience, making the Sign of the Cross. Underneath we hear,
stealing in and growing louder, the tremendous Masonic Funeral
Music of Mozart.
On the last four chords, we
FADE OUT:
THE END
[ compare with the play ]
samples:
The basic: pix and short description of each shot.
[ use the stills for analysis ]
[ see the textbook for more ]
Also, I use the fine art masterpieces for visual composition -- direct.vtheatre.net; for example:
[ do the floor plan for this "shot" ]
Or even the compositions from my stage productions! [Dangerous Liaisons]
I didn't get it yet. Anatoly 1.15.04 -- here are some samples of "traditional" storyboarding:
Simple Storyboard plates
Just a few samples:
[ more on storyboarding techniques in class ]
"Comics" Style Storyboard Plates
[ photo-film method ]
Wide screen Storyboard
Doesn't matter how you do it -- make it visible (use the back of the page for more directions/instructions)!
[ reconstruction of the classic shots through storyboarding ]
Summary
Storyboard should help you to visualize your script. The final draft and shot-by-shot "shooting script" we will do at the end (the end of Pre-Production period).
Think about it: one page of the script = one minute on the screen. 100 pages = 1 hour 40 min. Budget of $10.000.000 means that one munite/page costs $100.000! You don't want to mess with such money, right? Shoot on paper first!
Questions
What do I write next to the shot?
Text, if any; sound, everything the other need to understand your vision. Size, duration, angle...
As much is needed to understand how to shoot it.
Notes
Use two or more forms, if need. This is "on paper shooting"! As you know, you can break one into several "fames" Like, "Shot 1a," "1b" and etc.
Sample of the storyboard and the Screen Continuety (click to go to the Motion Page)
YOU'VE GOT MAIL, Nora Ephron & Delia Ephron
based on:
The Shop Around the Corner
By Nikolaus Laszlo
2nd final white revised February 2, 1998
FADE IN ON:
CYBERSPACE
We have a sense of cyberspace-travel as we hurtle through a
sky that's just beginning to get light. There are a few
stars but they fade and the sky turns a milky blue and a big
computer sun starts to rise.
We continue hurtling through space and see that we're heading
over a computer version of the New York City skyline. We
move over Central Park. It's fall and the leaves are
glorious reds and yellows.
We reach the West Side of Manhattan and move swiftly down
Broadway with its stores and gyms and movies theatres and
turn onto a street in the West 80s.
Hold in front of a New York brownstone.
At the bottom of the screen a small rectangle appears and the
words:
ADDING ART
As the rectangle starts to fill with color, we see a percentage
increase from 0% to 100%. When it hits 100% the image pops and
we are in real life.
EXT. NEW YORK BROWNSTONE - DAY
Early morning in New York. A couple of runners pass on their
way to Riverside Drive Park.
We go through the brownstone window into:
INT. KATHLEEN KELLY'S APARTMENT - DAY
KATHLEEN KELLY is asleep. Kathleen, 30, is as pretty and
fresh as a spring day. Her bedroom cozy, has a queen-sized
bed and a desk with a computer on it. Bookshelves line every
inch of wall space and overflow with books. Framed on the
children's classic. Madeleine.
As Kathleen wakes up, her boyfriend FRANK NAVASKY walks into
the room. He wears blue jeans and a workshirt. He's carrying
the New York Times.
KATHLEEN
Good morning.
FRANK
(as he reads)
Listen to this -- the entire work force
of the state of Virginia had to have
solitaire removed from their computers --
Kathleen gets out of bed and goes to brush her teeth in the
bathroom, and we stay with Frank.
FRANK
(continuing)
-- because they hadn't done any work in
six weeks.
No, Fuck You
written by David Benioff, from his novel
(Monty walks into the bathroom. He looks in the mirror. In the bottom corner, someone's written Fuck You!) Monty: Yeah, fuck you, too. Monty's Reflection: Fuck me? Fuck you! Fuck you and this whole city and everyone in it.
Fuck the panhandlers, grubbing for money, and smiling at me behind my back.
Fuck squeegee men dirtying up the clean windshield of my car. Get a fucking job!
Fuck the Sikhs and the Pakistanis bombing down the avenues in decrepit cabs, curry steaming out their pores and stinking up my day. Terrorists in fucking training. Slow the fuck down!
Fuck the Chelsea boys with their waxed chests and pumped up biceps. Going down on each other in my parks and on my piers, jingling their dicks on my Channel 35.
Fuck the Korean grocers with their pyramids of overpriced fruit and their tulips and roses wrapped in plastic. Ten years in the country, still no
speaky English?
Fuck the Russians in Brighton Beach. Mobster thugs sitting in caf¨¦s, sipping tea in little glasses, sugar cubes between their teeth. Wheelin' and dealin'
and schemin'. Go back where you fucking came from!
Fuck the black-hatted Chassidim, strolling up and down 47th street in their dirty gabardine with their dandruff. Selling South African apartheid
diamonds!
Fuck the Wall Street brokers. Self-styled masters of the universe. Michael Douglas, Gordon Gecko wannabe mother fuckers, figuring out new ways to rob hard working people blind. Send those Enron assholes to jail for fucking life! You think Bush and Cheney didn't know about that shit? Give me a
fucking break! Tyco! Imclone! Adelphia! Worldcom!
Fuck the Puerto Ricans. 20 to a car, swelling up the welfare rolls, worst fuckin' parade in the city. And don't even get me started on the Dom-in-i-cans, because they make the Puerto Ricans look good.
Fuck the Bensonhurst Italians with their pomaded hair, their nylon warm-up suits, and their St. Anthony medallions. Swinging their, Jason Giambi,
Louisville slugger, baseball bats, trying to audition for the Sopranos.
Fuck the Upper East Side wives with their Hermés scarves and their fifty-dollar Balducci artichokes. Overfed faces getting pulled and lifted and stretched, all taut and shiny. You're not fooling anybody, sweetheart!
Fuck the uptown brothers. They never pass the ball, they don't want to play defense, they take fives steps on every lay-up to the hoop. And then they
want to turn around and blame everything on the white man. Slavery ended one hundred and thirty seven years ago. Move the fuck on!
Fuck the corrupt cops with their anus violating plungers and their 41 shots, standing behind a blue wall of silence. You betray our trust!
Fuck the priests who put their hands down some innocent child's pants. Fuck the church that protects them, delivering us into evil. And while you're at
it, fuck JC! He got off easy! A day on the cross, a weekend in hell, and all the hallelujahs of the legioned angels for eternity! Try seven years in
fuckin Otisville, Jay!
Fuck Osama Bin Laden, Alqueda, and backward-ass, cave-dwelling, fundamentalist assholes everywhere. On the names of innocent thousands
murdered, I pray you spend the rest of eternity with your seventy-two whores roasting in a jet-fueled fire in hell. You towel headed camel jockeys can
kiss my royal, Irish ass!
Fuck Jacob Elinski, whining malcontent.
Fuck Francis Xavier Slaughtery, my best friend, judging me while he stares at my girlfriend's ass.
Fuck Naturel Rivera. I gave her my trust and she stabbed me in the back. Sold me up the river. Fucking bitch.
Fuck my father with his endless grief, standing behind that bar. Sipping on club soda, selling whiskey to firemen and cheering the Bronx Bombers.
Fuck this whole city and everyone in it. From the row houses of Astoria to the penthouses on Park Avenue. From the projects in the Bronx to the lofts
in Soho. From the tenements in Alphabet City to the brownstones in Park slope to the split levels in Staten Island. Let an earthquake crumble it. Let the fires rage. Let it burn to fuckin ash then let the waters rise and submerge this whole, rat-infested place. Monty: No. No, fuck you, Montgomery Brogan. You had it all and then you threw it away, you dumb fuck! (He takes a breath and tries to rub away the words.)
Doesn't matter how you do it -- make it visible (use the back of the page for more directions/instructions)!
