Inside THE RED ROBIN: The Making of the Feature Film: 2 steps forward 1 step back

Wednesday, March 23, 2011

2 steps forward 1 step back

I always remind myself of the inevitability of this cliche being a reality of the enterprise of making a film. For every victory, there always seems to be some set back. Sometimes and often there are more set backs in a row that seem to make the whole thing an excercise in masochism. Now my friggin macintosh plug isn't working so i have limited time to write something here that can serve to be of some value to me or somebody who has the time and desire to ever read this blog. Going back to victories and set backs, I've learned that even when you have a victory--an actor signs on, a great meeting, a new investor, almost everything comes with a price. And what is being tested constantly is how willing you are to listen and bring new and sometimes horrible, sometimes brilliant ideas into your film. Everyone has something creative to say and because I'm the producer, if those ideas come from money folks, I have to keep my ego and pride on but in neutral. I've always been such an accomodating person which in this case makes it easy for people to contribute their 2 cents. I listen, I even often say 'good idea, i'll think about it' SOmetimes I allow myself to completely become host to an idea that is just bad but I want people to want to work on this film that I come across as very flexible. I think I need to pull back on this because, keep in mind, an idea(good and bad) can often lead to delays in your shoot, rewriting a scene that may alter your script intangibly for the worse. It's a double-edged sword: you need people more than they need you, most of the time, and therefore you have to seem accomodating but also keep your vision protected.

A friend/collaborator on the film reminded me yesterday that this is my script, my project, don't forget that, you know what's best. It's my EPs expression 'lots of white noise out there' Like the time my former entertainment attorney, who just came from a panel in Sundace in 2008 which was about black filmmakers, said i should consider turning my movie into an urban black film. How you could do that with my movie I really don't think i could get high enough to figure that out. He said something about guns on video covers with Ice Cube being a big driver for DVD sales and how I should consider that with Red Robin. I was dumbstruck but that's an extreme example of simply learning to listen process and move on. There have been a lot of stupid comments made over the course of developing this film. I should actually come up with my Dave Letterman top ten. Here's a few:

1. Can you make it into an urban black film

2. I could get it to Harrison Ford. I know the guy who works on his home computers.

3. Could you shoot this in 3d.

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About The Red Robin

“The Red Robin” focuses on the dynamics of a family whose dying patriarch stands accused of a shadowy past by one of his children. Every aspect of the filmmaking, from the acting to the visuals and editing, are tinted by a traumatic incident from the family’s past that remains unknown to them. As the director of the film, I plan to visualize the damage this buried incident inflicts on the Shellners, how it twists and subverts their reality, and its combustible ability to reap havoc on their lives over the course of one night. The palette of this film could best be described as “Cinema of the Traumatized” and this expression should live and breath inside every frame. Inside the house, the interior design hasn’t been updated for decades with browns, yellows and beige colors popular in the 70’s—though a sanctuary at one time, it’s now tired and depressing. One can’t step foot in the Shellner house without feeling the weight of the world, as if an albatross of despair looms over everything and everyone. Though the story is set in the present, the visuals will have the fragile graininess of aged film from the seventies and the colors desaturated and muted, representing the time which the incident happened. The faces of the Shellners are photographed “unglamorously,” with practicals, giving expressions a raw, real and sallow look drained of all inner/outer beauty. When the accusations of abuse are leveled against the father, the images will retain their yellowish pallor but shot with higher contrast, more areas of darkness to heighten the mystery and confusion. Only when the resolution comes at the end of the film does the image feel contemporary and the faces return to some state of health as if the narrative is able to move out of its trapped past. The camera work will also reflect the emotional burden trauma has had on this family. In the beginning of the story, the action will be kept eye-level, framed in unobtrusive wide shots with little movement, lending a heaviness to the image. The coverage will be minimal and some entire scenes may consist of 1 angle to convey that life has all but come to a halt. Editing will be dictated by the sparce shooting style and will therefore be paced slowly. Many compositions in the house will feature family members framed against enormous windows or the majestic fireplace, giving the image a weight that suggests something unseen is crippling our characters. After the story takes its first dramatic turning point with the son’s accusations of his father’s past, the visuals will become increasingly agitated, unhinged. Similar to movie’s like Roman Polanski’s “Repulsion” which depicts a woman’s mental breakdown inside her modest flat, trauma works its way into the psyches of the family and the sanctuary of home becomes alien, threatening and even dangerous. While the accusing son, Tommy, hunts for the truth escalates and mental state become manic, the camera will mimick his psychology with less steady shots on the tripod, abrupt pans and tilts, erratic zooms, focus-adjustments, and compositions that are busier. Eventually, as Tommy’s siblings begin to have “memory relapses,” the cinema of the Shellner’s becomes “agitated” Camera angles are more assymetrical, exaggerated, closer, and depth of field compresses. Beyond the literal visuals taking place in the house, there’s also the mental “flashes” that Tommy experiences throughout. These are the traumatic “pinches” that give the viewer a sense of his mindset but are also pieces to the underlying past which haunts the family. Because Tommy accuses his father, Nathaniel, of performing government mind control experiments on the children, these flashes should resemble an actual filmed tests. The performances of the family members are equally impacted by trauma. When the story begins, there’s a heaviness to nearly every minute behavior of the characters. Their speech, movements and reactions.are slower than “normal.” Though they don’t realize it, they are paralyzed by their past and not just their present predicament. When one of the children, Tommy, invokes claims of his father’s horrors, the characters undergo a full-fledged identity crisis. With each character experiencing some terrifying recall they don’t understand, they become unhinged, even foreign to themselves, and unpredictable in their minute to minute reactions. The notion that their family history could be a big lie is must be reflected in their behavior. At the same time, there must be a devotional love for their father which complicates their emotions and makes shifting alliances difficult, if not, impossible. Even Tommy struggles with his own premise as it undermines a view of his father as his savior and that must resonate in every nuance of his performance. The patriarch, Nathaniel, will be directed to succeed at saving his children at all costs, no matter what kind of slandering takes place. He rescued and adopted these children from horrible lives and he will not pass until he’s assured they are ok. His frustration with Tommy is tempered with his compassion and he never pulls out daggers to combat what he’s convinced is mental illness. His weapon is his undying dedication even as he struggles with his final hours of life. Movies like Thomas Vinterberg’s searing drama, “The Celebration” and Mike Nichol’s classic, “Whose Afraid of Virginia Wolfe” have inspired me as successful examples of small stories with high emotions told on a large cinematic canvas. Both taking place in one night and in one location with families that undergo seismic conflicts based in trauma, these movies bear mentioning for their wonderful ensemble casts and performances that take us convincingly through some difficult psychological terrain. My approach to directing “The Red Robin” puts the same emphasis on having a cast that can take us to the very edge and back without over-acting and melodrama. Because there are 6 children and 2 parents in a very confined space, the actors must know their parameters and pitch and be careful not to overwhelm each other. As the director, I will make sure that the combustion never becomes theatrical or over-the-top and there’s a realism to the performances and shooting style that keeps us believing. I will encourage my cast to adopt the maxim “Less is more” knowing how easily high emotions in small space can transport us to the stage. Though there’s an abundance of dialogue in the script, I will emphasize silence, restraint and a style of acting that keeps the audience guessing what our characters are thinking and going through.. “The Red Robin” is most engaging at the level of keeping the audience in the dark, taking them out again, then putting them back just when they think they have figured it all out. I would like people to come away from this film not only be entertained by the thrilling plot twists, but moved by the story about a family struggling to cope with a great loss and suffering.

Inside THE RED ROBIN: The Making of the Feature Film

Wednesday, March 23, 2011

2 steps forward 1 step back

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