Inside THE RED ROBIN: The Making of the Feature Film: The Ides of March 2011

Thursday, March 17, 2011

The Ides of March 2011

So aside from the world crumbling from earthquakes, tsunamis and nuclear meltdowns, movies are still, from what i understand, getting made. Life's numerous disasters puts the shenanigans of making a movie in perspective especially during those oft self-pitying moments. Welcome to to my attempt at keeping a public record of the making of a very special film. Making a movie is often compared to pregnancy and I cannot think of a more appropriate metaphor, especially at this point in my life. There are many similarities and differences as well. Both biological and cinematic pregnancies have morning sickness but the latter can have nausea spells that last throughout the day and night. Both can make the impregnated radiant and glowing with life but also beat the shit out of them physically and emotionally. Biological pregnancy has trimesters and cinematic pregnancy has stages of production-pre, production, and post. I'd argue the one main difference between the two is that in the case of creating a movie, the gestation process is much much much longer than 9 months and you just don't know when that baby is going to arrive. I'm sure my wife is going to cringe when she reads this.

Let me shed some of my own light on what are some of the "truths" I've been discovering(these may be different from other filmmakers. No gospel here, just my own experiences). First, just you can't get a little pregnant making a movie. If you do, you will--dare I say it--abort or miscarry. There are too many people trying to do what you're doing, it's crazy competitive, and many of those people will die before giving up on their labour of love. Here's a metaphor I haven't been able to shake. Many years ago I was watching the New York City Marathon with a composer friend of mine who did the music for my very first short film at NYU. As over 36,000 runners were passing us on 3rd avenue, he turned and said "You know what that is Mike? That's the film business. At any given moment, that's the amount of people trying to make a movie, sell a script, do the impossible. " Slightly dramatic but I think about that enormous pack of runners when making this movie. It's not to deflate me but to inject reality into this process. You can't make a movie without training and you better realize now rather than later that it's not 10 people in a room, it's like those American Idol stadium sized crowds all trying to get those coveted few spots of greatness. Moviemaking is really for folks who are tireless and refuse the answer NO. It's really that simple. If you can't stand rejection or even the taste of it, even a smattering, dollop, iota, let alone the aroma of it, get out. Unless you're made of money born with the proverbial silver spoon, or have a rich relative for whom writing a million dollar check is not going to cause heart palpitations, the act of making a movie is going to be...ready for this...one of the hardest things you ever endeavor to do. Let me clarify a few things: if you are making a guerilla micro-budget movie, it will still be difficult but I'm specifically referring to my current endeavor which is making a movie with well known actors for a decent amount of money that necessitates financing. If you're making a film without a care for who is in it and can accomplish this on a shoestring, more power to you, but if you're like myself swimming upstream trying to gain momentum raising funds by bringing together an impressive group of talented team menmbers...then take heed--it's going to take time, tremendous will power, dedication/drive, and an obsession with getting this done.

Okay, I'm not meaning this blog-especially the first entry-to be a bitchfest. I'm now on 6 years(if you include when I started writing this script) in the journey of getting this movie made. In movie years, this is nothing. People spend far more time. Most projects never even get made, they get abandoned. Still, to me, 6 years a lot has happened. I have been raising 2 very rambunctious boys, I have had to make a living and pay bills(again, if you're an heir or from money, you should probably skip most of this blog(You will only perceive what is one of my fundamental resentments of film which are the rich kids who only make movies because they're rich and can afford it...there's a taste of my resentment and it's not nice...but more on the silver spoon and spoiled later) These 6 years have been probably the hardest of my life just in terms of sheer amount of responsibilities both financially, emotionally, personally, and yes, creatively. (Note: I don't recommend trying to make a movie the first 5 years of a child's life--especially 2, but again, that's another blog entirely) So where was I? Let's just get to the opening statement of this blog. Fear not, this isn't about chronicling the frustrations of a filmmaker. I mean, that's part of moviemaking so it will come into play. This blog is really aimed at filmmakers and non-filmmakers alike, to better understand a very complicated process and one that doesn't have a paradigm or roadmap. Why would non-filmmakers be interested in learning about a process that is anything but linear and perhaps not even something they ever plan on doing in their lives? Well, I can't say I have the perfect answer except hopefully this will be not only about the creative process of how my brain arrived at certain decisions. This will be about the formation of a business from 2 words: Fade In. It will also be about the lessons I've learned and will learn. And mostly, it will be about what it takes to follow your dream and see it through. I think that's something we can all appreciate whether or not we have chased windmills or dreamed about chasing them.

So instead of talking much about where I am in the process of making this movie for this first entry, I just want to welcome all of you to the making of "The Red Robin." This is a movie that I've bled from my heart and soul and I hope when it is done it's obvious. If we were on a cross-country road trip from NYC to Los Angeles, I'd say we're somewhere in New Mexico right now, the car has overheated a few times, we've gotten lost here and there, but like in any good roadtrip movie, we have got some incredible characters who have gotten onboard with us: we have an incredible and dynamic cast as well as a superbly talented creative above-the-line team.

Even if the car breaksdown and the engine dies, we still have the necessary manpower and talent to get to our destination. Another words, the movie IS GETTING MADE.

Welcome onboard and hope you stay for the duration of the trip, but please buckle your seatbelts. We're only just getting started.

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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

Thursday, March 17, 2011

The Ides of March 2011

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