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They've asked me to say a few things about myself here,
but instead of
talking about myself, I thought of a story about one of
my favorite
directors, Jean Renoir.
Renoir began making films in the 1920's in France, and
besides being
the son of the famous Impressionist painter and a decorated
hero in
World War I, his greatest fame came as the result of an
incredible run
of films he made in the late 1930's that mark him as one
of the giants
of the cinema. Two of those, Grand Illusion (1937)
and The Rules of
the Game (1939) are consistently ranked among the greatest
films of
the twentieth century. Sometimes overlooked, however, is
La Bete
humaine (The Human Beast) from 1938 in which rugged,
working-class
hero Jean Gabin portrays a locomotive engineer. For complete
authenticity, scenes were shot in the cab of the steam engine,
which
Gabin himself had learned to operate just for the part.
You can
imagine the situation: cramped, sooty and unbearably hot,
flying along
through the outskirts of Paris. Now add a director, cinematographer,
sound recordist, etc. Not the ideal conditions for a film
shoot, but
the authenticity is more than evident in the film. As he
is setting up
for a shot, Renoir's cinematographer, Curt Courant, politely
asked
Monsieur Gabin to take a tiny step to his left, just to
facilitate the
framing (this is something that happens all the time on
shoots, even
where there is unlimited space; imagine how precise the
camera and
actor had to be in this tiny engineer's cabin). Upon hearing
this
simple request, the usually easy-going and affable Renoir
spins around
and chastises his cameraman. "Don't ever speak to the
actor that way!"
he said. "The actors are not slaves. They are not here
at your
service. If anything, you are at their
service."
Point made.
I never forgot that story, and I suppose it very well sums
up my
feelings for the delicate relationship between the actors
and the
technicians, those who are necessary for the performance,
and those
necessary for the recording of it. As a cameraman, I have
many times
asked someone to take a tiny step to their left, but I did
so
reluctantly. I never liked placing boundaries around the
actor, but
the reality of filmmaking unfortunately calls for it a times.
My job
is to walk a fine line between the needs of the director
to tell a
story, and the actors to perform at their best. Having an
actor put
their trust in me, to feel comfortable on the set and to
know that I
will do everything I can to make them look great is a big
responsibility, and one that I take very seriously. I thought
the best
thing I could ever do (along with making the director happy)
is to
give the actors pictures they could be proud of, something
they could
take to any director or producer or casting people and say,
"This is
who I am, this is how good I can look, now give me a job."
I didn't
always nail it, but I always tried.
So to all the directors and actors at Stonestreet with
whom I have had
the privilege to have worked: I was honored to have been
at your
service, and I hope we get to do it again someday.
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