3 minute read

DEFINITELY MAYBE

Whenever an aspiring cinematographer inquires as to how I got to where I am today, I always find myself a bit flummoxed. To say ‘I did this...’ or ‘I did that...’ would relate only a small part of what’s important. Most of the time I spit-up the obvious: work and study hard, shoot everything you can, establish and nurture connections, take advantage of every opportunity. I also emphasize that they should run their own race and not concern themselves with what anyone else is doing.

While none of this approaches the Holy Grail, I’m eager to help and sympathetic to their cause; not long ago (to me, at least!) I was in their position, too. Simply telling someone where I put a light or how I photographed a certain scene would be meaningless. But if they can find a parallel between the way I’ve done some of the less common things and their own development, I consider it mission accomplished.

Another question I occasionally hear comes from members of my own crew who want to know about transitioning to the next slot within their department. This has led to some interesting exchanges regarding the ways in which people pay their dues and grow into their jobs.

My first assignment came about in late 1978 when I worked as a production assistant on a commercial in New York City. Rather than marking the start of a dream-come-true, I recall it more as something I stumbled into. Yet, luck was with me; the camera beckoned and I soon knew I had found my calling.

As I proceeded to put one foot in front of the other and the work rolled-in, I thought I was the luckiest guy in the world. I was also ambitious and right away had my eyes on a higher prize, but things were quite regimented back then and there were specific protocols to be followed as you moved along.

The most important were to stay in your lane and zip your lip. If, God forbid, you had any desire to advance, it was best kept to yourself, especially if you wanted to continue getting work in your present rating. Up-and-comers of my generation lived on the promise of tomorrow. If the time came and the planets lined-up in just the right way, maybe you’d get a chance for a promotion. But just, maybe. There were no guarantees.

same madness. There’s nothing I wouldn’t do to help that individual advance. Each time I felt ready to move up – from loader to 2nd AC, then to 1st AC, operator and finally DP - I stopped taking jobs in the previous category. Did I get any flak from my colleagues? Yes, a load of it, which I duly ignored. Was it scary? Sure, it was, at least in the beginning! Of course, prior to making the move I prepared for a dry spell by saving enough money to live on for a good long period. But that’s all it took. To my surprise, I always found that the process of establishing things anew was much the same across the board. I was merely forcing everyone to see me in a different way and approaching a new list of prospective employers.

For better and worse, the landscape has changed. The system that existed since the beginning - of grinding away, putting in time and moving up incrementally – doesn’t hold anymore. We’re now living in the Wild West and for the most part, anything goes. Just declare yourself whatever it is you want to be! Young people hand me their business cards all the time: “John/ Jane Doe: Key Grip, Editor, Props, Producer, Director, Cinematographer.” (No matter the jumble, it’s funny how ‘cinematographer’ is always last!) Their sense of entitlement astounds me, but I identify with their impatience. While loading mags and pulling focus in the 1980s, I had no doubt about the direction in which I was heading, and I was willing to do most anything to get there. I had no expectation of shooting a feature or TV show in my twenties – or ever, perhaps – but I was certain I’d rather die than not give the effort my all.

And that’s precisely why I respond so strongly when I meet someone who’s possessed of the

I suppose that if I was 25 today and fresh out of film school, I’d want to jump right in at the head of the line too. But eagerness is no equal to experience, and in the end that’s the only thing that counts. This is why I still encourage young people to pursue some sort of practical apprenticeship if they’re truly serious about their future in the trade.

The cinematographer’s responsibilities have increased exponentially since the switch to digital workflows, and I can’t imagine any other way to become truly qualified for what they’ll eventually be facing. Some film schools lay a decent foundation with the basics, but as we know, there’s so much more to it than three-point lighting and the Rule Of Thirds. Applying those principles while managing an ever-shifting balance of time, people, politics and resources, can be learned only by doing it, or at least by closely observing a professional for a considerable period of time.

As with so many aspects of cinematography, there is no one-size-fits-all answers to this challenge. Fortunately, the path I chose was a perfect fit. I don’t know if it would be right for anyone else, but it certainly worked out well for me!

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