Merlin Mann, discussing the allure of counter-intuitive facts, and by extension, Upworthy-style clickbait:

“It’s this entire culture of needing to undo the conventional wisdom of things by showing you something ‘surprisingly obvious’ that nobody else got. The people who do the actual grinding work that leads to important scientific discoveries and social science discoveries – the grinding work behind that does not lead to that many ‘turns out’ things unless you really cherry pick from the information that’s available. It just doesn’t happen, and the problem is now that that’s begun to poison the well. […] It becomes a kind of intellectual M&M’s, where people get a little bit addicted to it, because it is really enjoyable to read about.”

For a staff that Ira Glass claims were “babies” in television production, ‘This American Life’ sure looks like it knows what it’s doing in its two seasons on Showtime. These are Ira’s on-location intros from each episode of season one.

Ira Glass, discussing the biggest difference to him in storytelling in radio vs. television:

On TV, that version of a story where somebody tells you something that happens in the past is not good TV, and what works on TV is for the camera to be there as the story unfolds.

“Basically, we lit the film by choosing the right places to shoot it.”
— Cinematographer Roger Deakins on building the look of ‘Prisoners’ by carefully selecting locations and using their inherent nature to motivate light. Despite the film it refers to, this is excellent, often forgotten advice.
from shooting ‘Society Song’.

from shooting ‘Society Song’.

“I think movies are great when they’re about something small that you make complicated, not something complicated that you try to make small.”
— Tony Gilroy
“I’m trying to think of what the difference is between things that are conceived as movies originally and things that aren’t. Certainly a movie to me should have extended sequences where people don’t talk. Somebody was asking me the other day — I was saying I’d seen this film that I felt wasn’t really a movie, and they said ‘what do you mean it wasn’t a movie’, and I said, ‘you could play it on the radio and understand everything’. There should be extended periods where it’s just visuals.”
— Steven Soderbergh

Spider (2002)
Dir. David Cronenberg

If you’re looking to crib notes on ideas for blocking scenes in various aspect ratios (and you have an hour to spare), watch David Bordwell’s video lecture on CinemaScope.

Paul Thomas Anderson on Character Motivation

From an interview with Creative Screenwriter, Paul Thomas Anderson:

CS: One scene in Boogie Nights that was very effective was when Dirk’s mother screams at him and kicks him out of the house. A lot of people who come from dysfunctional families told me that scene was like something out of their lives. Were you surprised a lot of people could not only relate to the scene but also thought it was one of the strongest in the film?

PTA: Yeah, but I was also surprised by how many people thought it was one of the weakest scenes in the movie. When his mother comes at him like that, she’s really crazy and out of control. She’s kind of without motivation to a certain extent. I think one of the greatest mistakes that I’ve made in the past and that a writer can make is, “What’s the character’s motivation?” Well, a lot of times it’s so fucking confused and so polluted that you really have no idea. That woman is pretty nuts, and I think it’s sometimes hard for an audience to grab a hold of a character whose intentions aren’t clear. You don’t really know what the fuck she’s yelling about. You know she has an odd jealousy towards him or towards the neighborhood girl that he’s banging, so she’s upset about that, but her actions are so manic, you can’t get a hold of them. I was just really glad that the actress in the scene didn’t require a lot of clarity on her behavior, because I couldn’t have given it. I really wrote what made sense, and what made sense was sometimes so illogical. There are some people that saw it and said, “That scene doesn’t make sense! Why is she going crazy?” And I would just say, “You know what? I’ve never been able to figure it out.” But it sure makes sense, and I’ve sure been there. 

Solaris (2002)
Dir. Steven Soderbergh

Serving as his own cinematographer, Steven Soderbergh shoots flashbacks for ‘Solaris’ using graduated ND filters in a truly innovative way.

Traditionally, graduated ND filters are used in wide exterior shots to darken skies that are overly bright. The top of the frame is the darkest, slowly tapering off down to a point of your choosing into transparency. They come in colours, too, but we won’t get into that. Excessive, noticable overlap in the foreground is considered a faux pas (ie, CSI: Miami).

With no regard for these rules, Soderbergh uses the filters in exteriors, interiors, and even in closeups. While they place us narratively in the past, they also convey the darkness of memory, loss, longing, outer space, and a feeling of the future – all hanging above us.

Sidenote: While still in use today, ND gradients tend to be replaced by digital gradients made by colourists in post-production, especially since using the filter in-camera means committing to the look with no way to remove it afterwards. With ‘Solaris’ shot on film in 2002, digital grading was still on the cusp of going mainstream, so this was really Soderbergh’s only option (but it was still a ballsy move).

The Sopranos - The Test Dream (Dir. Allen Coulter)
Inception (Dir. Christopher Nolan)
The Game (Dir. David Fincher)
Synedoche, New York (Dir. Charlie Kaufman)

Extras As The Subconscious

Traditionally, extras populate the periphery of film and television scenes to fill out the story world and create believable spaces for action to take place. Recently, filmmakers have been using them very effectively as extensions of a character’s subconscious. To set this up, here’s David Bordwell, discussing films as dreams:

“Throughout the history of film theory and criticism, movies have been compared to dreams, but the critics of the 1940s pursued this metaphor more avidly than earlier writers. Barbara Deming suggested that American films revealed a dream-portrait of their public at the period.

It is not as mirrors reflect us but, rather, as our dreams do, that movies most truly reveal the times.… Through them we can read with a peculiar accuracy the fears and confusions that assail us.… The heroes and heroines who are most popular at any particular period are precisely those who, with a certain added style, with a certain distinction, act out the predicament in which we all find ourselves (Deming 1969, p. 1).”

Let’s look at ‘The Sopranos’ first. In ‘The Test Dream’, the titular dream sequence has Tony emerging from a crowd that has just witnessed a violent murder in the middle of the street. As the scene progresses, we can see how intentionally surreal and contrived the blocking of this crowd is, yet their presence feels real and true to dream milieus of our own experience. Later, this crowd will become an angry mob that pursues Tony – they aren’t just extras; they are projections, judging and acting on his lack of foresight and repressed guilt. “Why didn’t you stop him?” somebody asks.

‘Inception’s story almost completely takes place within dreams, so its cinematic reality is decidedly more grounded. In one scene, Cobb (Leonardo DiCaprio) puts himself in danger when he has a mini-freak out within someone else’s dream that he’s visiting, which catches the attention of that dreamer’s subconscious. In the bar where Cobb sits, the extras simply glance up; their sudden awareness of Cobb’s presence is chilling. Just like ‘The Sopranos’, these extras can also become aggressive, threatening mobs.

The story world of ‘The Game’ is not a dream in a literal sense, but it presents similar questions that a dream would for the protagonist, who is forced to question and catalogue who is ‘in’ on an elaborate trick being played against him. As an audience, we do the same thing – the film is designed to bring nearly everything that unfolds onscreen into question. The extras in ‘The Game’ aren’t expressly malicious, instead their presence is more fluid and ambiguous, preying on the main character’s fear and insecurity retroactively. In an underground hospital parking lot scene, an entire hospital staff vanishes with theatrical precision. Later, the film brings back its most distinctive extras in a cafeteria scene as Van Orten pulls back the curtain on the game’s mechanics. Here’s David Fincher: 

“[The scene is conceived] with the idea that you’re walking into the school cafeteria and everybody that you just humiliated yourself in front is talking about you.”

Finally, in ‘Synecdoche, New York’, Caden (Philip Seymour Hoffman) creates nested realities that are host to a small city of extras. As the film progresses, their presence becomes intentionally contrived and thematically connected. In one scene, Caden addresses their significance directly:

“There are millions of people in the world. None of these people is an extra. They’re all leads in their own stories. They have to be given their due.”

Caden’s intentions are noble, but the entire film is proof of his shortcomings as a writer – it would be shortsighted to transpose his intended message to the film’s. So what’s the point of all these extras? They seem to serve as projections of Caden’s perceived awareness of his mortality and insignificance. His grossly overpopulated story world withers away as he ages, eventually becoming completely uninhabited, leaving Caden to die (almost) alone.

Kaufman uses extras in another way: Sammy, who eventually Caden casts to play himself, can be seen throughout the film half of the film shadowing him. Sammy is photographed like any normal extra, but something about the way he’s blocked and the amount of time we hold on him makes us single out his presence quite consistently before we officially ‘meet’ him. In regards to his own presence in the story world, Sammy offers only this:

“I've been following you for twenty years. So I knew about this audition because I follow you. And I’ve learned everything about you by following you. So hire me, and you'll see who you truly are.”

Sammy is a total enigma; he’s not Caden, and yet he can be no one else – the two of them together are mirrors that endlessly reflect and distort their own image of one another. Sammy creeps into Caden’s reality as an extra, and as we drown in Caden’s nesting fictional worlds, they switch places. Caden arrives where Sammy started, and we realize his purpose is to become an extra in his own story.