|
I believe edge is the most overrated ingredient in any documentary.
Gritty is a more apt way to describe what passes for edge. Grittiness
is how we once portrayed old time baseball players with small gloves,
football players who wore little padding, hockey players who wore no
helmets, all in action before the era of big media. Now we use edge to
explain those films, mainly documentaries, the occasional true
independent narrative, and some third world films, in which the
filmmaker sets out to change peoples lives.
What is edge, really? Growing up in a world of blackboards where chalk
scraping the same as a fingernail across a windowpane still sends
shivers up my spine. That is edge. Jarring. Real, and unexpected. But
in almost all films, edge is contrived, a tone set in motion by the
filmmaker to send your emotions flying to where they do not want to
be, meaning often feeble attempts to set you on, yes, edge.
Manipulation is the key here. It is sometimes clever, often
inexplicable, there to tantalize and tease. For me, edge rarely
provides the audience with anything more that a momentary jolt,
something you can more easily, and often with more taste, get from a
strong cup of coffee followed by heartburn, and then an antacid to
relieve it, finally with a mint to refresh your mouth. Edge is usually
for the moment, transitory and fleeting. Define it how you will but
understand it rarely lasts.
Sometimes edge so dominates a film nothing else in the movie matters.
Other times edge is only a small part of the film but it can, and
sometimes does, draw away our attention and interest from the real
message of the film, the part that should affect us, if the filmmaker
does his or her job.
Edge, usually the falsified kind, makes its way into almost all the
documentaries we see on HBO and Showtime. Many of these productions
are difficult for me to watch. I do not want always to be a part of an
epiphany or some life changing experience that comes every thirty
seconds from the disenfranchised. Despite being a cynical long-time
journalist, I say, enough, I know that. Is there not something new you
can tell me or show me outside the ugliness of what you, the maker of
the film believes is real life? Life may be hell, but I do not need it
shoved down my throat for effect, especially by you, a filmmaker,
whose agenda bleeds all over your movie. For me, most edge is only for
effect and nothing more. Sand in my teeth is gritty. Not some fake
grit inside a filmmaker’s head.
There are a few tricks to make your film appear edgy when it is not.
Copying film noir is the key. Shoot everything in shadows. Make sure
the face of the interviewee is heavily modeled, meaning you light it
to have deep, frankly, phony shadows. Deep shadows convey deep
meaning, or so some think. All you might see is half the face as the
unusual light and dark cascades across the subject’s forehead and
cheekbones. Usually the face will be in tight close-up. An extreme
close-up conveys importance. A tight shot on the eyes, and only the
eyes, means the audience thinks it is peering into the subject’s soul.
That shot says film is more revealing than real life. Turn to the
early Russian filmmakers to get a look at how a single shot placed in
various positions conveys a different meaning to an audience as a
whole, and to each person looking at the film as an individual. Then,
how the editor juxtaposes each shot will affect the audience
differently concerning the time of day and even the weather. It is
remarkable to see the result of that original close-up, especially
when cleverly manipulated. A single shot can ultimately convey many
meanings.
Edge changes little about a film. Often making edge a major component
of a film is an immature mistake on the part of the filmmaker. Edge
when real and not forced can be effective. That, though, is rare. It
must come from within; otherwise it is bogus and short-lived. The
folks on the pay cable channels know that people turn on a film with
what they term edge faster than one without. That is why they program
the films they do. The belief is that unless something has guts, read
that as edge, no one will watch it. Critics will not pay the film any
attention. Audience matters more than content whatever the network.
Face it, edge, that wonder of words, even in most narrative films, is
seldom real, and often contrived to shore up a weak plot. In some
narrative, we expect edge. Gritty is the way to get attention. There
is a tradition of grittiness that goes back to the gangster films of
the 1930s and through film noir into the late forties and continuing
today. Mostly it comes from younger filmmakers who, despite acting
like grown-ups, are still innocent to the world in which they live.
They think they have the answers to life’s plight through their
made-up story. By the way, this also applies to young novelists who
are not yet thirty that want us to believe they have lived. I would
rather read a grizzled writer, with possible spittle on his lips and
rheumy eyes than someone just out of diapers. This speaks, as well, to
all filmmakers.
 |
|
Jim Jarmusch |
Do not take just my word for the misuse of edge in film. Listen to Jim
Jarmusch, said by many to be the last of the truly independent
filmmakers. Recently Jarmusch, in the New York Times, said this about
edge . “I reach for my revolver when I hear the word ‘quirky.’ Or
‘edgy.’ Those words are now becoming labels that are slapped on
products to sell them.”
Jarmusch is a talented director who makes the films that he wants to
make, not that some studio wants. Many aspiring filmmakers want,
rightfully to share their vision with us. They try to make their films
on small budgets or no budgets. They fly at whatever height they can
reach, often with only a whiff of hope and everything they can muster
in the search of their vision. The door is open for those willing to
step through. All we have to do is wait to see the talent that emerges
on the other side, edge or not.
Edge often lacks warmth. Its essence mistakes something ugly or
searing for deep meaning. Edge has no heart. Without heart, there can
be no change. Heart speaks to the soul. Edge is mostly visceral. Edge
only speaks to excitement and the resultant angst. Edge only points to
what is wrong. It offers no hope. With edge, there is never a solution
because we find ourselves spending too much time reacting to what is
wrong rather than finding a way to truth and change.
I know. I made a leap here from edge to independent filmmaking, but
the two are braided, one the part of the other. But edge id not always
necessary for the independent, a substantial part of the braid, to
survive. As soon as the filmmaker realizes that soul, depth, and heart
have the power to change, he or she might understand that edge is less
important than the core of soul, depth and heart, usually the elements
that move people, rather than merely, as does edge, something with
which to scratch an itch.
.........................................................................................................................
At NBC News for 35 years, Ron Steinman was bureau chief
in Saigon, Hong Kong and London, was a senior producer on Today and wrote
and produced for Sunday Today. At ABC News Productions, he produced
and wrote documentaries for A&E, TLC, Discovery, Lifetime and the
History Channel. He has a Peabody, a National Headliner award, a
National Press Club award, a International Documentary Festival Gold
Camera Award, two American Women in Radio & Television awards and
has been nominated for five Emmy's. He is a partner in
Douglas/Steinman Productions, whose latest documentary, "Luboml: My
Heart Remembers," aired on PBS' WLIW/21 and the History Channel in
Israel, April 29, 2003. He is the author of, "The Soldiers 'Story",
"Women in Vietnam," and most recently, "Inside Television's First
War: A Saigon Journal," University of Missouri Press, 2002. |
