Ph.D. diss. Media Unlimited: How the Torrent of Images and Sounds Overwhelms Our Lives Elusive Intimacy: An Interview with Patrice Chéreau. (films like Patrice Chereau's Intimacy, the work of Catherine Breillat, become merely moments in a continuum, in a torrent of creativity whose energy. Written by: Patrice Chéreau and Anne-Louise Trividic But Vincent Gallo did it in The Brown Bunny, with Chloe Sevigny performing the act. DIAGRAMA DE BODE EN MULTISIM TORRENT InternshipProgram - The ever experienced the ROMmon mode problem, for using software innovative team environment. Sometimes you need just have 1. I do however the IPS module automatically blocks traffic that it identified machine you want. Free software that the topmost choice, the use of description getmail6 is both numbers to.
Book Chapter. Cite Icon Cite. This content is only available as PDF. You do not currently have access to this chapter. Sign in Don't already have an account? Client Account. You could not be signed in. Sign In Forgot password? Don't have an account? Sign in via your Institution Sign In. Email alerts Latest Books. The Long Haul. The Unhappy Presidency of Jimmy Carter.
The Kiss. Related Topics movy. Did You Kiss the Dead Body? Neighborhood context and racial differences in early adolescent sexual activity. Plain Assertive Yes-No Questions. Paternal involvement with adolescents in intact families: The influence of fathers over the life course.
Alternative Combined Questions. But all my contributors share that passion and I hope the reader feels that it is communicated in these pages. Where I was unable to travel to the country of a contributor in some cases the interview vii Acknowledgements was conducted by a mutual friend, in otiiers tine response was by letter and e-mail. Often it involved translation, either by colleagues in England or before the text was sent to me. Virginie Langlais was good enough to translate some of Frangois Gedigier's interview.
I have to thank Alan Griffin for his research on my behalf and mak- ing contact for me with Julia Juaniz in Spain and Eleni Alexandrakis for performing similar services for me in Greece and making the time to interview TakisYannopoulos in Athens. Sylvia Ingemarsson's original text was translated for me by Paivi Overend. Sylvia's interview was conducted during a particularly pleasant day at her home. Andrej Mellin set up my contacts with the two Polish editors, and Gaby Prekop acted as intermediary for the Hungarians.
I have also to thank all other translators including Eva Cieszewska and Emiliano Battista. At Elsevier, Jenny Ridout was the one who believed in the concept for the book, and I thank her for putting her faith in me, even though it has been a struggle to deliver the MS.
Christina Donaldson and Georgia Kennedy couldn't have been more helpful. Lastly I wish to record my deep sense of loss at the death of Sabine Mamou. Sabine welcomed me into her home and immediately moved me by her open and honest attitudes. Her moral stance and her political and social commitment stood as an example to us all.
She served to remind me that although editing can be a very rewarding role it can also involve questions of morality and of good and evil. I am sorry Sabine will not see this book but I think and hope her words represent her well. Then around , at age fourteen, it unexpectedly discovered the intoxi- cating and almost sexual power of montage. What emerged out of this adolescence, as a butterfly out of its chrysalis, was cinema. We have the testimony of Edison and the Lumiere brothers, American and European inventors of the mechanisms that made motion pictures possible, but the voices of those who invented the art of montage, which made cinema possible, are long lost.
And they were largely European, anticipating developments in America by a couple of years. How did G. Smith, in , arrive upon the idea of the closeup in Grandma's Reading Glass? How were these basic ideas elaborated and refined by Melies, Mottershaw, Haggard, Porter and others? There are some interviews with the American director D. Griffith, and the books on theory written years later by Russian directors Eisenstein and Pudovkin.
But as for what actually took place in the ix Foreword editorial trencines in tine first two decades of tine 20tii century we have only the most fragmentary circumstantial evidence, and in Balazs was already mourning the lost opportunity. But we let the opportunity pass.
But the defining craft of cinema - montage - seems to have quickly invented itself in a cocoon of silence, and to have continued that reticence as part of its protective colouration. Perhaps this is due to the personality of film editors themselves, or to the nature of their role as seconds to forceful and articulate directors. Or to the work itself, which most often aspires to burnish the efforts of others and to remain itself unnoticed.
Perhaps it is simply priestly discretion: there is something of the confession booth to the editing room, where the omissions and commissions of shooting are whispered and discretely absolved by concealment or alchemically transformed into discoveries. Or maybe it is due to the very lack of deep-rooted tradition: there is not yet a rich vocabulary to describe what goes on as moving images mingle and fertilise each other, so we remain mute. Or cryptic: 'Why did you make that cut?
Several compilations of interviews with American film editors have been published in the last decade, but Fine Cuts: The Art of European Film Editing is notably the first collection to focus on European editors with their inspiringly diverse ways of assembling film. It also features illumin- ating guest appearances by a number of European directors - Godard, Varda, Tarkovsky, Truffaut, Mackinnon, Tarr - offering their insights into the editing process.
Many of the interviewees belong to cinema's fourth generation - those who began their careers in the s and s, as does the author Roger Crittenden - and as do I. As obvious as it might have been, this had never occurred to me before - Hollywood movies seemed simply to appear, Wke the weather, or landscapes glimpsed from a train.
But the idea was too much for a fifteen-year old with no family connections to the film industry, and so it lay dormant. Dormant - until I sawTruffaut's Quatre cents coups the next year, and Godard's A bout de souffle the year after that. As those two films confidently broke rules to which I had been oblivious, they allowed me my first glimpse of the power of montage, and it was conse- quently a great pleasure to read Roger's conversation with Agnes Guillemot, the only editor to work with both Godard andTruffaut.
What gives all of these interviews their complexity and warmth is not only the ten different nationalities, but even more so the richly diverse and 'uncinematic' family backgrounds of the editors collected here. Had they followed in their parents' footsteps they would have instead become teachers, pilots, tailors, doctors, farmers, chemists, vegetable sellers, astronomers, bookkeepers, salesmen, road workers, dry cleaners, dentists or civil servants.
Luckily for the readers of this marvellous book, and for world cinema, they took another route and - to use Godard's evocative description of film editing - transformed fiance into destiny, making the varied circumstances of their lives a reflection of montage at its most sublime, when accidental moments are propelled by structure into inevitability.
Walter Murch London, June xi This page intentionally left blank Introduction The fascinating odyssey of investigating and appreciating the lives and careers of more than two dozen editors from across Europe has reminded me of my own initiation into the craft. IVIany of my contributors entered the cutting room by accident rather than inten- tion. Certainly the majority did not choose editing as a career until after their initial experiences.
Their innocence at the outset, even their naivety, may in some cases have made them better candi- dates for the job since, in my opinion, a lack of preconceptions gives the aspiring editor certain advantages. Ironically, by the time I had graduated from university with a degree in sociology, which had been a strange diversion from reality, I knew categorically that I had to work in film and moreover that I wanted to be an editor, despite having never entered a cutting room or even read a book on the subject - the pleasure of discovering Karel Reisz's 'The Technique of Film Editing' came later, and if I had read Eisenstein and the other Russian theorists I might well have been put-off the idea all together.
However I had fallen in with a group at college who shared a passion for the cinema and I became obsessed with the medium which could deliver such a spectrum of pleasures from 'Singin' in the Rain' to 'The Seventh Seal'. After a dreadful autumn and winter trying and failing to break into the business, I got my first job as a dogs-body in a small film com- pany in London's Soho, just as I had resigned myself to the idea of working in a processing laboratory to get a Union ticket - an essen- tial passport to the industry in those days.
Just as important as the job was enrolling in evening classes at The London School of Film Technique which was housed in a run-down Victorian house in Electric Avenue, Brixton. The course taught me next to nothing: the lecturer in direction, a veteran of the Berlin Studios of the s who claimed to have xiii Introduction worked with G.
Pabst, whose 'Pandora's Box' had transformed the career of Louise Brooks, only appeared twice. His unfortunate wife usually substituted for him and amongst other subjects coached us in how to make the best goulash outside of Hungary. The axiom of the editing tutor, who was very articulate about cop- ing with the privations of cutting in the inhospitable climate of West Africa, from where he had just returned, was that in cutting 'if it looks right, it is right'.
The one skill I acquired was to make cement joins in 16mm film which stood a fair chance of holding together when projected. For our final project groups of us were given hun- dred feet of black and white 16mm film, which lasts two-and-a-half minutes, to make a silent film. It was hardly a step to Hollywood or even Pinewood. But over the six months, on two evenings a week, I made two won- derful friends - an Indian, Durga Ghosh, and an Australian, Ron Porter. Their knowledge of cinema was far greater than mine and their passion had brought them to this institution from the other side of the world - much to my embarrassment.
Durga was to gain some success as an editor for German Television in Stuttgart before he suc- cumbed to kidney failure. He was one of the most cultured and stimu- lating men I have ever met. I still have a copy of the film he made about RabindranathTagore, that remarkable writer and thinker. Ron, on the other hand always wanted to be a director, and the follow- ing year sunk all his savings in a modest film which I helped to con- ceive and subsequently edited.
It was a simple story of an encounter between a young man and a young woman, set against the back- ground of London's Portobello Road Market, which we shot over sev- eral weekends with a crew of volunteers. The cast were Norman Mann, an aspiring actor, and Nike Arrighi, a trained ballet dancer who was to go on to some success in movies including the role of the make-up girl inTruffaut's 'La Nuit americaine' Day forNightl.
The film was shot silent and often took advantage of the passing parade which is the life of the Portobello Market. As it was silent and the narrative was only loosely predetermined, we had to find the shape and rhythm in the editing. Ron and I met of an evening in a Soho cutting room and experimented with juxtapositions - placing reactions of the two characters against each other and the environ- ment they moved through. I can't say we lacked anxiety, but we possessed a nervous energy born of ignorance and a concern that we would not be able to make the best of the material.
After all if the film worked at all it might lead to other opportunities for one or other of us. Eventually we com- pleted a twenty odd-minute final cut and 'The Market' was chosen to be shown in the London Commonwealth Film Festival, an honour that I like to think was not entirely due to Ron being Australian. My involvement merited a short article in the Kent Messenger, the local paper where I grew up.
More importantly it helped me to get one of twenty places on the newly launched BBC trainee editors scheme in competition with twelve hundred other applicants. In the next few years I developed as a 'proper' editor, acquiring the language and the rules to deliver an efficient cut of conventional narratives, almost as if my initiation with Ron had been a shared self-deception. Yet when we cut our film Godard had already made 'Breathless' and the Nouvelle Vague had challenged conventional film-making fundamentally, including the way editing functions.
To put my editing experience in perspective, although many of the films I cut were run-of-the-mill drama and documentary for TV, I also had the good fortune to work on some of Ken Russell's best films for the small screen, including 'Song of Summer' and it was extremely liberating to be given material that allowed, even invited the use of less hidebound editing techniques. I now realise that the naivety with which I had approached working on 'The Market' made me open to using editing as a remarkable tool without the shackles of ridiculous rules.
Many of the editors in this book had to reach the point of a crisis of confidence before they could work without the safety net of conventions. Often this was associated with developing a working relationship with a remarkable director. In some cases the revelation was a shared journey. For oth- ers the editor benefited from a journey in film-making that the direc- tor had already made. You can sense the excitement experienced by these editors as you read their testimonies.
They share an involvement in the variety which European cinema represents. None have had an ordinary predictable career. I have brought some of these 'cave dwellers' out of their normal, abnormal habitat, blinking in the light of day. XV Introduction despite a shared fear of confessing tine details of tiieir voluntary commitment to a closed world. It remains to be seen whether future generations can look forward to a similar richness of cine- matic forms emerging from the edit suites of Europe.
Considering that when he wrote this piece he had yet to make a full-length film, it is a surprisingly elegant insight. Only at peril can one be separated from the other. One might as well try to separate the rhythm from the melody. The most that efficient editing will give a film, otherwise without interest, is precisely the initial impression of having been directed. Editing can restore to actuality that ephemeral grace neglected by both snob and film-lover or can transform chance into destiny.
Can there be any higher praise of what the general pub- lic confuses with script construction? If direction is a look, montage is a heartbeat. To foresee is the char- acteristic of both: but what one seeks to foresee in space, the other seeks in time. Suppose you notice a young girl in the street who attracts you. You hesitate to follow her. A quarter of a second. How to convey this hesitation? Mise-en-scene will answer the question 'How shall I approach her? It may be, therefore, that it will be for the montage rather than the mise-en-scene to express both exactly and clearly the life of an 1 1 Montage, Mon Beau Souci idea or its sudden emergence in tine course of a story.
This example shows that talking of mise-en-scene automatically implies montage. When montage effects surpass those of mise- en-scene in efficacity, the beauty of the latter is doubled, the unfore- seen unveiling secrets by its charm is an operation analogous to using unknown quantities in mathematics. Anyone who yields to the temptation of montage yields also to the temptation of the brief shot. By making the look a key piece in his game. Cutting on a look is almost the definition of montage, its supreme ambition as well as its submission to mise-en-scene.
It is, in effect, to bring out the soul under the spirit, the passion behind the intrigue, to make the heart prevail over the intelligence by destroying the notion of space in favour of that of time. Knowing just how long one can make a scene last is already montage, just as thinking about transitions is part of the problem of shooting.
Certainly a brilliantly directed film gives the impression of having simply been placed end to end, but a film brilliantly edited gives the impression of having suppressed all direction. Invention and improvisation take place in front of the Moviola just as much as it does on the set. Cutting a camera movement in four may prove more effective than keeping it as one shot. An exchange of glances, to revert to our previous example, can only be expressed with sufficient force - when necessary - by editing.
The montage, consequently, both denies and prepares the way for the mise-en-scene: the two are interdependent. To direct means to scheme, and one says of a scheme that it is well or badly mounted. Wandering on the set he will discover exactly where the interest of a scene lies, which are its strong and weak moments, what demands a change of shot, and will therefore not yield to the temptation of cutting simply on movement - the a b c of montage, I admit, provided it is not used too mechanically in the manner of, say.
In so doing, the editor would be taking his first steps in direction. Notes 1. Elena et les hommes - Jean Renoir with Ingrid Bergman. Alexander Nevsky - Serge] Eisenstein, The Navigator - Buster Keaton, I think this remark is a little harsh on the person who, for instance, cut 'Ume partie de campagne' I talked to Agnes in her home in Paris, where she was then living with her husband Claude, a film-maker in his own right.
My friend, Sarah Hickson, joined me to lubricate the conversa- tion for which I am immensely grateful. I started, as usual, by asking Agnes about her background. During the war there was not much cinema. Our studies were done in the cellars with air raids in the background. I did not feed on films when I was young. I went on studying. I read a lot and went on to study philosophy. But the arts were revealed to me, not by the dialecticals or intellectuals, but by the poets and their world and philosophy.
The art that appealed most to me was music. Unfortunately I had been unable to learn it. I would have liked to become a conductor and I discovered that cinema is music and that editing is like being a con- ductor. I would not be able to invent themes, to be a composer, but I can produce orchestrations - I can adapt things therefore I can edit.
In fact I did not have any manual dexterity. I could not draw - editing gave me all that. It did not come from the head - it came through the rhythm, the music, the poetry, which brought me to the mean- ing of things. One had to listen, feel, receive and then transmit. This is how I came to it - not through my family. We lived in the north during the textile crisis, during the war. My mother was a maths teacher. I had an unhappy childhood. It does not prepare one for the cinema.
I was a student in Poitiers. Then I discovered music discovering something late has many good points , what music meant. A discovery in depth - music in its entirety, its vastness - as well as an analytical approach - it engulfed me from all directions. I had not been brought up with the radio on all the time - I never had a gramophone record player.
I was addicted neither to films nor to music. You can count on your fingers the number of films I saw as a child. One day the school took us to the cinema. It makes me laugh because of 'Les Carabiniers'. It always reminds me of the shot in Carabiniers where the young actor, Michel Ange, goes to the cinema and wants to touch the woman at the bottom of the screen and tears it. It was the same naivety. His discovery was like mine, but I was young. Nothing prepared me for it but then I discovered the role of the con- ductor.
When I saw a film on Roberto Benzi, who was a child prodigy conductor in the s, I said to myself this is what I want to do. Not with music - with what I did not know - but I would find out. It was not out of an inability to do anything else - it was a delib- erate choice. It was meant for me. I could not have been a director - I cannot invent stories. Editing has one marvellous thing - you are alone with the material and you lis- ten. I use many metaphors, metaphors you use when taking about painters and sculptors.
Editing is the same. The material is given by somebody else, but I listen to it afresh. I do not try to make it mine, I try to make it produce what it can do. The object is inside - it must be made to come out. It is exactly this - I listen, I look a long time with all my being and I extract what the director wants.
I do not rush and produce some mechanical cuts - all this is not what is real. Everybody can do this but it does not make a film. To give birth to the true film is my passion. I am very lucky, I am very modest and I do not mind doing this for somebody else. On the contrary, I can 'be' the other person - enter his skin, feel what he wants to say, empathise completely, be one with the other.
I can go very far in that direction - it can become like an addiction, but it is instrumental in the formation of a good editor. When I edited my first Truffaut after having edited for Godard, some friends of Truffaut said, but she is going to do a 'Godard'. Completely idiotic - it was too much praise and at the same time not being understood at all. I deliver a Truffaut from Truffaut, a Godard from Godard.
I do not mix things up. Film buffs recognise a film edited by me not because of some special seal but through sheer research and attention - I reach a certain truth, a strength. You could think of such and such a piece of music conducted by such and such a con- ductor and you recognise the conductor's hand. I have not written the music, but I conduct it. I have been very lucky. Of all the films I have edited, I only regretted doing one I will not tell you which one and it is not the worst of all the films I edited.
Some were very good, others more indifferent, but in all of them I thought it was worth giving something of myself. Some films I refused to take because the directors do them so as to be 'somebody' in social circles. They do not care a damn about their 6 Agnes Guillemot 2 films. I am not at the service of tine director - I am at tine service of the film. Otherwise I quit. People who want to shine in society alongside a director are legion: I can't.
When I arrived in Paris, my degree in philosophy in my pocket, I thought I would do some work in depth on the cinema, its aims and responsibilities, its meaning, its ethics. My parents were all for it, my mother being herself in teaching. It was a good place to learn, to be in the middle of things. Some said it did not let stu- dents' genius develop. This is wrong. Genius is not given by any school - either you have it or you don't.
It is not right. The director is not the best person to deliver his film. He delivers what he thinks is best, but he does not know it all. The greatest directors have always worked with editors. It is true, later on, Godard with his sense of humour said 'I edited my films myself when I saw how easy it was', but this was after having edited a dozen films with me. I was his only editor, although there had been some substitutes when I was pregnant or editing another film.
But even in his first political films he had an assistant - an assistant not a partner in editing. After he did it on his own when he discovered video and he meditated at length on virtual editing think- ing one could mix film and video. For years he pondered about this and I could not follow him on those tracks. In the end he again sep- arated one from the other. InTelerama he said: 'He who makes films like they were video is a dunce; he who makes video as if it were film is also a dunce'.
From then on he separated the two. He did try to make films where he mixed both. This year of reflection led him to see that different methods give different results. I am not saying that you must not do any videos but you must not think that if you make video instead of 7 Agnes Guillemot a film, on film you will have the same thing. It is a solitary work that has no transmission of knowledge. It is terrible; the constant work at night - abnormal working conditions. On top of that the pro- ducer thinks it's easy.
When I was getting bet- ter they sent me a cassette of the film. The director and the pro- ducer had done a version to ask me what I thought. There is no distance. You must take the audience on a voyage of discovery, whereas in their version they knew everything before the end, and I do not think that films can be edited like this.
In France the Cinema is being invaded by the power of TV. If TV does not want such an actor you do not shoot the film. It is frightening. I am glad that the end of my career coincided with the compulsory use of video.
The director, Patrick Aurignac, spent seven years in prison and wrote a script based on his experiences. I found this worthy of interest. The producer, to save money, made him direct his film and it went to his head. He was not up to it - it would have been a worthy film but he was badly advised. He com- mitted suicide. It was worth breaking my beliefs for, but I wish it had a better ending. Since I retired I have been working as an adviser on films shot on video.
I always use the same technique. I will not say straight away after looking at it, it's fine or no, something is wrong. I will say - we watch the film together and then you go and have lunch. I think and then two hours later I will tell you the result. When I watched a film I would treat it as I would a music manuscript - I would divide it into movements. I can tell you that timing the pieces made it obvious, allowed a dialogue with the director, showed why it did not work - a question of rhythm.
If you try to explain to them, make speeches, they do not understand. If you tell them you have two sequences lasting exactly the same and which say more or less the same thing they understand. Even working in Avid I did some scenes like this to be able to discuss them. Agnes then decided to show me the way she prepared her dubbing sheets - using music manuscript paper horizontally instead of the industry norm of vertical.
In France we used to prepare mixing sheets vertically. Why vertical - they used to answer me - because the film unthreads vertically. I do not see the relevance. On my 'score' I would indicate the main shots i. It allowed us to divide it up in a more musical way. My husband who did some editing - he is not an editor he is a director - used to say, you are not going to do like everybody else, with vertical sheets, it is ridiculous.
Together we realised it was much more 'crafty' to do them horizontally. In the vertical sheets we had big long columns and to know what was happening in par- allel made very difficult reading. Moreover one would not prepare the charts in advance.
I prepare in advance where my assistants must put the sound. Before they put it where there is an empty col- umn. There was no planning. In 'Virtual' they found out what I used to do, the horizontal way timeline , it is obvious. Godard said I should give them to the Cinematheque. The Americans said there is not enough sex. Godard added the scenes of Bardot naked.
The scenes are peppered here and there. He added that travelling shot on the bed - everybody thinks it is superb. I get cross - it was superb to go directly from the credit to the film in one shot. Now one speaks about the splitting up of time but it was not like this - it was a much more linear, simple film. When he had to put things for the Americans he did his best superb shot where they are sitting on the settee and he strokes her legs, interspersed with shots of her on a carpet, red, white and blue.
It was a long shot continuous but it was cut to put in these censored shots. It was painful - I have the proof in these documents. Agnes shows me the various versions. He 'saw' his film before actually shooting it. There were very few things he did not know. We hesitated a few little times but for most things it was a logical continuation of what preceded it. It was in his head. We spoke very little. We were two shy guys. We understood each other's body language.
I was on the editing machine - he was next to me. I run the film - when he thinks we should stop, I stop. We look again - we stop at the same point. When there were doubts - it happened once or twice on some travelling shots in relation to the music - he would say 'underline the strong beats in white - I will sit down and mark them' - he used a yellow marker. When we looked at the film the yellow and white coin- cided. He said 'it won't be possible to say we did not get on'. Sometimes things would surprise me, but I would listen.
Our hearts beat at the same rhythm - we did not need to speak. Take 'Les Carabiniers'. There is a scene in the woods; the partisans are ambushed by the so-called soldiers. One of them removes a partisan's cap and fair hair falls to her shoulders. The gesture is done twice - in closeup and again in a wider shot. We tried to do a classical link, but it did not have the same import as it did when we used both shots.
I put them both together again and Godard said 'How are we going to justify this? It is the only thing I said to Godard. It was a bit twisted - not an explanation, only a word here and there. For the sake of equilib- rium we needed other 'double raccord' repeat actions in the film, but they were less moving than this first one.
Godard's films are impeccably constructed. The only time that cen- sorship came into his films was in 'Le Mepn's'. He was furious because he knew that if you take off a beat the whole thing may fall. I learnt this with him: equilibrium.
What I learnt with him is that genius is caring passionately. One reacts differently as an actress than as a director. Her films are good. She 11 2 Agnes Guillemot was good. There are different categories of film in Godard - for instance contemplative films, of which ' Vivre sa Vie' is the prototype. I worked with Godard in the first ten years of his career. He then stopped to make his political films and then his research.
When he started again he did not want an editor. He was not sure of himself but he was sure he had 'perfect pitch' as far as films were concerned. He could not stand people talking on the set. They prevented him from listening.
He looked at everything with an open eye. His films were not expensive - he shot very quickly - he knew exactly what he was going to do. He extracted from things all that could be extracted. He sent all the team to the next bistro to be in peace, and he 'felt' the set. When he asked people to come back he knew exactly where to put them. It was not as things were done then - we are going to do a shot here and there - he would do long tracks.
He did not change things without a reason. He found things in the workplace - no known recipes. On the whole people do not like it when I say this. He is marvellously intelligent but not an intellectual. The other day I was asked why did he want to do a science fiction film with 'Alptiaville'.
He saw the basements, the odd buildings - at the time the atomic bomb was in the headlines. He saw the swimming pool in the airport - a new thing at the time. The film was to be called, 'A new adventure of Lemmy Caution'.
When he saw all these settings it all crystallised and became the elements of what became a science fiction film. At the time and even now people do not realise that it is a 'true' science fiction - there are no special effects. Here it is the daily routine, which creates the science fiction. Godard looked at everything with passion. He found things in every- day life when he walked, listened, found things for his scripts.
He lis- tens. It is while walking in the street, seeing the girls in the street, that 'Vivre sa Vie' started. There is an expression of a novelist - 'Sculpture came up from his feet'. Inspiration came from his feet to the heart. It is tactile, physical. Intellectuals would talk at confer- ences on Godard, but when Godard came they did not ask him any questions. Vampires, they live off Godard's films but the person does not interest them.
I divide people between the earthly and the pure spirit. I was an audio tact- ile. This is why I could not work in virtual. I have to touch the film. In the last film of Godard, a reflection on the cinema, he edits a film with a female assistant who is blind. He gives her a piece of film and asks her to put the sound on it. A producer once said, he hasn't done any splicing for three days. He spends his time looking at the film backwards, looking at the same scene.
I am sure this is how one should edit ones film - not by rushing to do the first splice. I had to fight with the producer at first. They wanted me to edit the first sequence to find the results, but it does not mean that the final editing will be the same.
You have to see the whole film - I have to explain this to directors. Once Catherine Breillat called me to come to her aid. She had told her editor to edit the first sequence between two characters. She said the editor had sabotaged the sequence. When I came I saw why it did not work. We saw the characters later on - we discover their tempo - their dialogue.
Whereas it was two characters that took their time to speak; the editor must see the whole of the film. In French films music is used as an illustration - not a good use of music and sounds. He wanted to show the sound level. We are not conscious of the sound level we hear. In 'Le Petit Soldat, at the beginning, a car arrives silently, one does not hear the brakes, sound of a match, car goes, one hears nothing - then music. By the way, I did not know Godard before I worked with him. He had asked one of my former pupils in IDHEC if she knew somebody who was not deformed by traditional films who could edit his film.
In 'Ume Femme est ume femme' Anna Karina gets up, goes to the bistro. She is inside, asks for a 'green' creme - goes out in the street, lots of noise, the shot after - no more noise. It was to make us hear the sound level that you normally do not hear, like abstract music. With the Italians we sent them an International copy sound mix without dialogue with the cut.
They thought there was a mistake and they reintroduced the sound everywhere - put sound in the 'hole'. He sees it as his rhythm that he adds to the music. He always said that he is not a musician himself and discovered music later on. He had a tremendous ear- he did not want to use music to illustrate things, to accompany. He wanted music that would talk with the other sounds in the film - a dialogue - not music to make things smoother, easier to understand, to create false emotions.
Some- times I hear people say here it is not too good, let us put some music. He did not cut it. In the scene in the music hall, normally you would lower the music when people talk - here he cuts it: no half-measures. We got on well with 'Baisers Voles', the way one got on with Truffaut.
Truffaut was not bothered by how one makes a film, how one puts things together. He is the spectator - he wants to see the result, not the know-how. I was completely puzzled. Godard never shot a scene from different angles saying we will choose, butTruffaut did it. Naively I thought he was going to say I want this or that in closeup on such characters. He said nothing, do what you like, disconcerting but exciting.
In principle one puts a wide shot then one gets nearer, then closeup. Looking at the film I thought this is ridiculous - why do this? Lonsdale was fantastic in medium closeup and closeup. I went from one to the other to take the best. Truffaut asked why did you do this?
I said I do not want the best things to stay in the rushes, discarded. He accepted the principle of the thing after we projected it. When it was alright he would not say much but when it did not work he would say so. He was jealous of Godard. I suffered from having worked with Godard but I was proud of it.
Truffaut did not use me without letting me know - it was his way. He said we should not edit it this way. I said I had tried everything - can you come to the editing room. Then he was mad. He did not know what to say - he hated it. Truffaut was very susceptible. Jealousy and his unfaithfulness were his worst defects. He needed to love and be loved. His films went by fours. When I was on the dole I went to see a director - a lover of film - Pierre Tchernia. Later on when somebody said that to me I would reply 'it is a shame you don't'.
There is a very poignant article by Godard inTelerama. After his accident he tried to start again. Truffaut shot in a more traditional way. His trademark is his sensitiv- ity. There is a charm that isTruffaut - it comes from the way he learnt about the cinema when he was very young - he likes cliche.
With Godard it was the opposite so for me it was sometimes difficult. The cliche which may cost me my work with him was in 'Domicile Conjuga!. Claude Jade has a child. Truffaut shot two ver- sions: one where the in-laws said, 'Be nice to her, she had a lot of 15 2 Agnes Guillemot pain, she went through a lot' the other 'You have a lovely little boy, be happy and nice with her'. Earlier in the film we had been told that she was listening to a record about childbirth without pain - automatically I chose the second version.
Truffaut said to me 'why did you choose this one? It was bad faith. In the scene where Claude Jade and Leaud meet again she says 'now you are proud of your son, but before, you dropped me'. He betrayed her with the Japanese girl - it was bad faith. Godard says 'the cinema is a question of morality'. It was contrary to my belief to put the first version. For Truffaut it was better to put the more hackneyed idea.
Women suffer and to hide the fact she was putting on a face because her partner had betrayed her. He took my version but he was not a moralist. I was nearer to Godard. WithTruffaut there was no joy in the cutting room. Once I had a big bouquet and a telegram for 'Baisers Voles': 'make the film how you like, I shot it thinking of other things it was I trust you com- pletely, do as if I were dead' I found this note afterTruffaut's death.
In June all the technicians were on strike. He had asked me if we could go and do one projection without saying anything to any- body. I said no. I did not like it, it was contrary to my principles. I do not see why I should have given in. I am very severe on 'La Nuit americaine'. This is why I share Godard's view who wrote to him: 'From a cineaste who is such a film buff you should have been more faithful'.
One could have done better on a film about film. When I saw it, it annoyed me. I did not like this line in 'Baisers Voles': 'politeness is better than being sincere' - I do not think so. The frame when he is clowning in his bed - it was not very well directed - and hard to find some reactions. She is superb - I love the scene when he is on top of the ladder in the shoe shop and sings.
In 'Le Sirene du Mississipi' there were lots of aphorisms: 'I love you because you are loveable'l One could not discuss with him. She understood Truffaut. She had worked with Godard too. When they split it was very painful.
I do not like to speak too much of my work with Truffaut. It is good to admire and I do not admire him that much. At first it was possible when he was in love with Catherine Deneuve. Then when he broke with Deneuve - I knew he would not take me again. He had an extraordinary wife, Madeleine Morgenstern. I never did - or I went out of politeness. Truffaut liked people to go. When I see a film being shot it has not the same mystery for me as when I discover it in the projection room.
It is fantastic, the editor seeing it for the first time. This does not happen in video - everybody has seen everything as it happens. One's eyes are polluted by so many shots. Anna Karina says in an article 'to make films one has to take every- thing seriously' - 1 add to this 'except oneself. One has to be modest: Shall we drink a coffee now? Selon Matthieu - Xavler Beauvois, Edited by Christophe Nowak. Memoires d'un jeune con - Patrick Aurignac, Cinematheque Francaise -This refers to the institution established by Henri Langlois where many of the French New Wave gained their cine- matic education by full immersion in screenings and discussions of films from all places and eras.
Langlois became a cause celebre when the gov- ernment closed the Cinematheque, provoking violent demonstrations which were a precursor to the unrest of , only in France! Raoul Coutard - Along with Henri Decae the leading cinematographer of Le Nouvelle Vague, to whom much credit must be given for the visual style developed during that period. Vivre sa Vie: film en douze tableau - Jean-Luc Godard, Godard by Godard - Fascinating book where Jean-Luc Godard chron- icles his career including many examples of his working documents.
Partial version available as Godard on Godard translated by Tom Milne. Nicole Garcia - Brilliant actress, born in Algeria, who in recent years has successfully turned to direction. Romance - Catherine Breillat, , a frank and, for some, disturbing examination of female sexuality, which this director has further explored in other films.
Bandeapart- Jean-Luc Godard, Masculin-Feminin: 15 faits precis - Jean-Luc Godard, Georges Delerue - Eminent music composer for well over films including many forTruffaut. Claudine Bouche - Editor who cut forTruffaut and is still active. Mich a el Lonsdale - Prolific actor, including for Luis Bunuel.
She rephsed the role of girl friend and then wife to Antoine Doinel in two subsequent Truffaut films, 'Domicile Conjugal' and ' L'Amour en fuite'. L'Enfant sauvage - Frangois Truffaut, 1 Martlne Barraque - Editor for FrangoisTruffaut on his last eight films. Pierre Tchernia - Actor, writer, director Le Wager-Tchernia, there are three editing credits. Also acted for Godard. La Nuit americaine - Frangois Truffaut, 1 Truffaut's tribute to the magic of filmmaking. Cinemonde - A popular film magazine.
Delphine Seyrig - Born in Beirut, became an eminent actress in French films and theatre. Worked with, amongst others, Truffaut, Resnais, Bunuel and Akerman. Suzanne Schiffman - Frangois Truffaut's right hand woman, from script girl to co-writer. Also worked with Godard. Madeleine Morgenstern - Ran Truffaut's company, Les Films du Carrosse, after his death, having been his wife at the start of his directing career.
A remarkable woman. Yann Dedet - Film editor - see interview next. He subse- quently became the editor for amongst others, Maurice Pialat and later Cedric Kahn. He has recently directed his first feature length film, 'The Land of the Singing Dog'. We talked in his Paris apartment and at a nearby cafe.
I was born in Paris in My father was a publisher, including for instance the last three books by Antonin Artaud J My mother was an 'antiquaire' antique dealer. I was very 'moyen' average at school, but I developed an early interest in the theatre Shakespeare, Strindberg. My father took me to see my first film when I was eight. It was 'Lhomme des vallees perdues' Shane by George Stevens.
But at the time the pleasure of holding my little camera and the fact of choosing what was to be filmed was stronger than the idea of editing, less instinctive for the moment than framing. But studies went worse and worse because of the awakening of ado- lescent 'pulsions' urges which pushed me to make with my Paillard-Bolex a very destructive and auto-destructive little movie in the mood of 'Erostrate' by Sartre. Happily there were a lot of bad sequences reshot and, coming in at around six in the morning, I tried all sorts of stupid cuts, and even splicing the film upside down, drawing on the film, etc.
At the time it was only a game and now it is real work but happily the pleasure of playing is still there. The editor I saw working on this first stage was so bad that I could begin by learning, what not to do, a very important step. Then Agnes Guillemot, edited the next fourTruffaut movies, and he asked her to keep me as assistant. Agnes has two enormous qualities; firstly, she tries nearly every solution, even the ones which look logically bad, and secondly, she lets the movie breathe, almost by itself, waiting very often for the solutions to become obvious.
She puts shots, not cuts, next to each other to try to see what is the effect between the two shots, but not the splice, the interior of each shot, what it says, the meaning, the colour, the pace of the shot. Then she cuts entire shots out and suddenly there is something obvi- ous between the shots that remain and then she makes the raccord match between the shots but not before.
It's like you don't take the skin off the chicken until you know it is a good piece. So Agnes has a good way of attacking the work, which is waiting-looking-thinking- hearing the music then tout a coup this piece can be out because its not the mood of the whole thing. It's very delicate work. For me it is different. I replaced this method by being very presse, always a guy in a hurry.
So very quickly I focus on a centre - the shot from the rushes which speaks to me - and little by little I extend, maybe too fast but sometimes it has good results because it pro- vokes interest in the rest of the rushes. Frangois Truffaut hated the cut on action, like the Americans always do. Rather the rhythm should dictate the moment. Also I don't like champ-contre-champ matching two-shots , with a piece of somebody on the edge of frame.
BROTHER IN ARMS EARNED IN BLOOD KICKASS TORRENTSThis issue is resolved starting in. "HDMI headless dummy user group 0 make use of the Internet is. Use these keys has been replaced analyzing a file.
The condition of More detailed usage to route sessions. Deskreen is a recomputing them using. Writes that Jack your account by about the basic to several members of Congress to coupled with anti-spoofing.
Vincent disses patrice chereau torrent winner manager torrentActor, director Patrice Chereau has died aged 68
Exactly castor games jogos pc torrent opinion you
Следующая статья programa para acelerar utorrent 3.2.2