A director's diary

So, here I am without a second actor, but I will get one. Let's leave it at that.

So, James and I started the day with a warm-up, which was dull and we chatted most of the way through it.
We then went through the piece once and, even though I promised that I would not interrupt, I interrupted after 30 seconds. So we took it apart without ever having seen it. However, I was not that worried about it and I really needed the time to reaquaint myself with the text. As we broke the text down into little "chapters", we chatted about who this man is, what he is doing there and his relationship with the "malevolent demon" is. I am very clear on the point that this man has no history and no experience, as he has only come into existence at the moment that he is flung onto the stage.
Chapters go like this:
1) The flinging
2) The sitting under the tree and the scissors
3) The Water and the boxes
4) The suicide section
5) The flinging and end

Each of these has a distinct pace and energy that tends to change between, and sometimes within, chapters. Our job is to find the pace so that it is not rushed and it is not too slow (making it unbelievably boring). Right now, James is adding pauses in completely random places, which suggests to me that he hasn't figured out what he is doing and why. Which is why I asked him to do it with whatever words come to him. This worked much better and we ended up with a much sharper view of what is going on. Now what needs to be done is to retranslate the words into physical movement and retain the expressiveness that was in the language.
I sent him home to find the meaning in the pauses, as Beckett write about "he reflects" and "he does not move", which are two completely differently motivated actions, and the audience needs to be able to see that. When Beckett says "he reflects", he means it, so we need to find a way of getting across the thoughts to the audience.
So that's for working on next.

A major reason I have never explored opera fully in a directorial way is that I am afraid, almost pathologically, of dance. I do not dance personally and it is a medium that I do not understand at all and am therefore loathe to use it in a production. Of course, there are choreographers that help in many ways, and I have done a very successful production in which I have said to the choreographer "Here. Music. Go." but I may not always be so lucky. Furthermore, the choreographer cannot be expected to block the entire show and there are many moments, especially in musicals, where something dance-like is required, but not a full on choreography job.
Mostly, I worry that I am unable to see movement opportunities and necessities when they arise. I would be quite happy blocking a scene with walk-abouts without ever realising the full potential. It feels like there is simply a tool missing in my bag of tricks.
So, what to do? The easy way out is finding a brilliant choreographer and hanging onto them for dear life. But this, of course, is both difficult to acheive, and risky. I am therefore going to think about this some more and see how my scene works in the final project. Maybe I will need Sheila to choreograph, maybe not. Most of all, I have seen actors take initiative over movement, so maybe that will be alright. If I get truly unstuck, it will be a sign that the time has come to change. Although, arguably, I sing and act, so I have two out of three, and what more do they want?

I have been giving a lot of thought to the concept of adapting and modernising Opera. Obviously, the purists want everything to remain as it was, but the role of opera has changed and therefore, so must the artistic expression of it.
In Bel Canto, it was absolutely fine to just stand at the front and deliver your song, but now we see Opera as a dramatic form, so it can't be acceptable for the director's role to be simply one of tweaking and changing little things to make the songs more fun to look at. It therefore follows that the stories can be updated to make them "relevant", not in the sense of dumbing things down, but in the sense that, as the audiences of the 17th century found it easiest to understand the basic message through Gods and heroes, so we have different methods today of telling the same story. Therefore, a story of love and loss and a commentary about how women can't win out (like in Carmen) can be told either by making her a factory worker or a stripper, or whatever. Her occupation is not the major plot point, but rather it is her character that makes her and breaks her.
The major problem is the libretto. Music is the language of emotions, emphases and thought. Words are the language of detail. The music can tell the same story and communicate the same message regardless of what time or place the opera is set in. It is the libretto that pins it down to a time or place. It is very easy to, initially, condemn the libretto to the flames and rewrite it based on the minutaie that are of interest to the director and designer. However, it is not that simple. Librettists in the past were chosen because they made music from the words they wrote, namely that the music and libretto complimented each other. This is why operas are still mainly performed with the original, untranslated libretto. By changing the words you run the risk of changing the essetial nature of the piece. Nevertheless, the ENO runs year on year very successfully, and I would argue that, if you are translating into English, you have already bastardised the form, so you may as well change the details to suit what you are trying to achieve. This is still a daunting task for any librettist, as you still need to go back to the original, to try to salvage the phonological tone and, as importantly, the subtext and the message.
So, to continue with the theme of Carmen, I see no reason why one could not update the story so that Carmen is, in fact, a pole dancer (who will not let men touch her outside of her job) and Estimillio can be an A-list porn star, whose porn name is "Toreador" or "bullfighter". After all, we are talking about a story in which this minor celebrity is boasting about his "bullfighting" skills and about a woman who is flirtatious and likes attention but nevertheless has high self-respect. Obviously, the analogy only works so far and some bits would require a lot of attention to adapt, but, overall, I think it's possible.
More controversially, I also don't believe that the libretto is sacred or that someone who has been dead for 200 years should have any say in directorial decisions. People who believe they know what the "original intentions" would have been are presumptious and ignorant. I even would go so far as to say that the music can be ammended, but only with extreme respect and care, as that is where the art truly lies.

Today was mostly a lecture on the history of opera, although several interesting things did come up.
First there was a discussion about our thoughts about what we saw yesterday, in which it turned out that nobody except me liked La Belle Helene. Now, I admit it isn’t high drama and is quite shallow, all told, but as entertainment, it was amusing. “Could have been funnier” was the verdict. I am worried that I just have awful taste. The trick in producing a successful opera or musical (and, in fact, any piece of theatre) is to work out what the audience will enjoy seeing. If I am not capable of doing that, I will simply produce flops. Right now, opera is fairly elitist, because it bores the average theatre-goer who doesn’t understand it. Therefore, I have to think like an elitist in order to get something they will like.
The history of the Opera seemed to be dominated by Italy and seemed to stop in 1850. I do wonder what happened to the last 150 years and continue to wonder if this is opera’s problem. It seems to be stuck in a time that has moved on and no longer exists. More worrying, even, is that this seems to be the direction that musicals are heading in, with the advent of the age of the revivals. I am quite keen, right now, to work on new musicals, because I worry that they will die out if we do not continue to explore and push the boundaries of the art form. Already, I am restricted, in my final project, to doing a scene from a “Classical American Musican”, which does not seem to include anything written after 1980. But what about William Finn, Stephen Schwartz, Jason Robert Brown? As a director, I think it is, at least partially, my responsibility to stop opera and musicals from coming to a complete standstill.
However, having said that, we watched a film with Peter Sellars being interviewed about his work and talking almost exclusively about making Operas political. That’s not modern and interesting, it is simply self indulgent. I suppose the bigger the director, the more freedom of interpretation they have, but there is a point at which a director begins to exploit a work for their own ends. If you want to direct an opera set in the Gulf War, why not commission one?

Coming from a background in musicals and knowing very little about opera, it was a steep learning curve for me that, on the first day, we went to see an opera (operetta), went for a talk about one and were introduced to three of our tutors, most of whom deal mainly with opera.
My aims for this course are to be:
1. Expand my knowledge base so that I am as competent in opera as I am in musicals
2. Learn techniques for directing both opera and musicals, although musicals are still my main area of interest
3. Understand better the collaborative techniques involved in musical theatre.
4. Explore new forms of musical theatre that are neither opera nor musical, for example music hall, circus, etc.

I have no idea whether I will be able to achieve all of these through the course, but I will do my best and read the reading list as well as taking part in the seminars and practical work.

Back to the first day.
After introducing one another and chatting a little bit about musicals and opera, we headed down to the Coliseum to see the ENO dress rehearsing La Belle Helene. My first impressions were that this was not a standard opera for several reasons
1. It was sung in English, despite being written in French
2. The cast seemed to be laughing at the opera and at themselves
3. The setting was pseudo-classical, meaning that the idea of classical Greece was bastardised to reflect the comedy and the designer’s taste.
4. There were changes to the book to add in small jokes of their own.

On the other hand, the singing was still operatic, there was still a ballet before each act and there were still surtitles, proving that, regardless of what language they are singing in, opera singers are incomprehensible.
I assume that in opera, the set design and technical aspects are fair game and each production can reinvent to their heart’s content. What I did not realise was that the same applied to the book. Very little, I suspect, is allowed to be changed in the score itself, but, obviously, the book is of minor importance in the opera, although, I noticed, it seems to be the major plot driving device.
I was struck by how similar this operetta was to two other music theatre forms: Classical Musicals, such as Singin’ in the Rain, and pantomime. In detail, especially this production, it was more similar to the latter, but the composition of the book and score itself was quite similar to a classical musical model, i.e. Sing, tell the story in prose, sing again, do a little bridge, sing, talk some more, sing, etc. You even had the introductory chords like in old style musicals, to signify that a song was about to begin.
I thoroughly enjoyed watching La Belle Helene, even though it was overblown and shallow, or perhaps exactly for these reasons. Because it is not representative of opera, it is light and easy to digest. Luckily, having been exposed to this now, I think I am ready to face something more serious. As musicals can be both fun and deep, so, I suspect, can opera. I would, in fact, like to see something where the depth of emotion runs deeper than women in bikinis.
This is why it was nice to see the contrast of the Insight evening at the ROH, where we heard about Gotterdammerung, the last of Wagner’s operas in the Ring Cycle. Knowing absolutely nothing about Wagner or the Ring Cycle meant that I had to piece together the story from what was being said. This opera is truly epic, bringing together Gods, heroes and villains. The most interesting part, even though it felt like we were watching a couple in bed, was the demonstration of a short rehearsal with a Mezzo, showing what exactly a director does. My impression was that it is very similar to the director/dictator, with not much time for anything other than blocking. To be fair to the director, when you have 5 hours of music to get through and only six weeks in which to do it, you need to go as fast as possible. However, it felt almost like a film set, where the director has time only to tell the actors where to move and which way to turn.
I have heard rumours that opera singers are not actors and have no idea how to be on stage, but experienced singers surely are able to understand the process that a director wants them to embark upon? If so, then the director should be able to ask a singer/actor for their ideas and input on the character and therefore make it into a more collaborative project. I understand that it is difficult to try to find deeper meaning in La Belle Helene (which is probably why they were making light of it), but in Gotterdammerung, where the characters are so well developed and have a history, it should be easy.

The question of how a director of film works with his/her actors was one that I was afraid to ask at the beginning of the course, just in case it had such a simple and straightforward answer that I would feel silly for asking it.  What I found out was that there is no easy answer and, in fact, there may not be one at all. 

In terms of the acting experience, film could not be more different than the stage: plays have continuity, films are shot out of sequence.  In plays, when an actor runs, he runs with a character for two hours, whereas in film it could be no more than thirty seconds.  On stage, an actor needs to reinvent the character every night, on film they simply do it again and again until it is right (or how the director wants it).  The stage is a large space, where the actor needs to play to the back rows, but on film, every facial twitch will be caught by the camera, but only if the camera is pointed at the twitch and not at the actor’s feet at the time.  All told, there is very little in the job description of a film actor that matches that of a theatre actor.  So how does a director deal with that?

Stanislavsky and his followers, and many schools that train actors today, focus on the inner life of a character, trying to get to grips with the motivation, the psychology of the “real person” on the page.  In theatre rehearsals, this process takes weeks, even months, to actualise, a step-by-step development, with the director as facilitator.  Due to time and money constraints, scenes in film are shot both out of sequence and in single, very short takes.  Often the actors do not have the luxury of any rehearsal period and have simply learnt their lines and must face the camera and deliver them with the same conviction that a theatre actor has after extensive work with a director.

This idea floored me.  I could not imagine being the kind of director who worked more with cameras than with actors.  This, to me, suggests a director/dictator, or simply an absent director, who is not giving the actors (who have feelings) the support they need, in favour of the cameras (who don’t).  Shooting in multi-camera was very slightly easier on the actors, because they at least have continuity and don’t have to worry about chopping up the scene.  However, in my scene, as soon as I had run through the script with the actors a few times and gone up to the gallery, I felt so distanced from the actors that I did not feel as if I would have been able to change their performances or give them notes from that moment on.  At that point, what I had to work with was the vision mixer, the camera operators and the floor manager.  The isolation was intense, and I would not choose to work this way again, because, I believe, the first step in being able to work with actors on film is to be able to, at least, be in the same space as them.

Assuming you do have the luxury of being able to work with actors between takes, or before the start of shooting, the only rehearsal you can do with them is very rudimentary.  The likelihood of touching on psychology or inner motives is slight, as it is more important for the actors to know where to stand, when to move and where the camera will be pointing when.  Solutions?  You can attack it two ways.  The first is to do so much work yourself into the character’s journey that you can simply dictate to the actors, in as few words as possible, what it is you want from them.  This, of course, sacrifices any input the actor might have into his/her character, but, as I have mentioned, film is a very different creature to stage, and concessions must be made.  The other approach is to ask the actor to do as much preparation as they possibly can on their character before ever arriving on set.  Then the opposite problem applies, namely a relinquishing of all directorial control over the process to the actors.  In this case, the director can only pray that the actor’s vision matches their own and, if not, be prepared to allow it anyway.

The above is a problem that presents itself both in single-camera and multi-camera work, but the problem of continuity is mostly a single-camera problem, so one that I did not encounter, but considered nonetheless.  The challenge to the actor is compounded by having to come into a part with little coaching and then have to perform out of sequence and in small segments.  One of the most important jobs the director has at this point is to remember the emotional journey of the character and know how the take in question corresponds.  The actor, by the same token, has to be prepared with the character’s emotional journey without any need for lengthy preparation or lead-ins.  Luckily, this is the actor’s craft, because, as a director, I fail to understand how actors can play a role convincingly or with any degree of reality in 30 second segments.  I know it is possible, but I have not seen the process first hand, so I suppose I still have much to learn.

One thing, at least, that makes the director’s job easier, is that, on film, a director is not obliged to accept all the takes of a scene, unlike in the theatre where the audience has seen the performance as soon as it is given.  Another method that directors in film use to get the performance they want from the actors is to shoot as many takes as necessary, until there is one that the director considers satisfactory.  In my scene, I did not have the luxury of many takes, as we were running out of time, so I ended up with two takes, neither of which I was happy with, mostly for technical reasons.  Multi-camera shoots, of course, are more difficult, as the scene is shot as a whole and therefore it is, to all intents and purposes, like giving a performance, or, at least, like a dress rehearsal, where, if it all goes wrong, there can be another try.

My final project:  Fallen Angels by Noel Coward

 

I believe that Noel Coward makes for good cinema, because of it’s propensity to close ups, and the drawing room setup makes it easy to achieve on multicam.  This was the premise that I was working on when I decided to use Fallen Angels for my final project.  This relatively little known play is based around two women who both had an affair with the same man when they were young but are now married to two men who are beginning to bore them.  When the man from their past threatens to return, they panic, bicker between themselves and end up succumbing, despite their best efforts.  The scene I chose was in Act II where the two women are discussing their pasts and get progressively more drunk and abusive at each other. 

Because the scene was too long, I had to make some cuts, but the scene turned out to be still too long, so that I did not have time to finish filming it.  I also had to cut out the part of the maid so that the scene would remain a two-hander.

 

Camera Planning

 

As before with the other two camera plans, I found that the only way to do the camera plan was to sit down and write it according to the picture in my head.  I still can’t figure out a more scientific way than working backwards, namely pretending you are watching the film and seeing where the camera is according to what you see in the cinema in your head.  The only problem with this method is that I am not experienced enough at the moment to know when certain things are not going to work except by seeing them realised.  Consequently, I designed some shots that were not going to work, such as one in which a camera had to move too fast for the operator to handle, one which crossed the line and one that was too similar to the previous shot to be a clean cut.  The only way to stop these things from happening, I think, is to learn from my mistakes and hope that, through experience, I will be able to spot the shots that will not work before we arrive at the filming stage.

Overall, though, I was very happy with the camera plan I made, although the first draft was overcomplicated and I needed to simplify.  As a rule, then, I would probably recommend starting with the vision and then simplifying until it resembles something that camera operators can manage.

In my camera planning, I was going for a soap opera feel, one which cuts from close shots to room shots and back to close ups.  The reasoning is that this particular scene is melodramatic to the point of resembling a soap opera, so I wanted my camera work to reflect that.  Also, the dialogue often goes very fast, so I did not want to simply cut back and forth between speakers (although there was a little of that) but rather stay on one actress or another and film the reaction shots as much as the talking shots.  In retrospect, I probably underutilised the shots that snapped back and forth and could have used more of that, as it turned out to be effective, rather than dizzying, which was my worry.

 

The set, costumes and props

 

By choosing a 1920s play and setting it in the correct time (as you must do with Noel Coward) I created a problem for myself in terms of set and costumes.  After spending a couple of hours in the props store of the university, I realised that there was nothing that was very suitable for what I wanted to do, and the most important bit of furniture for me, a chaise longue, was going to have to be replaced by a ratty armchair.  This caused me to have to change my camera plan, as I had planned some shots over Julia’s feet that now would have to be over her shoulder, creating a slightly different effect, and one I found much less satisfying.  The other pieces of set were less difficult to manage, although none of them was really what I wanted.  On a real set, of course, every prop and piece of furniture would be as required, but for the purposes of this project, the key word was compromise.  I did manage to get some gratifying food scraps on the plates I used, to create the effect of the end of dinner, and the first shot, with a close up of the table with the empty glasses, the champagne bottle, the cigarette case and the dirty plates was perfect to help set the scene.  That shot also helped to cover up the subsequent inadequacies of the armchair and sofa.

As far as costumes were concerned, I spoke to the actresses a week before shooting and they came in with dresses that were perfect for what we needed and actually complemented each other very well.  I had asked them to bring evening gowns and any jewellery they had which would look as if they could be from the twenties.  Bearing in mind that my set was not perfect, I did not mind if the costumes were the same.  The only thing that was important was from the actresses not to be too cold in the studio, as I had spent the previous week in the sound box with gloves on!  It worked out well, though, as they only changed into their dresses after we had finished acting rehearsals and went on to camera rehearsals.  Overall, I was very pleased with the set and costumes, and the problems with the arm chair were less challenging than I expected, once I had amended the camera plan.

 

Rehearsal and Filming

 

My worries on the day of filming were manifold and I was quite nervous about my piece.  My main concerns were:

 

1. That I would not establish a good rapport with the actors and I would not be capable of working with them effectively
2. That my camera plan would be unsuitable and I would have to replan everything that I had done
3. That I would not be able to multitask well enough to keep an eye on the shots, the actors and all the other technical aspects
4. That I would not be astute enough to spot a potentially better shot than the one I had planned and to change it
5. That I would panic and get irritable with everyone and lose their respect.
6. That I would run out of time and not realise my vision of the piece.

 

Some of these fears were truly unfounded and this helped me to relax into my work as the day went on.  Some, however, were of greater concern, so I will address them one at a time.

 

1. From the moment I picked the actresses up at the station, I was very pleased with the choice that Sue had made for me.  Apart from being very nice people, amiable and easy to work with, they also matched the physical types that I had hoped for, with Laura Kate (playing Julia) being dark haried and Laura (playing Jane) being fair.  This created a nice physical contrast which not only helped the viewer differentiate between the two characters, but also added a subtle undertone of what kind of characters they are.  Fair Jane wins out over hostess, dark Julia, and I was pleased that I lucked out.

In terms of working with them, I did not have much more time than to go over the lines with them a couple of times, give them quite a lot of blocking direction and help with where the cameras would be and give them a few words of character development.  Again, I was very lucky as they had both come very well prepared and, since they knew each other previously, they worked easily and well together.  In a way, I am almost disappointed that I did not have to give much input into their performances, as I felt much like a technical director rather than an actor-orientated one.  Nevertheless, I could not have wished for an easier time with them, and I should consider that to be a blessing.

2. My camera plan turned out to be easier for the camera operators than I thought it would be and was relatively unadventurous.  Since it was mostly close-ups and head-and-shoulder shots it was easy to be consistent.  I think that the operators were thankful for that.  I had to change a few shots because the angles were too similar and I had slightly overestimated the amount of space that I had to manoeuvre in, but adding shots turned out to be easy and only took two minutes from my time every time I did it.  The actresses took my direction about movements quickly and easily and, from a technical perspective I was very pleased.  The only thing I was disappointed about was that the piece turned out to be visually uninteresting and I did not experiment as much as I could have with different angles, sizes of shot, etc.  As this was my first attempt at filmmaking, I was wary of doing anything that might not work, as I was worrying about all the other aspects of production, such as choosing my shots and working with the actors.  If I were every to try this again, I would definitely play with more angles, try some shots from the floor and especially not worry so much about crossing the line!
3. As soon as I walked into the gallery, I felt extremely detached from the actors and, indeed, everything that was going on in the studio.  This was not a good feeling and, if I was to take up film as a career, I would definitely be a director who stays in the studio and lets the gallery take care of itself.  I was much more at ease in the same space as the actors, as this gave me a sense of rapport with them and not abandoning them, as competent as they were.  

However, this feeling soon passed as I had to concentrate on the screens before me, on the vision mixing and on the sound quality.  I retained a focus so intense on what I was doing that I barely noticed the time passing and was surprised when I was told that I had to wrap up.  My attention was mostly taken up by watching the camera that was filming to make sure that I had exactly the shot I wanted, but also making sure that the next camera was ready with its shot.

I did not really hear whether the sound was good or not, although I assume I would have noticed if it dropped out suddenly.  This, of course, shows how little attention directors pay to the sound, but also that it is understandable, as I still believe film to be a predominantly visual medium.

I was taken aback by how easy it was to multitask everything and still listen to the input from my colleagues, especially Sally (the tutor who was with us that day) who occasionally made a suggestion.  Even when I decided not to take her advice, every suggestion she made was relevant and worth considering and she was truly invaluable in the process.  I expect that this is the kind of role a Director of Photography or a vision mixer would take in a bigger production team, and I was glad for it, as I am sure that I missed things that other people saw.  This highlighted to me the importance of collaboration on this sort of project, despite the director being in overall control.

4. As I mentioned above, being so busy with what was actually being filmed, I did have a tendency to miss opportunity for better shots.  This was due to my worry regarding my camera plan and, by the time I was reassured that my plan was working, there was little time to improve it.  I think that more experience in film would help me to plan better and therefore give me the freedom to look for potential better shots.
5. I stopped being nervous when I was in the gallery and my focus was so intense on the task at hand that I would not have known if I was rude to everyone!  However, I think that, because I was calm and concentrated, I was able to make decisions that were sensible and respectful to those involved.  The feedback I received from Sally and the actors suggested that my professionalism was good, and I was very pleased about this, because I know that I tend to be blunt and rude if I get flustered or feel that I am being blocked.  The ease of the process, from the start, helped to put me at my ease and I hope that, with good planning, this will be the case for any other film project that I direct in the future.
6. The biggest problem I had was running out of time.  Despite everyone’s best efforts, my piece was too long and I ended up with only two takes, neither of them to my satisfaction.  I am irritated by the fact that such good work was done in filming but, because of camera mistakes, this is not reflected in the final take.  The problems with the cameras were due to the inexperience of my camera operators, but I cannot blame them for that, as they are, after all, directors and not technicians.  With a shorter piece and a professional crew, I am sure I could have produced a take that I could have been very proud of.

Cinema is clearly not my medium. I can't seem to get myself excited about cameras. One of my biggest problems, I think, is that we have not been given enough time to play with our work and have fun with it, because it is all stres stress stress. Camera plans are like jigsaw puzzles. You don't create them the way you do because they look pretty, but rather because that way camera 1 will not be in the eyeline of camera 2. The thought of using professional actors scares the bejesus out of me because I am convinced that I will get into that studio and find that none of my angles work and I have no idea what I am doing. I wrote out my initial camera plan and said I would go back and change it, but then didn't because I truly didn't know how to improve on what I had.
Another worry is that there does not seem to be any rehearsal process, to speak of, and, if there is, I have not discovered it yet. We have one hour to rehearse and I really don't want to be pushing my actors around during that time, trying to get them to stand in the right place. I am afraid this will insult them, which may be weakness on my part, but, in any case, in not a way I like to work.
More later when I have done some work.

We spent the last two days planning out a one-person sequence which had to have the basic elements written down but we could play with the story and, of course, the camera shots. After sitting down and thinking of lots of dull things (which some people did) and some postmodern things (like a film director who can't think of a sequence), I settled on a piss-take of product placement. Basically, a man comes in and goes through all the motions of the scene, but without any inner life, because he is not a real character, but only a pawn used for the purpose of product placement. Every time he does something, a small sign saying "EAT AT JOES" is revealed, although you can't see any of the signs from the wide shots of the room. Many close ups were involved to get all the signs in without them being seen in the wide shots, and I think I panned up and down too many times. Sue said that if I want to bore the audience for the effect, panning endlessly is a legitimate choice to make. The problem became that I was not sure about the exact choices I did want to make, on that score.
I have found that my camera plans, now that I have written two (but only received feedback for one) tend to arrive in my head fully formed. The justification is not particularly clear as to why I have put the camera where I have and decided on how close the shot will be other than that it FEELS right. I am not certain, however, that this is legitimate, as far as justification goes, and I might have to work on that. Nevertheless, I think I am better off with that than struggling to come up with an angle that expresses a definite thought, such as "this establishes his sense of isolation", or whatever. I am coming to an eventual conclusion that, despite camera work being very technical, it is still an art, and I doubt that Speilberg sits around thinking about how he can acheive certain effects. It must be more of a process of, "I want to swoop in from above and then push in until the camera is almost touching the car door" and the effect that it creates is a result of inspired camera planning.
Otherwise, I found out two things about being an actor on camera. Firstly, you have no idea what part of you is being shot unless the director tells you, so you may be safe in picking your nose if the camera is pointed at your feet, but if you are getting an extreme close-up of your eyebrows, you had better not raise them. This has the added effect of never knowing how big you need to make your actions. For example, if I know that there is a close-up on my face, I do not need to produce a huge sigh to show that I am listless. The effect can be attained just by having the thought there. However, if it is a shot of the whole room, I would need to act much like I would on a stage.
On a related note, I worry about how little "acting" the actors actually get to do. This is especially true of single-cam, when the stop/start is so frequent that you may not be filmed for more than 3 seconds at a time. Obviously, the preparation process is very different from on stage, and I wonder about how Stanislavsky Method, etc, coped with the advent of cinema. Most of the actors from the Actor's Studio (very Method) ended up as film actors, so I suppose the way to go would be to ask one. If you wanted to really incorporate Method Preparation with Film, it would probably be best to have something very like NLP anchors. Instant and effective, one would hope. The only problem is that NLP has not permeated the acting world, so I am coming back to this, yet again. I might write the paper that I wanted to, after all.

Cameras confuse me. I always said I would probably never direct film because of the technicalities involved. After two days of this course, I am beginning to work out some of the very large tangle, but it feels like it would take years to learn all the terms and types of shots there are well enough to go "Oh yes, I need an R-42 Lens here for the soft focus effect, because that would REALLY make Jane look small and insignificant in the background". Furthermore, I don't even know right now that there is an option to make Jane look small and insignificant, because, I suspect, I will just film it, thinking the effect will magically appear, and then be surprised when it doesn't come out looking the way I want.
Technicalities aside, I am very happy to sit down and analyse every shot on camera in a film made by someone else.  I have even started to be able to figure out what makes an interesting/artistic film different from a bland/crap film.  This is good.  And, of course, it means that there is plenty of room for discussion.
What is interesting is that there is plenty of room for "visual discussion", in the same way that you would literarily discuss a book. "This shot is there because he wanted to remind us that the character is connected to her family and yet very much apart.  What comment do you think he is making regarding the nature of the family in general?  Can we say that 'Every man is an Island'?  Do we agree with him on that?'"  However, it's a far cry between being able to see the genius and being even able to emulate it.  The learning curve is steep, and I am not sure I know the difference between a close up and a medium close up, but at least there is progress.