A Director Never Rushes
Years working in grip and electric department shed light on good directorial practice.
A couple years ago I worked as a gaffer on a proof of concept piece with or some guys from out of town. The directorial team consisted of two guys plus a “show runner.” It made for a nebulous chain of command. One fellow in particular took the lead as far as doing the real grunt work of directing — telling people where to stand, calling action, cut, and so forth. Even when I am just working as the crew on set I always enjoy watching the directors and perceiving their personal style.
Too often we think of the director as a creative and too rarely as a leader. It is true the crew serves as the extension of the director, shielding them from combinatory explosion of particular details, but I do not think any director can work from a box hermetically sealed from the goings on of set and expect to foster a positive, efficient atmosphere on set. The struggle is in striking the right balance between involvement in the particulars and in seeing only the big picture with no respect to the actual variables at play.
Unfortunately, in this instance, I was struck by the director’s rushed and impatient demeanor. This is not uncommon of course; my intent isn’t to be hard on these particular folks. There is always much to do on set and little time, but I thought there might be a good lesson here.
“We don’t need it,” he told me, after I had already brought over a stand and black floppy to set over the monitor. He insisted that I stop what I was doing and take the equipment back inside. It is customary to place what we call a floppy, or just a black flag, which is basically just a large light shade to block unwanted light, over a monitor during exteriors so that the crew can view the screen without the glare of bright sunlight.
“We don’t need it.” He was insistent. So I took my stand and black flag back inside. For the next thirty minutes they squinted in the bright sunlight at the reflective screen, unable to make out the details of the shots. I suppose he thought we wouldn’t be outside very long and that he wanted to save time between set ups. This is not a bad motivation in a vacuum, but he could have let me do my job, which I had nearly completed at that point. I would be more understanding if he felt some other task was more important and immediately set me to work on something else, but in this case, I had nothing to do but watch them struggle to see their screen.
I was struck by how much a director’s energy affects the crew; how normal work can become stressful and tense if the wrong mood is set. Or in this case, how a frantic attitude can result in a slew of unproductive decisions. Of course, the demands of set require speed, efficiency and a thick skin, but there is certainly a more optimal balance to be struck than this.
For one thing, it is unusual to begin with for a director to be telling a gaffer what to do. This is a disruption of the chain of command, the tasks of the lighting department are overseen by the cinematographer, so there is generally no need for the director to worry him or herself with these details. I for one like a communicative set where these formal lines are slightly blurred in the spirit of collaboration. But better than telling people to hurry is to simply make them aware of the time constraints. Let the crew deduce on their own how much time they can spend working on a set up — give them a general sense of what your expectations are. Once the boots hit the ground you need to let people execute the plan. Even if you are feeling rushed you must not show it. Just about the worst thing you can do on set is to actively discourage initiative. Your crew will see that you are anxious to move on and stop working. They will not ask questions and will cease to sneak in between takes to polish up their work. Instead they become reactionary to you and to the immediate situation, only doing what they are told. And you, seeing them sitting around on their phones, will be convinced they are simply lazy, unaware that you are in fact the problem.
Anyone who has been on set knows the unique joy of the two simple words “moving on.” The constant tension to move as quickly as possible, while simultaneously attaining perfection is what defines the set experience, but this drive to make schedule can set a crew at odds with doing quality work. It is important for the director to be respectful of the time constraints, but you must not betray your own anxiousness to the crew. You must give the impression to the team that you will take as long as is necessary with any given set up, that you will not move on unsatisfied.
There are many times when you need your crew to pick up the pace. But you must be part of the team in this process. You cannot simply ask, “how long will this take?” and expect the process to speed up. Someone must take the lead. If not you, then your cinematographer or the 1st assistant director. No matter who is doing the talking you must be present where the work is being done. Start moving about quickly, telling the camera team exactly where to set up, putting the actors or stand-ins in place before they quite ready (safety allowing, of course), then people will start moving.
It is always beneficial to have talent in front of the camera. The crew is really just guessing what needs to happen until they see the action unfolding, and as soon as someone steps in front of the camera the whole atmosphere livens up. You cannot wander off and hope someone will tell you when everything is ready, bringing the actors in when you have noticed people are sitting around waiting for you, only to then nitpick the work that you paid no attention to. I wish I could say this wasn’t a commnonplace but it is.
You will know just by watching the set carefully what work needs to be done and what is unnecessary. The director is the only person who knows the totality of what is necessary for a shot, and many crew members will busy themselves with their conception of the image so it is natural that they will undertake peripheral work that will not be seen or dwelt on. Even here, there is no sense from preventing someone from completing tasks that provide an active benefit to the set, especially if you have no specific task you are going to ask them to work on instead. You might decide that their work actually deserves to be featured more prominently as a result of their improvisation. Have faith in your team. Demonstrate with your own body language that you are ready to roll. You cannot expect people to move quickly if you are sitting blithely in front of a monitor, mumbling “what’s taking so long?”
While sometimes a heightened pace is necessary, even beneficial, most of the time it is not. Even on a day where many scenes still lie ahead, never betray your anxiousness. People will think they can slack if they know you are looking at the clock more than at the scene. Countless hours on set are wasted by having to redo work or move equipment that resulted from simply failing to inform the crew of what set ups would come next. Keep your crew informed. Notice the work people do and appreciate it. Quicken the pace simply by participating in the process more fully rather than coming in after the work is done and asking for more changes. This requires a true command of the set, a knowledge of every department, their tasks, and their sense of taste. Most importantly, lean on the skills and talents of your department heads, and never let your body language or your tone indicate a frantic pace. Let them think you would sacrifice the entire day for this next set up even if in your mind, you are racing furiously towards the next shot.