Alan Taylor

Last night I went to see “1917” and it was one of the most amazing movies I’ve ever seen. Much has been said (quite rightly) about the way that it appeared to be one single continuous shot for the entire movie and of course the DoP was awarded an Oscar for it. However I was also impressed by the sound track. I don’t ever recall going to a film where silence has been such a prominent feature, which is all the more surprising because the story is set in the middle of a battlefield and conventionally, such a movie would have explosions and noises all the time. Having the courage to pull the sound effects right back and only use them when needed was a masterstroke because it draws you in to what is happening to the main characters. Obviously by being quiet for extended periods, it also offers the sound mixer more scope to shock the audience with sudden loud noises.

It’s something which is very close to my heart because I tried to exploit quietness and dynamic range in a number of dramas which I worked on. In many cases the director wasn’t easily persuaded about it, despite me pointing out that symphonies have quiet bits as well as loud bits, or that in television, flat lighting tends to be uninteresting, while clever use of light and shade makes for impressive pictures. For me the breakthrough came when I did a Film Two drama (shot on video), "The Russian Soldier", which few people now remember. The director was Gavin Millar and he liked the idea of enhancing the narrative by exploiting silence. The principle location was a farm in a remote part of Dorset and the tense nature of the storyline meant that periods of silence worked well, it drew your attention to subtle reactions by the actors, it was as though you could almost hear the character’s brains working as events unfolded. To give you an idea of how quiet it was, we could easily hear the crew’s wrist watches ticking, so had to ask everybody to leave them behind. There was scene where the dialogue went from a barely audible whisper to the loudest possible angry shout just a fraction of a second later. In order to handle the dynamic range, I fed the microphone to two channels, one set at a level for whispers, with the other set for the screaming. The whisper channel was rapidly faded out on cue, while the screaming channel was left up throughout. A second, more distant microphone was also left faded up, which provided a touch of room ambience to the shouting, which made it sound even louder. This was in the days before split track recordings were feasible on VT, so it was important to get it right on the recording. I did take the precaution of making a safety recording on a Nagra, but didn’t need to use it. The scene was very emotional and the actors didn’t want to keep rehearsing it or shooting it, so after a quick rehearsal, the red light went on and every take was useable, retakes were only needed for performance reasons.

I was feeling really happy with what we shot, but was somewhat concerned when Gavin started telling me about the music. He told me that he had managed to engage Stanley Myers, who had received an Oscar for his score on “The Deer Hunter”. I was a young TV sound supervisor and I initially felt somewhat intimidated by the prospect of working with somebody of his stature and was worried that he might be intending to deliver a massive orchestral music score which would be at odds with the ideas I had for the sound track, but when we started discussing it, we found ourselves in complete agreement. I had experienced issues previously where composers delivered music which largely obliterated important dialogue and wanted to explain to him how I like the music and dialogue to co-exist harmoniously, but needed to be diplomatic so as not to cause offence. The comparison I made was with any typical Frank Sinatra recording, especially those scored by Nelson Riddle. What you think you hear is a massive orchestra giving all they’ve got with Frank singing over the top if it. What actually happens is that the orchestra gives everything they’ve got during the intro, but when Frank sings, the only thing continuing behind him is the rhythm section strumming along, with no strident trumpets. His voice is always clearly heard. At the end of each phrase, the orchestra kicks in at full volume, especially the brass section. The music weaves around the voice, never competing, dropping away just in time for Frank’s next line. Stanley loved that comparison, especially as it was described in a way which made perfect sense to a musician, so much so that he went on to say that he proposed to pinch that comparison and use it during his lectures on score writing.

Stanley came to the dub and said that if I make the first music cue peak to about 3, the rest will all fit nicely. Obviously you don’t just leave the faders alone, but he was essentially bang-on and if the faders had been left alone, it would have been perfectly usable. During one particularly emotional scene, the music was barely peaking 1 and was borderline inaudible at times, but that’s exactly how he wanted it and it worked beautifully.

As an aside, the day after that dub, I was doing a pre-production meeting in Threshold House for another drama. During the small talk prior to the meeting starting, the producer mentioned that they had cast an actor for a major role because she claimed she could play the piano, which was only a minor requirement for her role, but that morning they discovered that the only tune she could play was the theme from “The Deer Hunter” and while that tune would have been OK within the story, he was concerned by how much it might cost to get the rights to use music from an American film. I pointed out that the composer was Stanley Myers and that he was British, so it might be OK after all. He was still doubtful, so I asked him if I could use his phone. I opened my Filofax, phoned Stanley Myers and explained the problem. He said it should be perfectly straightforward and not very expensive, asking for our people to contact his people for it to be sorted. I told the producer that the composer is happy for it to be used and it won’t be expensive. The look of the others in the room was priceless when they realised I had just called a Hollywood composer, had a friendly chat and resolved their problem. For some reason I completely forgot to let them know that there wasn’t another composer on the planet who I could have made such a call with.

On other dubs, I was also able to use silence creatively. On a police drama, the story starts with a scene where officers in a patrol car were bored out of their minds, parked up in the middle of the night when there is an explosion in a nearby factory. Rather than leave absolute silence, I decided to subtly add quiet sounds which you might not normally be aware of. Library ‘atmos’ recordings were trawled through, but without much success and even the much-used "distant dog" disk was far too prominent, so I used a portable DAT recorder to record some suitable stuff in the middle of the night such as a train passing three or four miles distant or occasional cars passing quite a long way away. Distinct recordings of things with a lot of air between them and the microphone sound quite different to a conventional recording played quietly. It worked well in the mix because when you half hear such things, you seem to listen that little bit harder to try and work out what’s there, which means that when the explosion comes, you jump out of your seat. The gram op eagerly offered to jump up and down at the back of the dubbing suite when the explosion happened to make it seem more powerful for the director, but I declined his kind offer.

Dubbing "The Life and Loves of a She Devil" was much more challenging in that respect because Phillip Saville was one of those directors who always wanted everything turned up to 11 all the time. There were some scenes where I knew we needed a large dynamic range because of explosive effects or explosive dialogue, but if Phillip had had his way, there would have been no headroom for the loud parts to rise into. I always used to print dubbing sheets, which had a linear timeline, typically showing two to three minutes per page, with each track laid out vertically and plenty of room for my notes. It gave me a good oversight of what was coming up and helped me keep to schedule. If I needed to leave room for a loud noise, I would mark my dubbing sheet to warn me at least thirty seconds ahead of that point within the story that I needed to hold the levels a bit lower than usual so that I could make an impact when needed. However, I found that I had to compensate by boosting the control room speakers by a corresponding amount so that Phillip didn’t notice. Once the loud bit had been mixed, there was then the problem of getting back to normal monitoring levels, however scenes such as that were generally the culmination of a build-up, so completing that scene was the ideal time for a quick tea break and normal monitoring levels could resume unnoticed.

Going back to "1917", for those who haven’t yet seen it, I thoroughly recommend it. My local cinema relegated it to the upstairs screen with fabulously comfy seating for barely one hundred people. There were only half a dozen other people there yesterday and they remained utterly silent throughout the movie. I don’t recall the last time I watched a movie without being distracted at some point by others in the cinema. It was well worth a fiver of anybody’s money. I’m sure than any of us folk watching that movie would think countless times "How the hell did they do that?". There are some YouTube videos, [for example, this one [[https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=2vUBT6_CLF4 ]] explaining much of it, but I would strongly advise watching the movie first and only watching the "how they did it" videos afterwards.

 

Ian Norman

What a great email, it has brighten up my morning.

 

Hugh Sheppard

Hear Hear!  At least that’s appropriate for a you-are-there experience of a sound manager’s skills. Such memories warrant binding into a book of what Tech-Ops represented in its heyday. All too often, listening to TV sound nowadays manages to insult both the speaker and the audience at the same time.

Like Alan, Emily Maitlis succeeds in getting the adrenalin of broadcasting competence across to the reader in her book “Airhead”. The title belies the content – and it’s now in paperback.

 

Roger Long

Saw the Oscars last night, 4 hours of it!

Best bit, the award for best sound for “1917”.

I know Stuart, the Production Sound Mixer, from IPS events: he deserves it.

Roger Deakins worked for BBC Bristol film unit, as a freelance, in the 1980s, I really admire his films.

Sam’s wife, Alison Balsom, the classical trumpeter, featured in a brief cut away. She is the Music Director of Cheltenham Music Festival for which I record archive performances.

So 4 hours of soppy television was worth sitting through for once.

 

Geoff Hawkes

Well done Alan for the detailed and interesting message,  though some parts were foreign-speak to me as a cameraman.

My wife and I went to see the film about three weeks ago and we were really impressed.

[…]

What you said about the contrasting sound levels was perfectly true and the occasional loud bursts, like when the plane crashed had the shocking effect intended, adding to the reality of the wartime experience which is what it was all about. I had taken earplugs with me in case it was all loud as is so often the case nowadays and was glad not to need them.

 

Dave Mundy

Lovely e-mail, Alan, but where on earth can you see a film in comfy seats for £5? Our nearest multi-screen complex in Kingston charges at least £15 for a reclining duo-seat with footrest and food tray so you can have a nice glass of red stuff and even a slice of pizza! Why people have to eat their meals in a cinema is beyond me!  The last 007 film I went to see was totally ruined by the moron in the next seat dipping into his bucket of popcorn every few seconds at regular intervals throughout the whole film, in my peripheral vision. When we were in New Zealand, we went to a lovely cinema. A helicopter pilot had spent 10 years filming the Southern Alps and built a cinema to show his movie. You could have afternoon tea and watch the glory of the landscape in comfort, that was acceptable eating in a cinema, popcorn etc. isn’t! End of rant!

 

Alan Taylor

The Odeon, Banbury charges £5 per reserved seat (no concession prices) for most 2D movies other than certain  blockbusters, or £5.75 if you book online. Screen 2, upstairs has the comfiest seats, but the others are good. You can see the prices for yourself online if you want. 

John Craven lives near me and when I was working with him one day, he explained that he likes to go to afternoon ‘silver screenings’ for seniors, where the prices are even lower. 

As Screen 2 tends to show less popular movies, or movies that have been out for a while, it’s rarely crowded and the audiences are usually very well behaved, some even staying to watch all the credits – much to the annoyance of the staff who want to lock up and go home. When we went to see the “David Copperfield” film last Monday evening, we were the only couple in the entire cinema, so we relocated to the super comfy premium seats just to check out what they were like.

It’s not a multiplex, it only has two screens, therefore the choice of movies is limited, but they’re just starting to build a new multiplex in town which should bring a bit of competition. 

As if that wasn’t enough, there is a council car park directly outside the front door of the cinema with free parking after 19:00 and we usually find plenty of spaces there.

Life in the sticks does have some advantages.

 

Mike Giles

Dorking Halls has one small film screen and a slightly larger one in regular use and they occasionally use the main hall, but the prices are very reasonable but not as low as £5. If you are a ‘friend’ you get a reduced price and four free tickets per year. We saw “1917” in the smaller area, but it lost nothing for that and was totally gripping, even if a couple of plot lines stretched credibility a bit far. It actually seemed to arrest the pop-corn brigade and there was total concentration, with most staying for the credits. 

My reaction early on was that it was rather like live telly, in the sense that there must have been an awful lot of rehearsal to get cameras, main and incidental action in sync. The overwhelming sense for me was that we were going with the action, not just watching it. 

 

Pat Heigham

I didn’t think that the sound in the (Dorking) main hall was that good, but since I went some time ago, things might have been done in the way of acoustic treatment!

I saw “42nd Street” at The Capitol, Horsham on Bob Foley’s advice, and the projection and sound was perfect. OK the seats were £12.50, and slightly raked, but tilted back so one was quite relaxed looking up at the screen!

We were allowed to take in a plastic glass of wine, but no burgers or popcorn on offer, thank goodness.

 

Nick Ware

I always thought the Dorking Hall acoustics were pretty dreadful. A great big rectangular box, lots of reflective glass and no proscenium arch. My Dad was a friend of Ralph Vaughan Williams, and during his Choral Society concert rehearsals we sometimes used to chat with him over afternoon tea. Of course, it could be that they’ve fixed the acoustics since then. RVW died in 1958 and Dad died in 1972, and I haven’t been in there since then!

 

Mike Giles

That’s the main hall you’re referring to I presume, Nick – I’ve never heard any serious music in there and the in-house crew they use for other stuff are not always up to much. I’ve had serious words with their “technical manager” who got the job because he was involved in school productions! When I first met him after they totally ruined a Stage Coach production (lots of kids and teenagers, but they deserved better) I actually thought he was still a schoolboy.  Any professional show worth its salt, and even some amateurs, bring in their own crew. We’ve been to several shows at the New Victoria in Woking, which is bigger, but they still manage to cock-up the sound sometimes – the Carole King musical had dire sound, which surprised me, because I would have thought the show handled everything. Can’t recall which the other poor ones have been, but certainly more than one other. 

But I don’t think the likes of Dorking Halls have much say over cinema sound – they’re not even allowed to tweak the volume – the franchise chain sets up the audio and that’s the way it’s supposed to stay. It’s absolutely true to say that it doesn’t match a big auditorium, but because it’s cosy it seems OK. On one occasion we were the only two people in, so I asked the usherette if we needed to sit through the adverts and she got the projectionist to start about ten minutes in. She also brought free coffee to us in proper cups! You don’t get that service at The Odeon. 

[ed: in connection with the contribution of the sound track to the picture and story – sound as an actor, it is useful to consider the Orson Welles memo in respect of this film (thanks to an email from John Vincent) .  It begins:

“ …As the camera roves through the streets of the Mexican bordertown, the plan was to feature a succession of different and contrasting Latin American musical numbers – the effect, that is, of our passing one cabaret orchestra after another. In honky-tonk districts on the border, loudspeakers are over the entrance of every joint, large or small, each blasting out it’s own tune by way of a "come-on" or "pitch" for the tourists. The fact that the streets are invariably loud with this music was planned as a basic device throughout the entire picture. The special use of contrasting "mambo-type" rhythm numbers with rock ‘n’ roll will be developed in some detail at the end of this memo, when I’ll take up details of the "beat" and also specifics of musical color and instrumentation on a scene-by-scene and transition-by-transition basis…”  [Welles memo]