On the brightness issue, there were only a couple scenes which seemed to be a bit washed out related to backlighting. One in the third story occurred when the couple are at the man's house - his large windows backlit and washed them out a bit too much. Also in the second story, there’s a scene where the main female character is sitting in front of a large window where she is again washed out by the powerful back light, although it does provide the opportunity for a really nice close up of her face in which the washout softens the line of her cheek.
One thing that initially stood out to me as a negative was a lack of variety. The camera is static; no zooms, pans or dollys. There are also very few coverage shots, and some whole scenes are contained in single takes. One that sticks out is a very wide shot of two characters in an apartment that looked into the living/dining room area. At one point, both of them walked into the kitchen, completely out of the shot for at least a minute, but there was never any coverage. An audience who is used to seeing multiple angles, a moving camera, and special effects will probably be confused and quickly bored. (I think my husband lasted about fifteen minutes.) But in the context of minimalism, this makes perfect sense. And if this film were shown in an arthouse, the audience would probably pick up on it fairly quickly.
The shots in this film were also framed oddly. The camera was usually tilted slightly up or slightly down, and there was almost always too much headroom (ie the space between the top of the character’s head at the top of the screen). In some scenes where characters are sitting down, they are set up in a wide shot, but cut off just below the shoulders so the majority of the shot is taken up by a blank wall.
The rule of thumb for framing involves the rule of thirds. Divide the frame into three even sections from top to bottom, and the 'center of interest' - in the case of portrait framing this is usually the subject's eyes - should line up with the start of that top third, or one-third of the way down. (See Wikipedia for examples.) One is also never supposed to cut off a subject at any place where the body naturally bends (neck, elbow, ankle, etc) as it gives the subconscious impression that the particular body part has actually been cut off (the human mind is weird like that.) This particular choice was apparently an homage to some of the director's favorite filmmakers who were particularly fond of lots of headroom. Once again, the arthouse crowd would probably get the connection, but your average audience might not.
The one thing that didn't seem to fit quite as well with this theme - though it may have been another homage - were the multiple transitions. The film would suddenly cut to black in the middle of a scene, which I would think was its conclusion, even though the audio continued to play. But then the images would suddenly come right back. Sometimes this is used as an artistic method, but suddenly cut to black in the middle of the scene, especially when nothing dramatic has happened, is very jarring and looks like an editing glitch.
This technique is used effectively within the film in a few areas, however. I particularly liked the shot that introduced the third story - the image holds on black, then a door opens, revealing a couple kissing passionately and stumbling inside the room. It's a great introduction to the story, as it is about a one-night stand that became something more. When the audio continues through these cuts, it’s a great transition. Though unless something jarring happens - a light going out, for instance - the cuts should probably be dissolves for this type of transition.
There was a really nice soft piano score in this movie, and most of the time it worked with the action. It often played during interludes or montages, and sometimes in moments of tension or sadness. It reminded me a bit of the use of a piano as a transition device in the television show Mr. Rogers' Neighborhood, (that's a compliment! Trust me!) although in this case it was certainly a lot less upbeat.
There was one use of the music that seemed strange - in the transition between stories one and two, the piano played two notes, then suddenly stopped even while the screen held black. It seemed odd, especially since the note that the music stopped on was at a pitch that seemed to want to continue to another note instead of being a "final" one (if that makes any sense). That could be interpreted as an artistic touch, but it doesn't precede anything jarring as one might normally expect.
In another nod to minimalism - and perhaps in an anti-mainstream touch - music is noticeably absent during the scenes in which one would expect to hear it. There are a few party and club scenes in which one would assume to have some sort of music in the background, but there is only dialog. I understand the thought behind this choice, but as many of these scenes contain obvious reverb (or echo), background music could help to make these sounds - which always stand out like a sore thumb when not covered - less noticeable. The reverb didn't always match within the same scene, so even if it was intentional it still didn't sound right. To continue with an homage to the Warhol generation, there is always the option of adding in music from that era - there would be the added ironic bonus that today's generation were listening to their parents' music. (Even if it's not in public domain or royalty-free, there are lots of bands and musicians who are willing to work with indie filmmakers; our editor Jeremy is currently working with bands on Jamendo.com for his next feature, Depleted, which a number of us are working on.) Just remember that a good standard for background music (known as a “bed”) is to mix it to -18 Db to avoid overpowering the dialog (which is often mixed to –12 Db).
(Check out this article for more audio tips)
