First Time Director. Gil Bettman

Sugarland Express, were all made from great scripts. They all became breakthrough films for their first time directors. But, with the exception of Goldie Hawn in Sugarland and John Cusack in Say Anything, most of the casts of these films have not been heard from since. On the other hand, you could argue that Mean Streets would not have been Scorsese's breakthrough film without Harvey Keitel and Robert DeNiro; Terminator would not have been the launching pad for Cameron's spectacular career without Schwarzenegger; and Reservoir Dogs would not have put Tarentino in the club for life without Keitel. So don't destroy your relationship with your producer over casting decisions. Argue forcefully for your choices right up the point where you feel you might do permanent damage to whatever good will exists between you and your producer, and then back off.

      As always, there are exceptions to this rule. It is hard to imagine Woody Allen breaking through as a director without Woody Allen to star in his films. A film that is character driven and hinges on one central character, as Allen's early films do, could be fatally handicapped if the right actor is not cast in the pivotal role. So, in certain rare instances, it is conceivable that a first time director would be well advised to walk off such a film if the producer keeps him from casting the right actor in the pivotal role.

      As for making a film with only a competent cast, you will have to be a talented director of actors. You had best understand Method acting. If you don't, you've got to be smart enough and instinctive enough to come up with instructions for your actors that will enable them to take their performances to a higher level. You will have to know just what to say to get them unstuck when they get stuck, to make their mediocre moments good, and their good moments great. But it can be done. I'll show you how in Chapters 6 and 7.

CHAPTER 2 | SUMMARY POINTS

      • On his breakthrough gig, the first time director should be ready to move heaven and earth to assure that the content of his film is of the highest caliber — the content being the script and the cast. If the script is solid, then you're protected, even if the cast is only competent.

      • Before they undertake their big breakthrough gig, all first time directors should have spent a reasonable amount of time trying to understand and incorporate the wisdom of one of the great screenwriting gurus.

      • The first time director must understand and take to heart the fundamental truth that, if the audience is transported into the drama of the film, they will sit there happily for the entire two hours with their eyes riveted on the screen, even if the look of the film is decidedly low-tech.

      • The audience must know who the main character of the film is and what that character wants — and they must want him to get it. If the audience does not care a great deal, then either the hero is not sufficiently heroic or his quest is not truly a worthy quest.

      • The defining quality of a true hero is self-sacrifice and selflessness. It is best if, early on in the film, the hero performs a selfless act.

      • A good rule of thumb to make sure that the audience will very much want the main character to achieve his objective is to simply require that the objective is either one of two things: love, or something the hero must be willing to give up his life to get.

      • Once the (admirable) main character has launched himself on his (worthwhile) quest, then what keeps the audience transported into the action is suspense. The film has to become increasingly more suspenseful. The stakes must continually go up as the hero nears his objective.

      • To make sure that the script of his breakthrough film does not suffer from second-act sag, the first time director must ask himself if in each scene, as the hero approaches his objective, (1) do the obstacles become more daunting, and (2) does the hero have more and more to lose if he fails?

      • You have got to come close to perfection in casting if you are going to make a great film. The rule of thumb on how to achieve this is to never settle.

      • Don't destroy your relationship with your producer over casting decisions. Argue forcefully for your choices right up the point where you feel you might do permanent damage to whatever good will exists between you and your producer, and then back off.

      • In the day-late-dollar-short world of low budget filmmaking, there are many producers who are shockingly lacking in the ability to discern a good script from a mediocre one. Furthermore, most low budget producers cannot distinguish a truly likeable and compelling actor from one who is merely attractive and competent.

      • I would advise every first time director who is at loggerheads with his producer over script changes or casting decisions to have a very sober conversation with himself about whether his ultimate goals as a director are going to be met by directing a film that is inherently flawed.

      • Many a writer-director of note has launched his career by being able to scrape together enough money to make his breakthrough film on the strength of the script alone. When this is the case, the writer-director, in effect, acts as his own producer.

      • Do not delude yourself into thinking that you are a writer-director rather than a hired gun, and that you can further your directing career by directing from your own material — unless everyone you show your scripts to tells you that you are a great writer.

      PART TWO:

      VISUAL DESIGN

      CHAPTER 3 | CAMERA BLOCKING

Why Move Your Camera?

      The results are in. It's now final. Sidney Lumet has started to move his camera. Therefore, the revolution which Spielberg started in the early ‘70s is complete. Before Spielberg, a director had a choice. Whenever possible, he could move his camera and use lenses to force perspective, like Orson Welles, or he could do it occasionally, like Capra, or rarely, if at all, like Lumet.

      By the mid-'70s Spielberg's phenomenal success had all but wiped out the choice. Spielberg had set the visual standard for the business. Every director was hip to the trend — the more your movies looked like Spielberg's, the more work you were going to get. For those of us who started careers in Spielberg's wake, the pressure to ape the master was intense. As time went on, the pressure became even more intense. In the early ‘80s along came MTV which pushed camera movement and forced perspective to its logical conclusion and beyond by ushering in the hyperactive, shaky camera of Joe Pytka. In Pytka's breakthrough commercials the camera jumped, jittered, zoomed in and out, and hunted around as if it had a mind of its own. That brought about the Snoopy Camera of NYPD Blue and Homicide, which not only had a mind of its own, but seemed high on speed or something so energizing, it never stopped moving. And yet, through it all, the great Sidney Lumet held firm. Static wide shot, over the shoulder's, close-up, close-up, extreme close- up if necessary; that's how he shot his films. And they were fantastic. Serpico, Dog Day Afternoon, Prince of the City, and The Verdict succeeded so completely on every other level, they did not have to look like Spielberg's.

      Through the ‘80s and ‘90s, the toys for moving the camera got better and better. The steadicam, the sky cam, the luma crane, the shot maker enabled Spielberg and all those who were shooting in his style to make the camera perform like Tinker Bell. Directors who had always moved their camera, moved it more wildly and more often. Why not? With the new technology, they could add still greater intensity to the visual aspect of their films. Scorsese moved his camera so much in The Color of Money a friend of mine quipped, “The cameraman should have gotten paid by the yard.” And yet, Lumet would not budge. Static wide shot, over the shoulder's, close-up, close-up.

      Hereafter, for the sake of convenience, I am going to refer to the style in which all major studio movies are shot today — with a consistently moving camera and regular use of forced perspective lenses — as the Spielbergian style. This is not to say that he invented this style. Hitchcock and especially Welles pioneered it. Kubrick and a handful of others used it to good end in the two decades before Spielberg burst on the scene. But the success of Spielberg's films established this style as the industry standard.

      Those of us who shot in the Spielbergian