A Low-Tech Effects Shot from "Mission: Impossible III"

This is one of director J.J. Abrams' favorite visual effects shots from his film, "Mission: Impossible III". Rather than have actor Eddie Marsan forcibly shove the prop into Tom Cruise's nose, J.J. came up with a different idea on how to accomplish the shot.

direct link to YouTube
Watch his full TED talk from March 2007 here.

Visual Effects Camera Work: "A Fish Called Wanda" and "Mission: Impossible III"

You will undoubtedly hear this bit of advice repeatedly on this blog: the single best education for visual effects artists involves watching non-visual effects films and dissecting and analyzing the creative and technical choices made to achieve believable shots. In this article, I'll concentrate on organic, realistic camera work in live-action films and how photoreal visual effects artists can learn from cinematographers how to compose actors within the frame, and make their camera work feel natural and true to the style of the rest of the film. I'll also show you an example of my work from "Mission: Impossible III," and how I analyzed the film's camerawork to make my effects shot fit into the rest of the film.

One of the basic tenets of photographic camera work involves the framing of actors with appropriate headroom. Traditional Hollywood movies have used the rule of thirds to help guide cameramen into shooting pleasant compositions. Framing an actor's eyes to fit onto a line that is 1/3 of the way from the top edge of the frame is sure-fire way of achieving a 'proper' composition. Using this technique, the actors fill the frame in a pleasing manner with proper headroom; the audience can clearly read the actor's face. Generally speaking, this type of framing of actors' is the standard for Hollywood films. Unless a filmmaker has a stylistic reason for framing his actor differently (to give the shot a different, off-balance emotional feel), you will see this type of framing as the standard.

A shot from "Romancing the Stone" (1984), directed by Robert Zemeckis.

The same shot, with an upper-third overlay. Notice how Michael Douglas' eyes perfectly line up with the upper third of the frame.

Better yet, this kind of framing consistency means that when one shot cuts with another, the audience doesn't need to frantically scan the frame to lock their eyes on what is important: the actor's eyes. Actors' eyes are consistently featured at the upper third of the frame, which leaves the audience only to scan the frame horizontally from shot to shot. It's a subtle way to help guide an audience member through a sequence. Remember, in most cases, traditional Hollywood narrative films need to keep the techniques subordinate to the story. The editing, sound effects, cinematography and set design all need to service the story and characters, rather than call attention to themselves.

Another shot from "Romancing the Stone."

The same shot with an upper-third overlay.

This lesson is extremely valuable to anyone who creates visual effects or animated shots from scratch. Without any live-action footage to use as a basis, it is up to the artist to frame the shot properly. In these cases, it is important for visual effects artists to mimic their live-action counterparts and understand this basic convention of cinematography.

Let's watch this scene from "A Fish Called Wanda," directed by Charles Crichton. Watch how effortlessly we cut from angle to angle in this brilliant sequence, completely devoid of dialogue.

fish from Todd Vaziri Vimeo on Vimeo.

Watch it again, this time with the sound down (as to not distract you from analyzing the visuals), and pay close attention to the compositions, particularly on Michael Palin's close ups. Notice how the camera operator consistently frames its subjects in a pleasing manner, consistently striving for pleasing compositions, not only for actors but props and set pieces (like a gun, a pulley, ropes, and a giant block of concrete).

Notice how the cameraman is constantly reframing his tilt angle to give Palin a pleasant composition within the frame. These shots were photographed with a human being behind the camera, with separate pan and tilt wheels being cranked to frame the shot properly. This lends the shot an organic, hand-created quality, something that is frequently missing from visual effects shots that are 100% synthetic.

Raymond Stella, camera operator, sets up a shot for "Back To The Future Part II." Notice the pan wheel (on the left of the mount) and the tilt wheel (at the rear of the mount).

Why is there sometimes a discrepancy between the feel of real camera moves and synthetic moves? Why do purely synthetic visual effects shots sometimes stand out from ordinary non-effects shots? There are two primary reasons: purely synthetic camera compositions are not framed properly, and the camera's pan/tilt movement is frequently robotic.

As we just discussed, professional cinematographers have the tenets of composition in their DNA; on the other hand, very few digital artists have a photographic background, so it is important for these artists to have a solid foundation of knowledge when it comes to these concepts. Proper framing of subject is something any digital artist can learn.

A more difficult and subtle technique to learn, however, is the skill of adding the organic pan and tilt adjustments to a shot. Rather than pan and tilt wheels being 'performed' in real time on a set, synthetic camera moves are programmed using motion curves on a computer. By default, these curves are exquisitely perfect with either linear perfection, or computer-created acceleration and deceleration slopes. And, if the artist doesn't go in and 'mess up' those curves, they will end up creating a camera move that is sterile and robotic.

Antiseptic, inorganic camera moves are not deal-breakers, but they subconsciously take the viewer out of the experience. A visual effects shot with crystal-clean camera movement, within the context of non-effects shots, is disruptive to the viewing experience. An audience becomes conditioned to the natural, organic nature of a film's camera movement, which makes the visual effects shot stick out, even if that visual effects shot looks completely photoreal and convincing. This is one of those situations in visual effects that, when noticed, causes audiences to say, "That shot feels fake. I don't know why it looks fake, but there's definitely something fake about it."

How can shots with robotic camera moves slip through the cracks? How can visual effects supervisors allow this kind of camera animation get through to the big screen, given all of the hard work and constant reviewing that the shot gets during production? The answer is simple - the vast majority of the time, a visual effects shot, while in production, is viewed hundreds of times on a loop, without any context. The shot just plays over and over at an artist's desk, in dailies and in client reviews. Yes, the shot is cut into a sequence (both on the effects house's side, and on the client's side), but the vast majority of the time, the shot is being analyzed and critiqued in a vacuum. And in a vacuum, the camera move might look just fine. In fact, having an overly-smooth camera move in an effects might actually increase the chances of a shot getting approved. Subconsciously, the artists want their work to be seen, and seen clearly (not only for reasons of vanity, but also from a story point of view), and keeping the camera moves uncomplicated certainly helps the readability of the shot. Adding organic tweaks and twitches to the camera move may be correct and more realistic in context, but it may actually decrease the readability of the shot. Personally, my artistic sensibility is to err on the side of naturalism over readability. Our job as visual effects artists is to make shots that feel as spontaneous and organic as possible, as if the action is truly happening right in front of our eyes; creating organic camera moves is part of that process.

Here's another section of the "Wanda" scene, played back in slow motion with an upper-third horizontal line overlay, so we can better analyze the camera movement.


Notice how the operator is striving to hit the proper eyeline framing. Look at all of the micro movements in the tilt that occur throughout the shot. The operator knows the key marks that Palin will hit, but he doesn't necessarily know precisely when he'll hit those marks. The result is the kind of organic, humanistic camera movement that subtly reminds you that this is a movie made by human beings. These are the kinds of cues that are important to add to synthetic camera moves.

Depending on the shot, the camera operator might miss a moment entirely. Watch this clip from the "Wanda" sequence to see what happens when the operator is a bit behind the action.


For a moment, Palin's eyes are completely off screen. Watching this shot on a loop, one might be surprised that a shot like this would actually make it into the movie. In fact, this is one of those "I would never be able to get away with that kind of move in visual effects" moments. No visual effects supervisor or director would approve an effects shot with that kind of camera move in their shot-- they would complain that the move is far too wild, and we lose focus on what's important: Palin's horrified reaction to what he has just done. However, within the context of the rest of the scene, we 'get it,' and Palin's eyes briefly leaving frame just adds to the emotional shock and absurd comedy of the scene.

Of course, every cinematographer and camera operator has a different style. One cannot study the camera style of a single film and expect to understand the vocabulary of camera movements. "A Fish Called Wanda" was classically shot; in creating this character-driven comedy, the filmmakers made a conscious decision to allow the actors to move within the frame, shoot relatively static, and not call attention to the filmmaking process by keeping the camera moves unobtrusive. On the other hand, a modern action film like "Mission: Impossible III" contains a visual style quite different.

Director J.J. Abrams and cinematographer Dan Mindel created a film whose camera movement was essentially a character in the film. Rather than allowing the camerawork to be invisible and unobtrusive, the camerawork in "MI3" does some heavy lifting; the frenetic nature of the camera style adds to the chaos and unpredictability of the action sequences. Rather than letting the actors work within a static frame, the camera takes us along for the ride and interacts with the characters and the action. When Ethan Hunt (Tom Cruise) is running down the Chesapeake Bay bridge, the camera is running right along with him, trying to keep up, mirroring the emotions of the characters. This style is sometimes called cinema verite, or documentary-style filmmaking, where the camera is an active participant in the action, rather than objectively and coldly recording the choreography.

I was sequence supervisor of the visual effects for the bridge attack sequence for "MI3" at Industrial Light & Magic. To ensure that our visual effects shots fit seamlessly into the rest of the film, we had to pay close attention to the style of camerawork created by Mindel and camera operator Colin Anderson. Here is a portion of the bridge attack sequence, which is entirely comprised of first unit camera work. (Although there are a few ILM shots in this clip, we didn't alter the camerawork in any way.)

Notice the style of camera movement in the clip, contrasted with the "Wanda" clip. The "MI3" camera is constantly pulsing and breathing, mimicking Hunt's point of view. It's a moment of chaos, and the characters are trying to react to this chaos, and so is the camera. In this clip, the camera is constantly searching, readjusting, sometimes losing 'proper' framing. There are a couple of micro-crash zooms in the clip, as well, which is something one would typically see in a documentary. This is exactly the sequence I studied to help create the camera move for one of our big effects shots of the sequence-- a shot that I composited, and that would require a synthetic camera move.

The final two shots of the above clip were very important to me, since they had a very similar tone and feel to my shot, with similar action and camera choreography. The style in which Mindel and Anderson photographed those two shots would be my inspiration for the camera move for "be064," the production code for the shot of Hunt getting blown forward by the shockwave of the truck explosion behind him.

Because of the staggering complexity of the stuntwork, special effects, and ultimately the visual effects work, the base background plates were photographed as smoothly as possible, rather than 'performed' as the rest of the movie was photographed. Visual effects supervisor Roger Guyett needed to make sure that we captured pristine photography of the elaborate stunt that the actor, himself, would be performing, along with the amazing practical special effects explosion.

Here are the base photographic plates for the shot, as featured in the "MI3" 2-disc DVD special edition:

view on Vimeo
Because the focus of this article is visual effects camera work, I will not be able to dive into the massive complexities of this particular shot. Hopefully, I'll be able to talk about the specific challenges of this effects shot in a future article.

As you can plainly see, the base photographic plates for be064 were shot without panning or tilting, slightly wider than necessary, and captured with two cameras with spherical lenses (I would later merge these plates into one large, wide anamorphic plate). I also built my composite with this smooth camera move, without any frenetic camera moves. Once my smooth pre-composite was in good shape, I would add the camera moves in the 2D composite.

Abrams had some very specific camera direction for key moments in the shot. At the head of the shot, he wanted to be tight on Hunt (similar to the framing of the second to last shot of the first "MI3" clip.) Then, just before the missile hits the truck, he wanted a crash zoom out, to reveal a wider view of the action. Then, after the explosion occurs, he wanted the 'operator' to pan/tilt and zoom into the unmanned aerial vehicle (UAV) that whizzes right over Hunt's head. After the flyby, Abrams wanted me to bring the camera back to our hero, still reeling from the shock of the explosion.

Needless to say, that's a lot of choreography for a pretty short shot. To add to the complexity, I would need to add an explosive camera shake to the shot (in reaction to the massive explosion behind Hunt).

Here is the shot as it appeared in the film:

watch on Vimeo

Here were my specific ideas for the camera moves for the shot:

• I was simulating the look of a handheld camera operator sitting atop a dolly, which gives us the smooth movement backwards with all of the energy of handheld.
• Because of the handheld nature of the shot, I made sure to maintain generally 'proper' framing, but also keep it active and chaotic, and allow Hunt's head to break frame from time to time.
• At the head of the shot, when we're still zoomed in tight on Hunt, I made sure to make the camera bobble realistically amplified, which is what you would see in a real-life camera shake with a long lens. Because the field of view is so tiny, even small camera bumps are seen as giant waves of movement. Of course, after the crash zoom out, I made sure to diminish the intensity of the camera bumps.
• On the crash zoom out, I made sure that the zoom and the pan/tilt readjustments that I would make post-zoom were not simultaneous. In real life, the operator zooms out, and then needs to make a split-second decision on framing. It's subtle, but it's there.


• On the explosive camera shake, I had to juggle two challenges which were at odds with one another. I had to make sure that the camera shake did not distort the image to a degree that we would somehow miss the important point of the shot - that the actor is doing his own stunt. This was a very important emotional beat to the shot; I didn't want the audience to think that I was tricking them, or hiding something with an over-the-top camera shake (which audiences, sadly, see all the time). I also had to make sure that the shake was appropriate for a giant explosion that was strong enough to blow an actor off of his feet, smashing into a parked car with such velocity that it shatters its rear window. If anything, I erred on the side of preserving the readability of the shot. Besides, all of the other effects I added (the dust shockwave, manually animating the briefcase across the ground, etc.) helped sell the intensity of the explosion.
• After Hunt hits the car, I wanted to tilt down with his body to achieve a better composition, but notice how I am just a bit late on the tilt. Keeping the tilt just a beat late gives the shot a bit of authenticity, as if the cameraman was operating the camera live, and didn't know exactly where his body would be at any particular time.

• On the UAV flyby, I tried to mimic a camera operator who could see the UAV out of the corner of his eye, and just barely was able to frame for the fast moving jet. And, if you look carefully, we never really get a good composition of the UAV at all, which was fine with us, since the UAV's flyby was an accent to the shot, not the main driving force of the shot.
• Finally, on the pan/tilt back to Hunt and the burning truck, I wanted to impart the energy of a camera operator who carefully rests the camera on his original framing, doing a bit of work to get the proper framing.

Ultimately, the biggest challenge for me was animating a camera shake for the explosion that was big enough to logically fit with the action (a human being blown off his feet), and yet not obscure the action and the big selling point of the shot, which is that Tom Cruise performed his own stunt. Abrams wanted the audience to truly feel what Agent Hunt was going through, to see the anguish on his face, and see what happens to his body after this amazing event.

Integral to this whole process was creating an organic, naturalistic camera move that complemented the rest of the film, and helped sell the spontaneity and reality of the situation.

Playing With Expectations

I love filmmakers who don't feel the need to sink their film to the lowest common denominator; filmmakers who, even within the context of a blockbuster-type film, give their audience a bit of credit for their intelligence. These writers and directors accept the fact that they are working within a framework of expectations - not simply the expectations of the traditional Hollywood narrative structure, but genre-specific elements for which audiences have become accustomed.

Of particular interest to me are little phrases and lines that you fully expect to hear coming from characters' mouths that don't happen onscreen. The filmmaker knows you're expecting it, and takes that expectation and turns it into something more interesting.

What am I talking about? Here are three basic examples.

The first is from the prologue of "Casino Royale," Martin Campbell's brilliant 2006 reboot of the James Bond franchise.


Let's exclusively examine the dialogue for a moment.

Dryden: If M was so sure I was bent, she'd have sent a double-oh. Benefits of being section chief. I'd know if anyone had been promoted to double-oh status, wouldn't I? Your file shows no kills, and it takes...
James Bond: Two. [cuts to Bond fighting Dryden's contact]
Dryden: Shame. We barely got to know each other. [Dryden pulls the trigger, but no bullet is fired]
Bond: I know where you keep your gun. I suppose that's something.
Dryden: True. How did he die?
James Bond: Your contact? Not well.
Dryden: Made you feel it, did he? Well, you needn't worry. The second is... [Bond shoots Dryden]
James Bond: Yes... considerably.

Firstly, admire the incredible efficiency of this dialogue. There are so few words, and yet a complicated story is being told on several levels, and nearly every line advances the story and gives us new information about these characters. Both characters understand what's going on-- these fellas are smart. Director Campbell and writers Neal Purvis, Robert Wade and Paul Haggis are assuming that the audience is smart enough to realize that these characters are smart. They both know what each other is scheming. Bond is finishing Dryden's sentences. Dryden realizes Bond is there to kill him. Bond knows that Dryden knows that Bond is there to kill him (why else would he have surreptitiously disarmed Dryden?).

After Dryden shows some compassion for Bond ("Made you feel it, did he?"), he gives cold comfort to Bond, intending to tell him that his second kill would be easier. But Bond, just as he finished Dryden's sentence for him earlier, cuts him off with a bullet. The audience didn't need to hear Dryden say the full line: "The second is easier." Bond didn't need to hear it, either. We all knew it was coming. And the authors of the film gave us enough credit, rewarding us for actually paying attention to the dialogue (with a suprising, intense and explosive reaction from Bond, cutting off Dryden's dialogue, and shooting him dead), and not giving us a cliched, cheesy, needlessly excessive line of dialogue. For this kind of sly writing to appear in a Bond film, a film series that virtually pioneered the 'talking villain' cliche, this is especially refreshing. (For a description of Roger Ebert's 'The Fallacy of the Talking Killer," read his review of "Licence to Kill.") On another level, by literally cutting off the villain's cliched line, the filmmakers are slyly telling us that this is not your ordinary James Bond film, that they will be literally cutting off the obvious cliches of the genre.

The audience is further rewarded with Bond's post-shooting response of, simply, "Yes. Considerably." How easy could it have been for Bond to respond with "... easier? Yes. It is considerably easier." In this elegant and efficient way, we see Bond emerging as a double-oh, evolving from an inexperienced agent who actually felt some emotion during his first kill to a cold-blooded, emotionless weapon. All within just a few minutes of screen time, and with only a few lines of dialogue.

As an aside, notice the ultra-fast flash frames and whip pan that occurs as Bond ultimately shoots Dryden. A few frames of a family photo on Dryden's desk appear for a split second, almost subconsciously giving the audience a sense of Dryden's humanity, just as he's being shot dead. Once again, this is a remarkable feat for a Bond film; most Bond films are quick to paint their villains as one-note, two-dimensional cutouts.

Another example comes from J.J. Abrams' "Mission: Impossible III," also from 2006. Please note: the clip and discussion below contain spoilers for the film. Skip to the "Ratatouille" section if you haven't yet seen "MI3."


Davian (Philip Seymour Hoffman), just as we saw in the amazing and disorientating prologue to the film, has a gun to Julia's head (Michelle Monaghan). Agent Hunt (Tom Cruise) is doing all he can to convince Davian not to pull the trigger, while tied to a chair across from them. At a certain point, he realizes that Davian cannot be won over. Hunt's tone immediately changes from frenetic and panicked into an almost calm, solemness, as if he is resigned that her fate has already been sealed. "No," he whispers. "No." Davian finishes his countdown, "Ten," and pulls the trigger.

The look of resignation and Hunt's sad, whispered "No," speaks volumes. We get to feel the complex emotions going on inside Hunt, where all optimism is lost, and, even before the shot is fired, Hunt is already mourning the loss of his wife. Not only is this a good example of intelligent writing, but also of an extraordinarily nuanced performance by Cruise.

The camera lingers on Hunt's face of disbelief after Davian pulls the trigger. He's thinking, 'why is this happening? I just retrieved the Rabbit's Foot for Davian... why was he asking me where it is?' But without a word, he simply stares off. Behind him, Davian retreats to another room, talking with a mysterious person. The camera remains on Hunt, but we see the men in the background and we hear whispers. The mystery man enters the room. We cut to Hunt's near-POV, a closeup of his dead 'wife.' Then, Agent Musgrave (Billy Crudup) interrupts his gaze - for a moment, he's out of focus (since we were focused on Hunt's wife), but he slowly becomes sharp, and we realize that Musgrave has been working with Davian the whole time. He stares at us, we're staring at him... Hunt says nothing, but we're all thinking, "How could this be? How could this be?!"

Answering an unasked question, Musgrave finally says, "It's complicated."

We really didn't need to hear Hunt ask, "Why?" or "How?" It was implied, and instead of a completely predictable dialog between characters, we get the almost jolting answer to a question we were all thinking.

And, if the reader may indulge me, watch how carefully this scene is crafted. Director Abrams doesn't just cut to Musgrave sitting down, quickly rack focusing on him, and have him say his line. This is a big moment in the movie, and the timing needs to be just right to convey the magnitude of this moment-- the reveal of the big betrayal.

For one, offscreen, Musgrave throws a chair down, then calmly sits, blocking our view. For several beats, he's out of focus, visually mimicking Hunt's disorientation. Slowly we come to realize that it's Musgrave, and slowly he becomes in focus. Allowing this moment to soak in, another few beats pass before he says his line. This is about drawing out the suspense, putting the audience in Hunt's shoes. ("MI3" is, essentially, a film that follows Hunt's point-of-view for the duration of the entire film. I'll hopefully be writing about POV films at a future time.)

But the nice touch that I most appreciate about this scene is in regards to the camera movement. Just after Davian fires, we have a wide two-shot of Hunt and his wife, where the camera is to Hunt's left. We cut to an extreme closeup of Hunt's bewildered face, while the camera slowly dollys right to left, including a moment where Hunt's wife's head blocks the entire view of the camera. We continue dollying to reveal the men behind Hunt. As the camera settles, we realize that Hunt's view of the world is changing, and his disorientation and befuddlement is going to take another hit, when Musgrave is revealed to be a traitor. The rest of the scene between Hunt and Musgrave occurs with a shot-reverse-shot sequence with the camera stationed on Hunt's right side.

What happened here? The camera crossed the 180 degree line. To establish a sense of orientation and understanding of a scene, particularly a scene with two characters talking to each other, the camera needs to stay on one side of the imaginary line that is created between the two characters. The camera, even within shot-reverse-shot sequences, needs to stay consistently on a single side, so that the scene is grounded for the viewer. The result: the audience is constantly oriented and understands the action.

If the camera moves to the other side of that line, especially in a cut, the audience is immediately disoriented. "Our hero has just spent the entire scene talking to a character to the left... and now our hero is on the right? Wait, what happened?" This can be used for dramatic effect (for example, Ang Lee's "Hulk" used this device often, frequently cutting to cameras on either side of the 180 degree line, to create a constant sense of uneasiness), but in traditional Hollywood narrative filmmaking, this practice is frowned upon.

However, if you literally show the camera breaking the line in an uninterrupted shot, you can set up a new orientation of the scene properly. Plus, emotionally, the break of the line causes the viewer to realize that something is changing, something is different, something is disorienting, which is exactly the kind of emotion director Abrams was trying to evoke for this scene in "MI3." In our case, the camera slowly dollys across the 180 degree line in an uninterrupted shot, subtly giving the audience an extra, almost subconscious level of disorientation.

Here is a good illustration of the 180 degree rule, in a YouTube video created by Moviemaking Techniques:


And here's another YouTube video, explaining the same concepts in a different way.

Let's get back to writing. Here's a clip from Brad Bird's "Ratatouille," and look for two things: a moment where the camera answers a question that a character asks, and a moment where a character doesn't get to finish his thought.


Emile doesn't need to complete his entire thought - long before the lightning struck, we knew what he was going to say. But the gag comes from the fact that the setup is really subtle. Remy is obsessing about cooking his cheese and mushroom, while Emile looks around nervously. In the deep background, we barely see flashes of lightning, with some eventual soft thunder behind it. The joke is that the storm arrived at their location so quickly, Emile couldn't even finish his thought. It's a quick, basic physical gag of the movie, and screenwriter/director Brad Bird takes what he can get out of it, then quickly moves on.

Imagine how, say, the lazy screenwriters of any Dreamworks animated film would have staged this type of scene. First a wide shot of the deliberately approaching storm. Then, some pop-culture-laced riffs between two animated characters who look exactly like their celebrity voice counterparts. One of them says, "Hey, maybe we should get off this roof, dawg! Let's go shopping at Old Wavy while sipping a Coral Cola! " And then ZAP! they get struck by lightning, and 'hilarity' ensues.

The "Casino Royale," "MI3" and "Ratatouille" clips are examples of intelligent screenwriters playing with the expectations of a clever audience. Of course, this technique of toying with cliches and turning them into something more interesting only works in the hands of truly innovative filmmakers. Here's an example of the technique falling flat, from Bryan Singer's "Superman Returns."


Yeah... it doesn't really work here. In a film filled with land mines, this is a small firecracker. The entire film is so hopelessly lost and devoid of purpose or heart, and this scene is illustrative of that fact. The ploy of illustrating Luthor's expectation of Lane's line "Superman will never let you get away with this!" is overplayed, and hammed up to such an extent that its power is lost.

Are there any other cinematic examples of this phenomenon that you can think of? Where filmmakers assume the audience knows a line or cliche that is coming, and then they turn that cliche on its head and deliver something more interesting?

Alex Jaeger Article

CG Society is running a new article on Alex Jaeger, ILM's art director for "Transformers." Alex had the difficult job of interpreting the flat design artwork done by Michael Bay's production team, translating it into fully three dimensional transforming robots. Alex is an incredible artist, and a great colleague.

We worked together on "Hulk" for a very short time, and then on "Mission: Impossible III" last year, which was a blast. Alex pumped out an enormous amount of work for "Transformers," and he was a fantastic collaborator; he could easily talk to compositors, technical directors, matte artists, and communicate on the same level. It's always fun trading ideas back and forth with Alex.

He is one of the reasons "Transformers" looks so damn cool.

Read the full article here, and read his blog posting about the article here.

Hey, I Know That Shot!

Peter Litwinowicz and Pierre Jasmin picked up Oscars at the 2006 Scientific & Technical Academy Awards. I've been using their software for years on countless films, and have been a big fan of their software. I was honored to be a reference for them during the application process, and thrilled when they won.

This is just one of many shots that I've used RE:Vision Effects software. In the last few years, I've used Twixtor, Warp, and their other After Effects plugins on "Pirates of the Caribbean: Dead Man's Chest" (dude getting yanked by the Kraken), "Mission: Impossible III" (Tom being thrown in to a car) and "Star Wars: Episode III" (Anakin becoming char-broiled). And it was a real nice surprise to see the shot appear during the Oscar telecast, beside host Maggie Gyllenhaal.

A hearty congratulations to Peter and Pierre and their teams. You guys rock.

Oh, and ILM's very own Florian Katz, Steve Sullivan, Colin Davidson, Max Chen and Francesco Callari picked up Sci-Tech Oscars, too. Swzeet.

Sound Design: "Mr. and Mrs. Smith" and "Mission: Impossible III"

The finest sound designs for features contain a delicate balance between silence and volume. You'll find the most pleasing, interesting and dynamic sound designs are not from films whose soundtrack relentlessly pounds its audience into submission. Garbled, intrusive and assaulting, these films tire audiences, distracting them from a story (or lack thereof).

I can vividly remember the experience of seeing "Armageddon" (1998) in a theater... and I'd prefer to forget it. The final three reels of that film contain a nonstop onslaught of volume - an uncompromising crowded sonic landscape of screams, shouts, gunfire, an overwhelming Trevor Rabin score, and comet-related sound effects. The sound design of "Armageddon" is one of many reasons why this film is nearly unwatchable.

In color, you can enhance the perception of saturation by juxtaposing colors, as you can with shapes and size. (There are literally hundreds of books on this issue, but my current favorite book on this topic is Vision and Art: The Biology of Seeing). What many filmmakers forget is that the same is true for sound. One way to make sure a soundscape is not muddled and overwhelming is to simplify the mix. This is especially difficult for modern action pictures which, by their very nature, are over the top and outrageous. And most of these directors know one sound cue: "loud."

However, the greats of modern sound design know better, and use their talents to create rich, unique soundscapes that enhance the story and characters. My personal favorites in this field are Ben Burtt, Gary Rydstrom and Randy Thom-- the rock stars of modern sound design.

(If you're interested in an interesting and unique film soundtrack, watch David Lynch's "Wild At Heart" (1990), containing sound design by Randy Thom. The sound effects over the ultra-slow motion macro photography of matches being lit are extraordinary.)

Here is one example of a technique that helps create a sonic exclamation point. Ironically, it has everything to do with silence.

Presented are two clips, one from the climax of a chase sequence from "Mr. and Mrs. Smith" (2005), and another from "Mission: Impossible III" (2006), which features Ethan Hunt parachuting between skyscrapers of Shanghai. I've split the screen to feature a visual representation of the sound waveform and its spectrum (lows to highs), to help illustrate my point.

Watch the clips, then rewatch them again, keeping an eye on the waveforms.

direct link to YouTube
Firstly, notice how clean these mixes are, especially considering the visual chaos that happens alongside the soundscape. Secondly, the precise and deliberate use of momentary silence in these clips is profoundly relevant to the emotional impact of the scenes.

The "Mr. and Mrs. Smith" Clip
The climax of this exciting action scene features a sound design that is truly unique. The sequence presented is the denouement of one of the film's action setpieces, and clearly, the soundscape for this little bit of action was carefully crafted to hurl an emotional punch. Each phase of the action has a distinct cadence and rhythm, and the individual moments are clearly defined and crisp. Listen to the sound mix again, this time with your eyes closed.

The soundscape has a deliberate pace. A few things stand out; for one, the sound of Jane Smith's (Angelina Jolie) gun is not cliche and is unique. The effect is not the same one we've heard hundreds of times before; it's distinctive. The 'bang' is relatively muted, perhaps specially recorded and designed specifically for this film. Considering the large variety of weapons used in the film, and the relatively large budget of the film itself, an effort could have been placed on creating a new library of gun sound effects.

Each bullet's impact against the cars is clearly heard, with very little rumbling underneath the staccato piercings, which make them stand out even more. The same is true for a wide shot of a tire that bounces off the roadway near the camera; this exaggerated sound effect (resembling the sound of something more bouncey, like a dodge ball) is not competing with underlying sound, so its impact is guaranteed to be felt.

However, the aspect of the sequence that intrigues me the most is the sound design for the shot from inside the minivan. At that moment, almost all of the sound is muted, almost to a point that would be (gasp!) realistic in nature. Notice what happens when we cut to the shot inside the minivan -- for just a beat, the sonic world takes a breath. You can clearly see this with the visual waveform. Instead of a steady onslaught of intense aural information, the audience is allowed to 'reset' for a moment. This brilliant technique makes the next few shots that much more powerful.
A nice touch is the prominent and clearly audible sound of the minivan's transmission. The distinctive sound of a car speeding in reverse is amped up and featured, without being muddled by distracting peripheral noise.

In regards to music, notice how the musical score crescendos just before Jane's heroic moments, then remains completely silent throughout the duration of the action. When we return to a two shot of our heroes, the music cuts back to the diegetic sound of the car radio, tinninly playing a cheesy Air Supply love song. The tune actually mirrors how the scene began - with John Smith (Brad Pitt) singing along with the track.

In addition, this little sequence brilliantly illustrates how a film editor can extend the real-time duration of an event to triple or quadruple its original length. Notice how the complicated stunt, which occurs in a fraction of a second in real-time, takes place over several seconds in the final edited sequence.

Props go out to Cameron Frankley, "Mr. and Mrs. Smith"'s sound supervisor for the film, and his team.

The "Mission: Impossible III" Clip
With all of the action in this scene, it could be quite tempting to layer the Michael Giacchino score over all of the gunfire, breaking glass, and parachute sound effects. However, notice what director J.J. Abrams does just before Ethan Hunt (Tom Cruise) breaks through the window.

After a series of cuts from outside the building, building to a nice crescendo of music and sound effects, we cut to a shot inside the building. For a split second, all sound has been muted. Then, after barely a beat, Ethan blasts through the glass. In the theatre, this little sequence had an amazing impact, and it is that brief moment of silence that makes the CRASH of the impact that much more impressive. The silence allows the CRASH to be a sonic exclamation point. Without that brief pause in the soundscape, the emotional punch of the scene would have to be supported by the visuals alone - with the soundtrack providing only a numbing chorus of volume.
"Mission: Impossible III"'s excellent sound team includes Andy Nelson, Anna Behlmer, Mark Stoeckinger, Alan Rankin; props to them and their entire team.

Sound designers are the unsung heroes of modern action films. When a director with actual talent works closely with experienced sound designers and film editors, a soundtrack can be created that precisely complements all of the hard work of the stunt coordinators, special effects crews, and visual effects teams.

"Mr. and Mrs. Smith" (c) 2005 Fox, "Mission: Impossible III" (c) 2006 Paramount

• link: Film Sound Design, the art and analysis of film and television sound design
• link: NPR Interview with Walter Murch, one of the great film and sound editors

Fox is Awesome

Happening this morning on Fox News Channel:

Brian Wilson of Fox News Channel's "Weekend Live" news program is devoting a segment to the "American Idol" phenomenon. He's interviewing Kimberly Caldwell, the host of "Idol Tonight," a show on the TVGuide Channel that solely covers "American Idol."

Did you get all that? Fox-owned Fox News is interviewing a woman who works for a Fox-owned channel (TVGuide Channel) and Fox-owned magazine (TVGuide) about a show that is on the Fox network. And this is all occurring on a News channel.

It's kinda like when Pat O'Brien gets an 'exclusive' interview with Tom Cruise just before the release of "M:i:III" on "Entertainment Tonight," which is preceeded by an ad for "M:i:III" on a CBS affiliate. Did you see what happened there? Ever single piece is owned by Paramount/Viacom. "ET" itself, the very station that it is airing on, the advertisement, and "M:i:III" itself are all controlled by a single entity.

Don't you think it's strange that Harry Potter has been on the cover of Entertainment Weekly, oh, seven hundred and twenty two times? You wouldn't think it is strange when you realize that Time Warner owns both E.W. and the Harry Potter film and book franchise.

For Your Consideration: "M:i:III"

Wow - this was a nice surprise. Happening now on page 10 of Cinefex 108:From Paramount/Cruise-Wagner, a "For Your Consideration" ad for "Mission: Impossible III."

• Visual Effects Supervisor: Roger Guyett
• ILM Associate Visual Effects Supervisor: Russell Earl
• Digital Production Manager: Patrick Tubach
• Special Effects Coordinator: Dan Sudick

Hey, I know that shot! Here's my still immature "Mission: Impossible III" page.