I’m pleased to be teaching Writing for Multimedia this fall in my role as a graduate teaching fellow at the School of Journalism and Mass Communication, University of Oregon. I had originally created this blog two years ago as a resource for students, while teaching documentary filmmaking at Oregon State University. It covers a wide variety of genres of digital nonfiction storytelling.
I’m enthused to begin posting commentaries again, designed to support media arts students in developing their skills.
I advise students to commit time to viewing well-crafted digital nonfiction stories. It’s essential to look at good work — as well as bad work. Often it takes several viewings to deconstruct a storytellers’ aesthetic approach, and to ascertain — in fine detail — why a particular story works or doesn’t.
You are committing yourself to learning a new vocabulary — the language of visual aesthetics. Overtime, you will gain confidence in applying this language in your own work.
In future posts, I will be sharing my views on specific stories. Inevitably, you may disagree, or catch subtleties and nuances in a storyteller’s technique that I’ve missed. Such is the nature of the creative process. Stories, good, bad, and ugly are open to multiple interpretations, in terms of their effectiveness.
It’s important to study the great filmmakers and storytellers. Feature filmmakers like Martin Scorsese and Steven Spielberg often talk about the amount of time and energy they’ve spent researching and screening the works of the masters.
The documentary art form has its legends, although some of them are controversial. During World War II Hitler commissioned Leni Riefenstahl, his own documentarian, to capture his propagandized vision of Germany’s place in the world. Hitler recognized the tremendous power of imagery and sound when projected on a big screen, and its ability to influence the masses.
“Triumph of the Will” is widely recognized as Riefenstahl’s most impressive work. She ventured outside the boundaries of conventional filmmaking by experimenting with camera movement and bold aesthetic values that hadn’t been seen before.
Understandably, Riefenstahl’s legacy remains tainted by the fact that she allowed her talent to serve the brutal agenda of the Nazi regime. However, her work remains significant. She was the first woman documentary filmmaker to receive international acclaim.
Hitler later commissioned Riefenstahl to document the Olympic Games in Berlin. The result was the 1938 film “Olympia,” which also demonstrates her visionary filmmaking prowess. Riefenstahl also traveled to Greece and incorporated footage of the games’ original site. Two techniques that she is noted for include the use of slow motion and tracking shots.
Financing your project can seem like a daunting task. However, the Internet is providing new options for creative people to connect with prospective investors and contributors. I recently learned of a site called kickstarter.com, which allows users to showcase their projects and collect funds. The service takes a 5% fee on all transactions. I can’t say that I’ve used the service, but they’ve received some good write ups and you might want to check it out.
The first thing to note about filmmaker Ken Burns is that he’s distinguished himself as the genre’s preeminent historical storyteller. Few others share his name recognition and high level of prestige. It’s not the Burns was the first to make historical nonfiction films. His legacy is that he’s successfully tackled subject matter that holds great interest with audiences. His films on the Civil War, baseball, and jazz resonate with viewers and command ratings.
Ken Burns is also a brilliant marketer. When you watch him speak about his projects he evokes a sense of passion that is infectious.
Burns was also not the first to use the technique of camera movement on still images, yet he is so associated with that method of presenting photographs that Apple Computer labeled the technique “the Ken Burns effect” in their popular iMovie software program.
Burns has a lot to teach us in terms of stylistic approaches and documentary conventions. In films like “The Civil War” he uses old letters and diaries from deceased soldiers that are read by actors as though their autobiographical diary entries. Combined with vintage archival photographs and just the right use of music he creates a highly effective story.
In terms of looking at how you might approach making historical documentaries there are many factors to consider. First it’s important to realize that it’s a genre that can be quite costly. Archival images can cost as much as $200-$300 apiece. Of course there are images that are in the public domain or that may be the private property of your subjects.
Another valuable lesson from Burns is how he chooses to structure his stories. Notice in this clip from Ken Burn’s “Jazz” how he opens with the use of simple stills and a compelling voiceover from trumpeter Wynton Marsalis. The choice of Marsalis is a smart one because he has wide appeal and expresses such a high level of passion about the art form. Burns opens with what we often call a teaser, which is basically a short set up before the opening titles that is designed to draw the audience into the story.
Burns has so effectively positioned himself as the leading historical documentarian that he is able to juggle several major projects simultaneously. He has entire teams of filmmakers and editors under his direction. However, all of the work carries his personal stamp and style.
Two of the most successful personalities in the documentary genre at the moment are Sacha Baron Cohen and Michael Moore. Although Cohen makes what could be considered satirical “mockumentaries,” in the sense that he’s playing a character. Moore fashions himself as “the people’s journalist.” However, many would argue that he is also playing a role.
Cohen’s approach is to take highly charged issues like racism and homophobia and, using humor, to essentially confront people with them in their own settings. Michael Moore practices what’s known as “ambush reporting.” He’ll walk, unannounced, right up to the door of a major corporation and demand to speak with the CEO.
There are differences and similarities when you compare Cohen’s work to that of Michael Moore’s. The similarity is often that both filmmakers have a definite political or ideological agenda when they go out with a camera crew — and they use comedy to make their point.
Some of Cohen’s subjects assert that they were duped into participating in his films. They fell for the ruse that was was in fact a legitimate journalist from Kazakhstan or, in the case of Bruno, a fashion designer from Austria. In fact, some have even attempted to sue him.
What’s interesting is that both of these filmmakers have become so famous that they’re losing their ability to use the element of surprise in their work.
