The Cinematography Podcast

The Cinematography Podcast Episode 347: director Natasha Kermani and DP Julia Swain

In the medieval horror film The Dreadful, director Natasha Kermani and cinematographer Julia Swain transport audiences to the brutal landscapes of the Dark Ages. The independent film shot in Cornwall, England over 17 winter days.

Key Podcast Highlights:
-Development: Kermani spent years crafting the folkloric tale, prioritizing a "gothic storybook" aesthetic that blends historical iconography with psychological dread.
-The Power of Partnership: Kermani and Swain have collaborated on several projects. Early on, they worked together to map out the film’s framing, lens choices and color story.
-Practical Immersion: The crew built a practical cottage set on location, allowing for seamless camera movement between the interior hearth and dark forest.
-Embracing the Elements: Filmed in the dead of winter, the production utilized the low December sun and natural ambiance to create an authentic, oppressive atmosphere without the use of hard, artificial lighting.

Find Natasha Kermani: Instagram @natakerm

Find Julia Swain: Instagram @juliaswain

See The Dreadful in theaters and on VOD now.

SHOW RUNDOWN:
01:59 Close Focus
14:23-01:03:57 Natasha Kermani and Julia Swain Interview
01:04:43 Short ends
01:09:24 Wrap up/Credits

The Cinematography Podcast website: www.camnoir.com
YouTube: @TheCinematographyPodcast
Facebook: @cinepod
Instagram: @thecinepod
Blue Sky: @thecinepod.bsky.social

The Cinematography Podcast Special: Frederick Wiseman

With the passing of documentarian Frederick Wiseman, here is a re-release of our 2020 interview. He discusses City Hall, Titticut Follies, High School and more. Wiseman was a prolific filmmaker, making 45 films over 50 years. 

Wiseman's family and Zipporah Films kindly request that you support your local PBS affiliate or independent bookstore in Frederick Wiseman’s memory.

Frederick Wiseman has proven that, in his words, “If you hang around long enough, you can collect enough material and cut a dramatic narrative film out of real life.” A Frederick Wiseman documentary has a very specific style- no narration, no identifying lower-third captions, no interviews and no camera movement. The viewer simply watches the story unfold as a slice of life. The subject is usually a mundane, everyday institution that many might simply overlook.

Wiseman feels his films are not merely observational, but that he actively makes decisions on how to sculpt them into a narrative during the editing process. He enjoys making documentary films because he finds comedy and drama exist in ordinary life, just as much as anyone would find in fiction. Wiseman shies away from the terms “documentary” and “cinema verité”- he thinks the term "movie" is good enough because “documentary” is something that sounds like it's supposed to be good for you.

For Wiseman's film, City Hall, he had the idea that recording what happens in a city hall would be a good inside look into the machinery of how a city runs. Boston City Hall happened to be the only one that gave him permission. A staffer of the mayor had seen his films and liked the idea. Unlike some of Wiseman's other movies, Boston mayor Marty Walsh was a central character- as the leader of the city, he is very involved in seeing that it runs smoothly.

Before he became a director, Wiseman was a lawyer and law school teacher. He always wanted to be a director, but had no experience with movies. He saw an opportunity to become a producer when he optioned a novel called The Cool World and asked director Shirley Clark to helm it, which helped demystify the process for him.

Wiseman's first documentary, 1967's Titticut Follies, was about the Bridgewater Prison for the Criminally Insane. He knew the warden from his years as a lawyer and was able to get permission to shoot at the facility and gain access to the inmates. His next film, High School was released in 1968. "After shooting in a prison for the insane, high school seemed to be the next logical progression," he jokes.

Part of Wiseman's process is to find the film as he shoots, venturing forth purposefully blind and with little preparation. For him, it all emerges in the editing process. Wiseman always does his own editing and watches each piece of footage-generally about 150 hours of it- to decide how to structure each sequence.

Find Frederick Wiseman's documentaries. You can see almost all of Wiseman's documentaries on Kanopy for free with your library card.

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The Cinematography Podcast Episode 346: Adolpho Veloso, ABC, AIP

The film Train Dreams tells a story that feels less like a narrative and more like a memory. It began as an independent project that premiered at Sundance to critical acclaim before getting acquired by Netflix. Director Clint Bentley and cinematographer Adolpho Veloso, ABC, AIP, chose to shoot in the rugged landscapes of the Pacific Northwest. Veloso's radical commitment to naturalism in the film meant relying almost entirely on firelight, candlelight and natural light. The gorgeous result has earned him an Academy Award nomination for Best Cinematography.

After their successful collaboration on the low-budget indie movie Jockey, Veloso and director Clint Bentley knew a tiny crew and small group of actors could lead to good, intimate storytelling. They developed a specific visual shorthand designed to make Train Dreams feel like a discovered artifact. They chose a 3:2 aspect ratio, a deliberate nod to still photography, intended to evoke the sensation of looking through a dusty box of old family photos. “We wanted the movie to feel like memories, like finding a box of pictures,” explains Veloso. “The whole visual motif came from still images and still photography in a way.”

Using a single, handheld ARRI ALEXA 35 camera operated by Veloso allowed the actors freedom to improvise and move naturally, often capturing moments that a more rigid, multi-camera setup would have missed. To maintain a clear narrative thread through Robert's (Joel Edgerton) life, Veloso established visual rules using specific lighting shifts to distinguish between the warmth of Robert’s good memories and the starker, haunting quality of his loss.

Grounding the film in nature was extremely important. The team scoured Washington state, looking for woods that appeared untouched by time, yet remained accessible enough for a film crew. They shot around the Spokane area, where the drier weather and specific light quality offered the perfect backdrop for the film’s mid-century setting. Working in national forests meant strict regulations with a small footprint, and timber cutting and axe work was carefully planned.

Using almost entirely firelight, candlelight and natural light is very nontraditional filmmaking, and required a great deal of planning from all departments. For the two sets, the cabin and fire tower, Veloso spent weeks tracking solar orientation. The crew carefully built the cabin to exact specifications to allow plenty of light into the space. “You have the privilege to build it the way you want,” Veloso explains. “It’s a lot of studies of what the sun is doing from week one to week seven. You have to decide where to place the windows so the light continuity holds as the seasons shift.”

The most interesting technical choice was the total ban on LED lighting for period scenes. Veloso wanted the authentic flicker and color temperature of the era, but candles alone often create harsh, distracting shadows. To solve this, the team engineered a “1920s Sky Panel.” This custom rig used large reflective surfaces combined with candles and diffusion to create a soft, glowing light source that felt period-accurate yet flattering on the actors' faces. This required a constant dance between the camera and the art department. Candles, oil lamps, firelight, and campfires had to be good quality light to expose the image properly. For campfire scenes, the gaffer measured light levels in real-time, signaling the fire safety monitor to add wood precisely when the "exposure" needed a boost.

A devastating forest fire at the film's climax required a shift from the naturalistic to the surreal. To capture the flames and feeling of a real forest fire, the production moved to an LED volume stage. Robert is dreaming about what happened in the fire, so the fire scene had to be strange and surreal. Veloso shot at a low frame rate with a wide shutter to create a blurred, fever dream aesthetic. The crew also shot in previously burned forests, capturing the aftermath of a real fire.

Through Veloso's lens, Train Dreams is a tactile, flickering meditation on time itself.

Find Adolpho Veloso: https://www.adolphoveloso.com/
Instagram: @adolphoveloso

Watch Train Dreams on Netflix

Support Ben's short film, The Ultimate Breakup! https://www.kickstarter.com/projects/theultimatebreakup/the-ultimate-breakup-short-film?ref=nav_search&result=project&term=the%20ultimate%20breakup&total_hits=2

The Cinematography Podcast website: www.camnoir.com
YouTube: @TheCinematographyPodcast
Facebook: @cinepod
Instagram: @thecinepod
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The Cinematography Podcast Episode 345: Sean Bobbitt

In the landscape of post-apocalyptic cinema, few franchises carry as much visual baggage as the 28 Days Later franchise. Known for pioneering the "fast zombie" and the gritty, digital lo-fi aesthetic of the early 2000s, the series has always found a novel visual approach for every entry. For the latest installment, 28 Years Later: The Bone Temple, cinematographer Sean Bobbitt, BSC, faced a unique challenge: honoring the jagged zombie movement of the franchise while carving out a look that feels entirely new.

While 28 Years Later was shot on iPhones and set its own tone, Bobbitt was determined to make The Bone Temple stand apart. The goal was to capture a duality within the setting. Dr. Kelson (Ralph Fiennes) has created a special space within The Bone Temple, where the chaos parts around him. Bobbitt explains, “We just wanted to highlight the fact that this was a place of peace and tranquility, and acceptance, but also bonkers madness by using much more traditional cinematic techniques and a much slower camera.”

However, the film doesn't sacrifice the kinetic energy the series is known for. To capture the fights between the infected and a group known as the "Jimmies," Bobbitt used the ARRI Trinity camera system. By using a gyro-stabilized remote head mounted on a Steadicam rig, they created a fluid, immersive way for the camera to navigate the chaos with 360-degree movement.

The trademark jagged movement and speed of the infected is created by using a narrower shutter angle. A typical shutter angle is 180 degrees for natural motion blur, while the 28 franchise uses a narrower 90-degree, or even 45-degree shutter angle. Bobbitt expanded the signature shutter settings to apply to the Jimmies, a visual way to represent the thin, blurring line between the humans and the zombies. “There are all sorts of statements being made about humankind,” in The Bone Temple, says Bobbitt. “There's a lot of humanity and humor in the script which drew me to it.”

Director Nia DaCosta and Bobbitt have a history that dates back several years. They first met on a Steve McQueen film set where DaCosta was a production assistant whose job was driving Bobbitt to and from work. Bobbitt enjoyed her first feature, Little Woods, and went on to DP both The Marvels and Hedda with her. “She's a great writer, a great director and the epitome of collaboration,” he says.

Their process involves a meticulous long prep, with extensive shot-listing and storyboarding. Bobbitt prefers the intimacy of a single-camera setup, which he usually operates himself, even on large films. On the Yorkshire set, he pre-lit the entire space, enabling the actors to have the freedom to move without being tethered to specific marks. "The lighting informs actors," Bobbitt explains. "I try to light it as it should be, based upon my understanding of the emotion of the scene and discussions with the director." Rehearsals are key for Bobbitt to make lighting adjustments for close-ups, while the actors feel comfortable and immersed in the world of the story.

Interestingly, The Bone Temple is Bobbitt’s first foray into the horror genre. As a former documentary and news cameraman, he says, “Horror to me is a real thing. It is actual dead bodies, and the horror of what humanity can do to each other. That is embedded in my soul forever, what I've witnessed.”

Bobbitt found a deep connection to the script's humanity and humor. The appeal of the 28 franchise for him is that it isn't just about monsters; it’s a human story about the horrors people inflict on one another. By bringing a documentary-trained eye to a fictional apocalypse, Bobbitt has crafted a film that respects the technical demands of the genre while never losing sight of the human pulse at its center.

See 28 Years Later: The Bone Temple streaming on digital soon.

Hear our previous interview with Sean Bobbitt:
https://www.camnoir.com/ep114/

Support Ben's short film, The Ultimate Breakup! https://www.kickstarter.com/projects/theultimatebreakup/the-ultimate-breakup-short-film?ref=nav_search&result=project&term=the%20ultimate%20breakup&total_hits=2

The Cinematography Podcast website: www.camnoir.com
YouTube: @TheCinematographyPodcast
Facebook: @cinepod
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Blue Sky: @thecinepod.bsky.social

The Cinematography Podcast Episode 344: Russell Carpenter

When cinematographer Russell Carpenter began working on Avatar: The Way of Water and Avatar: Fire and Ash concurrently, he knew stepping into the world of Pandora would be a much different production environment. Carpenter and director Jim Cameron had previously collaborated on True Lies and Titanic, which won him the Academy Award for Best Cinematography.

As the cinematographer, Carpenter’s primary concern was ensuring the lighting on live, motion-captured actors blended seamlessly with a CGI-generated universe. Audiences instinctively understand the physics of sunlight filtering through a forest or the way light refracts underwater. To maintain an emotional connection to the story, Cameron insisted that every frame feel like it was in the real world of Pandora.

The Avatar sequels were built in layers, with digital artists building the environment based on the script. Rough versions of the scenes and the blocking for the actors were plotted out, and then they were ready for the motion capture with the actors. Carpenter worked closely with production designers to determine how light should "feel" in these virtual spaces. Because the background was digital, the camera movement and lighting could be tested with instant feedback. If a virtual camera moved through a forest, the real-world lighting on the actor could be tested to react to every digital leaf and shadow in real-time.

For over a year, Carpenter lived in two worlds: the virtual and the physical. "I had to keep lighting consistent in the CGI world while translating what Jim was doing on the capture stage," Carpenter says. "In the world of motion capture, things have to match to the half-second. If the camera travels a specific distance at a specific speed, the actor has to be exactly there. It’s painstaking."

A major breakthrough for the sequels was the use of programmable LED systems. Working with computer programmers and moving lights, Carpenter’s team devised a way to shift intricate lighting setups instantly. This allowed for more complex visual storytelling, such as backlit sequences and the dappled, moving light of the Pandoran jungles.

For Avatar: Fire and Ash, Cameron pushed for a more "organic" look, requesting the digital world mimic the flaws of physical film cameras. “Certain artifacts were introduced into Fire and Ash that we didn't quite have on Way of Water,” Carpenter explains, “such as lens flares and the appearance of water running off the front plate of a camera lens.” The team tested shooting lens flares, and a Weta programmer built it into the CGI world. To simulate the "Ash People" shooting flaming arrows, Carpenter’s team used a grid of overhead LEDs programmed to "zip" past the actors' heads at arrow-speed, creating a realistic flicker of firelight on their faces

Despite the technical hurdles, Carpenter found that the core of his craft—sculpting light—remained the same, even if the toolkit had changed. He admits the transition isn't for everyone. “I would say to any cinematographer who ventures into this territory, there's a learning curve where you definitely feel like a stranger in a strange land,” he says. “You realize that, especially in terms of live action, your percentage of the pie is less—but your impact on the final vision remains vital.”

You can see Avatar: Fire and Ash in a variety of formats in theaters everywhere.

Hear our previous interviews with Russell Carpenter:
https://www.camnoir.com/ep40/
https://www.camnoir.com/ep200/

Find Russell Carpenter: Instagram @russellcarpenterasc

Support Ben's short film, The Ultimate Breakup! https://www.kickstarter.com/projects/theultimatebreakup/the-ultimate-breakup-short-film?ref=nav_search&result=project&term=the%20ultimate%20breakup&total_hits=2

The Cinematography Podcast website: www.camnoir.com
YouTube: @TheCinematographyPodcast
Facebook: @cinepod
Instagram: @thecinepod
Blue Sky: @thecinepod.bsky.social