Tuesday, September 30, 2008

Lessons Learned

You know, it's been difficult at times to forge ahead and hone my craft when I am, in essence, a freelancer with hardly any offsiders to refer to. And without other VFX artists around to share ideas with, well, sometimes things feel a) lonely, and b) stagnant. So when a learning opportunity rears its head, you take it.

As such, I want to share some things that I learned from my work on Cupid, things that seem pretty obvious when you think about it, but that nevertheless may not be so apparent when in the thick of a one-man VFX project. So here goes.

Get involved very early on
This is a tough one, because it's down to a good director and/or producer to understand when to bring the effects people. Ideally, that time is well before much of anything else is done.

With Cupid, I was brought in after principle photography. This is not necessarily a bad thing, but it leads to a lot of missed opportunities. The main downfall of not starting the VFX process at the beginning, is that the effects people lose the ability to have input into the shots. So for Cupid, I was basically in a position of reverse-engineering the director's thought process so that I could understand how to approach the shot, which therefore made my job that little bit harder.

Be on set whilst shooting the VFX shots and/or plates
This feeds in from the previous point, in that it's something I couldn't control, since I was brought in to do the work once shooting had wrapped. Which is a pity, because had I been onset, I would have gleaned a lot of important insights, and also may have had the opportunity to point out things I may have missed.

For example, one shot required me to create a reveal of a character who had previously been invisible. This means having a shot with the actor doing his thing, and another shot of the same scene without the actor (a 'blank plate'). When I received the footage, it quickly became apparent that lighting conditions had changed and that the camera had moved the tiniest little bit. Had I been onset, there's a possibility that I may have been able to notice these small things, since everyone else onset would have been looking at other details. Ultimately, the 2 plates were so different that a 'shockwave' effect was added to hide the transition from 1 plate to the other. But it seems to have worked, because when I scrutinise the final shot, I can't see that seam.

The other major factor is that I could have taken lots of photos. There's nothing like being there on the day of the shoot for finding all manner of reference materials. For example, I requested a floorplan showing the lighting of the shot, and was pleased to get a fairly concise image with all the information I needed. But it was a poor substitute for physically seeing the lights, and being told that said light was elevated by 2m still doesn't give me the complete picture. What that means is that I had to study the footage for lighting information (a good practise anyway) and try to discern the info I needed. But one photo of the actor standing next to said light would have told me so much more than "2m elevation".

Work side-by-side with the director as much as possible
Perhaps the hardest lesson learned on this project. Because of geographical constraints, not to mention busy schedules, Melvin and I worked mostly by proxy. To break it down, I would work for a bit, render stuff out, send my work to Melvin via the internet, he would watch it, form his opinions, call me with feedback, and the process would repeat.

This is bad.

Fast forward to the last 2 possible days, in which 2 deadlines had already been broken and things had to be finalised by the end of that final day, no ifs or buts. Melvin was concerned because particle effects that were to be seen in every shot weren't working, so he canceled his entire weekend to come work alongside me, and we quickly covered a lot of ground. In fact, render times and fatigue ate up most of that weekend. But we got it done, and the results were so much the better for it.

What happened on that weekend is that we got immediate feedback, and the evidence was visual, not verbal. Melvin could take the mouse and try things, if he wanted to. Or I could quickly spend 2 minutes mocking up an idea, instead of explaining it over the phone and taking the risk of Melvin misunderstanding. Most important of all, though, was that Melvin could simply communicate his ideas to me visually, such as something on Google Images, or a quick sketch. So much so that within an hour of working side-by-side with him, I knew exactly what he wanted out of the effect. The rest of the time was spent fine-tuning and rendering.

The last minute will always be utilised
How long is a piece of string?

That kind of rhetoric gets thrown about a lot in this industry, usually in answer to 'how long will it take to do?' But what I'm getting at is that this is an industry that always does a mad rush at the eleventh hour; work that is at its most feverish at the last minute. That final weekend was very worrying in some respects, and it was downright painful to keep pushing into the small hours, especially after so many late nights. And I had to remind myself and Melvin that we were doing the last-minute rush in the same manner that any big-budget feature film might do. It was exactly the same.

Of course, things already mentioned fed into the need for that last-minute push, but that's not the important part. Because even if things had been "completed" two weeks in advance, that merely creates the opportunity for adding extra detail; you start finding out that there's more string than you could see.

Your gut feelings are always right -- well, some of the time
Broadly speaking, your initial reaction to something is the one that will give the most perspective on how you should proceed - not just in this industry, but life in general. But other times, that reaction can be deceiving.

Sometimes, something that doesn't work for you the first time will grow on you if you immerse yourself in it. Possibly, this is why they tell you that the only way to appreciate a painting is to sit in front of it for 10 minutes and take it all in. Regardless, an effect or piece of footage may seem abhorrent the first time you see it, but if you loop the video, you may find that it starts to feel right. And the reverse is true: just because it seems right the first time doesn't mean that it will look good after that.

I bring up this point, though, because of the final weekend in which Melvin and I rushed madly to finish it all off. As stated above, it was due to the particle effects in the shot, which weren't working. I was very proud of my particle effect, and really wanted to make it work, but it was clear to me that it wasn't working, even before Melvin pointed it out. So after we redesigned the effect, Melvin asked me if I was okay with the change. (I should add here that it was both a personal and professional question, and I addressed it as such.) I told him that what I wanted the effect to be was the right thing that the shot needed, not what I felt should be in the shot.

There's no sense getting precious about your work. Filmmakers have to be prepared to remove their favourite scene, if they feel that scene damages the story they're telling. Same goes for writers, or just about any creative medium. What makes it great is the things you omit. There's no reason why visual effects should be any different.

Take breaks. Often.
Let's face it: you're bound to be doing long hours at ridiculous times of the day. You may work until you crash, then get up 2 hours later and work for 3 more hours before crashing again. Hey, whatever works for you. But inasmuch as you need to concentrate on your work, you shouldn't neglect the needs of your body.

Look away from the screen, often. Not only does it help your eyes, which no doubt have trouble focusing on the images onscreen by this point anyway, but it also helps how you perceive what your eyes are telling you. Any given VFX shot has you staring at the same image over and over again, and although you may alter that image considerably over a few hours, you nevertheless make those alterations one change at a time. Coming back after 10 minutes gives you the opportunity to see the image from a somewhat fresher perspective - very important when you only have a few days or hours to complete the task at hand.

Of course, there are also health concerns. On the Saturday of that monster weekend, Melvin and I worked until 5am, and we only stopped because I stated that we were becoming too tired for our own good. As it is, it's been difficult for me to regain a healthy sleeping pattern, even after 10 days. We also didn't want to start making stupid mistakes that we'd only have to correct the following day, thereby wasting precious time.

The main thing, besides health, is that you need to keep yourself both focused and motivated. And there's nothing like staring at a computer screen to sap both qualities. Taking 5 minutes here for a smoke, 10 minutes there for a snack, really helps to keep up that motivation and focus.


That's about all for now! I'm going to take my own advice and take a break now, because it's getting hard to stay focused. I may post up some more, but for now I think I've covered all the main points I wanted to.

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