Sgt. Angle reporting for duty!

At ease, henchmen. Today I’m happy to bring you the highlights of the historical career of one of the best film editors of all time. This Spotlight seems to fall at an entirely appropriate time here at Semantink — just last week, Ben studied the glory days of comics, and Akatzen wound a 10,000 year clock with a superb recollection of Anathem. What better way to study the effects of time in film than by focusing on the skills and assets of the visual trickery of the film editor. I present to you our subject of this week’s film creator spotlight: Thelma Schoonmaker.

Schoonmaker is best known as “Scorsese’s gal,” having edited all of Martin Scorsese’s pictures since 1980’s Raging Bull (with the exception of his Rock-Docs No Direction Home: Bob Dylan and Shine a Light). Known for her versatility and editing against type (dissolves, simple angle/reverse angle as opposed to MTV style fast cutting, as well as the techniques of split screen and dissolves for the documentary Woodstock, Thelma has made quite the name for herself in the world of movies, and has three Oscars and countless other awards to show for it.

Originally, Thelma tested for state department exams and sought a position to work internationally for the state department. Having been born in Algeria and living in Aruba, she didn’t move to the states until her teen years. Because of the limitations on what she could say or do in mingling situations (for instance, not able to criticize Apartheid in the presence of South African dignitaries), Thelma exited her desire for a State Department position. She placed herself in line for a job she found in the classified ads for an assistant editor, and then took a six week course at NYU to learn the basic skills of cutting on film. It was here that she was pulled by a professor to help a young filmmaker struggling with his student project. That filmmaker was Martin Scorsese.

She then cut Scorsese’s first feature, Who’s That Knocking at My Door which starred a young Harvey Keitel. As you can see from the clip above, the filmmaking team already formed styles to compliment each others’ abilities.

After this, Thelma worked on several documentaries, most notable of which is the iconic Woodstock. For this film, she was able to bring musical performances out of a simple cinematic experience and make them more dynamic. Schoonmaker earned her first Oscar nomination for this film, but, oddly, was still not allowed to be a member of the editors’ union.

At the time, there was a catch-22 with the editors’ guild. You couldn’t edit a feature film unless you were in the union, but you couldn’t become a member of the union unless you cut a feature film. Thus, it wasn’t until TEN YEARS LATER (1980) that Thelma was able to cut a feature film and become a member of the union… mysteriously. She says, to this day, that she doesn’t know who pulled their weight to get her into the guild (she guesses it was Pacino).

Her first feature as a member of the union was Martin Scorsese’s Raging Bull, which also earned Thelma her first Oscar. Filled with gritty black and white sparring, boxing matches choreographed like dance routines, and improvised scenes filmed with multiple cameras led to a completely refreshing film dynamic that translated perfectly from life to script to screen, Raging Bull is not only one of the greatest films of all time, it’s an amazing foray into the blessed relationship between Scorsese and Schoonmaker that continues to this day.

With Goodfellas, we were treated to freeze-frames and long tracking shots to create a rocky road from the top of the world to the fall from grace. Notice how, in the scene below, we don’t cut away from Henry’s attack of this dude. It’s all in one take, such that we are not given the chance to look away. We’re this deep in Henry’s world, we’re not allowed to break away.

In The Color of Money, each and every game of pool was suddenly granted a personality and tone of its’ own, some with long lingering dissolves, and others chopped into jump cuts and overhead fly-on-the-wall shots. Here’s one clip of Tom Cruise ruling the school, with only a brief cutaway that serves us a wordless moment of introduction between Cruise and Paul Newman.

In the late ‘90s, Schoonmaker and Scorsese brought to us a classic, sprawling epic in the life story of the Dalai Lama.  Kundun allowed the filmmakers to take their time in a personal recollection of the spiritual and political leader, and the result is a colorful, true spectacle. That attention to detail was combined with character-based cross-cutting in Gangs of New York, another historical epic focused on cultural and moral diversity in 19th Century New York City.

Schoonmaker won her second Oscar for snipping The Aviator, the biography of eccentric billionaire Howard Hughes. Like most of Scorsese’s films, The Aviator is devoted to detail — from the costumes, music, and design to the carefully chosen shots and editing. Simple transitions to show the passage of time and also reveal Hughes’ devotion to his creations as much as his lovers. Notice the quick cutaway to DiCaprio’s foot in this scene, which hints at his OCD taking effect.

For  The Departed, Schoonmaker won her third Oscar, and Scorsese his first — for the kinetic and erratic chopping in a film that combined extended takes, simple match-cutting dialogue scenes, quick-slick jump cuts that made cell phones cool for once, and a flowing nature between scenes that helped us understand a fairly complex plot.

Most recently, both filmmakers combined their knowledge of the history of film styles in the elaborate and swell-paced thriller Shutter Island.

Up next for the acclaimed editor is Scorsese’s 3D adaptation Hugo Cabret. Let’s see what she can do with the exploration of 3D in the period piece adaptation — I’m sure it’ll be something great.

Thelma Schoonmaker is a true treasure in the history of film, now more than ever, as she, like Scorsese, respects and pays homage to (and builds upon) films and techniques of the past to improve upon the movies of today. This quote from her applies to forays from young filmmakers: “From MTV on, the speed of editing has increased, and that is now entering into narrative editing. People are not relying on good shots to tell the story, and I don’t think you can sustain that kind of cutting for the full length of a film.”

You are dismissed.

Sgt. Angle

Sgt. Angle reporting for duty!

Since this websites start date, we have been graced with many lists of comic book art, cover art, and the greatness (and crappiness) of many artists. So, with that in mind, let’s take a look at some of the film world’s best art, the use of the camera for those all-important “tracking shots”.

A little basic training on the Long, Single Take. Just last night I was watching one of my favorite films of the last decade: Children of Men. There are too many aspects of this movie that make it memorable for me to count. From Michael Caine’s “Pull My Finger” line to Clive Owen’s flip-flops, no two viewings of COM are the same. But the most memorable thing about the movie are the single takes, the long shots, each lasting 3 — 8 minutes long and carry us through violent protests, gun battles in a city of rubble, and an action-packed car ride while being chased by rabid refugees in a dystopian society. Not to mention, you get to watch a CG baby pop out of a vagina into Clive’s lovin’ hands.

These long takes are not only difficult to execute from a production perspective, they’re also hard to watch. We begin to feel growing discomfort, start squirming in our seats, waiting for the edit to occur. It’s like watching Kate Gosselin deny her child a bottle of water. Hydrate your child, woman!

For the majority of audiences, movies feel safer, more accessible, the more cuts that it has. The average shot length in Michael Bay’s Armageddon was 2.3 seconds. Yum, right? Why eat a whole pie when you can just have a sliver? Why go the Scorsese route and whip us along the insider’s back entrance of a restaurant as Henry Hill shows his date a good time?

Paul Thomas Anderson is another director working on perfecting the craft of the Long Take. Boogie nights. Magnolia. There Will Be Blood. Not only can Daniel Day Lewis deliver monologues as if on a stage at the Globe Theatre, but he can also run with the best of them.

For Children of Men, the lingering presence of the camera reminds us that, in reality, there is no break. That is a smart tactic when dealing with a world, a universe, different than our own present time. We’re carried through Theo’s (Clive Owen) kidnapping and encounter with his ex-wife, the camera lingering on her as Theo exits the warhouse where they’ve met, as if she has become a lingering memory and the sound of her voice is that ringing in his ear that just will not fade, the past catching up with him.

Then, one more time, the camera follows Theo as he chases Ki through a war-torn, rubble-filled city, guns blazing above their heads. He enters a building, bodies hit by bullets, spraying blood on the camera itself. Again, we’re a part of the action. We don’t get a break, a cut to a different angle, because Theo doesn’t get the cut.

This tactic, this elongated, single-take style, runs counter to the “MTV Generation” of filmmaking — your Saw films, any horror film after 1999, Transformers, Crank, The Transporter, etc. These movies have their moments, and adrenaline does get pumping through the constant rush of quick takes and quick scenes covering a short time span. But Children of Men, I would argue, also captures the suspense of multiple moments, the tension of a constant reminder of the question: Will we make it?

Director Alfonso Cuaron used a similar technique to remind the audience of time and the imminent danger present in Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban. It should be noted that, because of Cuaron’s unique take and style on the subject, as well as his artistic contribution to the world of Harry Potter, this film represented a departure from the Chris Columbus, cookie-cutter style which founded the film series, and brought us into a more “grown-up”, darker, more realistic setting.

To celebrate the “long shot”, here are some of the best in cinema history.

1. The Hitchcock classic, ROPE. Inspired by the case of Leopald and Loeb from the 1930s, Rope stars Jimmy Stewart and takes place in one evening, an hour and a half real-time. The shots are about 10 minutes long, and transitions, or edits, are made when the camera swoops behind an actor’s back, usually a black suit or bookcase, to keep the momentum and the action flowing. The other key to the boiling suspense in Rope is the constant presence in the foreground and background of the chest which holds the dead body, seen killed at the start of the film.

2. Another long-take to be aware of is in fact an entire film, The Russian Ark. Though I have not experienced this picture on my own, I have heard good things. It’s an hour and a half, again, all ONE TAKE, following a man through an historical house in Russia, with dance numbers and historical figures wandering in and out of the frame as if a simple breeze blowing through.

3. Breaking into “MTV” mode for a moment, one-take music videos are sort of a thing of wonder, which is how you feel watching Spike Jonze’s marvelous video for Weezer’s “Undone — The Sweater Song”.

4. Park Chan-Wook’s “Oldboy” features this amazing fight scene, which becomes an elongated tracking shot to show us the entire brutal force which Oh Daesu is up against. Truly a harrowing experience.

5. Robert Altman skyrocketed his directing style into the hall of fame of ages with this opening shot from “The Player,” involving a single revolving take around a movie studio lot to show us the ups and downs of motion pictures, and including improvised dialogue with actors AND non actors.

6. A classic, which stands out despite any number of editing decisions later in the process by the studio, Orson Welles’s opening crane shot in “Touch of Evil” remains the gold standard for crane shots, really.

7. Here’s one for fun. It’s been dubbed the best UNCUT fight scene ever, from “The Protector” starring Tony Jaa.

The next clip was going to be from DePalma’s “Snake Eyes,” but since I couldn’t find the video online, I think we’ll stop at seven.

He will snake your eyes.

Seven is a good number to go out on, but please, comment back below with your favorite one-take-wonders.

At ease.

Sgt. Angle