Friday, November 30, 2012

Stillness


Thursday, November 22, 2012

Galore Glimpses #1

Making films is a focused, catastrophic madness. A whirlwind of restrained chaos threatening to fall apart at any second. And it must be the most beautiful machine there is. 

We're over halfway through Galore and while it's just about impossible to do anything outside the relentless motion of the film, I've been trying to take as many snaps as I can. Here's a few more glimpses of some 35mm bits and pieces from the last weeks. We've got a long haul to go. Some long nights. Some insane setups for a supposedly "intimate" film. But, I can't imagine a more perfect cast and crew to drag through the madness.






















Monday, November 19, 2012

Flow and Speed

"Memory is very important, the memory of each photo taken, flowing at the same speed as the event. During the work, you have to be sure that you haven't left any holes, that you've captured everything, because afterwards it will be too late."
Henri Cartier-Bresson

On Reflection #7

Two weeks down and three to do. We filmed and filmed. Got burnt by the sun and shivered in chill winds. We laughed and collapsed and ran and lazed and fainted and swam and threw ourselves into the film like madmen and revellers. We disappeared into scenes of fighting and kissing and sleeping and waking, of love and languor and laughter and confusion and pain. The time passed impossibly quickly. We shaved every day to the skin. And through it all we got glimpses of the film that lies on the other side... and, damn, that was a beautiful thing.





























Sunday, November 4, 2012

On Reflection # 6

End of week 6 and the first days of filming.

We cemented ourselves in Tuggeranong, stalking the same coffeeshops, restaurants and two dollar shops.

We did test shoots on our lenses, newly arrived from Germany. 

We revised scenes, rehearsed, blocked and rewrote, we walked through, danced through and fought through action, dialogue and the many looks and glances that inhabit the film.

We took endless photographs of the actors who, day by day, inhabited their characters more and more until the differences have become indistinguishable.

We tested stunts, played out languid scenes for the camera and tried out subtle variations of lighting in the bedroom where a lot of the action unfolds.

We watched as the first scene we shot was gifted with the most amazing combination of atmospheric elements; incredible sun, gusting wind and dust eddies, and volumes of light. 

We were in awe of our actors. We watched them destroy scenes with subtle, complex performances.

We met our hero great dane and fell in love with him, too. We drove to lookouts at dusk and listened to good tunes and disappeared into the world of the flick. We built things, broke things down, watched things and listened to things. We posted photos and stickers, painted bikes and erected pergolas. We chased kangaroos and chased light and chased the disappearing hours of dusk scenes. And through it all, life was good.

And now, at last, at last, with a breath of relief and bewilderment and anticipation, we disappear entirely into production.