EDITING
So now we’re editing. Gladys has the lion’s share – I’m doing scenes 1-12, she’s doing 13-52. We’re discovering where our holes are, what we should have done better. We're discovering that we're not as great as we thought we were. We're discovering that the back slapping and joyous yelps of glee that we uttered at the wrap party when we finished shooting were just shouts of triumph that we had made it through the week. Turns out, we're not so goddam brilliant.
In one scene there’s dust on the lens. We knew it when we shot it, but the day was going so well, we were supposed to be way behind and we were actually getting ahead and it would have derailed the whole production to stop and do the shot over and it felt great to say, 'naw, we got it, we’re moving on, we’re rolling baby!”
We should have stopped and done it again. Coulda shoulda woulda.
The name of the game is coverage. Coverage. I read a review a while back and some famous film director was lamenting the fact that directors don’t make films like Hitchcock anymore. Hitchcock , so the story goes, had every shot planned out in his head: he knew precisely how it would all fit together, in fact he shot it in such a way so that it COULD ONLY be put together the way he wanted it, thwarting the suits at the studio, defying them to make sense of it any other way.
OK, yeah, sounds great, if you’re a genius. If you’re not a genius, and most of us aren't, it turns out you shouldn't pretend to be Hitchcock, or use his methods, because you never know. You never know what might inspire you in the editing room. There are so many decisions to make, thousands upon thousands – why not give yourself as many options as you can?
That’s why we shoot: to give the editor as many options as possible. The film’s written three times, right? - blah blah blah - you've heard this all before.