CONDUCTING A VISUAL SYMPHONY
People ask me frequently if I always wanted to be a director; if I knew as a child that that was my destiny. No, I did not. I didn’t know then what a director actually does – and it’s not what outsiders think it is, anyway. It’s not about saying “action” and “cut,” it’s not about having a special chair with your name on it. It’s about understanding human behavior and psychology and translating that knowledge into the story through the actors, and then filming it to visually contribute to the viewers’ immersion in the event – whether it’s a movie or a TV episode. Like a conductor of a symphony, a director lifts the story off the page and collaborates with a large group of artists, whether they be cast or crew, to interpret the material and create the fullest expression of it.
I did try my hand at a few other roles along the way before I determined that directing fit me best. I started as a secretary, answering phones, getting coffee and typing scripts. I’ve been a post-production producer, a producing director, and a writer. But I am the happiest – and most productive – on set. Maybe because birth order set the pattern, and as the oldest of four, I’m practiced at assessing situations, making decisions, and being bossy about getting my way!
Yes, a director must be bossy. Or, to put it more conventionally, a director leads the way. But the difference between a film director and a leader of a more prosaic kind, like a manager of an Amazon warehouse, is the creative vision. We directors are not just ordering supplies and filling employee schedules, we are leading our cast and crew toward the fulfillment of our creative vision: how we imagined the scenes in the script will play out. How will the set design and decoration, wardrobe and props, (every department, actually,) influence the story? How does the lighting set the mood? What does each character need to accomplish in the scene, and how does that cause them to move about the set? How do I help each actor achieve a fully articulated performance? What type of shot will illustrate the story and show the viewer what they need to see? How do I communicate these thoughts so that all collaborators are pulling toward the same goal?
Hopefully and ideally, my enthusiasm for the story and our process of bringing it to a visual life is infectious in the best way. As I include each person and bring positive energy to our daily group endeavor, I imagine myself as that conductor waving my hands to indicate, “Join us, it’s your turn. Add what you will to this mix of craftmanship and art, contribute your piece to the whole.” And the music swells and then ebbs as we finish a scene. Then we start another. The day passes by in a series of scenes and orchestral-type movements, and the dolly grip plays as crucial a part as “#1 on the call sheet,” if only for a moment.
As I leave at the end of a shooting day, someone will invariably say something like “Thanks for getting us out early.” And I counter with, “I can only go as fast as everyone else lets me,” because I don’t do this alone. I don’t create a series of scenes all by myself in a shooting day. It takes everyone, doing their absolute best, to create the particular music of each day. The actor has to know her words and play the subtext. The camera operator has to frame the shot by being intuitively aware of the actors’ physical and emotional state. The boom operator has to react to every nuanced move an actor makes to achieve quality sound. I could list the sixty people on the crew and all the actors on any one day who all must collaborate to bring the story to the screen in its most perfect form, following my creative vision, as adapted from the script that a wonderful writer gifted to us. I am the conductor, the bossy conductor, who gets to lead them. But I don’t do it alone. I am eternally grateful to each person who shows up every day to help me make a TV show. The conductor gets the spotlight, but if there were no orchestra, the conductor would be whistling alone in the dark.
So this is me, stepping out of that spotlight for a moment, thanking all the casts and crews who allowed me to lead them, who welcomed me to their set and gave their all. I didn’t know as a child that it could be like this, that the joy of leadership and the storytelling via group collaboration would brighten my world and give me a reason for being. But I know now, and there are no words big enough to express my gratitude. I love it and want to keep doing it, therefore as long as filmmaking for TV needs a conductor, I will willingly and gratefully step up to the podium.