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Apprentice Editors

The Editor as Consigliore: Dan Lebental Partners with Director Jon Favreau for Sci-Fi Western

by Michael Goldman July 1, 2011

written by Michael Goldman 13 minutes read

by Michael Goldman portraits • by Deverill Weekes

Through several TV projects and five feature films, the relationship between editor Dan Lebental, ACE, and director Jon Favreau has evolved to the point where Lebental views himself as Favreau’s creative consultant when it comes to helping the director figure out exactly where his movies are going.

This was certainly the case, both men say, during their collaboration on Favreau’s latest feature, Cowboys & Aliens, opening July 29 through DreamWorks and Universal Pictures.

Lebental co-edited the piece with Jim May, but with a long history working with Favreau, he was part of the project from the outset. May then came on board as principal photography ended to reduce schedule pressure as the number and bandwidth of the visual effects shots expanded. He says part of his job was to “free Dan up to look at the bigger picture with Jon.”

And that’s precisely what Lebental did, becoming, according to Favreau, one of the most crucial creative influences on the director throughout the creation of the film. “I’m sort of a filter for Jon, and then he decides on things,” he says. “I’m his consigliore—I advise strongly based on what I believe, and then he decides. I’m a forceful personality whom he chooses to have around, and therefore I will challenge him or suggest things even when he’s firm on what he wants. It’s not about getting my way—it’s about the quest to find clarity in the edit. I’m trying to help him cut through the fog and find the movie that he wants to show, so I keep suggesting things until I know he’s sure about everything.”

Cowboys & Aliens. Courtesy of Universal Studios and DreamWorks II Distribution Co.

Favreau confirms the notion, saying that Lebental has “bold ideas—not ones I always agree with, but I like them anyway because I like a strong point of view in the editing room. He’s a very active partner for me,” the director attests. “The last thing I want is an editor who is there solely to execute my vision. I want someone to present a counterpoint to the way I think we should go. Conversations can often lead to something different than either of our original POVs, and that is best for the film; that’s how you get to the truth of it.”

Mixing Genres

In the case of Cowboys & Aliens, the essential challenge for the director and both editors was how to find a rhythm that balanced the story neatly between elements from two, separate genres— the traditional Western and the modern sci-fi action piece. The movie, after all, tells the story of an alien invasion in Arizona in the late 1800s, with only a group of startled cowboys—led by two rivals who hate each other’s guts (played by Daniel Craig and Harrison Ford)—try- ing to halt the onslaught.

Although those two genres are part of the film’s DNA, both men concluded very early that Cowboys & Aliens would be, as Lebental puts it, “grounded solidly in the Western world, and therefore, we weren’t about to impose on it and mash it up with other styles; we weren’t going to dishonor the genre.”

Indeed, Favreau suggests the foundation of Cowboys & Aliens was meant to be about as classic a Western as one can get. This is a major reason why he nixed the idea of making Cowboys & Aliens a 3- D picture, since he felt it would distract from the concept of a classic Western. “We felt it would be like commenting on the Western [by adding a modern digital layer over stylized imagery],” Favreau says. “So we decided that 2-D anamorphic on film was a better match for this material.”

In fact, the director’s references and inspirations were a series of Western titles neatly organized and presented to him on an iPad by executive producer Steven Spielberg. That collection was skewed by Spielberg’s preferences for John Ford films like The Searchers and Stagecoach, along with such other classics as Red River, High Noon and Unforgiven, plus personal favorites of Favreau’s, including Sergio Leone’s famous Spaghetti Westerns. Those influences left the director juggling a dichotomy that Lebental and May would help him sort out in the editing room—how to insert modern, sci-fi, alien-invasion elements into a classic Western story arc.

Jim May.

“We felt it was important to keep a traditional eye,” Favreau says. “Obviously, the new wrinkle is throwing in the alien invasion. But, in a weird way, that made it more akin to traditional Westerns than if it didn’t have that element. It’s irresponsible today to be xenophobic and present Indians or other cultures as allegorical evil, like earlier Westerns did. Back in those days, the Indian was the abstraction of the scary, unknown other. Now, they are just as human as cowboys, which is the right thing. But you lost some of those story elements as a result. With aliens, we were able to return to the allegorical evil that the cowboys are facing. So we felt we could honor tradition- al Western pacing that way.”

This requirement challenged the editors, but also led to some good, old-fashioned creative fun in melding the genres together. In a sequence where the character Jake (Craig) gets to fire the mysterious alien weapon that is stuck to his wrist, May recalls, “Jon evoked the classic Western gunslinger when creating the scene. And trying to stay true to that, I let that motif drive the pace and shot selection. I found beats and looks from Jake where he is like the Sundance Kid—hyper-confident, firing away in controlled mayhem that mows down bad guy after bad guy, never sweating.

“But as the scene evolves, we also channel that classic scene from Aliens in which Private Hudson looks up into the ceiling tiles and sees dozens of aliens bearing down on his team,” continues May. “Jake unleashes—I mean really unleashes—his wrist weapon. Then, at the end of the scene, where normally the gunslinger would calmly blow smoke off the barrel of his gun, Jake calmly adjusts his hat and looks down, and this high-tech visual display screen turns off on his blaster, which tells him the alien threat is over. It’s a really fun, cross-genre homage.”

Perfecting the pacing and tone for such sequences was the trick, of course, but the filmmakers say the pressing need to produce a killer reel for presentation at the Comic-Con International 2010 show last summer helped them on this mission of discovery. The need to sell the movie to fans long in advance of its completion caused Favreau to “go a little bit P.T. Barnum,” in Lebental’s words. Therefore, the director structured his shoot so that he would have elements for the movie’s big set piece—an attack on a small Western town by alien invaders that occurs early in the story—in place for Lebental to cut in time for the trade show.

“When we put it together, it ended up becoming the foundation of telling us what the tone of the movie was,” says Lebental. “We found our way to put the two genres together. To me, it was shocking how complimentary they turned out to be.”

Cowboys & Aliens. Courtesy of Universal Studios and DreamWorks II Distribution Co.

Favreau adds that the Comic-Con presentation was exactly what the doctor ordered, because fan interest at such events changes every year in various ways. Therefore, the exercise required Lebental and him to find devices that would honor both classic Western pacing, and yet be contemporary enough for the sci-fi crowd.

“Audiences today tend to metabolize more cuts and shorter cuts,” the director says. “The flip side is that if they are not stimulated enough, they become bored. The question was: How to achieve the same effect of the classic Western but create a pacing that does not feel lethargic to them, and is still vital and relevant? Comic-Con and screenings that followed were great for that because we pre- viewed 40 minutes of the film, got input from our target audience and were later able to cut those scenes down to about 25 minutes.

“That is the nature of notes in these things,” Favreau continues. “In the script stage, notes are about what you want to add in. In the editorial phase, notes are about what you want to get rid of—things that, even if they are well done, might interfere with the rhythm of the piece. We removed a lot of things over the course of the cutting process for that reason.”

Pushing for Perspective

As usual, Lebental had a well-organized and familiar team, led by his veteran first assistant editors Dawn King and Sandra Granovsky, handling the technical end of things—data management, etc.— leaving him free to work on his initial assembly throughout the shooting phase on an Avid Media Composer (5.0.3.5) system. The production ended up using seven Media Composer stations among the two editors, assistants and visual effects requirements. The filmmakers frequently reviewed and screened dailies footage directly out of the Avid or on D5 tape in the DHX36 HD format.

Dan Lebental, left, and Jim May.

Over the course of the editorial phase, a new perspective from May was added after he joined the project, and Favreau even invited Spielberg and fellow producer/director Ron Howard into the editing room to offer suggestions. But before most of that additional input, the initial cut of over three hours largely consisted of an opportunity for Favreau to see how Lebental would interpret the material on his own.

“We have a gentlemen’s agreement on that,” says Lebental. “It’s important that he see what I would do based on my first instinct, especially in the style we shot, with lots of different angles. Rather than just prescribe it for me, he’d rather see what I would bring to the table, and then direct from there.”

“The editorial process is so long that it is easy to lose perspective,” Favreau adds. “Having fresh POVs in the editing room is important. But core to that conversation is what goes on between director and editor––especially in the case of Dan and myself. His first assembly is an opportunity to show me his perspective based on what we gave him. Being on set so much does not always give me the best insight into what I’ve shot, so he helps remind me that sometimes the solution is outside of what I had in mind.”

Favreau’s respect—and need—for Lebental’s input is so strong, in fact, that the director has been known on several films (including this one) to re-shoot footage or shoot entirely new footage when feasible, based on the editor’s input. “He comes to the set and shows me when he feels he needs something else to get a scene done, and he’ll give me a wish list of shots,” says Favreau. “I usually get him the footage to finish the scene. We have that level of trust, and it comes from knowing someone’s sensibility. If he asks for something, I know where he’s coming from and I put it on my agenda to con- sider getting less of what I wanted on a particular day if it’s something Dan is adamant about.”

The Effects Factor

The intensely close relationship between Favreau and Lebental wasn’t the only thing familiar about the Cowboys & Aliens cutting process, however. Both men were well versed in dealing with major visual effects in partnership with Industrial Light & Magic after their experiences on the two Iron Man movies helmed by Favreau.

The Cowboys & Aliens editorial crew: Front row, from left, first assistant Dawn King, apprentice editor Britni Ziegler, editor Jim May, editor Dan Lebental; back row, music editor Tanya Hill, assistant editor Michael Polier, visual effects editor Paul Wagner, post-production assistant Rachel Watson, first assistant Sandra Granovsky and assistant editor Stacey Frederick.

Indeed, Favreau says he could never have possibly made Cowboys & Aliens were it not for the lessons he and his team learned on both Iron Man films. In the case of this film, however, adding an experienced effects and editing professional like May to the mix allowed that process to be more efficient than on those earlier efforts. Over time, May’s role expanded as he became accustomed to Lebental’s cutting pace and process, but his knowledge of visual effects proved particularly invaluable.

The editors say that their ability to work intimately with ILM to get enough information to choose and hone evolving visual effects shots was central to the project’s success. “For the editors, with a show involving complex creature animation like this one, clearly there needs to be a tremendous amount of collaboration with the visual effects supervisor,” May explains. “Often, you are animating and editing down to the individual frames within the shot.”

Lebental feels the role of the editor has changed in recent years when it comes to large tentpole effects films, simply because of the reality that final effects shots—usually crucial to a film’s success—are typically not going to be done ahead of the editorial process, and often long after it. “That’s just part of the gig now on these kinds of films,” he says. “Now, the editor is asked to be part and parcel with planning and creation. On some movies, I’m brought in to cut pre-visualization animation before the movie is ever shot.

“Classically, the editor doesn’t want to do that because he likes to be the independent catcher of the material, keeping a totally objective eye and not having a vested interest in what is coming to him,” he continues. “But the reality is that the cost of these effects action pieces requires proper planning to save millions of dollars and get everything right.” Economics now require editors to be part of the process earlier and longer than in the past.

“As an editor on these films, you are more involved in planning, while still trying to stay objective and honest when telling the directors something stinks, or is great, or is needed or isn’t; that’s just part of the modern editor’s job on big movies,” Lebental concludes. “But when you work with a director like Jon––who values your opinion so highly and gives you room to challenge his––it works out great.”

July 1, 2011 0 comments

Letters to the Editor

Keeping the History Alive

by uncredited May 1, 2011

written by uncredited 2 minutes read

It was fun seeing my old friend Ray Daniels quoted in the Hill Street Blues story (“Blue Grit,” Editors Guild Magazine, JAN-FEB 11). Ray and I go back more than 60 years, having first met in elementary school. We remained friends into adulthood and we both entered the motion picture industry as apprentice film editors. Eventually, I moved east and our close connection ended for a time.

After 15 years or so as an editor, I got tired of fixing the mistakes of inept directors, and watching them get the credit for it. I decided to become a director myself and fix my own mistakes. As Ray rose to become the editor of such fine programs as Hill Street Blues, editing, as he says, the equivalent of “a feature theatrical film a week,” I settled into a career as a writer-director-producer of documentary films, editing most of them myself. As expected, I was able to fix my own mistakes–– and they were legion.

Ray and I are both retired now. With the leisure that comes with retirement, I’ve been able to revisit some of the scenes of my youth and to reconnect with Ray. Although I haven’t seen him as often as I would like over the recent years, it is nice to be able to keep the connection strong by seeing what he has to say in our Guild’s fine magazine. Kudos to Kevin Lewis for writing fine articles like “Blue Grit,” keeping the rich history of our craft alive, and keeping names like that of Ray Daniels in print with the valuable comments he has to make from the perspective of an industry veteran.

Stuart Hersh, Picture Editor (Retired)
New York

May 1, 2011 0 comments

Features

May the Norse be with You:
‘Thor’s’ Paul Rubell

by B Desowitz May 1, 2011

written by B Desowitz 10 minutes read

by Bill Desowitz • portraits by Gregory Schwartz

In yet another summer dominated by comic book superheroes, Thor (opening May 6 from Paramount) stands out both for its Norse mythology and its choice of directors: the distinguished Kenneth Branagh (Hamlet, Henry V). Based on the legend of the Thunder god, the Marvel Comics adaptation concerns the Mighty Thor (Chris Hemsworth), a powerful but reckless warrior who reignites an ancient war. As punishment, Thor is cast down to Earth, where he must fight the darkest forces of his world, Asgard. Thus, unlike other Marvel protagonists, the hammer-wielding Thor starts out as a superhero and becomes human as part of a necessary humbling process.

The Norse myths have existed in written form since at least the 13th century. Thor first appeared in a comic book in 1962. Thus, the comic book story has had various incarnations in its 50 years, so it was challenging for Marvel to settle on the version it wanted to film. Once it was decided that Asgard and Earth (or Midgard, as the gods call it) would both be in the film, making it an origin story, the tricky part was settling on the tone of the interactions.

The film’s editor, Paul Rubell, ACE, has cut his share of superhero features, including the first two Transformers films (2007 and 2009), Hancock (2008) and Blade (1998). “There is an element of gravitas in Thor that one doesn’t necessarily associate with a movie based on a comic book,” he claims. “And this is juxtaposed with laugh-out-loud humor. The ability to juggle those two tones is one of Kenneth Branagh’s great strengths, and is somewhat unusual for this kind of movie.”

Paul Rubell.

In fact, Thor creates a situation that exposes him to the wrath of his father, Odin (played by Anthony Hopkins). This leads to his discovery on Earth by a group of scientists who must deal with a man claiming to be a god. “It’s a very funny scene, but when it comes on the heels of such intensity, the audience isn’t instantly clear that it’s okay to laugh,” Rubell continues. “That sort of transition had to be played with. The tone of Asgard is generally more dramatic, while Midgard is lighter in tone.”

While many people may think the choice of Branagh as the film’s director was counterintuitive, the editor contrarily insists it was the perfect match. “In addition to having directed more than a dozen movies in the dramatic, comedy, mystery, science-fiction and musical genres, his background is Shakespearean theatre–– and there are aspects to the Norse gods’ family relationships that are Shakespearean in scale and tone. People have been drawn to entertaining stories about dysfunctional families for hundreds of years. Throw the worlds of Asgard, Earth and Jotunheim [one of the Nine Realms of Asgard] into the mix, and you’ve got an intimate foreground story set against an epic background.”

Additionally, Branagh is a master at directing for performance, the editor emphasizes. “He has acted in more than 50 film or TV roles and numerous stage productions,” Rubell says. “So he’s not going to be intimidated by Anthony Hopkins! And he’s going to guide less experienced actors to fine performances.” In addition to Hopkins as Odin (who’s got two high-spirited kids to deal with while trying to run the Nine Realms on a daily basis), there’s also Tom Hiddleston as Loki, Thor’s adoptive brother and nemesis––who would have benefitted from Norse psychoanalysis––and recent Oscar winner Natalie Portman as Jane Foster, a scientist who must confront an ancient myth.

“As an actor, Ken knows in his DNA which moments are genuine and which are, however skillfully delivered, artifice,” Rubell explains. “With Loki, in particular, it was impossible in the shooting to judge how to orchestrate the reveal of his changing nature over the course of the entire movie, so Ken shot a wide range of options. It took a while to hit on the right combination of dynamics.”

When it came to newcomer Hemsworth, Branagh’s strategy was to help him humanize Thor as much as possible. “Without giving anything away, the thing that attracted me most about this story was the idea that a Norse god interacts with humans in the 21st century,” Rubell says. “How do you tell this story without being ridiculous? Chris and Ken and the writers [Ashley Edward Miller, Zack Stentz and Don Payne] realized that tone beautifully.

“The trick was to present a character that lacks humility, yet is appealing enough to carry the movie until the change comes,” he continues. “A less appealing character makes for a more effective redemption––but it’s not as much fun to watch. So we were constantly tweaking the performance and swapping scripted moments in and out of the movie in search of the delicate balance.”

And as for Thor’s look and fighting style? “Suffice it to say that it’s not just a guy in a cape swinging a hammer,” the editor replies.

Indeed, the effects-intensive Thor contains around 1,300 visual effects shots, which range from Asgard and Jotunheim backgrounds to creature animation. “Imagine a ten-foot, flame-throwing metal juggernaut,” Rubell offers. “Or a gigantic ice beast that’s been hibernating for centuries until now. Or a race of frost giants.” These were the kinds of challenges faced by effects supervisor and Guild member Wes Sewell and his extraordinary team.

“I started three months before production, working with the pre-viz department, headed by Gerardo Ramirez, which morphed into the post-viz department as soon as we started shooting,” Rubell continues. “We had a minimum of three post-viz artists, and sometimes as many as six, until quite late in post-production. This allowed us to initially flesh out the script, and eventually to revise the action as necessary in response to the evolving demands of the story. Ken is extremely well organized, and he took to this process like a CG duck to CG water. He worked intimately with our storyboard artists, particularly Rico D’Alessandro, during pre-production to put his visual stamp on the visual effects/action sequences.”

Paul Rubell, front center, surrounded by his Thor editorial crew, from left, Eric Osmond (stereo assistant editor), Rich Conkling (second assistant editor), Tommy Aagaard (apprentice editor), Mario Vitale (assistant music editor), Jeremy Bradley (visual effects editor) and Rob Malina (first assistant editor). Not pictured are Leslie Webb (first assistant editor) and Danny Rafic (visual effects editor).

Rubell also discusses the numerous hurdles in editing Thor: “The biggest challenges were juggling the range of tones and settling on the right amount of back story needed to jump into a complex mythological world.” As an example, he offers, “In the comics, Thor’s warrior friends were very broadly drawn, even bordering on slapstick at times. We spent quite a lot of time modulating this in the film. And we eventually added a kind of prologue, which sets the historical scene so that the audience doesn’t have to work quite so hard to catch up with the story and characters.”

For his part, director Branagh is “an angel” in the cutting room, according to Rubell. “It will come as no surprise to his fans to hear that he is impeccably cultured and articulate––but I was surprised to find that he is drop-dead, hysterically funny,” he says. “Early on, we decided that the most efficient way to work was for him to convey his notes to me; then go away while I conjured up various versions.” This process allowed Branagh to retain a little more objectivity, while giving Rubell the freedom to experiment––and perhaps surprise the director on occasion.

“We successfully merged our waveforms,” he adds. “I tended to cut long in the first instance––although it didn’t feel long at the time––whereas Ken functioned as a conductor, beating out a faster tempo until things began to resonate at their own frequency.

“What I love about the editing process is that it’s dialectical: thesis, antithesis, synthesis,” continues Rubell. “And that by the time ideas have been synthesized, they have been purified of ownership. As editors, we learn to play our editing systems––in my case, Avid Media Composer––like a piano, so the rhythm is essentially ours. Although it’s dictated, of course, by the rhythms of image and dialogue, which flow from principal photography.”

When asked about Thor’s highlights, Rubell merely reveals, “Fights! Romance! Drama! Comedy! More fights!”

Thor actually represents a first for Rubell: His 18-month stint in the edit suite is the longest he’s been immersed in one story, which means “the potential of over-familiarity and editing your way past the best version of the movie,” he says. “But I think we avoided that pitfall.” It’s also the first movie in many years that he has cut solo. “I missed the collaboration, and the luxury of being able to walk into my co-editor’s room and get an expert, objective, no-holds-barred opinion on a scene,” he explains. “With Thor, that role was filled by my stellar assistants, Rob Malina, Leslie Webb and Rich Conkling, as well as visual effects editors Jeremy Bradley and Danny Rafic. But on the other hand, it’s immensely gratifying to have the entire movie filtered through my own personal aesthetic.”

But there was another component to deal with on Thor: stereoscopic 3-D conversion. Completely CG shots were delivered by the visual effects vendor as true 3-D, while shots that mix live-action plates with CG effects were first converted, and then the 3-D effects were added.

“We did some things differently from the way conversions have been done in the past,” Rubell explains. “For example, whatever is of primary interest in the frame we took to the screen plane. This pushes foreground objects into negative space [toward the audience], which in the past has been uncomfortable to view. But we compressed the foreground objects to collapse their volume––which can’t be accomplished in stereo photography––and make the frame more natural. We also created floating windows to soften how the eye perceives the edges.”

When asked about Thor’s highlights, Rubell merely reveals, “Fights! Romance! Drama! Comedy! More fights!” And how will the character segue into next year’s film about a team of superheroes, The Avengers, which Rubell will also be editing? “Thor will flow seamlessly into The Avengers.”
‘Nuff said, as Marvel comic book characters are wont to exclaim.

Bill Desowitz is senior editor of AWN and VFXWorld, and has contributed to The Los Angeles Times, The New York Times, Wired, Fandango and Variety, among others. He can be reached at bill@awn.com.

May 1, 2011 0 comments

Features

Film School Confidential: Does It Really Matter?

by Edward Landler September 1, 2010

written by Edward Landler 13 minutes read

by Edward Landler

In the age of YouTube, making movies no longer seems complicated. With an expanding range of visual media and easy access to affordable camcorders and editing software, many can shoot and arrange scenes without a big crew.

Nancy Richardson, left, photo by Gregory Schwartz, and Alan Heim, photo by Gregory Schwartz.

“The only way to learn to manipulate images is by actually doing it,” says Oscar- winning editor and Editors Guild Vice President Alan Heim, A.C.E. Nancy Richardson, A.C.E., Guild Board member and editor of Twilight, agrees, saying “Film school or not, the bottom line is you learn by editing.”

But some aspects of working in a high-pressure, heavily financed, collaborative industry cannot be learned by working on one’s own. Editors Guild Magazine talked to a cross-section of Guild members about their backgrounds and preparation for working in Hollywood. Reflecting a broad range of learning experiences, they shared their thoughts about gaining an education in their field.

The process of learning editing has never been static. Former Guild President Donn Cambern, A.C.E., editor of Easy Rider and Romancing the Stone, started working when an apprentice system still existed in the studios. He moved up from apprentice to assistant music editor and within six months to music editor. He became a picture editor 12 years later.

Chic Ciccolini, MPSE, sound editor on many of Ron Howard’s films, had a part- time job in production while attending the School of Visual Arts in New York. Realizing he was learning more on the job, he left film school and made a two-year progression from messenger to shipping room to print checker to apprentice to assistant editor.

Now a picture editor, Joanne D’Antonio was an unpaid intern editing news film in New York when she looked into applying for film school at the University of Pennsylvania’s Annenberg School for Communication. The dean of the school told her, “You are where our students wish they were. You could keep learning on the job.” She took his advice and moved to Los Angeles. Within three years, she accumulated experience as assistant editor and sound editor and became a dialogue editor on Apocalypse Now.

Joanne D’Antonio, left, and Chic Ciccolini.

But the change in technology from film to digital editing practically short-circuited the apprentice system. Sound editor R. J. Kizer, ADR supervisor on Inception, says, “Schedules these days rarely allow for an editor to show assistants the how-and-why of decision-making.” Assistant editor and Guild Board member Sharon Smith Holley agrees. “In film, assistants would observe the cuts and changes and understand the reasons for them by taking notes for the editor, ” she says. “Now the assistant is in another room organizing the data and out- putting it.”

Experiencing this change while an assistant editor, Stephanie Hernstadt decided to go to the American Film Institute Conservatory. “The apprentice scenario has evaporated and assistant jobs are harder to find,” she says. “I went to film school to learn how to tell stories better.” Along with an MFA in editing, Hernstadt says the training qualified her for an “undocumented degree in post-production supervision” and has since worked as a post supervisor as well as an assistant in TV and movies.

“The film school has replaced the apprentice system,” says Cambern, who teaches at AFI. “If you can afford it, you are prepared to step into the real world with a strong sense of self, strong editing aesthetics, real skill sets and the ability to stand up to enormous pressure.”

With students constantly making films—short movies the first year and longer projects later—“the film schools are like little film studios,” adds Heim, who studied at City College of New York. “In film school, a student learns the whole process, so that in the real world you can understand how your job fits into the whole process,” explains Richardson, a graduate from and a professor at the UCLA School of Theatre, Film and Television.

Also at school, Hernstadt says, “You pay for the privilege to make mistakes and not get fired.” Similarly, Kizer says his years at NYU were a protective bubble that he could “use as a playground and try any- thing. That’s where I discovered I really liked editing.”

Brad Buecker, left, and Stephanie Hernstadt.

“You find your own voice in film school,” says Brad Buecker, supervising producer and editor for TV’s Glee and editor of the recently released Eat Pray Love. “You learn how to talk about story. Later that helps on the job. On Glee, the entire editorial team gets involved in the storytelling process. Everyone needs to be able to communicate.”

“The ability to articulate is part of what makes you a good editor,” says Richardson. “You have to learn how to articulate your views about story, performance and what the scene is about,” Cambern adds. “It’s learning the language.” Students viewing and discussing contemporary and classic films, and how film storytelling has evolved, is part of this learning as well. “If you don’t think you need to know film history, you need to go to film school,” says Buecker, who took a summer program at USC and a dramatic writing class at NYU before attending the AFI.

These discussions help students form long-lasting friendships as they discover they share tastes and outlooks. “School provides a network of friends; it creates a community,” says Richardson. “Later, when one person gets a feature, their friends work on it. That’s harder to come by without the film school background.”

“At USC, I hooked into a network of people I loved to work with and continue to work with,” adds Rocket Science editor Yana Gorskaya. “My first four major jobs were from referrals from faculty. But I know not everyone can say that. I’m fully aware of how lucky I am.” “Every dime I’ve made in this town came from my first year at AFI,” Buecker states. “The contacts made in the editing program got me work.”

Tom Fleischman, left, photo by Kfir Ziv, and Yana Gorskaya.

Re-recording mixer Tom Fleischman, MPSE, CAS––who often works with Martin Scorsese and Spike Lee––dropped out of NYU after three semesters. The son of Dede Allen, A.C.E., he grew up immersed in the atmosphere of story and editing. “In film school, I wasn’t learning anything I did- n’t know already,” he reveals. “Film school would be good for someone with no back- ground in the dramatic arts.” Fleischman grew up with the contacts, too, proving that some luck in finding connections may come from being in the major centers of film activity. Academic programs outside those centers could offer an education in the art and craft of filmmaking, but may not have a faculty that can provide significant contacts.

Despite that, assistant editor Holley interned on Robert Altman’s Health on loca- tion in Florida while she was in high school. After graduating from the University of Florida, she found more location work on Hollywood movies which led to more work and to her move into post-production.

Without the benefit of a film school, Holley says that other venues can help a would-be editor piece together an educa- tion and find both contacts and work. For example, a focused selection of seminars and programs offered by film organiza- tions, film festivals and university exten- sions can offer grounding for a determined individual. “The Academy recently offered a four-week educational series—open to the public—about editing called ‘Cut to the Chase,’” says Holley. “In one session, Richard Chew showed how the zoom lens changed editing. This is tremendously useful to both professionals and stu- dents.”

Hughes Winborne, left, photo by Gregory Schwartz, and Sharon Smith Holley, photo by Wm. Stetz.

Oscar-winning Crash editor Hughes Winborne’s film school experience was limited to an intensive NYU program where he made three 16mm films in six weeks. Drawn instinctively to editing— “nobody else wanted to stay late in a dark room”—Winborne became an assistant editor on a shoestring-budget movie. One day he was sent out for coffee and came back to find the editor gone. He took over the job. Honing his craft editing corporate films and TV documentaries led him to Slingblade and to work in Los Angeles. There he had the luck of finding a mentor in director Daniel Petrie, Sr. “He navigated me through the social and political realities of the business,” Winborne says.

Big Brother editor Rod Schultheiss majored in film theory at the University of Colorado, but took only one Super-8 film- making course––having no intention of going into production work. His real training as an editor came on the job. Originally a post-production coordinator, he learned different aesthetics working on sports promos, video graphics shorts, music videos, documentaries, game shows and then reality shows. Schultheiss learned story structure from putting together longer-format shows. “In reality shows, you are crafting story scripts as you edit,”he says. Holley echoes Schultheiss’ experience, observing, “Today, you can work up through the post-production house, and that might be working on trailers, training and industrial films, commercials and airline versions of movies.”

Rod Schulthesiss, left, and Erich Gann.

Supervising sound editor on TV’s Sons of Anarchy, Erich Gann is a good example of working one’s way up through a post-production house, starting at Smart Post Sound in 2006. Before coming to Los Angeles in 1999, he mixed albums for rock bands and got additional tech training in music post-production at Full Sail University in Orlando. The LA Film School had developed Full Sail as a technical training facility for film and video as well as music. While he was there, Gann started working on film and video projects.

Similarly, Luis Galdames, MPSE, sound effects editor on House M.D., came from a music background, where he learned ProTools. He trained five months at the LA Recording Workshop (now the LA Recording School, affiliated with LA Film School), learning post-production, scoring- to-picture and Foley editing. But it was the luck of having director Alexander Payne as a neighbor that brought him his first job as assistant sound editor to supervising sound editor Frank Gaeta, MPSE. “The school was the starting point. The hard-core train- ing is really on the job and who you know,” Galdames says.

The change from film to digital editing represents a change in learning and an obligation to keep up with constantly evolving software. “Today, the mastery of the computer is a given, no matter what the back- ground,” says Cambern. “You have to learn the new technical skill sets.” Short-term and long-term training services and facilities abound for both picture and sound editing software—Avid “boot camps,” LA Film School, Apple stores, UCLA Extension, to name a few. But learning the computer skills is essentially technical. It does not teach story, character and rhythm—things emphasized in film schools. And coming out of tech training leaves students less likely to have formed the personal relationships necessary for the industry.

Luis Galdames, left, and Donn Cambern.

Many editors and mixers say they learn the new versions of software on their own as they come along, building on what they already know of the older versions. “When you figure it out your own way, you may not know the best way, but you get the job done,” says sound editor Kizer. “Later, you revise your method as you work with people who show you.” As systems become more complex, though, it is harder to learn the technology on the job. “It’s like watch- ing someone play a computer game,” Holley says. The work schedule doesn’t allow time for training.

Dody Dorn, A.C.E., editor on Memento and Australia, is a prime example of what she calls “the University of On-the-Job Training.” Her father was a set builder and B-movie producer. She skipped college, going to work as a production assistant in her late teens. She was capable, so productions kept pushing her into more responsible positions in an industry where the vast majority of jobs are blue-collar, no matter how well paid. Starting as an assistant— working on film—Dorn learned quickly and moved to editor, then sound editor, supervising sound editor and eventually owner of her own company, Sonic Kitchen, before returning to picture editing. Just as quickly, she adapted to the computer and the digital medium. “I wish I had the leisure of college to explore film history creatively,” Dorn says.

R.J. Kizer, left, and Dody Dorn.

“But I wound up doing it anyway. I fell in love with the magic of film through editing.” Everyone interviewed agrees about one thing that is difficult to learn outside the workplace: politics. “There is a hierarchy and protocol in our business that could be explained more clearly in detail by the schools,” says sound editor Ciccolini. “Working in the real world, I had to learn the political dynamic between producer, director, studio and editor,” Kizer adds. “Failure on the job isn’t an option,” notes editor Buecker, adding, “You learn the time to speak and the time not to speak.”

“You’ll want to collaborate with the director and be nice to the producer,” explains Cambern. “If they argue, don’t get in between them.” He adds, “If you see a better way to cut a scene, take the risk and show it to the director. You won’t get laid off and the director will take the credit for how well it plays. The director will remember you and hire you for his next movie.” Richardson concurs: “In my experience, when you are focused on making a good movie, the politics can be overcome.”

The education never ends. “Every good project I’ve worked on has led to more good things, with more aesthetic sense, more technical sense and more jobs,” says Buecker.

Ultimately, all interviewed agree with Heim when he says, “It’s still storytelling.”

“Whether you go to film school or not,” says editor D’Antonio in summary, “you have to have the innate ability.”

September 1, 2010 0 comments

Features

The Zimmermen: A Hollywood Editing Dynasty

by uncredited August 1, 2010

written by uncredited 11 minutes read

by Beige Luciano-Adams

Gathered together in the same cutting room on the 20th Century Fox lot, Don Zimmerman, ACE, and his three sons––Danny, Dean and David––have the peculiar ability to meander in and out of one another’s thoughts when they speak. Their memories are collective, multi-faceted, complementary.

The effect, made more acute by the fact that Danny and Dean are astonishingly identical twins, is rather like a single, hydra-headed Zimmerman. As they fall into what must be a familiar dialogue, one wisecrack leads to another and a collective uproar of laughter unleashes––like one voice split into harmonies.

Such strong ties are borne at home. But for this family, they are also the result of years spent together in Hollywood’s cutting rooms. All three sons have learned the master craft of picture editing under the tutelage of the paterfamilias, otherwise known as “Big D.” Now, after 17 years in the industry, much of it spent under Don’s direct guidance, Danny and Dean, 36, have each found their place in the world of commercial features, while David, who is a few years younger, recently joined the Editors Guild as an apprentice with his father.

In fact, all four were busy cutting three different movies for Fox: Don and David recently wrapped Marmaduke. Danny is finishing up on Predators; and Dean is working on Gulliver’s Travels.

Asked how it all happened, Don says, “I never pushed the kids to go into the business. I just encouraged them to be successful and happy whatever they did. I couldn’t care less if they were film editors or garbage collectors––as long as they are happy.”

Dean, left, Don, Danny and David Zimmerman on the 20th Century Fox lot. Photo by Deverill Weekes.

Nor did Big D have any aspirations to be a filmmaker himself; rather, he planned a career as a veterinarian. Then Vietnam happened. After the service, a friend got him into the industry and he eventually found a mentor in editor/director Hal Ashby, with whom he collaborated for more than a decade. Ashby promoted him to editor on Coming Home, the 1978 film that earned Zimmerman an Academy Award nomination.

Picture editor Don Zimmerman. Photo by Deverill Weekes.

Picture editor Don Zimmerman, ACE Photo by Deverill Weekes.

And, while Don says he didn’t intentionally groom them for the role, all three of his sons were steeped in their father’s work from an early age––and exposed to the powerful world he inhabited. For Danny, an early moment of inspiration came when the whole family appeared (as actors/extras) in Best Friends (1982), which gave him an opportunity to see Don at work, as well as his “first real tangible memory of the business.”

“Best Friends was definitely the tip of the iceberg,” says Dean. “But I think the thing that pushed me was when I went to a screening of Rocky III in1982,” where he recalls a packed audience at MGM’s Cary Grant Theatre, with Big D and Sylvester Stallone at the control panel and a fight scene that had him in tears. “I realized that’s the kind of impact I wanted to have on people’s lives; I wanted to impact them on an emotional level.”

Both twins left college at the age of 18 to start in the business, but while Dean joined his father as a post-production assistant and “just dove right in,” Danny says he “took the more theoretical approach” and decided to travel down the same path his father had. “I knew Don had worked with some sound companies, so I figured I’d start there and see where it took me. It gave me a more well-rounded idea of how the business works on both sides of post-production.”

“I never pushed the kids to go into the business,” says patriarch Don. “I just encouraged them to be successful and happy whatever they did. I couldn’t care less if they were film editors or garbage collectors––as long as they are happy.”

After a few years, Danny joined his father on The Nutty Professor (1996), on which he and Dean were second assistants, and stayed with them through several more films until breaking off on his own to edit The Omen (2006) for director John Moore.

Dean’s first solo gig came more recently––and after 15 years working alongside his father. “It was a real treat to get to work with director Shawn Levy on two movies, as an additional editor on Night at the Museum and as a co-editor with Don on Night of the Museum 2,” explains Dean. “Then Don very graciously let me do Shawn’s next movie, Date Night, by myself.”

Twin Styles

Picture Editor Dean Zimmerman. Photo by Deverill Weekes.

In style, Don notes that his twins are very similar. “They both have a great sense of storytelling. It’s who you’ve worked for,” he says, explaining that “Danny got pigeonholed into action drama,” whereas Dean worked with a lot of comedy directors and gravitated toward that genre. “But that’s not to say they couldn’t switch places and do the other equally as well,” Don adds. “We could do anything because you can’t tell which one of us it is,” quips Dean. He adds that working with Don, “a master of all trades,” prepared them to cut anything.

Under Big D, both sons came of age in a tradition of film editing, and the culture that accompanied it. For Ted Gagliano, head of post-production at Fox and a close family friend of the Zimmermans (all three sons credit him with helping them catch their first breaks), Don represents that culture, its ethos and its ethics.

“He’s an editing god,” says Gagliano. “And not just on how he pushes the computer buttons, but how he runs the room––that sort of old school of running post-production where the editor was the captain of the ship.” Because he and Don grew up in that tradition, says Gagliano, “I just have this great respect for him. He was one of my mentors and then we both transitioned to digital together.”

“A lot of editors coming into the business now have a limited experience of what film used to be, how editors used to cut on film,” explains Danny. “And Dean and I were fortunate; we were able to be a part of that bridge. We learned the original way my dad used to cut and then made the transition to the electronic, nonlinear world of editing.”

Picture editor Dan Zimmerman. Photo by Deverill Weekes.

The experience, he says, afforded him a sense of being a more “complete editor,” and helped him hone a different set of skills. “It’s not just about button-pushing and taking direction,” Danny continues. “The old way of filmmaking made you think a lot more about story, performance and structure because it was a lot harder to

make multiple versions. You really had to work it out, massage the footage and know the footage really well to make the film.”

“For me, I’ve been with Don since 1993, and proud to say his longest-standing assistant ever,” Dean says (at which point Big D erupts in a torrent of kindly laughter). “We had the growing pains of going from film to digital together. He taught me, and I was in some way able to give a little back, having a little knowledge of the computers and helping him make that transition.”

Dean relays this with a healthy measure of humility and reverence that his brothers also employ when talking about their father.

And while Dean agrees with Don that today’s technology is “still just another tool, a faster tool,” he says, “The incredible thing about Don is that he could have it all in his head––he could put together and take apart a scene faster on film than I have ever seen, but be able to remember exactly how he had it previously. It’s that weird gift of recall.”

This trait––especially when it comes to remembering dialogue and numbers––is one the boys say they had from an early age. David recalls entire family road trips spent reciting movie quotes, which Dean says became the dominant tongue among the three brothers. “We movie-quoted each other to death,” adds Danny.

The Apprentice

Now apprenticing on his first film with Don, David marvels at his father’s ability to put together an impeccable first cut, while Dean says one of the most important things David has learned is to cut for performance. “That’s what’s interesting about the kids now; they can look at dailies and see the best performances,” Don says. “There isn’t really a formula for a way of cutting––wide, medium, tight—it’s all about: ‘What’s the performance?’ That’s what you go for. How do I tell the story best with the right people?”

Assistant Editor David Zimmerman. Photo by Deverill Weekes.

All three sons say they learned the creative process of storytelling from their father, crediting his generosity and openness as a mentor in their development. “Being raised around my father, when we go into his cutting room––and we spend a lot of time there––he shows the creative aspects of what he does,” says David. “I think we all take advantage of that,” says Dan. “It’s something for me that really separates him from other editors I know, and people who have family in the business—he’s really a teacher.”

Dean describes how this lent itself to the kind of creative, open collaboration that marked their work on several films together. “We feed off each other, and that’s how we were used to working. It was a snowball effect; a symmetry among all of us when we were in the thick of it.”

For the twins, who now have their own staffs, this collaborative, family-oriented culture shapes their own leadership style. “I’ll invite my assistant in while cutting a scene and ask him what he thinks,” says Danny, adding that he now understands why Big D would do the same. “It gives me a sense of how a scene is perceived.”

Dean notes that assistants were always treated like family and included in special occasions, “which led to a lot of collaboration. I say ‘my’ cutting room–– but it’s ‘our’ cutting room. I depend on my assistants and I want everyone’s opinion.”

“It never matters where a great idea comes from,” Danny interjects. “That’s right,” adds Don, watching quietly while his sons speak, making sure to give them the spotlight.

Reflecting on his own family and aspirations for his young children, Dean considers a question he’s never quite posed to his father: “Looking back, is this something you wanted for us––and is it something I’d want for my own children?”

After a brief moment, Don answers: “It was something that I never thought of insisting on or trying to steer my children into. But sometimes, it would be the opposite, because of the crazy hours and the time requested of us in this business. You’re dealing with deadlines and costs, and you’re constantly walking that line of financial and creative [responsibility].”

Don weighs this stress, the difficulty of the job and the time away from family against the lifestyle it affords. “It’s interesting that it was something I never pursued,” he says.

“Because I just want them to do whatever they want to do and be happy. So it’s fun for me now to relish in their successes.”

August 1, 2010 1 comment

Book Reviews

Hal Ashby, Bound for Glory

by uncredited May 1, 2010

written by uncredited 6 minutes read

by Ray Zone

Being Hal Ashby
Life of a Hollywood Rebel
by Nick Dawson
University Press of Kentucky
402 pps., hardbound, $37.50
ISBN: 978-0-8131-2538-1

Hal Ashby is the pre-eminent “hippie director” of the 1970s. Like David Lean and Robert Wise before him, he started out as an editor and worked his way up to directing. He got into editing as the fastest route to becoming a director. When he worked at Universal in 1950 as a Multilith mimeograph operator––a job he secured through the State Employment Department in Van Nuys––directors there advised him, “Get into editing. With editing, everything is up there on film for you to see over and over again. You can study it and ask why you like it, and why you don’t.”

Nick Dawson has written the first biography of Ashby, a work that examines the director’s tormented personal life and childhood, and traces the troubled personal skein into an exemplary body of work in motion pictures––first as an obsessive editor who won an Academy Award for cutting In the Heat of the Night (1967) and then as one of the most “laid back” directors of the 1970s, whose most accomplished films include Harold and Maude (1971), The Last Detail (1973), Shampoo (1975), Bound for Glory (1976), Coming Home (1979) and Being There (1979). Dawson was originally inspired by Peter Biskind’s account of Ashby in Easy Riders, Raging Bulls: How the Sex-Drugs-And-Rock-‘n’-Roll Generation Saved Hollywood (Simon & Schuster, 1998), and has produced an amplified look at a man and an era of filmmaking that students of 1970s Hollywood films will find richly engaging.

Dawson has nicely balanced the personal and professional sides of a filmmaker who was nothing if not obsessive about his work. Ashby’s friend, cinematographer Haskell Wexler, remarked, “In life, Hal was the consummate editor, and some people ended up on the cutting room floor.” Undoubtedly, the suicide of his father, James Thomas Ashby, at the age of 54 in 1942 (Hal discovered the body) had a great impact on Ashby’s emotional life and a subsequent inability to form long-lasting personal relationships.

To a great extent, the obsessive nature of the craft of editing was for Ashby a form of solace.

In 1955, at the age of 26, Ashby secured work as an assistant editor to chief editor Gene Fowler, Jr. on a Western, The Naked Hills (1956) at Republic, the largest Poverty Row studio at the time. This marked the beginning of Ashby’s obsession with editing and his full-on commitment to the craft, spending long stretches of time in the cutting room. “When film comes into a cutting room, it holds all the work and efforts of everyone involved up to that point,” Ashby observed. “The staging, writing, acting, photography, sets, lighting, and sound––it is all there to be studied again and again and again, until you really know why it’s good, or why it isn’t.”

Ashby subsequently was hired as fifth assistant editor on The Big Country (1958), directed by William Wyler, and worked under Bob Swink, chief editor on all of Wyler’s films since Detective Story (1951). Wyler shot a lot of coverage and his relationship with Swink was both loving and volatile. The director openly solicited ideas from his crews and editors and his highly communicative relationship with Swink was nothing if not passionate and collaborative. Ashby later admitted that there had been “a lot of yelling, hollering and swearing that went on down in those cutting rooms, but there was also about 18 tons of love floating around there, too!”

Ashby had great admiration for Swink, who took the young assistant editor with him when he moved on to The Diary of Anne Frank (1959). In an article titled “Breaking Out of the Cutting Room,” Ashby acknowledged Swink’s influence upon his work. “Once the film is in hand, forget about the script, throw away all of the so-called rules, and don’t try to second-guess the director,” Swink would say. “Just look at the film, and let it guide you. It will turn you on all by itself, and you’ll have more ideas on ways to cut it than you would ever dream possible.”

By 1964, Ashby had completed his “epic apprenticeship” under Swink as editor with Gore Vidal’s The Best Man (1964). To a great extent, the obsessive nature of the craft of editing was for Ashby a form of solace. Dawson notes, “Despite the hard work he did there, the editing room was for Ashby a haven, a retreat from reality that allowed him to contemplate the world and his place in it.”

Nick Dawson traces the troubled personal skein into an exemplary body of work in motion pictures.

Ashby’s association with director Norman Jewison, on films such as The Cincinnati Kid (1965), The Russians Are Coming, The Russians Are Coming (1966), In the Heat of the Night (1967), The Thomas Crown Affair (1968) and Gaily, Gaily (1969), was highly beneficial and productive for both men. “Hal Ashby was, without doubt, the most committed editor I ever worked with,” stated Jewison. And it was through Jewison that Ashby received his first opportunity to direct with The Landlord (1970). The Cincinnati Kid, in particular, showing real snap and drive in the filmmaking and editing, was important for both men. Jewison acknowledged that it “really kind of saved me emotionally” and said that it was “the one that made me feel like I had finally become a filmmaker.” “I also got my head together at the same time,” observed Ashby. “I was feelin’ good, and from there on, things really happened.”

With In the Heat of the Night, Jewison acknowledged, “So much of this film, and the success of this film…came through in the editing process with Hal Ashby. What is great about the editing––and what Hal preserved in this film constantly––is those moments without any dialogue, which essentially are the best moments in a movie, regardless of what the scriptwriters tell you, because it’s the human moments, the emotional moments that we hang on to.”

Despite winning the Oscar for editing In the Heat of the Night, Ashby was ambivalent about receiving the award, just barely showing up in time to take the stage at Santa Monica Civic Auditorium to receive it. “The competition—particularly Dede Allen who edited Bonnie and Clyde—was too good,” said Ashby. “I felt my award was part of the sweep for In the Heat of the Night. I went so far as to try and apologize to Dede, a friend of mine and possibly the best editor in the business.”

Though he did participate in editing the films that he subsequently directed, Ashby knew by 1970 that he was ready to move on to directing. “Studio editing rooms are the most depressing places in the world,” he remarked. “I worked in those tiny rooms with those institutional green walls till I thought I’d go crazy.” The world of motion pictures is the richer for it.

May 1, 2010 0 comments

Tail Pop

Sam Peckinpah’s ‘The Wild Bunch’ (1969)

by uncredited May 1, 2010

written by uncredited 4 minutes read

by David Handman, ACE

I was 14 years old in the summer of 1969. Both Robert F. Kennedy and Martin Luther King, Jr. were assassinated the year before and, with the Vietnam War escalating, the civil rights and anti-war movements were in high gear on high school and college campuses across the country. Times were changing, and pop culture reflected it. On August 7, 1969, two weeks after Easy Rider and two weeks before Woodstock, Warner Bros. released Sam Peckinpah’s The Wild Bunch, firing a warning shot to the older generation that they better change with the times or risk irrelevance.

Set during the Industrial Revolution, The Wild Bunch follows a group of aging outlaws whose biggest problem is their inability to change with the times. Progress is the greatest threat to their way of life, and they see no way of living beyond their guns. From the start, Peckinpah introduces us to the violent world his characters inhabit, and presents a theme that runs through all his work: Violence is part of our nature––in the very DNA that we pass on through generations––and all that separates us from wild animals is a moral code.

In the opening scene, the bunch rides into Starbuck, a frontier town on the Texas/Mexico border, to rob the bank. Along the way, they pass a group of children at play burning a nest of scorpions. On the other side of town, a church group is forming a temperance march. At the same time, a group of bounty hunters, hired by the railroad, lie in wait on a rooftop across the street from the bank. A collision course is set in motion, brilliantly crafted by editor Lou Lombardo, which builds tension by inter-cutting between the groups. The sequence climaxes with the bunch using the townspeople as human shields to make their escape.

The industry was going through a tidal wave of change then, and Peckinpah’s warning in 1969 to embrace it or risk irrelevance was particularly prescient for editors. Our tools were changing from project to project as the industry transitioned from film to computers.

Slow-motion cuts are splashed at key moments underscoring the violence. A horse falls through the bank window. A man is shot to the ground. Time seems to momentarily stand still, then resumes at break-neck speed. Ironically, the effectiveness of its technique led the film to be criticized at the time for glorifying violence––even though it was intended to serve as a cautionary reminder of what happens when men give in to their most savage impulses, and the collateral damage that society suffers as a result.

I had been wrestling with the idea of majoring in film and, after seeing The Wild Bunch, decided to apply to USC School of Cinematic Arts, where I’d later write a paper about it, and focus on editing. I graduated in 1976 and got a job as an apprentice editor at Studio Center, where I began learning the craft much the same way it had been taught since the beginning––by repetition.

Every task seemed to involve countless repetitions of splicing film. Later, as an assistant, I maintained the editor’s workflow by organizing the dailies, filing the trims and keeping the codebook. I began to think like an editor and eventually was promoted. Then, almost overnight, everything changed.

I became an editor in the late 1980s. The industry was going through a tidal wave of change then, and Peckinpah’s warning in 1969 to embrace it or risk irrelevance was particularly prescient for editors. Our tools were changing from project to project as the industry transitioned from film to computers, and many who couldn’t adapt were forced to retire. I was learning new systems as they developed so I could keep working, from the Montage to the CMX 2000 to Lightworks to Avid. Even now I’m learning Final Cut Pro for the project I’m currently on. In time, computers made my job much easier. Now I’m a member of the older generation, and recognize a responsibility to create new workflows that help groom the next generation of editors in an environment that has me much more isolated from my assistant than it was for me coming up.

The Wild Bunch was re-released last year on Blu-ray to commemorate its 40th anniversary, and, as one of the great anti-war films of its era, it remains as relevant today as it was in 1969. In the aftermath of 9/11, the torture of terror suspects points to the fragility of our moral code in the same way the My Lai Massacre did in 1968, and men and women who are my age—when I was almost drafted during Vietnam—are fighting today in Iraq and Afghanistan. But 40 years after the assassinations of Kennedy and King, the first black president resides in the White House, suggesting to me that even if the cycle of violence hasn’t been broken, at least we’re evolving.

May 1, 2010 0 comments

Features

The Silent Revolutionary: Carol Littleton

by uncredited January 1, 2010

written by uncredited 16 minutes read

by Michael Mallory

Carol Littleton, ACE, has never been one to sit back and wait for something to happen. Instead, she makes things happen.

For example, as a novice film editor in the late 1970s, she did not wait around patiently, hoping for jobs to come her way. Rather, Littleton took charge of her career by forming her own commercial editing company.

Former Editors Guild President Carol Littleton, ACE. Photo by Wm. Stetz

Experiencing first-hand the difficulty of breaking into what was virtually a closed shop, she did not spend her time complaining about the status quo, but managed to join the Motion Picture Editors Guild and then ran for office, ultimately becoming President of the Guild in 1988––a position from which she led a “silent revolution” that changed the bylaws governing union eligibility and planted the seed for bringing together the Los Angeles and New York locals.

She has continued to serve the Guild and the industry in a variety of capacities on and off (mostly on) for two decades, including sitting on the Academy of Motion Picture Arts and Sciences’ Board of Governors.

Through it all, of course, Littleton has made her mark on the cinema. Her longtime collaboration with writer/director Lawrence Kasdan began in 1981 with Body Heat and continued for seven more films. The following year, Littleton was asked by Steven Spielberg to cut E.T.: The Extra-Terrestrial; her work on that film garnered nominations for an Academy Award, the British Academy of Film and Television Arts (BAFTA) Award and the American Cinema Editors (ACE) Eddie Award. More recently, a rare excursion into television for 1999’s Tuesdays with Morrie netted her an Emmy Award. Littleton took time out from her current project, The Rum Diary, to speak with CineMontage Magazine.

CineMontage: Your earliest credit was as a sound effects editor on Alan Rudolph’s Premonition. How did you move into picture editing?

Carol Littleton: After Premonition, I worked for two years for Richard Einfeld, an editor who had a very small sound facility that did dailies, transferring from quarter-inch to 35 or 16mm. I really wanted to be an editor at the time and Richard gave me my first opportunity. The first time I encountered an editing room, I knew editing was for me. I was a literature student and very interested in music––and editing somehow embodied all the things that I felt were my strengths.

But when I moved to LA in 1970, there were only two ways you could work in film until about 1980: either as a union or a non-union editor. There was no way to work on any Hollywood projects unless you were in the union, and practically the only way to get into the union was through nepotism. If you had a parent or an influential friend who happened to be an editor, it was very easy to join the Guild. But if you didn’t, the only way was to work at a company that signed a union contract.

A lot of younger editors don’t have the discipline that we had in film, where you really had to think about what you were doing before you started to edit. Now, with our digital tools, a lot of editors just start cutting and they don’t think about a plan ahead of time; they think it will evolve while they edit. It’s like being a writer and not having an outline before you start to write. You can see right away that’s not the way to write. Well, that’s not the way to edit either.

Right after I worked for Richard, I formed my own post-production company for commercials, because I saw that as the only way I was going to advance and learn the craft. One of my steady clients was a cameraman/director named Jerry Simms of Jerry Simms Productions. He signed a union contract, and because I had pay stubs that went through his company, I eventually got in the union. But there were still roadblocks, plenty of them.

Unfortunately, the group system of seniority kept newly minted members of the Guild from working. I was bumped off of lots of jobs because I didn’t have seniority. And too, I was discouraged by so many people: “The work is too competitive for a woman.” “Women will never work as long as men with families are looking for work.” “Why do you want to work in film when you already have a successful commercial company?” “You are setting yourself up for failure.” You have no idea how many established Hollywood editors told me: “Forget it.”

CM: Is that why you set out to change things for others?

CL: This plays very directly into how I got involved in the Guild. I didn’t want anybody to have to go through those hoops and confront what I did. There were two separate workforces––a non-union workforce of younger people like myself, who were getting their training however they could, and the old, entrenched Hollywood that was protected by the unions and the studio system. It was clear that the established system was falling apart. There was an emerging non-union work-force that was not only qualified, but also unbelievably talented. Our reforms started more or less when I became President and brought in my friends, people that had the same beef as I did.

CM: A lot of union disputes are very loud—SAG’s for instance—yet you call this one “a silent revolution.” How did you keep it silent?

CL: You have to realize that editors are quite different than actors. We are, by nature, listeners and negotiators. We negotiate what the director wants, what the producers want, and hopefully we are able to come out on the other side with a movie that is not only edited artistically, but also addresses the needs of everybody involved. We don’t particularly like to stir things up; that’s just our mindset. We got involved in this silent revolution because we really felt we could change the Guild from the inside, and that the quickest and the best way to fix it would be to change the rules and ultimately change our bylaws so that more people could be admitted based upon merit.

Director Lawrence Kasdan, left, assistant editors Mia Goldman and Bruce Cannon, and Carol Littleton in The Big Chill cutting room in 1983. Photo courtesy of Mia Goldman

CM How did your association with Lawrence Kasdan begin?

CL: Larry had worked directly with George Lucas on The Empire Strikes Back, Return of the Jedi and Raiders of the Lost Ark, and George knew me because my husband [cinematographer John Bailey] and he had been in the same graduating class at USC. Plus, I had worked with Willard Huyck and Gloria Katz, who were close friends and collaborators with Lucas on French Postcards. This gave Larry the idea to call me. You know, sometimes you’re in the right place at the right time. I was lucky.

Larry gave me a copy of the script of Body Heat to read. Later, he told me that I was able to talk to him about it in a way that the other editors he had interviewed did not. Even more importantly, he felt that a woman would be able to cut the scenes that were more explicit in their sexual content in a more erotic way, making them more implicit. And that’s precisely what happened. We had several scenes that were very explicit, and together we refashioned them to make them more suggestive, more erotic. Others scenes landed on the cutting-room floor. Larry still has the lifted scenes, if you are interested!

CM: Is that initial meeting between you and the director a vital element of the job?

CL: The initial interview after you’ve read the script is probably the most important step, because not only does the director understand who you are, but you have an idea who the director is. After all, we spend a lot of time together in collaboration on the project. A case in point: I’m from rural Oklahoma and when I interviewed with Robert Benton for Places of the Heart, I knew right away the context of his film, Texas in 1936. I knew those people, their stoicism and dry, laconic humor. Benton and I had an instant simpatico relationship. Editors bring so much of their own experiences and tastes to their projects. Perhaps that is why we continue to love our work.

CM: You seem to move from very big studio films to very small independents, like In the Land of Women. How do you choose your projects?

CL: I don’t really care about the budget, how big or little it is. I really focus on the story, and if it’s a story and narrative that interests me, I want to do it. You’ll notice in my credits that I gravitate toward purely narrative films in the sense of strong screenplays, human dramas, rather than high-tech movies. I don’t edit films that have gratuitous violence. I like comedies, but I gravitate toward the ones in which the comedy stems from the characters as opposed to the situations in which they find themselves. I like stories where characters have very fixed ideas, where the humor comes from their unbending qualities, where the characters are self-contained and never step outside the story or are aware that they are “funny.” Some call these films “dramedies,” though I don’t like the term.

CM: How did you make the connection with Steven Spielberg for E.T.?

CL: It was through Larry Kasdan that my name came up. Steven was working on Raiders of the Lost Ark, which Larry wrote, during the time we were working on Body Heat. Steven told me, “A Boy’s Life–– E.T’s working title––is a little film that I want to do very quickly, and my longtime editor [Michael Kahn] is working on Poltergeist. I need someone good, and Larry said I should meet with you.” I went into his office at MGM to read the script on site. Afterwards, we talked, and he said he would get back to me on Thursday. On Thursday morning, he called and said, “Come in and talk to Wally [the unit production manager], and sign your start slip.”

CM: Did dealing with so many kids change the dynamic of shooting, and therefore the editing?

CL: It wasn’t the kids as much as it was E.T., the puppet. The kids were great and Steven is fantastic with children. He would engage them in games in between takes and relate to them like little people, not like little kids. They enjoyed the process, which was more like a game to them than work. The kids’ performances were not only engaging but also emotionally truthful and natural.

Our big concern was whether people would really believe in this little puppet or whether the first time they looked at it they would say, “Oh my God, that’s just a pile of rubber!” Most of our effort went into getting the puppet to work, not mechanically, but as a personality…how he reacted to and with the kids. When we shot one part of a scene, or one single motion, we’d shoot a whole magazine. Ten minutes of a hand movement to synchronize with a head movement, one gesture at a time. It was quite remarkable.

Carol Littleton editing White Palace (1990) on location with Beaufort.

CM: You have worked with your husband, cinematographer John Bailey, on several occasions, including China Moon, which he directed. Is that different than working with someone who is not so close?

CL: It was very difficult, because there was no way to walk away from work, to get a fresh view. Emotionally, it was exhausting. Directors are on the firing line, and I felt that every blow to John was a blow to me. I realized I had to harden myself to that and not take things so personally on his behalf [laughter].

CM: You were among the first to really embrace the new digital technology for editing…

CL: We knew right away that if the Guild did not embrace the new technology, some editors would be left behind. The Guild adopted a training program to help make the transition from film to digital. A lot of editors and assistants did not want to retrain and learn a new system. A lot of the older editors simply dropped out of the business in the early ‘90s. When we started using the digital systems–– Lightworks and Avid–– there was a lot of resistance. Those of us who were more flexible and willing to adapt to the new technology have survived. Those who said, “I’m only going to work on film” had difficulty.

CM: Do you think the resistance was based in ideology?

CL: I rather suspect it was more like, “This is the way we’ve always done it and we’ve made good movies.” And they’re absolutely right. Who’s to say that Lawrence of Arabia would be a better movie if Anne Coates had edited it digitally? The Avid is a tool, and like all tools it can be misused. I am still a film editor at heart, although I work on an Avid. I think about what I want to do before I start to do it.

A lot of younger editors don’t have the discipline that we had in film, where you really had to think about what you were doing before you started to edit. The time and the physical effort it took to execute a scene was considerable.

You asked yourself a lot of questions before starting to edit. What is the dramatic intent of the scene? Where do I want to be in the scene? Who is reacting and who is acting? Where are the nuances? If there was a take where the actor was better in this part of the take, and there was another part that was better in take 10, and another part that was better in take 15, and another that was better in take 1, you thought about how you could weave all those pieces together to create a dramatically cohesive performance.

Now, with our digital tools, a lot of editors just start cutting and they don’t think about a plan ahead of time; they think it will evolve while they edit. It’s like being a writer and not having an outline before you start to write. You can see right away that’s not the way to write. Well, that’s not the way to edit either.

Another outcome of the digital technology is how films are shot. Directors used to weigh their choices and carefully plan the day’s work. Now, I refer to the fire-hose method of mise-en-scène where everything is shot with multiple cameras, never stopping until everything is wet. “Oh, we’ll figure it out in editorial.” This method of shooting is not cinema.

CM: How can a novice editor acquire the editorial mindset?

CL: I think that storytelling discipline comes from reading; being an analytical reader is the first step. If you can analyze the script and stick to the story, you will have a good take on the movie. Sam O’Steen, who’s one of my idols as an editor––though I didn’t really know him that well, I only met him on a couple of occasions––knew how to keep a story rolling. Another idol of mine, Hal Ashby, was a master editor. He knew that the emotional life on screen was delicate and had to be meticulously explored, that every element in storytelling worked in tandem.

Carol Littleton with assistant editor Gib Jaffe on The Mafu Cage in 1978.
Photo courtesy of Karen Arthur

CM: What do you look for in an assistant?

CL: I am very interested in an assistant who wants to be an editor, who wants to be a part of thinking about a film––in getting the story to work. I’m always looking for assistants who are really sharp and have the “editor gene” [laughter]. I’ve co-edited with many of my assistants, to give them a leg up, and almost all of them are editors now. Mia Goldman started as an apprentice and then went from apprentice to second assistant to first assistant. She was my co-editor on Silverado and is now a writer/director. Suzanne Spangler suffered 12 long years, working her way up the career ladder from apprentice to assistant and finally to editor with me on The Anniversary Party. Here are more past assistants who are now editors: Lisa Churgin, Jill Savitt, Barbara Tulliver, Norman Buckley, Gib Jaffe, Bruce Cannon, Raul Davalos and Marty Levenstein. I am probably forgetting someone and will hear about it!

CM: Do you ever see yourself moving up to director?

CL: No, no, I have no ambitions for that. My temperament is such that I get on a set and just go crazy. I prefer the calm, reflective sanctuary of the editing room.

January 1, 2010 0 comments

Features

Carol’s Colleagues: Some Words from Her Admirers

by Michael Kunkes January 1, 2010

written by Michael Kunkes 71 minutes read

compiled by Michael Kunkes

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Dede Allen.

Carol is a wonderful person and a terrific editor. She is someone that I’ve always had great respect for and whose work I’ve always admired. Congratulations on this award, Carol; you’ve earned it!

Dede Allen, ACE
Colleague, and 2008 recipient of the Editors Guild Fellowship and Service Award

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Karen Arthur.

Carol and I started out in the business together. I met her husband, John Bailey, when I was an AFI intern on Arthur Penn’s Night Moves, and John was the focus puller. We’d sit for hours talking about film, and he was always telling me about his wife Carol, who was this great editor. One day I said to John, “It would be so much fun if we all made a movie together.” One evening, I went to see a play called Legacy at the Actors Studio in Los Angeles, and I said, “This is it; this is our movie!” I bought the rights from Joan Hotchkis, the playwright, brought them the next night to see the play, and a few months later I had raised the money and we were making the movie. After Legacy, I worked with John and Carol again on The Mafu Cage, and though we never worked together again, we have been close friends all the rest of our lives.

Carol is from the “take no prisoners” school of filmmaking, and her benchmark of expectations is extraordinarily high. I would always plead with her to come onto the set, and she would just say, “Editors don’t come onto the set. For the editor, nothing matters but the film; it’s only about what happens in a dark room with the celluloid.” She didn’t want to be hampered by anything she might experience emotionally on the set, and that was a great lesson to me. Carol also taught me that it was better for the film if the first cut came from the editor, without a lot of input from the director. Since then, I have never tried to influence an editor one way or the other, and when I go to see a first cut, it is, to this day, the editor’s cut. That is a joy for me, and a delicious gift from an editor; it’s the way they see the movie based on the material they had to cut.

One of Carol’s many gifts is that she is completely non-judgmental and totally direct. I’ve never known anyone that she couldn’t work with, whether it was a brand-new, nubile child in the business, as I was, or a veteran director. She speaks everyone’s language, has an amazing resonance with art and music, and great taste in all things. She’s wickedly funny and fearless, always choosing projects that are eclectic. That eclecticism is all part of the broad sweep of life that she finds so fascinating. She has the kind of brio that is based on a deep intellect and a reverence and understanding of life in all its milieus. She is an extraordinary human being.

Karen Arthur
Director, Legacy (1976), The Mafu Cage (1978)

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Noah Baumbach.

The only difficulty I had working with Carol Littleton was rationing the time I’d spend asking her about all the great movies she’d edited. Carol climbs inside the movie. She lives and breathes it. She has no fixed ideas in advance––she’s totally open to the movie being what it wants to be. Her pitch is perfect; she instinctively knows how cutting a scene eight minutes in affects something 80 minutes later. Carol taught me that we begin each movie as amateurs––she knows so much about the craft, but she re-learns it with every new project. I feel lucky and privileged to have cut with her.

Noah Baumbach
Writer/Director, Margot at the Wedding (2007)

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Carol Littleton is one of the great film editors of this generation. Her work is eloquent and spare, never calling attention to itself, but always serving the narrative. She is a genius at teasing the best from actors, cinematographers and certainly, in my experience, writers and directors.

Robert Benton
Writer/Director, Places in the Heart (1984), Twilight (1998)

Robert Benton.

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I only worked with Carol on one film, Places in the Heart, as her second assistant editor. But our friendship has endured since those days in Waxahachie, Texas. We spent a lot of time together, drove up to Dallas to see movies and spent Thanksgiving together. Carol was extremely easy to work with, patient and companionable. I knew about her work on Body Heat, The Big Chill and E.T., so I was somewhat in awe and felt extremely lucky to have been hired by her.

Norman Buckley.

Carol taught me to think of editing as a Zen exercise, almost a meditation. Indeed, editing became a way for me to quiet my restless mind, and my editing skills have made me a better director. Her values and her interests in music, art, photography, politics and psychology inform her work and I learned a great deal about the work from our discussions in these areas. She taught me the value of perseverance in a business that demands such, and how to handle the politics of the business with grace and skill, as well as introducing me to many future colleagues. Her dedication and generosity are evidenced by her wonderful service as President of the Editors Guild, raising the profile of editors and demanding the recognition that the craft deserves. Her advocacy for the consolidation of the East and West Coast Guilds made things better for all of us. I owe Carol a great deal and will always be grateful that she took a chance on me. And I’m happy to have the chance here to say so.

Norman Buckley
Assistant Editor, Places in the Heart (1984)

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I have great admiration for Carol and am pleased that she is being given this very special award. While I have known Carol and her work for many years, it was when

Donn Cambern.

she became President of the Editors Guild that I realized her dedication to the labor movement. All you have to do to understand her commitment is talk with her, and you feel her intelligence and sense of purpose. It was through Carol’s efforts that the Guild opened its doors for new membership opportunities. Her presence as President raised the industry’s awareness of the Guild as she created a high bar for excellence and leadership. She has mentored many people into an editing career and helped them develop their skills. Carol is a true professional who brings every ounce of her knowledge to storytelling. Her collaborative skills make everyone enjoy working with her. The beauty of her work shows on the screen and influences many people to think more clearly as they edit their own work. Carol clearly deserves the Guild’s Fellowship and Service Award.

Donn Cambern, ACE
Colleague, Editors Guild Past President and 2007 recipient of the Editors Guild Fellowship and Service Award

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Charles L. Campbell.

Working with Carol on E.T.was a high point of my career. She is a most giving and gifted being. To work with her is to be in the company of a saint. Congratulations, Carol!

Charles L. Campbell
Supervising Sound Editor, E.T.: The Extra-Terrestrial(1982)

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I met Carol through my uncle, David Myers, who was the cinematographer on Roadie. She hired me for three weeks and I stayed with her for seven years before I began editing on my own. I always remember that while we were in Beaufort, South Carolina, working on The Big Chill, Carol rescued the first of her many cutting-room cats. She set up a cozy basket with a sheepskin for “Beaufort,” and even let him sit on her lap or on the KEM while she was cutting. One day, while Mia Goldman and I were reconstituting film, we heard a horrible, high-pitched shriek from Carol’s room. Beaufort’s tail had gotten caught in the spinning plate on the KEM. He always had a crook in his tail after that. Later, on Silverado, Carol hired the apprentice editor who later became my wife, and we’ve been married for 22 years.

Working on a film with Carol was much more than a job. You were part of a film family, and you were an important part of the final. We worked hard, had philosophical and political discussions, told stories and laughed a lot. Eating was taken very seriously. While other editors would keep assistants at a distance from high-profile directors, Carol involved everyone equally, and I can personally tell you that Steven Spielberg makes a great Matzoh brie!

Carol’s work is seamless. She is such a strong force, and yet her work appears invisible. She brings life experience to her work. She was a Fulbright scholar, and she

Bruce Cannon.

brings her love of literature, nature, music, photography and art into the editing room. She is persistent and tireless in the editing room until she feels that a scene is the very best it can be. Carol is also very supportive of her directors, and does everything she can to bring their vision to the screen and protect the actors’ performances. I’ve never met anyone with such uncompromising integrity.

In her “spare time,” Carol has brought her same work ethic, integrity and high standards to her commitment to the Editors Guild. Before she became President, it was nearly impossible to get in the union outside of nepotism or an amazing stroke of luck. Carol created an equitable system that would allow qualified editors to get in the union.

Carol was my mentor, and she set a standard of excellence that one had to live up to. So much of what I learned from Carol was through observation and osmosis; she taught me simply to listen to the film, and the film will tell you where to cut. I learned that it’s not about your ego or personal style; editing is about serving the material in front of you.

Bruce Cannon, ACE
Post-Production Assistant, Roadie; Assistant Editor, Body Heat, E.T., The Big Chill, Silverado

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I so enjoyed working with Carol on The Other Boleyn Girl and am very happy she is being honored in this way by the Guild. Carol is a true professional and artist. Sheis completely dedicated to her craft, and her experience and commitment to the film she is working on is amazing. Carol is generous and fun to be with in the cutting room. She’s very happy to share her knowledge and experience, and to take the time to pass this experience on. She is also quick to take on new ideas or thoughts and try them out. I feel very lucky to have spent time with Carol. She is a true master of the craft.

Justin Chadwick
Director, The Other Boleyn Girl (2008)

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Jeremiah Chechik.

I remember sitting with Carol screening dailies. It was the first or second day of principal photography on Benny and Joon and I was despondent. I was kicking myself for all the compromises I was forced to make because of the budget and schedule. I sat slumped next to her bemoaning the fact that I was not getting the coverage I needed to make the film. I was apologizing to her because I knew it would make her life tough in the cutting room. But when I looked over to her, she seemed delighted. She was as relaxed as I was tense and was thoroughly enjoying the process, scribbling her notes and nudging me and pointing at the screen.
She leaned over to me and whispered, “You know, Jer, each film is its own thing. With its own life, and its own framework. Each film has compromises and each film is realized with both the advantages of script, performances, budget and time. But each film is unique. You have to learn not to force this. Surrender to the film you are making. Believe it to be wonderful. Guide yourself within its own unique style and let it embrace you. Above all, enjoy making it.”

She probably said it in a phrase or two, but it struck me like a bolt of lightning. Immediately, my heartbeat slowed, my body relaxed and I began to see the dailies as they were. I began the process of enjoying the film’s every moment––making it and, above all, cutting it. I have taken that advice along with me in all the work I have had the good fortune to direct. Even when the days are long and the exhaustion is consuming, I hear Carol’s words as clearly as ever.

Among her many gifts as an editor, it is her amazing intuition and ability to craft the inner life of a performance from the many pieces of film that continues to astonish me. I always know that no matter how nuanced the moment, how delicate the breath, how subtle the shade, she will see it for more than what it is.

She will make all those around her greater. Not just the actors or directors with whom she works, but the composers, designers, writers and assistants––many of whom grow to be amazing in their own right. I consider it a privilege to have worked with her, but an even greater privilege to be her friend.

Jeremiah Chechik
Director, Benny & Joon (1993); Diabolique (1996)

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I became Carol’s first assistant after Bruce Cannon went on to become a full-time editor. Vibes was the first film we worked on together, and I knew right away that

Lisa Zeno Churgin.

working for this great editor was going to be an amazing, life-changing experience. Early in my career, I would listen to the radio while I worked. But when I started working for Carol, I stopped doing that and I would just listen to her cut film—subconsciously learning how she was developing the rhythm and structure of a scene and a performance. As an editor, that is her gift to the world, that ability to find the essence of truth in a performance.

When I became her assistant, Carol was very open and generous about handing me the responsibility for setting up the editing room. She delegated a lot of responsibility to me right from the beginning, and that is a tradition I’ve always carried on with my own assistants. It shows that you have a respect and appreciation of the jobs of the people working under you. She took the time to show me tricks of the trade and all the little things that go into being an editor. These were rarified moments where I felt I was truly being given a gift.

As Guild President, and later Vice-President, Carol wanted to change the nature of the way in which editors were treated by the studios, as well as the ways in which the Guild itself took on new members. She was extremely forward-thinking in terms of unionizing the workforce and visualizing the changes in the industry that are now coming to pass. She understood how many people were truly out there who wanted to join the union and fight to get shows organized.

Because she believed that the cream of the talent would rise to the top, she became instrumental in moving the Guild down the path toward several huge changes, among them the system that made it easier for editors to join the union, the 19- and 21-day rules and the merger with the New York local. She just did things that made sense, and set the example for me of being an involved and caring leader in the Guild. Carol is all about quality—quality of work, and quality of life. She is my mentor in the truest sense of the word.

I want to thank you, Carol, for providing me with an example of how it can and should be done. With your grace, talent, humility and especially kindness, you have shown that we work best in a collaborative environment. So it is with love and affection that I congratulate you on getting this award. Nobody is more deserving than you.

Lisa Zeno Churgin, ACE

Editors Guild President; Assistant Editor, Vibes (1988), The Accidental Tourist (1988)

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A first, it was all about the cut. That was my obsession. Did it match? Was it smooth? Did it work? That was “BC,” or “Before Carol.” I was young, but the fascination with editing had been stewing for many years, from the junior high school days of purchasing 8mm condensed versions of epic features like The Bridge on the River Kwai and cutting it up with shots from Mighty Joe Young to create a film better than the sum of its parts––or so I thought.

It wasn’t until years later, while working on the third of my eight films with Carol––The Accidental Tourist––that a higher art form was revealed to me. On the first two films, I was too nervous about getting the job done right to notice Carol’s deliberate and thoughtful process of shaping the film. On Tourist, I saw the bigger picture very clearly and thought, “It’s the story, stupid!”

The youthful naiveté of obsessing with the individual cuts now seemed like a fledgling writer obsessing with the font. The text may look great with its fancy serifs, but the storytelling is dreadful and unreadable. I was able to see first-hand how Carol and director Lawrence Kasdan shaped the emotion of the scenes and, in turn, the whole film by trimming a look, dropping a line or changing the order in which scenes appear. What a great place for a young editor to be, witnessing the shaping of the overall two-hour experience by subtle and thoughtful editing.

Every director that has worked with Carol should know that the best version of the film they made was ultimately presented to audiences because of her intuitive sense of story, her loyal collaboration, and her masterful craftsmanship.

After 25 years and eight films working with Carol, I’d like to think I’ve learned a thing or two about editing; but the real growth has come from being her friend. Carol’s unassuming manner, her easy welcoming charm, her smart and considerate advice, and her unflagging enthusiasm for life has very clearly inspired me personally and professionally. Thank you, Carol!

Raul Davalos, ACE
Apprentice Editor, Silverado (1985); Assistant Editor, Vibes (1988), The Accidental Tourist (1988), White Palace (1990), Benny & Joon (1993), China Moon (1994), Wyatt Earp (1994); Co-Editor, Dreamcatcher (2003)

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Jonathan Demme.

Carol Littleton? She strides down the hall and into her cutting room after screening the latest version of her current work-in-progress, with the director––mind awash with the enormity of the excitement, challenges, questions, fears, puzzles, opportunities, etc., generated by the screening––trailing, maybe a little overwhelmed, behind. So much to address! So little time! Where to begin?

Littleton places her mug of tea and slice of cake just so in front of the blank screen and takes a seat in her high-tech swivel-backed gliding editor’s chair. The chair rolls Carol up into position in front of her space-center console, with no apparent effort on her part. She flicks on the technology and an image from the movie appears on the screen. Littleton starts moving cursors and pushing buttons, quietly humming a melody that’s hard to place, but sends a subtle, reassuring message. The director looks on as she says to the world of cinema at large, “What do you say we try something a little like this?” Another push of the button, and the Littleton magic is flowing.

So that’s where to begin––by getting back to work. But it must be said, as any lucky member of the Littleton Inner Circle Club knows, it doesn’t feel very much like work when you find yourself inside Carol’s cutting room, which, after all, is actually the thrilling and action-packed portal into Carol Littleton’s ever-so-brilliant mind and oh-so-generous heart.

The evidence of what happens when this particular heart and mind are applied to the art of taking a raft of moving images and sounds and then fashioning them into a motion picture is there for all to see with a glance at Carol’s eyebrow-raising filmography. Storyteller, filmmaker, humanist, humorist, leader, collaborator, teacher, friend, continent trekker.

Constantly inventive, tireless and inspiring, Carol passionately searches for the very best possible way to pull everybody’s best efforts together to create the finest movie imaginable. And it is an indescribable blast and honor to take that privileged journey with her.

Jonathan Demme
Director, Swimming to Cambodia (1987); Beloved (1998); The Manchurian Candidate (2004), Bob Marley: Stay with the Rhythm(2010); Writer/Director, The Truth About Charlie (2002)

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I first met Carol Littleton on the second movie I produced, Places in the Heart, filmed in a small town in Texas. She worked out of a garage and was very accepting of her below-modest surroundings––except for people who smoked in her work area or who put drink containers on her editing machine. In constant presence, however, were her cats, who could do no wrong.

She was very generous with me, a neophyte, and shared knowledge and technique of editing. Since I had begun my career in book publishing, I was very concerned with story. Her understanding of character and motivation was vast and her application of that understanding in editing was an invaluable contribution. I have worked with her again since then, and seen that although editing techniques and machines have been upgraded, she has remained a staunch practitioner of what story and characters must render in a film. Her work is an outstanding concomitant to the director’s intentions. And that is movie perfection.

Arlene Donovan
Producer, Places in the Heart (1984), Twilight (1998)

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I was one of Carol’s assistants on Silverado, sitting in for Bruce Cannon, who was on another film. There were tens of thousands of feet of film coming in, which Joan

Dody Dorn.

Giammarco––the other assistant on the film––and I had to prepare for Carol. All day, every day, we would madly sync, code, log and prep KEM rolls. Finally ready, we’d roll the latest batch of dailies into her room, wipe the sweat from our brows and say, “Well, that should keep her busy for awhile!” Or so we thought.

A couple of hours later, Carol would come out of her room, looking all chipper, and say “You girls want to come and take a look at the scene?” Joan and I would look at each other in a panic, thinking, “Oh no, what do we give her now?” She would just fly through the material!

Well, of course, we did look at the scene, and when you are still learning, you can say some pretty silly things. Thankfully, Carol would listen to our comments, take them seriously and address each one openly––the same way she approached the material at large. I really appreciated that. Her respect for the alchemy of script, director, camera, production design and actors all coming together was acute. If something in a scene did not add up, she would go back to the script and search for what the director and writer had been going for.

A lot of what happens with editing can’t be articulated, but Carol’s willingness to share her process with us was refreshing and inspiring. I will always consider Carol a mentor.

Dody Dorn, ACE
Assistant Editor, Foley Editor, Silverado (1985)

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Carol is a gifted artist, but what I admire most is the way that she communicates and connects with people. She’s a wonderful storyteller, but she’s also better at listening and remembering than just about anyone I know. She’s generous and curious, confident in her opinions but gentle in sharing them. She’s diplomatic, she’s funny, she’s kind. Perhaps it all comes naturally to her––I’m not sure I’ve ever seen her ruffled––but not me. I work on these things, in life and in the cutting room, inspired by Carol. I feel lucky to know her.

Kate Eales
Assistant Editor, The Manchurian Candidate (2004)

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Tom Fleischman.

I first met Carol in 1983 on Places in the Heart, and we’ve worked together on eight films together in all. When we met, I was still new to my craft as a re-recording mixer. Having done all of my work in New York, it was the first time that I had worked with a Hollywood editor, and Carol had just finished cutting E.T. Needless to say, I was a bit nervous, but she put me right at ease. She asked me if I wanted the picture marked up for scene changes. I had to ask her what she was talking about, and she very patiently explained that most mixers in Hollywood like to have visual cues for the picture cuts for timing purposes. I had never heard of that and found it very interesting, but the effect of that little conversation was that it immediately made me feel like Carol respected me and that I was a part of the team. I was also immediately struck by the warmth and respect that she showed her co-workers as well as her dedication to her job.

The thing that I’ve always enjoyed about working with Carol is that she has a way of communicating the wishes of the oft-absent director that is clear and understandable. At the same time, she has always allowed me to experiment with ideas and techniques that strike me in the heat of the moment. In Places in the Heart, they were having trouble getting a visual effects shot of a tornado that looked acceptable, since this was 1983 and CGI was in its infancy. We were running out of time and Carol decided to cut around the problem and try to make it work with sound. So we had a tornado scene with no tornado and she told us to have fun and make it sound like there’s a tornado off camera. Everyone was running around with their hair on fire but Carol was cool as a cucumber. There was no drama, just confidence in her crew. It inspired us to have fun with it and come up with something that worked.

Carol has made me a better mixer because she always pushed me to make it just a little bit better, and taught me that I could push myself. She has also been a model for me of how to be a better person. In all the years I’ve known her, I can’t remember ever seeing her lose her temper––and we have shared some very tense and uncomfortable times. Carol has always been someone I’ve thought of as kind, wise, the epitome of professionalism, and a dedicated and active Guild member. I’ve worked with many of the editors and sound editors that have trained under her over the years, and I know that she has had a tremendous impact on the lives of all of those fortunate enough to have worked with her. Congratulations, Carol! This is so well deserved.

Tom Fleischman, CAS
Re-Recording Mixer, Places in the Heart (1984), Brighton Beach Memoirs (1986), Swimming to Cambodia (1987), Beloved(1998), Twilight (1998), The Truth About Charlie (2002), The Manchurian Candidate (2004), Margot at the Wedding (2007)

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Carol was instrumental in my getting every break I could possibly have gotten in my career. When I moved to LA from New York and couldn’t even get an interview,

Mia Goldman.

she was the only person who would take my call. Years later, she recommended me for my first feature as an editor, Choose Me. Working with Carol, first as an apprentice, then as her assistant, was the best training any editor could ever have, because she has the ability to look at any challenging situation on a film––be it political or work-related––and know exactly how to deal with it with wisdom and professionalism.

Carol has so much passion for her work. Sometimes I thought, “Carol doesn’t need anyone to help her,” because she would be in the cutting room every morning at 6 a.m., already working. Even after she started cutting Academy Award-winning films, her behavior never changed. As she became more and more respected, she just became more and more generous. Carol is very unpretentious with an acute intellectual sensibility; a je ne sais quoi that is a very rare combination of modesty and a very strong will––without any kind of arrogance at all.

She also has always had a very classic approach to the relationship of the editor and director. She taught all her assistants to respect their directors, and to be flexible and sensitive to their needs. And in turn, any director that worked with her understood how crucial her taste and insights were in helping to shape the film and the performances. Her understanding of film history is encyclopedic; when she first met with Larry Kasdan to discuss Body Heat, he said that Carol was the only one who used the words “Film Noir” when talking about the script.

When Carol ran for President of the Guild, her explanation to me was simply, “I feel that I need to give back,” which was such a beautiful way of putting it. Carol believes very deeply in the integrity of the craft of editing and wanted to strengthen the Guild by helping the membership at large in any way possible to deal with a whole new range of issues. It was great to have an editor of her caliber devoting so much time to labor concerns. I think that in this economy, the Guild might not be in the strong position it occupies today had it not been for her guidance at that time. She and Guild Executive Director Ron Kutak drove that progressive train that is still moving forward today. And it is one of the many reasons she so richly deserves this award.

Mia Goldman, ACE
Apprentice Editor, French Postcards (1979); Assistant Editor, Roadie (1980), Body Heat (1981), The Big Chill (1983), Silverado(1985)

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Michael Grillo.

As a producer or a director, what do you look for in an editor? Talent. Intelligence. Strength. A trusted partner. A soulful, generous and giving collaborator. A great sense of humor. Someone that’s grounded, but can look outside the box. Someone that treats the audience with respect. Someone that makes you better than you have ever been. Someone you want, need, have to have by your side during good times and bad.

Actually, you want Carol Littleton.

We have worked on six films together with director Lawrence Kasdan. Her work speaks for itself. Not one to settle for mediocrity, she brings out the very best in others. A giving mentor, fabulous filmmaker and such a great friend. A truly unique and special person.
Congratulations, Carol. Until the next one.

Michael Grillo
Assistant Director, Body Heat (1981), The Big Chill (1983), Silverado (1985), The Accidental Tourist (1988); Producer/Assistant Director, Grand Canyon (1991); Executive Producer, Wyatt Earp (1994)

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Both on the screen and in the cutting room, Carol creates a world one wants to be a part of. She inspires the greatest loyalty in her directors, but also inspires this loyalty in the whole team. As we know, post-production can be grueling, with impossible deadlines, ridiculous hours and schedules that last anywhere from six months to a year or more.

Carol is a true leader, for whom no detail is too small, and no person unimportant. She creates an atmosphere that is highly efficient and inclusive, and that brings out the best in everyone: the sound team, the visual effects team, the composer, editorial, the mixers and all the support staff. Carol equals top-of-the-line quality. When one hears that she is doing a picture, one knows the film will be the best it can be—and that the working experience will be completely constructive and probably even fun.

Ilona Herzberg
Producer, The Truth About Charlie (2002); The Manchurian Candidate (2004)

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Tina Hirsch.

The great thing about going to a movie Carol has cut is that you know she was in complete control of the footage. Her style is assured and graceful. I’m positive I’m going to see the best of the finest material. And I know that I won’t need to fasten my seat belt.

Tina Hirsch, ACE
Colleague

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There are few genuine icons in our industry. Carol Littleton is one of them. I have had the honor and pleasure of collaborating with Carol

James Newton Howard.

on four movies––all with writer/director Lawrence Kasdan. As a composer, I can tell you the picture editor needs to be my best friend, and Carol is as good a compadre as it gets. Her intelligence and insight, joined with a keen and sophisticated sense of music, combine to make working with Carol always a pleasure and a learning experience for me. Congratulations, Carol, on this well-deserved honor.

James Newton Howard
Composer, Grand Canyon (1991), Wyatt Earp (1994), Mumford (1999) Dreamcatcher (2003)

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Carol and I met in 1973 when she was one of two editors and I was the runner at Post Time Editorial, a TV commercial editing house. Through a series of events, I became her assistant. I worked with her for five years, and then she decided to try feature film work. As an editorial team, we were lucky enough to get our first project, Karen Arthur’s The Mafu Cage. In short order, we started editing Willard Huyck’s French Postcards, famous as the film from which Debra Winger was cut. Later, we formed an editing company in Hollywood called Flatrents, and were business partners for 16 years.

I tell people that I learned from one of the best editors in the world. Carol is multi-disciplined and diplomatic, and has a wonderful depth of knowledge that all rubbed off on me. She really gets how the tone of a story can be manipulated by shifting character and performance during the editing process.

When I was Carol’s assistant on Alan Rudolph’s Roadie, I remember very clearly sitting behind her while she was totally engrossed in her work at the KEM. I saw that she had a master shot on the wing and a close-up on the center console, and I would hold both sets of trims so that depending on what shot she chose, I could solve either problem. Just as she started to say, “I need…,” I would give the trim to her and she was amazed how I knew which shot she wanted. In those quiet moments looking over this great artist’s shoulder, I learned how to focus on how editorial decisions are made.

A lot of people would leave the business after a few lean years, but Carol inspired me to stick with it through the highs and lows, no matter what happened. I feel very blessed to have her as one of my mentors.

Gib Jaffe, ACE
Assistant Editor and Sound Editor, The Mafu Cage (1978); Assistant Editor, French Postcards (1979), Roadie (1980)

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Lawrence Kasdan.

When I met Carol Littleton 30 years ago, I was looking for a woman to edit my first film, Body Heat. The sexual nature of the screenplay convinced me I should have a strong female perspective throughout the process. As a bluffing novice, I was making up ideas like that as I went along. I didn’t know any better.

I wildly underestimated the influence Carol would have on me from that day forward. In the course of doing eight films together, she has been my teacher, moral touchstone, slave driver, confidante and friend. She has pushed me along on an endless quest to find a better solution, a fresher approach, a re-evaluation of all the decisions made up to that moment.

She once said to me, “Everything about a movie is theory until the editing.” I was taken aback. The screenplay was theory, the trucks, the locations, the actors, the burritos? All theory? But I came to understand how correct she was. No other aspect of the production meant much until two pieces of footage were joined, creating something new and unanticipated. It worked, it didn’t work, it worked but it wasn’t necessary, it didn’t quite work but it felt right anyway.

I’ve been fortunate to work with other great editors, but it is Carol who shaped my ideas about cutting. Her influence and values have been spread across the film business through countless protégés, assistants and trainees. She is unstinting in her drive to help others progress their careers.

When choosing an editor, a director is choosing a partner and compadre to travel on a difficult journey––someone who will see every aspect of the director’s nature, strengths and weaknesses. Most of all, one is looking for an artist whose taste matches up in an invigorating way with one’s own. In all the important aspects of movies and life, Carol’s taste is impeccable. She is the perfect companion. I’ll never know any better.

Lawrence Kasdan
Writer/Director, Body Heat (1981), The Big Chill (1983), Silverado (1985), The Accidental Tourist (1988), Grand Canyon (1991), Wyatt Earp (1994), Mumford (1999), Dreamcatcher (2003)

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I was relatively new to directing when I worked with Carol on a comedy I directed in the late 1980s. Like a lot of young directors, I veered wildly between feelings of

Ken Kwapis.

complete confidence and total panic. When the lights dimmed for my first set of dailies, I could not have been more anxious. The room was full––this was a time when people actually came to dailies––and for the first couple of takes, there was dead silence.

Then, Carol laughed. I will never forget this moment. Her laugh––big-hearted, generous, honest––did several things at once. It completely put me at ease. It let me know that she embraced the film and its characters, and it sent a signal for others––there were more than a few cool customers in that room––to do the same. And, finally, it announced that here was someone who led with her heart, a fact that was confirmed day after day after day during our time together.

Ken Kwapis
Director, Vibes (1988)

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I was a recently arrived New Yorker, still trying to figure out LA, when a friend invited me to accompany him to dinner at Carol and John’s house in the East Hollywood hills. There were several memorable and important components to the evening; one being that Carol made chile rellenos that were not only spectacularly delicious, but the first taste of Mexican food I ever had. Second, and also quintessentially Southern Californian, was the view of a horrendous wildfire in Malibu that we could see clearly from their house; huge flames leaping visibly many miles away on this windy night; quite unforgettable.

The great pleasure of the evening, though, was meeting Carol. I liked her instantly; she had truth and curiosity in her eyes, was full of good and friendly cheer, and, exotically for me, she was from Oklahoma. Talking with her, it was immediately clear what great joy and seriousness she had toward her work. I have been inspired by the range and quality of the films she has done––many of my great favorites––and I acknowledge and admire how the grace and integrity she brings to everything is critical to the success of those films. She is a unique gift to filmmaking. Congratulations, Carol, and thank you.

Lynzee Klingman, ACE
Colleague

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Jennifer Jason Leigh.

Carol can always hear the music of a scene––its language, visual tone and rhythm. She knows the best takes for performance and understands your intentions as a director. She’s incredibly intelligent and intuitive. There are scenes in The Anniversary Party that Alan Cumming and I never touched from Carol’s first assembly. She knows what is funny in a scene and why, and she’s tireless even when things get tiring. And always, she is generous. Helping young editors and sharing screen credit is something that is very important to Carol. I’ve learned so much from her about filmmaking.

Jennifer Jason Leigh
Co-Writer/Co-Director, The Anniversary Party (2001)

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My first meeting with Carol embodied four of the five virtues of the Fellowship and Service Award: professionalism, collaboration,

Marty Levenstein.

mentorship and generosity of spirit. It was 1985, and I was assisting editor Jill Savitt on a feature in New York. Jill had been Carol’s assistant on a number of films and Carol came by the cutting room to watch our film, answer questions and share her thoughts. She was respectful, unassuming, open-hearted, candid and very helpful with her comments.

A year later, Carol asked me to assist her on Jonathan Demme’s film of Spalding Gray’s Swimming to Cambodia. Two stage performances were filmed with three cameras each, giving us dailies from six cameras and two separate sound tracks. We wanted to be able to edit as if we had one performance with six cameras. Carol let me figure out what we needed to do in the cutting room to work this out and sat in on meetings that I conducted with production staff prior to the shoot. She asked questions like everyone else, but always allowed me to set procedures and run that part of the show. Over the years, she has never wavered in that regard. She respects each individual on the staff, and allows them to do their jobs in the best way they can. She is quick to point out things she would like to change, but leads by example. She puts her best into her job and expects others to do the same.

I’ve assisted or co-edited with Carol on four films and have always enjoyed that first coffee in the morning when we would discuss current events, movies, plays and books, and then slowly turn the conversation to the work at hand: the politics of the film, what we needed to accomplish that day and what everyone on our staff was doing to help us reach our goal. Carol is acutely aware that the editing process is becoming more and more depersonalized and her door is always open for anyone on the crew to come in and chat. She is interested in her crew members’ lives and careers and is quick to offer advice and a knowing ear. She has a rule about everyone sitting down to lunch together whenever possible. On one recent movie, we had a table set up in the hall for this purpose. Even the director would eat with us when he was free.

There is life outside the cutting room and Carol believes that putting work aside and out of mind is a healthy necessity. The best antidote to a pressured mind is a long walk and a wonderful dinner. I have fond memories of walks in Griffith Park and elsewhere, and sharing food together while working out intricacies of the job or just being friends.

Marty Levenstein
Assistant Editor, Swimming to Cambodia (1988), Margot at the Wedding (2007); Additional Editor, The Manchurian Candidate(2004); Co-Editor, In the Land of Women (2007)

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White Palace was my first American film, and I felt that I needed to have an editor who was very strong performance-wise, and who could work with humor and drama. When I was talking about editors with my producer, Mark Rosenberg, he asked me who I wanted, and I said I wanted Carol Littleton. I knew her work with Larry Kasdan, and once I met her, I felt a lot of empathy with her and it felt very comfortable.

We had a very open and collaborative relationship. Right at the beginning, she had a couple of comments on the script where she felt transitions were missing, so she was already visualizing problems that might arise in the editing room. When we started watching dailies, I learned something that I had never learned when making movies in Mexico: the importance of the editor’s presence during dailies.

In the first couple of days of production, she expressed concern with the pacing of one of our actors’ performances, saying that there were many pauses that were going to force her into cutting back and forth too much. Well, she was right, and I was able to use her feedback and correct the problem before we got too deep into shooting. It was an interesting eye-opener for me, and it was a pleasure to work with an editor who was so rigorous and meticulous. I hope we get to work together again, Carol. I’ve tried!

Luis Mandoki
Director, White Palace (1990)

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Craig McKay.

I am pleased that Carol Littleton is being honored for her service to our Guild and the greater film community. We are friends and have known each other for many years, but in all that time, we’ve only worked together once, on The Manchurian Candidate. On that job, I found Carol to be a brilliant, dedicated, hard-working, generous, sincere, funny, honest, charming and down-to-earth person. Of course, I knew that already, but what I didn’t know was how great a dinner date she was—and there were lots of late dinners!

Okay, so now let’s talk editing! The first thing I experienced was Carol’s legendary talent. It was amazing—her grasp of story, character and performance, all whipped together with a vast knowledge of music that always resulted in an exceptional scene that played on every level. She’s got the stuff! We were in sync and I had the joy of working with a person who was truly molto simpatico. But what I also witnessed first-hand was Carol’s ability to give. She freely gave her time and energy to anyone who needed it,especially aspiring young editors. I saw that Carol clearly loved her work and that her work loved her back.

Thank you, Carol! We are indeed privileged to honor your service to the Guild and to all of us. And thank you Gib, for introducing me to Carol.

Craig McKay, ACE
Co-Editor, The Manchurian Candidate (2004)

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Most film editors are really good people. They have to be. Carol is a cut above because she genuinely and truly cares about everything and everybody. No matter what was happening on a film, she just did a great job and let the pieces fall where they may. If I were a director or producer, Carol is the first person I would call because she is all about what the picture needs, not what she needs. I am so glad this is happening for her, and I know she appreciates the honor.

Donald O. Mitchell
Re-Recording Mixer, The Accidental Tourist (1988)

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In 1997, when I got a call to interview with Carol for an apprentice position on Robert Benton’s Twilight, I was so excited. I was aware of her amazing credits and leadership in Local 776. She was already a legend then! Listening to Carol recount her experiences when I was first starting out was such an education in itself; she is a master storyteller and truly enjoys passing on her vast knowledge of filmmaking.

I was lucky to have been a part of the crew on her next few New York movies and continued to marvel at her artistry, patience, hard work and love for all aspects of editorial––including timing lights and wedges! I have so many fun memories of those Jonathan Demme pictures: Five of us commuting up to Nyack together on Beloved…our band of seven, “The Co-Workers” on The Truth About Charlie…the “Manchurian 9” who still make the effort to reunite whenever we can wrangle it…

The level of dedication Carol brings to her work in the cutting room, as well as for the Guild, has inspired so many of us. It is why she is so deserving of this award. Congratulations, Carol!

Beth Moran
Apprentice Editor, Twilight (1998), Beloved (1998); Assistant Editor, The Truth About Charlie (2002), The Manchurian Candidate(2004)

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I was a very young sound effects mixer when I met Carol on Silverado, and she was very adroit at letting me find my own way to figuring out how the sound should be,

Kevin O’Connell.

rather than telling me how it should be. Carol taught me that sound wasn’t about having the loudest gunshots or horses, but about how to use sound to help tell the story. She also has the patience of a saint. A lot of people would have gotten very aggressive with a 23-year-old guy sitting at the mixing console, but Carol knew that and always gave me the time to learn what I needed to do.

I’ll always remember the time she and her husband John invited the entire crew to their place in the high desert, and driving through 25 miles of dirt road to get there. They were such great hosts, and we all camped out like Daniel Boone in the mountains. People just don’t do that nowadays.

I’ve mixed 166 pictures, and Carol is in my all-time top five of favorite picture editors.
Carol, thank you for being such an inspiration to me throughout my career.

Kevin O’Connell
Re-Recording Mixer, The Big Chill (1983), Silverado (1985), The Accidental Tourist (1988), Grand Canyon (1991), Wyatt Earp(1994), Mumford (1999), Dreamcatcher (2003)

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Suzana Peric.

The year was 1998. The film was Beloved, directed by Jonathan Demme. When I was first faced on this film with the prospect of working alongside Carol Littleton, the flutter of nervous anticipation was unbearable. I knew her work very well; I could even guess her hand in a film without seeing her name. That seemingly invisible signature permeates all of the films she has touched. How does one stand up to such excellence?

The day of our meeting arrived. It was to take place in Carol’s editing room. The butterflies in my stomach were restless. And then…it was the smile that did it. Or maybe that piercing look, straight into my eyes. Not stern, rather playful, ready to test my sense of humor. All that nervous anticipation evaporated, replaced by a tremendous joy to be in her company.

Carol, I realized by the end of the film, is a master team player and a master storyteller as she navigates the film into the essence of the story being told. She gives you her confidence, she expects your devotion to the film, she demands your point of view. Working alongside her, as I have done in the years to follow, has made me rediscover something about editing that I had almost forgotten: grace and dignity. It is my honor to celebrate this exceptional person, this exceptional artist: Carol Littleton.

Suzana Peric
Music Editor, Beloved (1998), The Manchurian Candidate (2004)

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Carol is an editor who, unlike some, has a deep feeling for music and how best to use it in film. She was very supportive, intuitive and a great person to work with on

Rachel Portman.

both Jeremiah Chechik’s Benny & Joon and Jonathan Demme’s Beloved. Sincere congratulations!

Rachel Portman
Composer, Benny & Joon (1993), Beloved (1998)

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Paul Rabjohns.

I first met Carol when I was hired as music editor on The Anniversary Partyin 2001. The warm family atmosphere that I walked into in that cutting room was in stark contrast to the tension and pressure of some of the films I had been involved in previously. It was a special time with a wonderful group of people. How many films are there where you all meet for breakfast, go for a hike and then start work?

Having recently had the good fortune to work with Carol again, I realize that this sense of family, a feeling of being part of something special, was no accident but something that Carol naturally engenders in her projects and the people around her. I have been mentored by Carol, not in a formal way, but by a sort of intellectual osmosis.

It has been inspiring to work for someone who approaches the art of filmmaking with such clarity of vision, sensitivity and talent. I laugh when I think of how often I would show Carol music cues and she would say, “Well, why don’t you try this…” and then having a forehead-slapping moment and thinking, “Of course! That’s how it needs to play!”

Carol has a natural spark that I have seen effortlessly ignite enthusiasm and a passion in myself and the team to do the best possible job. Each time I have worked with her, I have approached my next project with a real shot in the arm and tried to keep that spark alive.

We recently celebrated Carol’s birthday on a mixing stage in Hollywood. When she finally forgave us for springing it on her, it was great to hear her reminisces about some of the amazing films and experiences with which she had been involved––all told with modesty, a sense of wonder and that distinctive infectious laugh. Countless times, having finished a meeting with Carol or a conversation about life in general, I hear that little voice in my head say, “Paul, you know, you really should try to be a little bit more like Carol.”

Paul Rabjohns, MPSE
Music Editor, The Anniversary Party (2001), The Rum Diary (2010)

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When Carol came on board for The Rum Diary, my first film in 17 years, she hadn’t seen a frame of footage. We sat there, she and I, and looked at 162 hours of film

Bruce Robinson.

over the next two weeks, while she made notes. At the end of it she said, “Yes, yes, let’s do it!” And that was how we got going. I was immediately enchanted by her; she is an amazingly calm and cultured woman.

I am in awe of Carol in many ways. Her special love and knowledge of music is, I think, what informs her ability to make lateral choices like a musician in an orchestra or ensemble—knowing precisely when to come in to the piece. Editing, at its best, is a weird kind of visual music, and Carol has that instinctive smell and feel for the rhythm of a scene. Her feel for performance is also spot-on. I am totally into dialogue; the nuances of a line can make the difference between getting a laugh and not getting a laugh, and she has a fabulous ear. A lot of people don’t know the difference between saying “My father was a tailor,” or “My father was a tailor,” for example, but Carol can really hear dialogue and completely understands comedy.

Ultimately, Carol is a master of léger de main; a wizard of her craft with an extraordinary arsenal of abilities. On one scene, for example, we needed to cut back to an actor within a scene, but in one shot, he had his hat on, and in another, he had his hat off. I went away, came back in half an hour, and miraculously, the guy no longer had a hat on. For her, there is no such thing as an intractable problem.

But the thing I love the most about her is that because I am English, I am addicted to curry, and it’s very unusual to find an American who can eat a “chicken brimstone” for lunch! Congratulations, Carol, on this wonderful honor.

Bruce Robinson
Writer/Director, The Rum Diary (2010)

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One thing that we have all known––and movie-going audiences have known––for years: Carol is a prodigiously talented editor. All of her films evince a unique editorial sensibility, a touch that is hers. As varied as they are in subject and scope, there’s a very particular attention to environment in all her films, a clarity of storytelling, and an abundance of nuanced performances. And also, there’s wit. In each of her films, there’s Carol.

Simply put, no one has eyes like she has. No one has ears like she has. No one understands and illuminates the ebb and flow of a story the way Carol does. Like the very best editors, and the best storytellers, Carol’s work erases the narrative seams. She constructs stories in such a way that we can’t imagine things unfolding in any other way––and we don’t want to.

The directors with whom she collaborates appreciate her intelligence, her instincts and the strength with which she executes their shared vision for the film. They know that she’s brilliant at parsing details––determining which small elements are extraneous, and which comprise the fabric of the movie. Actors love her for the facets she finds in their performances. Producers love her because we know how incredibly capable and rigorous she is about the work.

Carol does the thing that we all strive to do when we set out to make a movie: She brings the story and all its elements into stunning focus. Congratulations, Carol, and thank you for sharing your gifts with all of us.

Scott Rudin
Producer, Twilight (1998), The Manchurian Candidate (2004), Margot at the Wedding (2007), The Other Boleyn Girl (2008)

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When Carol came to New York to edit Places in the Heart, she hired me as her assistant, beginning our 25 years as friends and colleagues. I was fortunate enough to assist her again when Brighton Beach Memoirs brought her back to New York. Later, when she called and asked me to co-edit a film with her, to say I was thrilled is an understatement. Having the opportunity to work alongside my longtime mentor was a dream come true.

I have gained much from observing Carol’s expertise and skill. There is a musicality to her editing. She is a truly gifted storyteller. Watching Carol solve problems, make choices, and draw on her diverse artistic interests was an invaluable lesson. She not only understands the art of editing but the politics of it as well. Quite simply, she is a role model. Editing is a passion for her, and it shows.

It is easy to speak of Carol in superlatives, from her generosity of spirit and her tireless work for our Guild and its members, to her loyal and enduring relationships with her directors and collaborators. Although Carol’s career has been laced with moments of film greatness––the reveal of E.T., the phenomenal cast and music of The Big Chill, and my personal favorite, William Hurt breaking down the door to get to Kathleen Turner in Body Heat––to me, she is first and foremost a loyal and dear friend.

As Carol often says, “Less is more,” so I will edit myself and just say that after a lot of thought and reflection, I am pretty sure that when I die I would like to come back as one of her cats. Congratulations on your award, Carol!

Jill Savitt, ACE
Assistant Editor, Places in the Heart (1984), Brighton Beach Memoirs (1986); Co-Editor, China Moon (1994)

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Carol, we’ve been friends for 25 years. You were the first person I met in the film industry and to this day you remain the most outstanding person I know. As I see it, you and I are musicians who share a love of film and so we continue chiseling away at our craft these many years. Your breadth of knowledge is vast. With each film you complete, you add to an accomplished body of work

Thank you for being so generous with me in my beginnings; the guidance you offered kick-started my career. Your time as President and then Vice President of the Editors Guild was a most constructive and helpful period. You opened up a new world of “digital” to many of us. Your guidance afforded us the opportunity to learn and grow into all the new technologies.

I guess my one wish is that we will one day actually work on a picture together. Meanwhile, I’ll continue to appreciate you and look forward to our never-often-enough catch-up visits. You are all that is right and great about this business. You are the best and this honor by the Guild is so richly deserved.

Ellen Segal, MPSE
Music Editor, Colleague

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When I first met Carol, I was an apprentice editor she was being forced to hire by my producer/uncle, Bill Finnegan. I had no idea that an editor wouldn’t want the producer’s niece in the cutting room. One of the favorite stories Carol likes to tell is how she planned to fire me after a week, then how we ended up working together for over 12 years.

I was always a fan; I saw The Big Chill seven times and can remember exactly where I was when I saw Body Heat. But as I worked with Carol, I became a bigger fan––seeing her cut and navigate political situations. She never gives up on a film, but always pushes it to its ultimate best, remaining interested in every detail until the last print comes out of the lab. This is something she instilled in me to expect of my work.

What she has taught me is that editing isn’t technical; it is sensation, observation and something that is hard to talk about but easy to feel. Editors don’t just cut physical film, they manage it, guard it, protect it and finally let it find itself. This is the same way she operates as a friend—never judging but always guiding, seeing you as you will be and letting you find it for yourself.

As someone who considers herself a main beneficiary of Carol’s generosity on all fronts, I am very excited that she is receiving this award; she deserves it.

Suzanne Spangler
Apprentice Editor, White Palace (1990); Assistant Editor, Benny & Joon (1993), Wyatt Earp (1994), Diabolique (1996), Twilight(1998), Beloved (1998); Co-Editor, The Anniversary Party (2001), The Truth About Charlie (2002)

•

Steven Spielberg, left, Kathleen Kennedy.

Carol embodies the spirit that E.T. inspired when he says at the end of the film, “Be good.” She has been very, very good in everything she has done, from the edit bay to her personal dedication to the artistry and the craft of editing.

Steven Spielberg
Producer/Director, E.T.: The Extra-Terrestrial (1982)
Kathleen Kennedy
Producer, E.T.: The Extra-Terrestrial (1982)

•

When they’re young, all editors try to imagine what kind of editor to be once they become established, and what kind of “career” to go for. Do we pursue blockbuster movies? Do we choose our jobs based on the filmmakers involved? Or do we go for smaller, more intimate projects. I met Carol when I was relatively young and just starting out, and she seemed to have been successful in choosing to do it all! She had edited E.T., but when I met her she was working on Swimming to Cambodia. Movies big and small, documentaries and fiction.

Carol is at ease with both intellectual and technical challenges, and while being extremely serious, her smile is the thing that I remember most, and the loyalty and affection of her crews over the years is quite legendary. It has been a pleasure to follow her body of work, and to watch someone who is not just dedicated to her craft, but dedicated to making everyone around her feel appreciated in their own contribution.

Camilla Toniolo
Assistant Editor, Swimming to Cambodia (1988)

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I cannot think of my career without thinking of Carol Littleton. I met Carol on Places in the Heart. It was my second job as a film apprentice. Carol taught me how to tell a story with film. She introduced me to the rhythms of dialogue, emphasized the importance of sound, shared her love of music and showed me how integral all were to the process of storytelling. Her passion and dedication inspired me to become the best that I could be in the job, whether as an apprentice, an assistant or an editor.

After Places in the Heart, Carol and I never worked together again, but I have gone to see every film that she has cut and it keeps me close to her. Through the years, I have called Carol for advice and help. She has given me her time and guidance. And as the years passed, she has treated me as a colleague…an equal. I of course, will always see her as a mentor.

Barbara Tulliver. ACE
Apprentice Editor, Places in the Heart (1984)

•

Shortly after relocating from Los Angeles to New York, I was fortunate enough to be hired as the sound supervisor on Jonathan Demme’s remake of The Manchurian

Paul Urmson.

Candidate and to work with Carol Littleton and Craig McKay. At one point, after filming had wrapped and early discussions of sound had started, I was able to sit and closely watch Carol and Jonathan work for an extended amount of time, from raw footage through the first cut. To watch these master filmmakers work and see their process was, for me as a sound editor, a rare opportunity.

Since then, I have worked with Carol on several films, both narrative and documentary, and we have become friends and co-conspirators. I am constantly amazed at her aesthetic sense regarding every aspect of movie storytelling, be it the visual, performance, rhythm, pacing, music or sound design of a film. That she takes a keen interest in things outside of work, and in the lives of her crew and the people around her, and brings that world of experience to her work, I find truly inspiring.

She is one of those people who just loves the craft of filmmaking and storytelling and enjoys being involved in every aspect of it. I always learn from watching her work. Being in the cutting room with Carol is also an amazing amount of fun. Her wicked sense of humor and wit make some of the more insane aspects of film post-production hugely enjoyable. She is that calm in the eye of the storm.

Working with Carol has been a privilege, an honor and among the most rewarding experiences of my career. I can only hope we collaborate on many more.

Paul Urmson
Supervising Sound Editor, The Manchurian Candidate (2004); Sound Designer/Re-Recording Mixer, Margot at the Wedding(2007)

•

Jim Weidman.

Every time I get together with people I’ve worked with in the past, we reminisce about old war stories and commiserate about the impossible tasks we’ve been asked to accomplish. We recall screaming fits from directors, or battles with editors, or late turnovers that are supposed to miraculously appear on the dubbing stage the next morning. I don’t have any of these stories with Carol.

Anytime I’ve worked with her, she has made sure everything runs so smoothly that I have no memories of anything ever going wrong. There was one time when I overheard her on the phone with a title house and she said, “That won’t do…that just won’t do at all.” She hung up the phone and asked me if she had been too harsh. That about says it all.

Congratulations, Carol. See you at Natalee Thai.

Jim Weidman
Music Editor, Grand Canyon (1991), Wyatt Earp (1994); Supervising Music Editor, Mumford (1999), Dreamcatcher (2003)

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I’ve known Carol going on 20 years or so. I joined her crew on location in Santa Fe as an assistant editor on Wyatt Earp when Raul Davalos went on paternity leave. She was already “Carol Littleton.” Her then-assistant, my good friend Suzanne Spangler, said that Carol was great, and the experience produced some of my most treasured memories with friends that I happened to work with.

I can go on about how great an editor Carol is, or that she’s devoted to the craft and gives her all to each and every project—that’s all true; but what’s really striking about Carol is her wonderful spirit. Because Carol grew up on a farm in Oklahoma, I gather Okies to be towers of strength––welcoming, honestly curious, incredibly kind and lovers of chocolate.

She has tremendous stamina, be it for the work before her or walking the Camino de Santiago de Compostela pilgrimage. She opened her cutting room up to a Cutco knife salesman and after we all sat around and heard his funny pitch, she bought a set. She bakes some awfully tasty Christmas cookies that my kids and I look forward to decorating every year. Carol puts as much careful thought to the worm farm that feeds her magnificent garden as to a scene that goes through many incarnations.
From the get-go, you have a sense that everything and everyone matters to Carol. I have the privilege of being part of her past and present crews and can say that Carol Littleton is actually pretty great, and deserving of this award and all it signifies

Ofe Yi
Assistant Editor, Wyatt Earp (1994), Dreamcatcher (2003), In the Land of Women (2007)

January 1, 2010 0 comments

Features

Making the Right Connections: Dana Glauberman Flies Solo as an Editor

by Laura Almo November 1, 2009

written by Laura Almo 9 minutes read

by Laura Almo • photos by Deverill Weekes

Since she discovered her passion for post-production while studying film at the University of California Santa Barbara, there was nothing up in the air about the career choice of Dana Glauberman, A.C.E. Originally interested in photography, she took a production class that had her doing everything from writing to directing and producing. It was that class––and cutting her Super- 8 short film––that opened her eyes to the joys and wonders of editing.

After graduating with a degree in Film Studies, Glauberman landed a job as a production assistant in the post-production department of Hearst Entertainment in LA. She worked her way up to apprentice, then assistant, and then served as additional editor on several features before flying solo as a picture editor.

Glauberman’s latest film is Up in the Air. Based on the novel by Walter Kirn, it stars George Clooney as a corporate downsizing expert whose life as a road warrior is threatened. Due for release through Paramount Pictures December 4, it marks the editor’s third collaboration with director Jason Reitman, after Thank You for Smoking (2005) and Juno (2007)––both of which earned her an ACE Eddie Award nomination. She was also recently chosen Editor of the Year by the Hollywood Film Festival.

Her previous film is the recent Jennifer Aniston vehicle Love Happens, and her editing credits also include work on House of Sand and Fog, Factory Girl and an episode of Northern Exposure. As an assistant editor, she worked both in tele- vision (Dr. Quinn, Medicine Woman, The Secrets of Lake Success) and features (The Birdcage, Six Days Seven Nights, Pirates of the Caribbean: The Curse of the Black Pearl).

George Clooney in a scene from Up in the Air.
Photo by Dale Robinette. © 2009 DW Studios LLC and Cold Spring Pictures

Editors Guild Magazine recently caught up with Glauberman to discuss her work on Up in the Air, her collaboration with Reitman and her love of editing.

Editors Guild Magazine: The writing in Up in the Air is smart, sophisticated and insightful. How did the film evolve in the editing from the final draft of the script to the final version of the film?

Dana Glauberman: This is actually one of the many things that I love about working with Jason Reitman. He writes fantastic scripts, ones that are, as you put it, smart, sophisticate and insightful, amongst many other things. Besides juxtaposing a few scenes, losing or shortening other scenes, or creating montages that were not in the original script––which are all part of the editing process––the film pretty much stayed true to what was on paper.

EGM: The film incorporates on-camera interviews with real people who had lost their jobs. How did this aspect of the story develop?

DG: Our main city of production was St. Louis. While there, the production put ads in the local papers, saying that they were shooting a film about job loss and were looking for people to talk about their experiences. There were hundreds of people who applied, and we ended up with 60-some on-camera interviews. These people were asked to talk about what happened, how they were let go, what they said, and what they wished they had said. This entire process was filmed, and we whittled the 60 interviews down to pieces, which often lead us into our scripted firings––a brilliant idea from Jason to add to our story.

EGM: The pacing is superb. How did you establish the pace and tone of the film?

DG: When I first cut a scene, I approach it using the natural pacing of the actors in dailies. Once the scene is assembled, I then go back in and make my trims. There are many very fast-paced scenes in Up in the Air, in which the characters are practically on top of each other’s lines. This was established early on, particularly while Ryan [George Clooney] packs and goes through security, as well as in the relationships between Ryan and both of his female counterparts. We continue this style throughout the film; however, when we get to some of the firings, where the scene holds much more dramatic content, we often slow down to allow the emotion to set in, while still utilizing quick cuts of real people getting fired to lead us into the scenes.

EGM: There are some very emotional and revelatory scenes. Describe some of those and what you did in the editing to heighten the emotional tension.

DG: There are definitely some moments in the film that are unexpected and emotional, where you can hear a pin drop in the theatre, followed by the sound of a cumulative gasp when something is revealed. Without giving anything away, holding on a face or cutting back and forth between characters helps to height- en the tension within these scenes. Thankfully, all of our actors are so good, and deliver in every take, that I was able to choose between several takes in order to create the emotion that we feel while watching the film.

Dana Glauberman.

EGM: This film has a very realistic feel to it. What are some of the different techniques used to further the story and give it this feel?

DG: There are very few freeze frames and dissolves in the film, but we do mix both film and HD material. There is one section of the film––the wedding montage–– that was shot entirely in HD. Jason want- ed the feel of a real wedding, so he hired a wedding coordinator, a priest, a band, a video crew, etc.––and threw a wedding! This gives the audience the feeling of being there, celebrating with everyone. It certainly is true to the story, helps height- en the experience, helps to push relation- ships to the next level and definitely puts a smile on your face.

EGM: What were some of the challenges in editing Up in the Air?

DG: One of the biggest challenges was our schedule. We started production toward the end of February and had a 50- day shoot, which had us wrapping principal photography on May 14. We knew we had an unusually tight schedule for our desired premiere date of September 12 at the Toronto International Film Festival––which then got shortened when we decided to do a sneak screening at the Telluride festival a week earlier. We shot entirely on location in five cities around the country, so Jason flew home to Los Angeles almost every weekend to catch up on working with me because our schedule was so short. We actually had a similar schedule on Juno, although that was shot in 30 days, which ultimate- ly gave us an additional month of post- production.

I was fortunate enough to have an incredible crew on this film: assistant editors Maria Gonzales and Omar Hassan-Reep, and production assistant Michael Underdown––all of whom I appreciate a great deal, as they went way above and beyond the call of duty.

EGM: You’ve worked with Jason Reitman on Thank You for Smoking and Juno. Describe your working process and collaboration with him.

DG: Jason generally has a very strong sense of how he wants his movies to play, whether comedic or dramatic, even before going into production. Being that this is our third movie together, we had developed a very strong working relationship and a keen sense of what our styles are like. This makes for the perfect director- editor bond. Honestly, my favorite time of making the movie is once Jason gets to the cutting room after production wraps.

But Up in the Air was quite the different process from our prior two movies. On this movie, due to our extremely tight schedule, Jason was home working with me almost every Saturday of production. On the other two, although I sent him cut scenes via DVD or FTP, he often would wait until arriving in the edit suite before giving me detailed notes. Our process of working together face-to-face is pretty simple and involves a lot of trust. In fact, you cannot spend ten-plus hours a day, five-plus days a week in a room with someone whom you don’t respect, trust or enjoy being with. My room becomes his office, and we work away until we are done.

“I consider film editing as one huge jigsaw puzzle.”

EGM: I’ve heard that you’re a real jig- saw puzzle aficionado. How does this help with the editing process?

DG: When I was a child, I loved doing jig- saw puzzles. I used to empty out the box of pieces on our dining room table and get lost in trying to fit them all together. Now that I am an adult and have a career, I consider film editing as one huge jigsaw puzzle. I get lost in trying to cut a movie together, much like when I was a kid. The only difference in my mind is that there is no right or wrong way of piecing a movie puzzle together.

EGM: Talk about your transition from assistant editor to editor.

DG: I have worked under some wonderfully talented editors, including Arthur Schmidt, Sheldon Kahn and Wendy Greene-Bricmont––all of whom taught me a great deal. Over time, they were all gracious enough to give me scenes to cut, and then would critique my work.

Eventually, I started receiving the trust and respect in order to continue cutting and was given “additional editor” credit on a few films. Many people started recommending me to edit very low-budget films in order to help build up my resume. My first big editing gig was with Jason on Thank You for Smoking, which helped open the door to many other opportunities.

November 1, 2009 0 comments

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