Television

by Kevin Lewis

The hit Fox television show 24 bursts with paranoia, backstabbing, murder and mayhem––all of which pleases the cast and crew as well as the audience. But the mayhem is all in front of the camera. Behind the scenes, well, it’s a peaceable kingdom, as evidenced by little turnover in the cutting room since the show’s premiere three years ago. 24 is a sterling example of collaboration in action.

About to enter its fourth season in January, the 2004 Golden Globe Award winner for Best Dramatic Series is in many ways a model for editing, as its Emmy nominations and awards over the years attest. The innovative program sets each hour-long show in a real-time, one-hour format and the whole season depicts just one 24-hour period. The series recently won Emmys for both picture editing and sound mixing. The editors have another honor from the Academy of Television Arts and Sciences (ATAS): the Academy’s new Journeys Below the Line series of DVDs debuts after the first of the year with a film focusing on the editing teams of 24.

The Picture Editors 
There is no rivalry or even hierarchy between the picture editors on 24. “We each have our shows; we trade off shows,” Chris Willingham says, explaining that the episodes are shot back-to-back on a 15-day production schedule, with another day or two for shooting additional scenes. “I would come back first [from hiatus] and start on Episode One,” Willingham says. “Episodes One and Two are shot at the same time, and then Episodes Three and Four. So the first editor back is responsible for Episodes One and Four. Consequently, we get dailies for 30 straight days on two different episodes.” Scott Powell or David Latham would then tackle Episode 2.

Co-producer Paul Gadd explains how intimately the editors work with the writers and directors, including weaving full new scenes into the narrative. “A lot of times when our shows are written, they are too short, and obviously we have to deliver a certain time to the network,” Gadd says. “So we write new scenes and put them in the show.” However, there are constraints to the real-time formula. “You can’t just jump [characters] across town from one location to another,” Gadd explains. “There has to be realistic amounts of time [for them] to do things. However, we routinely do swap scenes around, just as you would in any other show; for example, a scene from Act 4 is moved to Act 2. One advantage we have––and we do it––is that we will move a scene from the end of one show to the beginning of another show because it’s all one story.”

Kiefer Sutherland in 24. ™&© Fox and its related entities. All rights reserved.

As Powell points out, “There are a lot of techniques that we can’t use, like time cuts and dissolves. We’ve got to follow characters where they are going and play it all out in real time; it can be an extra challenge.” He also notes the fact that the camera is at point-of-view eye level throughout the show, with few upshots and downshots.

Although executive producer, creator and writer Joel Surnow has the final word on the show, the editors claim he doesn‘t force his script on them and will change it when they tell him that it’s interfering with the story’s flow. “Film is organic, and if you force it to be something it’s not, you ruin it, ” comments Willingham.

“Surnow trusts us almost to a fault,” says Willingham. “I’ve worked on things where you sit with the producer and he wants to see almost every frame of footage shot, not trusting that you have indeed used the absolute best [shot]. This show could be a nightmare for editorial if Joel didn’t operate the way he does.” Powell adds, “A series this busy should keep us here long hours and weekends, but I think maybe I worked two Saturdays in the three years.” Willingham agrees: “I have never worked one hour of overtime during the week. I know people on much simpler shows who are bleeding from the eyeballs on a regular basis.”

Although 24 is classified for the Emmys as a single camera show, the series shoots with two cameras now, like many other shows do, according to Gadd. “We shot 15,000 feet of film yesterday––the most that we have ever shot, I think,” says Gadd. “[Main director and co-executive producer] Jon Cassar always shoots a lot…and prints it all. Which leaves our editors with lots of footage to go through. Cassar spends a couple of days working with the editors before Surnow looks at the material.”

“The amount of footage that gets delivered to [the editors] is staggering,” agrees Cassar himself. “We rarely do the same thing with the camera on each take, so the choices they have are more than usual; therefore they need to dig through the footage to find the gems of movement and performance. They do this with such skill, I still get surprised at the combination of shots they put together to constantly keep the tension at a fever pitch––and I’ve directed 26 episodes!”

“There are very few pick-ups,” Willingham says. “They will shoot everything from the beginning to the end [of a scene] and every single take.” Nothing is wasted, either. Once, David Latham used a little piece from discarded footage as a bridge piece to avoid a jump cut in the middle of a scene.

Editors Guild Executive Director Ron Kutak is interviewed on the Journeys DVD. Photo by Lynne Gross

“The camerawork [on 24] is so much superior to other places I have worked, and we have such a choice of good footage,” Latham says. “Historically, people would always say that you stay tight during a tense sequence, because if you go wide in the middle of it, you take [the viewer] out of it. Here, we almost go the opposite route. We like jumping back real wide for just a little quick pop in the middle of a tense scene, because it’s usually a shot that’s semi-obscured behind something, and it gives the audience an unsettling feeling, as though they are in the room watching it. It’s like a Peeping Tom POV, which adds to the tension. You don’t see anyone else really doing that kind of thing.”

Like Powell and Willingham, Latham enjoys collaborating with the show’s creators. “Just the other day, we had to fix a sequence where Jack [series star Kiefer Sutherland] was getting beat up badly, and the producer said, ‘Well, he looks like a wimp,’” Latham said. Pistol-whipping Jack was the solution for the editor. “I said, ‘If we get a shot of a gun being pulled there and another quick little pop on a double’s neck, we can make it look like he was knocked out with a gun and then getting beat up,’ Latham continues. “And I swear, within two hours, Cassar was in here, looked at it, and said, ‘Great! I can do it with a couple of doubles against a wall at the end of the shooting.’” A shot amounting to only a second of screen time inserted into the scene changed everything. “Cassar is very open that way,” Latham adds. “He’ll come in and say, ‘Hey, what are you are looking for in this scene [is what] I’m going to do––particularly if it’s an opening sequence for one of our shows.’”

Perhaps because of this support from the top, Willingham, Powell and Latham have had friendly relations with the succession of other directors on 24. Willingham explains, “The [single episode directors] get four days [the DGA contract conditions] after the editor gets [them] his first cut––we like to call it first cut, not rough cut because they are anything but rough. We give them a DVD, which they can look at at home, and then come in and sit with us. They all work differently. Some will just give us notes and go away, then come back and see what we’ve done, [while] some like to sit with us and watch us make every change.”

The show is shot on 35mm film and edited on a Meridian Avid. “We‘re on Unity, which means we’re all drawing on the same bank of drives,” says Powell. “Our timelines are quite cluttered, if you’ve ever seen an Avid timeline.” Eight tracks of audio are stacked on top of six tracks of video. The show is then digitalized once the dailies are transferred.

“There are a lot of techniques that we can’t use, like time cuts and dissolves. We’ve got to follow characters where they are going and play it all out in real time” – Scott Powell

Even though Latham, Willingham and Powell are picture editors, Latham points out that they are asked to do a temp dub of an entire show, which consists of sound effects, such as trains, birds, etc., as well as the music scores. They use scores by series composer Sean Callery from previous shows. “When we show it to [Surnow], or send it to the network, they expect it to be entirely scored, with sound effects, everything––all temp of course,” says Latham.

Editors must be storytellers as well. As Latham explains, “If a scene doesn’t work, you take it out. [Joel] doesn’t want to see a bad scene. All of this is pretty much expected of us. You’ve got to take out all of the bad stuff, even if it’s stuff he wrote. I like that; he trusts us a lot.”

All three editors work in a very collaborative and friendly atmosphere, according to Cassar. “They making every edit decision a team one,” he explains. “You rarely hear, ‘Here’s my version.’ Every show is completed as ‘our version’ of 24.

The Sound Mixers
When Mike Olman and Ken Kobett take over from the picture editors of 24, it is a seamless transition. “The temp dubs are done by the picture editors,” says Olman. “There is no time to do temp dubs in television, so it’s all done in picture editorial.”

Olman and Kobett are primarily re-recording mixers who mix sound for single-camera series. “When we’re mixing, the producers pretty much leave us alone to do what we do,” Olman says. “Nobody comes to the stage until we’re finished and ready for a playback. We know after four years how the show should sound and what they’re looking for. [Executive producer/writer Joel] Surnow comes to the stage, we play it back and he makes a final rendering from there of what he likes and what he wants to change. He always has his finger in the pie, as far as sound goes––from spotting right through the very end, and for music playbacks as well.”

If the shows are watched back-to-back, the sound actually changes throughout the day the same way it actually would in real life.

The very first season of 24, when the team was trying to establish the sound of the show, Kobett came up with the idea of the clock ticking at the beginning and end of each show. “That’s the sound of the show,” says, Kobett. “Its trademark, its signature. Everybody knows that ticking sound and expects it at the beginning and end of every act.”

Kobett and Olman once eliminated the ticking clock to maximize the emotion involved in a murder. “There was one episode, I think the first season’s last episode, where Jack’s [Kiefer Sutherland] wife is shot and killed,” Olman says. “We took out the clocks and Joel didn’t notice it. When we pointed it out to him, and played it back again, he really loved it. He’s very willing to play with sound and let us come up with new ideas that maybe weren’t considered when they were writing, shooting or spotting it.”

The producers’ flexibility adds what Olman calls “fresh ears and fresh eyes” to each show. The mixers are allowed to contribute their own ideas, rather than just make it sound exactly like the temp mix. “They let us take a whack at it and see what we can come up with,” says Olman. “It makes it easier for us to mix and it also pays off in the sound of the show. They end up with a better product that way.”

As recorders, Olman and Kobett work with the sound editors and picture editors for a spotting session. Kobett also works with Jeffrey Whitcher, a sound designer and editor. Working from his home studio in the country on an Apple computer with ProTools, Whitcher creates ambient sounds and is free to experiment. He feeds the tracks to Kobett by uploading them to an FTP site. According to Kobett, “Witcher cuts all the effects and backgrounds. He covers anything that comes up in spotting, and interjects his own thoughts and ideas about what is transpiring in a scene. We try his ideas equally as we try our own. Jeff is definitely a huge part of the sound of the show.”

“It takes us seven months to mix the season, But it’s really only 24 hours [in story time]. You have to reach back and think, ‘It’s an hour later'” – Mike Olman 

The mixers’ schedule is not a very long one. “We get two nine-hour days to mix the show,” says Olman. “It takes 12 hours to mix the show, and the rest of the second day is spent on playbacks and fixes. In 12 hours, we have to go through 45 minutes of non-stop action.”

The locations in 24 change frequently, which poses some challenges for the sound re-recorders in the studio. “The production dialogue that’s delivered to us is never the same because production is never on the same set––they’re always staging locations week after week,” Olman says. “We have to experiment with everything, because everything changes. They’re shooting wherever the show takes them, so it’s just a bagful of challenges to make the show sound as good as it sounds.”

24 has always been a maverick sound show. Stephen Hopkins, who was an original co-producer and director of the series but has since departed, had met with Olman and Kobett, and stated that he wanted a show in 5.1 surround sound, even if it couldn’t be broadcast in 5.1, because he envisioned a technology that would provide that later on in the series’ run and would also be used in the repeats and on the DVD releases.

“This is the first show for me that was ever prepared specifically for 5.1 with a dedicated boom channel, elements cut for surround play, a dedicated surround track and an overall feel that we are going for a much bigger sonic experience than just the little speakers on your TV,” Olman says. “If you have a surround decoder at home, you get the show as it’s intended. Of course, we always make sure that it’s backwards compatible and translates nicely to a stereo playback, but it is the first show out of the gate where the sound is as important as the picture; and it’s fantastic.”

The mixers are allowed to contribute their own ideas, rather than just make it sound exactly like the temp mix.

Kobett adds, “Hopkins wanted things that no one has ever wanted to happen sonically. He wanted sound to take over, to push dialogue away, to eat up music with an effect. He had a lot of specific ideas of how to play emotions through effects, backgrounds and silence.”

Olman agrees: “Stephen approached the show from a theatrical point of view. The sound of the show hasn’t really changed; the big challenge is maintaining the sound that was established four years ago in a constantly changing show. The sound is very much its own character.”

Which is not to say that the sound of 24 is invariable. Olman points out that if the shows are watched back-to-back, the sound actually changes throughout the day the same way it actually would in real life. “So, from hour to hour, we’re always asking ourselves, ‘What time is it right now?’ It’s five in the morning, should there be a lot of people, should there be a lot of machines, should there be this, that or the other?” he says. “We have to be very conscious of what time it is in the show––what time of day, what time of year––and we have to follow through with that. That’s the challenge.

“It takes us seven months to mix the season,” he concludes. “But it’s really only 24 hours [in story time]. You have to consciously reach back and think, ‘It’s an hour later; what did we do last week? Are we playing too many birds, too much traffic? How is the sound changing?’ That is the signature sound of the show.”

‘24’ Editors Acknowledged, Saluted on ‘Journeys Below the Line’ DVD
Just as there are no small parts, only small actors, all components in the production of a theatrical film or television show are dependent upon each other. A weak department can compromise a whole project. A new DVD, Journeys Below the Line, reveals how vital creative editing is to a film or television show. Though editing is considered to be a below-the-line department in the service of the director, smart directors always pay attention to what their editors suggest. In fact, double-Oscar winners for direction Robert Wise and David Lean always highlighted their days as editors. Filmmaker Karel Reisz wrote what was at one time the primer on the subject, The Technique of Film Editing.

The editors themselves, though not directors, are masters at understanding the narrative principles.

The Academy of Television Arts and Sciences (ATAS) is producing an ambitious series of DVDs which explore the traditional below-the-line departments of primetime television, but also highlight the interdependence of those both above and below that line. The first DVD in the Journeys Below the Line series, which will be released by First Light Video Publishing in January, focuses on the sound and picture editing essential to the acclaimed Fox television series 24, as well as the show’s script supervision.

Bruce Bilson, who conceived the series in his role as current chair of the Educational Programs and Services Committee of ATAS, says of the DVD, “We think of it as our version of Inside the Actors Studio.” The production team focused on 24 for its inaugural presentation because of the innovative editing, which has won Emmy Awards. (The next DVD will analyze the production set design of The West Wing.)

Along with Bilson, two past chairs of the ATAS committee as well as former governors of the academy, Michael Gallant and Lynne Gross, also contributed their talents to the production. While Bilson is executive producer and director of the initial DVD, Gallant, a veteran producer, is the series’ producer and Gross, a professor of radio, television and film, is the series’ associate producer.

Though the Journeys series was designed as a learning tool for students in film schools and courses, it also appeals to the working professional in the film and television industries. According to the project’s mission statement, “It does not show how to operate any particular equipment, but rather emphasizes the types of tasks the below-the-line people undertake and the interaction each has with other members of the cast and crew.” Bilson recalled that a grip approached him after an interview session for the DVD and said that he understood his own job more clearly after seeing the editing session.

Cassar realizes the Herculean task involved in looking at tens of thousands of feet of film released to the editors in the space of a few days.

On the DVD, 24’s star Kiefer Sutherland and such other cast members as Elisha Cuthbert, Carlos Bernard, Reiko Aylesworth and Penny Johnson Jerald dispell the notion that actors are only focused on their own parts by offering perceptive insights into the crucial role of editors in making their characters coherent in a real-time format. (24’s central conceit is that the action in each one-hour episode takes place in 60 continuous minutes.)

Sutherland, who visited the editing room and watched his performance evolve through various stages of editing, explains, “As an actor I’ve always had an incredible respect for editing. You go through scenes that are incredibly difficult to get through or to make, and yet when you see the film, they seem to seamlessly go together. And you go, ‘Gosh, it doesn’t look like it was difficult at all.’ The editors had to figure out how to take all these elements and put them together, and they were actually responsible for making this concept of a real-time show cohesive. And for that we are eternally grateful.”

Ron Kutak, Executive Director of the Motion Picture Editors Guild, was interviewed for the bonus material on the DVD. “If you truly want to be an editor, and that’s important to you, you need to learn the technological side, but you also need to learn the storytelling side because at the end of the day, that’s what everyone is doing: They are telling a story,” Kutak says in discussing the craft in Journeys. “Many of the people who have come into the industry have come from all sorts of different places: English literature and film courses as well. But generally, editing is a language, and the language needs to be learned to communicate. The communication is ideas. The more you are grounded in a basic liberal arts education, I think the better off you are in life, as well as for a career in this business.”

Jon Cassar, the main director and co-producer of 24, acknowledged his debt to his editors in an interview in Journeys. “I really rely on them to give me a first cut that gets very close to what we end up airing,” he explains. “Most of the time that I go in to the cutting room, I can’t remember spending more than an hour with any one of them.”

24 is in many ways a model for editing.

Perhaps that’s because the editors themselves, though not directors, are masters at understanding the narrative principles. Chris Willingham, ACE, the 2004 Emmy Award winner for editing 24, points out, “I think of ourselves as storytellers and that’s what it’s all about. You cut when it helps the story and that’s the bottom line.” His editorial colleague Scott Powell, ACE, honored earlier this year with an Eddie Award from the American Cinema Editors (ACE), adds, “I think I have the greatest job in the world––taking visual images and sounds and molding and shaping them to tell stories and stir emotions.”

Cassar realizes the Herculean task involved in looking at tens of thousands of feet of film released to the editors in the space of a few days. “The volume of footage that these gentlemen have to go through is incredible,” he says. “It’s up to them to go through all that footage and find those little nuggets and put them in.” The scenes in Journeys of Cassar sitting with Powell watching the dailies and making technical decisions make compelling points about the interaction and collaboration between editors and director.

Farrel Levy, A.C.E. and Stan Salfas, A.C.E. are both supervising editors on prominent television series — Levy on NYPD Blue and Salfas on Felicity. While they have worked on many types of projects, both have found that television offered them unexpected opportunities, including the chance to direct their own episodes. In this continuation of last issue’s conversation, they talk about how a television series is put together, how editing has prepared them to be effective directors and how working in television has made it easier to balance work and family.

Levy: Getting back to the process of how a television episode plays out in post, the director comes into the editing room for a relatively short time. Contractually they have just four days to do their cut. Compared to features, the director just passes through. I’ll often have certain things in there because I know it’s the style of the show, or, having worked with the producers before, I know this is the kind of performance or the kind of shot they’re going to want. But it’s my responsibility to deliver that director’s cut. Sometimes directors want to experiment. Sometimes that’s welcomed, oftentimes it’s not, and the producers just go back to what they know is tried and true. It’s important to be respectful of the director’s wishes — but, ultimately in television, that’s not the final word.

Salfas: In general, that’s the way we work, as well. But I have a different relationship on the shows that I direct, because I edit them as well.

Levy: I don’t edit the episodes that I direct. But because I work on the show, I’m able to stay more involved than a visiting director would. Usually, when we finish the director’s cut, it’s presented at a small screening. The people who attend that screening are Steven Bochco, the writers, the producers — a group of maybe seven to ten people.

Salfas: That’s a very sane system. We don’t really do it that formally. We make tapes and distribute them.

“When I’m not directing, I always think, ‘Oh, I really wish I were directing.’ When I’m directing, I feel like, ‘Why am I doing this? This is crazy.'” – Stan Salfas

Levy: Steven likes to screen with a group of people. He respects the value of an audience response, even if it’s a small audience, as opposed to one person sitting alone in a room. No matter what you do, everyone is thinking about what their role in it was. So the writers will be thinking about it from a story point of view, and the directors will be looking at the directing and the editors are looking at all the things that we did right or did wrong. But if you’re together in a room, some of that goes away and you focus on the big picture — are we telling a good story? At some point, the director is congratulated — or not — and the discussion begins. How do we improve the show? That’s when the writers roll up their sleeves. In some cases, major restructuring has to be done, or confusing elements must be made clearer. Occasionally, a new scene will be added and shot to clarify something. And, in some cases, it’s just a question of refining or getting the show down to time.

Salfas: Basically, that’s what happens with us, too. We distribute tapes of the director’s cut to the producers, and they take the cuts from there. Sometimes the shows will be very close to what they had anticipated, and more often they’re not. And then there’s a fair amount of work that we end up having to do.

Levy: What are some of the problems that you guys encounter? Is it performance? Is it story elements that didn’t translate from the page? Is it time? Are they way over and have to figure out how to take out thirteen minutes?

Salfas: It’s all those things. Length is usually the first thing that’s a problem. You have a fixed length for the show, and that places all kinds of restrictions on your story.

Levy: Artists love what they do, and there are many things that all of us — directors, editors, writers, etc. — fall in love with. But someone who’s as experienced as Steven knows that you can’t fall in love, and that you have to be willing to excise things that are wonderful to make a story play better. You have to be very self-critical and very confident at the same time. Often, there are an abundance of riches, and you have to be willing to part with something — to have confidence that the finished product is going to be strong and stand on its own. You can’t cry over things that you had to leave out. That really continues to impress me about the producers I work with —the ability to be self-critical and the willingness to part with wonderful things.

“Even if you’re directing for somebody else, it’s still a skill, we’re refining our ability to interpret material in a particular way.” – Farrel Levy

Salfas: On a show like Felicity, the story is a very complex problem. On a NYPD Blue or Homicide or Law & Order, it’s easier to have an event-based story. On Law & Order you’re going to have a different crime each week, and a different solution to the crime. But Felicity is completely character-based. These are people who are in college, who are not in particularly dire circumstances. Yet they are going through a very complex time in their lives. Their world is in some ways quite small, and to create stories that have resonance and vitality is not a simple thing. A number of the people who work on Felicity came to see the pilot for Alias, an ABC show that I edited, and they said, “Oh, my God, why can’t we work on this show?” Every week, the main character runs off to another country to work on a new top-secret plot. But on Felicity, it’s not that easy. We work very hard on story problems in post-production. Until this year, J.J. Abrams primarily ran the writers’ room, and Matt Reeves worked in post-production with me and the other editors. And Matt is great in the cutting room. He loves the process of editing, and he believes very strongly in the power of editing to make drama work.

Levy: Ultimately, it always falls on post, whether it’s TV or features. In the end, we’re the ones who have to solve the problems.

Salfas: In almost every movie I’ve worked on, we have gone back and re-shot the ending. But on my show, you cannot go back and say, “Guess what? We didn’t get this.” There are no other resources. Nothing will humble you more as an editor than directing one of these shows. You will never again criticize a director for not having given you what you needed. It is humanly impossible to do what you need to do in eight days.

Levy: When I finally got the chance to direct, I knew how to tell the story visually, because of the time I had spent in the cutting room. I knew how the story got told in the style of our show. As an editor, I was so used to looking at dailies that I could say, “Okay, I know I have this performance. I can move on.” In fact, I’ve been told that when editors get a chance to direct, one of the strengths they bring is a decisiveness about performance and about which shots they need. I think that if someone’s starting out as a director, one of the things that would really help them is looking at dailies. Seeing something on that screen over and over from the point of view of the camera is a very different gestalt than being on a set in three-dimensional space. That constant reviewing of dailies and putting dailies together really helps when you’re the one in the director’s chair. It helps you to know when you have all the pieces you need.

“Length is usually the first thing that’s a problem. You have a fixed length for the show, and that places all kinds of restrictions on your story.” – Stan Salfas

Salfas: With video assist, in a way, you’re doing what you do when you’re editing. You have those little monitors, and you’re watching and trying to respond to what’s going on, just as you do in your editing room. If you really are doing your work as an editor, you’re staying open and sensitive to your material and letting it affect you, and letting that dictate your choices. It’s a little harder, because there are so many more things going on around you. But when you’re shooting, when the camera’s rolling and you’re watching the shot, if you shut down everything around you and develop this relationship between you and that little monitor, you can, in a way, recreate what you go through in the editing room. And, you have a great advantage, because you are used to doing it. If you’ve been successfully employed for a length of time, people have been paying you to sit in a room in front of a screen and absorb what you’re seeing and manipulate it as a result of how you’ve responded.

Levy: How do you feel about directing vs. editing? Would you rather just be directing? For myself, I like doing both. I really like the cutting room, but I like creating the material that comes into the editing room, too.

Salfas: I can’t really answer the question. I’m completely confused by it, because I find television directing is unlike anything else I’ve ever done. I’ve directed other things — a lot of theater, three or four of my own films — and I always associate that with directing. When you’re working on episodic television, you’re shooting seven or eight pages a day. Everyone thinks Felicity has a lot of money. In fact, we are a very low-budget show — budgeted lower than most other WB shows. So, we rarely have any overtime. We don’t go out on location very often; almost everything is done on our stages. And there is so much pressure on you as a director to deliver those seven or eight pages of material and to have it basically coherent. In a way, you’re just trying to avert disaster. When you’re making a TV show, you are directing for the writers and creators of the show. They have a very clear idea of what they want. They may have communicated it to you well or not. It doesn’t matter. If you don’t give them what they expect, then you’re not really fulfilling your job as a director. Normally a director has a vision of his or her material and then he attempts to execute it, to complete it. But, when you’re working on a television show, the writer has the vision, and your job is to realize it. I find that to be hair-raising. It’s a wild ride. When I’m not directing, I always think, “Oh, I really wish I were directing.” When I’m directing, I feel like, “Why am I doing this? This is crazy.” So, I don’t know how to answer the question.

Levy: But on the other hand, even if you’re directing for somebody else, it’s still a skill, and if the material is decent — which yours is, which mine is — we’re refining our ability to interpret material in a particular way. And then, if you have the opportunity to execute your own vision, you’ve already had the chance to work with actors, interpret a script, design shots, manage a large group of people under a time pressure, etc.

“When I finally got the chance to direct, I knew how to tell the story visually, because of the time I had spent in the cutting room. when editors get a chance to direct, one of the strengths they bring is a decisiveness about performance and about which shots they need.” – Farrel Levy 

Salfas: Episodic directing does not get much respect in the world of directors. And I never had the highest respect for it until I started trying to do it. Then I realized how incredibly impossible it was to do. And no matter what the show is, every director will bring a different sensibility. I can show you five different episodes of Felicity, and you or almost any person could say, “This was directed by that person and this was not directed by that person.” There’s definitely something a director imparts to material. I think a lot of it is unconscious. Their personality and sensibilities and instincts come out in the material, whether they intend it or not.

Levy: The aim in our show is to have the episodes be stylistically consistent. Certainly, the directors bring things to them, but the episodes should seem in a sense, “directorless.” They really need to seem like one continuum.

Salfas: On our show, too, we want to achieve a continuum. We’re trying to tell the story from the main character’s point of view, so we’re not as interested in having some point of view from outside the show.

Levy: One thing that’s very exciting to me is the relative flexibility that television has to accommodate timely story-telling. After the World Trade Center attack, many shows, including NYPD Blue, were able to write scenes and whole shows to reflect this new reality. In the TV world, where the writer has so much control, and productions are already geared up to shoot 13 to 22 scripts that will be written over many months, it is much easier than in the feature world to keep stories current. I’m amazed every year that the stories continue to be fresh, that the writers are able to keep the storytelling interesting. Every feature you work on creates a different world with different characters, locations and conflicts. But I have stayed in the same world for going on nine years now, and the quality of the work has been high.

Salfas: This year I did Alias, which could not be more different from Felicity. Our nickname for it is “La Femme Felicity,” and it’s a kick-ass, high-energy drama with a woman lead, instead of a man. It’s 70 minutes long, designed to be shown without any commercials. Everyone who knew me said, “You’re going to do Alias? I thought you only cut these sensitive, emotional things.” I’ve been on this show for four years, and the only other thing I did during that time was Gideon’s Crossing. Before that, I prided myself on doing a range of things. But at this point in my life, I don’t mind being identified with this kind of work because frankly, I value it very highly.

“on my show [Felicity], you cannot go back and say, “Guess what? We didn’t get this.” There are no other resources. Nothing will humble you more as an editor than directing one of these shows. You will never again criticize a director for not having given you what you needed.” – Stan Salfas

Levy: That’s a concern that I do have, because NYPD Blue has such a specific style. People say, “Can you do anything besides NYPD Blue?” I have worked on other shows, as well. I worked on Primal Fear and I did the Brooklyn South pilot, both of which were very different, and I’ve worked on movies of the week and features, as well. I’ve chosen to stay here, and I do worry about being pigeonholed. On the other hand, the experience of working on this show has been so satisfying overall. I’ve had the opportunity to work with top people. I’ve learned and gained an immense amount. I still enjoy what I do. At some point, when I move on, someone will understand that, yes, good editing and good storytelling is really what it’s about. Happily, working on a TV show for me has meant not having to go away on location, being able to have a family life. I’ve had the chance to be an active parent.

Salfas: That’s a big plus. I value my family life very, very much.

Levy: Having a summer vacation, which I never had before. Knowing that I have something to go back to in the fall has been such a gift because so often, a freelancer is not sure what the next thing’s going to be. You’re not sure how much time you’ll have off. I’ve been very fortunate to have a real pattern for my life for a while. I guess I could say that I’ve had a chance to have my cake and eat it, too, because I’ve been able to focus on my family and I’ve also had very rewarding, creative experiences as an editor on the show.

Salfas: But in all fairness, we’re not necessarily talking about the norm. You’re working with one of the great creators of television, and I’m working with someone whose highest values have to do with editing. A lot of executive producers are not interested in editing. They’re primarily interested in their writing, and they’re focused on letting the editing and the directing fulfill their writing. On my show, because of the personalities and the nature of the creators, we’re very focused on all the expressive elements, whether it’s the writing, the directing, the editing, cinematography, the acting. There’s a fundamental understanding that potent drama demands excellence in each of these areas. And there’s an expectation that television can aspire to and achieve a sense of truth about human behavior.

by Scott Essman

In the spring of 1999, after just 13 episodes, the HBO series The Sopranos had created as much buzz as any TV program in recent memory. The brainchild of executive producer David Chase, The Sopranos is now into its second season. It features a dynamic cast with production values that are polished but never obtrusive. Already, the show has returned to the forefront of both public and critical attention, garnering Golden Globe awards for best dramatic television program, for its two leads-James Gandolfini and Edie Falco-and for supporting actress Nancy Marchand. What’s more, editor William Stich, ACE has received an Eddie nomination for his work on last season’s finale.

The Sopranos is a prime example of the popularity that television programs can achieve without the support of the major networks. After Chase developed the basic idea for the show, none of the big four networks were interested. This blessing-in-disguise eventually lead Chase to HBO, where the show is appropriately free from the effects of censorship. Hence, The Sopranos offers viewers an unbridled look into the world of a Mafia boss (Gandolfini) and the two “families” with whom he struggles-in his domestic life and his business life. The intimacy with which the show’s characters are presented, combined with the energy of its plotlines, makes for powerful and compelling entertainment.

In this interview, conducted in early January, the current season’s three picture editors – Conrad Gonzalez, Stich, and Sidney Wolinsky – offer their thoughts on all things Soprano. The three exuded confidence and pleasure as they spoke about the elements that comprise The Sopranos.

How exciting is it to work on a show that has so quickly achieved this much popularity?

Conrad Gonzalez:  Part of you is excited about it, and another part of you is almost wondering if it’s really happening. In all my years in the business, I haven’t ever been attached to a hit of this magnitude. It’s thrilling to see it happen for David Chase because he’s one of the few filmmakers I’ve worked with who’s had such a singular vision.

“I don’t feel, as an editor, that David would ever turn to me and say, ‘Stop being creative. This is the way I’m going to do it. It’s my show.'” – William Stich

In what ways would you say that is true?

CG:  David is very particular and just knows what he wants. It’s not that he doesn’t experiment or try things during the cuts, but he has a certain sensibility and a strong vision of how he sees the show. He truly uses the post-production process as a final rewrite, unlike many TV shows where they’re more attached to their words and scenes and moments. The Sopranos takes on a new life in post because David will get in there and really cut an episode.

Why would this show, which shoots in New York and New Jersey, have its post-production occur in Los Angeles?

CG:  The decision was made because David comes back to his home in Los Angeles to work with us directly after principal photography is completed on the season’s episodes. During production, we send tapes back and forth, get notes from David, and send cuts to him back east.

How is that system organized?

CG:  We try to deliver a really terrific first cut, a foundation to start from. While he’s on location, David views the shows by himself, his assistant takes down notes, and they get faxed to us. We execute the notes and Fed-Ex the cuts back to him. What we lose is the one-to-one interaction with him in the cutting room, but David’s notes are so direct and specific, it all works out.

How do you feel about the secrecy in which the show is shrouded?

William Stich:  It’s very important for the series because it has this enormous artistic aspect. The whole process is very secretive. David wants to keep it that way so that when an episode airs, the audience doesn’t know what they’re going to get and it’s more fun. Part of the show’s premise is to keep everything a secret.

When is it determined who is going to cut various episodes amongst you?

Sidney Wolinsky:  It is simply a rotation: each of us cuts every third show. The only decision is the order in which each person starts. There are thirteen episodes, and I cut the first one, so I cut five in total, and Bill and Conrad cut four each.

Scene from The Sopranos. Copyright HBO

Could this show be produced at the same quality level if it were a full season’s worth of episodes?

CG:  I think a lot of care is taken with the scripts,so I’m not sure that that many scripts of that quality could be generated in the same amount of time.

What is the shooting schedule for each episode?

SW:  They shoot an episode in eight or nine days, depending on the complexity of the show.

CG:  Normally the intention is to shoot an entire edpisode and then move on, but because there are so many company moves in every show they don’t always achieve it. They lose a lot of time and sometimes work ungodly hours to get the show done. As the season progresses, we inevitably see some additional shooting either because things were missed in the original shoot or, less frequently, for story reasons.

With three of you editing and at least five directors working on various episodes, is it difficult to edit The Sopranos in a consistent manner?

WS:  It’ s basically the David Chase show, and you get a feeling for his pacing through the scripts. You’re not dealing with three or four producers, you’re dealing with David Chase, and he lets you know where he’s trying to go with in the direction of a scene. It’s not like we’re just randomly doing something and then making changes for one producer who has an idea how a scene is supposed to be, then going in and trying to restructure it again for another producer who has a different idea. We’re dealing with one vision, which is David Chase’s.

Doesn’t that limit your ability to bring creative ideas to the show?

WS:  I don’t think that David ever squelches anything that we want to do creatively, but there is a direction that he has in all of the shows. It’s a major plus that we’re dealing with his vision. I may go off in a direction and he has never said, ‘I hate that.’ He’ll let you try something, and then he’ll rein you back in if you’re going the wrong way. I don’t feel, as an editor, that David would ever turn to me and say, ‘Stop being creative. This is the way I’m going to do it. It’s my show’ He always has said that this process is very collaborative, but it’s nice to have a vision that you can follow; as a film editor, that’s great.

CG:  The nature of what we do is help other people realize their vision, and it’s easier to do that if the person you’re working with knows what they want. The more the person knows what they’re after, the easier it is to help them get to that place.

SW:  The more input I can get from the people I’m working with, the better I can function to help them get what they want.

“Our job is to figure out how to tell the story in the scenes. We don’t omit lines; we put everything in script order.” – Sidney Wolinsky

With regards to your involvement as a team, how does The Sopranos maintain such a consistent tone from show to show?

CG:  One of the things that’s valuable to us, in terms of how David sees each scene, is that we have tone meetings before each production. It’s usually attended by David, the director of that show’s episode, the writer of that show, a few key production people, and the editor. They conference us on the telephone while they meet in New York, and we go through the script, beat by beat, scene by scene. Thus, David makes the dramatic intent of the scene perfectly clear to the director. Then, we take that knowledge from the tone meeting and we’re able to facilitate that into our first cuts-our thoughts have already been impregnated with the specific intentions for the script. That’s very valuable in the sense that we’re not really interpreting in regards to the editor’s cut. On the other hand, David respects our craftsmanship and gives us a lot of free reign in terms of how we cut the shows. Then he just gets very specific about the pace, and works the script in the final cut.

What is the outcome of the tone meetings from the editors’ point of view?

SW:  We have the opportunity to ask questions if we don’t understand something in the script, and the production people will have an opportunity to get things clarified. Everyone starts the show on the same page, no pun intended.

Once a show has been shot, how long do you get to create your editor’s cut before the director’s involvement?

SW:  We have five days after we get our last dailies to present an editor’s cut to the director of that episode. Typically, we send the editor’s cut to the director, or sit down with the director and look at the editor’s cut, depending on where the director is. And then the director contractually has four days for his cut. That’s the DGA stipulation on a one-hour show. Then the episode goes to David, and he has as long as he wants until the airdate.

Can you describe your interaction with the director during the four days he has for his cut?

SW:  If the director is in Los Angeles, he will come to the cutting room, and either run the show and give us notes, or run the show and sit with us while we execute the notes. If he’s in New York, we go through the same procedure with him as we go through with David, which is, we send him a cut, and he will give you notes over the phone. Sometimes you’ll spend a number of hours on the phone while he runs the show and gives you notes. Then you will execute his notes, send him the cut, get more notes, and finalize his cut. Once it’s locked, it is sent to David.

Scene from The Sopranos. Copyright HBO

Due to David’s involvement in the show, does the director have a reduced input in the way that an episode is edited?

CG:  If directors in series TV are successful, they have a whole season of commitments to do various shows, so they usually have to move on to prep their next show. On The Sopranos, two of our directors do outside work, and our one staff director, Alan Coulter, is very meticulous and very involved in his director’s cuts. He has a clear vision of how he shoots it and how each scene is worked out thematically. He likes to get on the phone and go over the show for two hours while he’s running his cassette with you at your Avid. But again, in series TV, it’s an executive producer’s medium, not the director’s, as in feature films.

Is each of you often cutting more than one episode at a time as the shooting company completes their work on your different episodes?

WS:  Yes, but that’s the basic nature of series television. I’ve never worked on a series television show where it’s, ‘Oh, boy! I’m done with my show. Now I can go start cutting on my new one.’ And it makes it difficult to jump back and forth between your episodes. Our producer (and one of the episodes’ directors) Martin Bruestle is very good about adjusting the schedule, so that, if we are in an editor’s cut on an episode, and get notes from David on another episode, we can address those notes and then go back to the show that’s in its editor’s cut without losing the time we need to complete it. Then David has a chance to look at that show and then we can try to get our first cut together.

CG:  Also, we have terrific assistants (April Lawrence, Gerald Valdez, and Lynne Whitlock), who are highly organized and make that all easy for us. The shows are all on line and we have enough memory in our drives to carry all of our shows with us simultaneously.

In what format is the show produced and edited?

SW:  It is shot in 35mm, shipped here for processing at CFI and telecined onto Digital Betacam at Riot. Then we receive 3/4-inch video dailies that we digitize into the Avid. For air, we do an on-line – associate producer Gregg Glickman supervises all of the final finishing, and Martin Bruestle supervises the sound dub and music.

How are a majority of the songs and music chosen for the show?

WS:  Sometimes the scripts specifically say, ‘For this scene, so-and-so is playing in the background.’ Martin and David work very closely on the music for The Sopranos. Martin is constantly working to find new and different music for the show. David may say, ‘Hey, Martin, let’s see if we can get this song for here,’ so Martin is constantly on the move, trying to figure things out.

“The nature of what we do is help other people realize their vision, and it’s easier to do that if the person you’re working with knows what they want.” – Conrad Gonzalez

For this year’s first episode, the choice of FrankSinatra’s ‘It Was a Very Good Year’ in the opening montage helped set the tone for this entire season.

SW:  That was chosen at the script stage. They played the song back on the set to kind of get the pace of it, but it wasn’t really shot to the song.

To what degree do you all follow the scripts?

WS:  In a first cut, the way I was trained, you follow the script. Every director or executive producer that I’ve ever worked for wants to see first what’s written on the paper. Then they’ll move scenes around and change things, but the script is what they bought. If you run into a problem, and you can’t make a transition, or you feel that something should go in an area, you can talk to them and do it. But on this show, you put your cut together per the written page.

SW:  Our job is to figure out how to tell the story in the scenes. We don’t omit lines; we put everything in script order. Sometimes you get a phone call saying, ‘I shot something a certain way. Try it this specific way.’ But that is the exception rather than the rule.

CG:  It’s part of the job as an editor to interpret the footage, unless you’re given specific notes on how to put it together. But I find that it’s always more comfortable for me to figure out how the pieces of the puzzle go together. Editing is a very instinctual job where a lot of what you do comes from your gut. Ultimately what I try to put in my first cut is what works for me. Unless you worked with a director that had a very clear vision, and he could just spell it out for you, I think that’s really what the editor’s job is. I think all three of us take pride in the choices we make in our first cuts. And, on this show, much of a good first cut’s internal editing will survive the final cut.

Could The Sopranos work as effectively on one of the big three networks?

WS:  You wouldn’t have the nudity, the profanity, and the violence in it, but I think the show would still have the conflicts, which, to me, is why most people enjoy the show: the drama between Tony and his mother, his children and his wife. Even though the profanity couldn’t be used, those inherent relationships would still work. And I think that on the other side of the family that he deals with, being the Mafia side, those conflicts would still work, too. Because it’s on HBO, we now have a great deal of freedom, but I think the scripts are structured well enough that they could still survive and it would be a popular show on a network.

SW:  It’s one of those hypothetical questions, but I think everything would be so different if this were a network show, that it would just be an alternate universe. From the very ground up, it would be different-having nothing to do with us. Would the casting be the same? Would the same scriptwriters be hired, apart from David? Would the schedule be the same? There’d be a demand for more-they’d have to be doing 20 to 25 shows.

Scene from The Sopranos. Copyright HBO

CG:  I think the show would probably be neutered, and the conflicts wouldn’t be allowed to be as extreme; they might try to make, for example, Tony Soprano’s mother, Livia, more likable. We wouldn’t be allowed to go to the extremes that we go to. They’d try to reach more of a cross-section audience. We couldn’t go over the edge, press the envelope. I don’t know that it would as successful-the tone of the show would surely be altered.

Is it an extra plus to have a leading man like James Gandolfini around whom you can build your scenes?

CG:  Oh yes. I coined the phrase ‘Gandolfini, the man with a thousand expressions.’ Sometimes he says more with silent reactions than he does with the written word, and he goes to places inside of himself and pulls these looks up. It’s rare that an actor has that ability to go to so many different places.

WS:  He’s always working and gives you a performance that is sometimes unbelievable, unusual and new. It’s a pleasure, but I think that goes for all the cast. I can’t think of times where I get bad performances.

Do you think the manner in which you create the individual episodes of this show approximates the way in which you work on a feature film?

WS:  It depends on the director. Some are very expeditious with their film because they have their vision of how they want the scene to go together. With other directors, you’ll get a lot of footage, and it’s not because they don’t have a vision; it’s just what they do — they just shoot a lot of film. On this show, we generally average an hour, sometimes up to an hour and a half of dailies, which is not above the norm.

“I find that it’s always more comfortable for me to figure out how the pieces of the puzzle go together. Editing is a very instinctual job where a lot of what you do comes from your gut.” – Conrad Gonzalez

CG:  My answer would be yes. As I mentioned earlier the show started production in early July but our first airdate wasn’t until mid-January. Because of this we have the rare opportunity to take our time in post, which is contrary to most television series’ post schedules. David is afforded the time to work with us to make the best shows possible. A typical Sopranos episode might go through a dozen or more major recuts. In this respect, we have the luxury to shape our shows much like you would on a feature.

What will the remainder of your schedules consist of now that the second season has wrapped?

SW:  They will finish shooting in a few days. Then, David will be back here, and we’ll start to lock all the shows.Within about a month, by the end of February, I think we’ll be all finished.

William, what was your reaction to being nominated for an ACE Eddie Award for your work on the show?

WS:  It’s a terrific honor, and David is a very exciting person to work with. He’s a wonderful filmmaker– he cares about the product that he’s working on. It’s a thrill to work with him and I’m enormously proud and happy for myself, especially since it happened on The Sopranos — I know that a lot of what went on in the cutting room came from David. I feel very fortunate because this show is a lot of work, but it’s fun, too. And it’s nice, getting paid to work on something that’s fun.

by Linda Dove

The X-Files is a TV phenomenon, with fans across the globe, websites and Internet conventions. Stephen Mark edited the pilot and the series for three seasons before moving on to Millenium. I talked to him just as he was embarking on the X-Files first feature.

Steven Mark:I think of myself as a “film editor” rather than as a “TV editor,” although I’m certainly aware that many people in our industry perceive that there’s some sort of difference between TV, MoW, feature editors, and so on. That perception has probably been an impediment to my working on features since I suspect employers use those distinctions as a way of reducing the number of candidates they need to consider for any given job opening.

But really the basic job of editing is the same in all those formats. There may be subtle differences in the kind of problems that accompany each format-different time constraints, more or less film available for making choices or for solving problems-but all editors are doing the same thing, reacting to the film they receive and deciding how to put the best bits of it into the best order at the best length for telling the story.

I certainly would like to believe that someone looking for a feature editor would consider me as seriously as they would any other experienced editor, and that’s not because I want to abandon television, but rather because major studio features are where the money is in our profession. I have two kids I want to put through college, and I like the way deal making is handled in the feature world much better than in TV.

Any good editor has strong ideas about the best way to play a particular moment in a show and has to be willing to articulate his views to his collaborators.

I can speak with a little experience about this now that I’m working on ‘The X-Files’ movie. It seems that studios negotiate with feature editors based on their personal accomplishments-their track records for doing good (and successful) work, their salary histories, their relationships with the directors and producers who want to hire them. In television -especially series television-the studios view editors as interchangeable.

Editors are a class, not individuals, and there is little meritocracy beyond the fact that you’ve been offered the job at all. The studio sets a rate (usually two to three hundred dollars above scale) for TV editors and leaves little room for negotiation. The quality of work you have done or can do, the degree to which the show you are on is successful, or even how bad the producer wants you on the show, carry very little weight if it means breaking the studio’s precedent about how much it’s decided to pay all its editors.

The Money May Be In Features, But The TV Audience Is Bigger.

 Mark: There are some ironies here. For one thing, a TV editor’s work is often seen by more people than a feature editor’s. Even TV flops get bigger audiences than some moderately successful features. A rating point is about 900 to 950 thousand people, so if your ratings are down around 8 or 9, which is not considered wonderful, your show is being seen by 8 million people. If those people paid $7 each to see a film-that’s a $56 million box office.

For another thing, the TV editor may actually have more responsibility for what the audience sees than does a feature editor. We have less time to collaborate with a director than a feature editor does-maybe two or three days as opposed to weeks or months.

Left, Fox Mulder (David Duchovny) and Dana Scully (Gillian Anderson) in a scene from X-Files: Millennium. Courtesy of Ten Thirteen Productions Copyright 1999

The TV editor also spends another three to five days working with the show’s producers, but all in all it’s incumbent upon the TV editor to have his first cut as close to airable as possible. Given the collaborative time available, my philosophy is I don’t want to be revising more than maybe 15% of my cut-especially if I want to be invited back for the next season. I pride myself on the small amount of time directors and producers feel they have to spend with me to get the show right.

The Particular Demands Of Editing For Television

 Mark: A series television editor has less film to work with than a feature editor and less time to cut. The smaller amount of film can be an advantage when you’re working fast because obviously you have fewer choices. On the other hand, if something isn’t working, you have fewer ways to solve the problem. Often enormous creativity and resourcefulness are necessary to deal with problems in a TV cutting-room that would never even come up on a feature just because the feature production crew had more time to shoot it right in the first place.

The TV editor also has to deal with the discipline of cutting the show to a time limit. I can only think of a couple of cases where going through this process actually hurt the show aesthetically, and I’m often surprised at how much better a show can get just because we are forced to shorten it. Interestingly, one episode I did that I thought worked better two or three versions earlier than the one we locked was an episode that won both the writer and the guest star, Peter Boyle, Emmy awards last year.

There Are Advantages To Finishing On Tape

 Mark: With the speed involved in turning over a TV episode, I view the whole digital revolution as a blessing that has made my job more humane. The fact that we cut in computers and deliver on video instead of film allows for much more flexibility. One of my big “secrets”these days, for adding pace to”an actor’s performance, is to speed up a few frames in between sentences or during a particularly stoic reaction and then returning the shot to normal speed. Sure, you could do it on film, but you wouldn’t know whether it had worked or not without spending money on test opticals-and get the studio to approve that!

I used to tell new assistants that worked for me that I had two rules about being as assistant: the first was don’t leave your coffee on the editing bench and the second was eavesdrop.

I like it that I no longer debate with directors and producers over whether a change note will work or not. I think any good editor has strong ideas about the best way to play a particular moment in a show and has to be willing to articulate his views to his collaborators. But before computers, when working on film, I’d sometimes get change notes that I knew would be long and hard to accomplish yet wouldn’t in my opinion improve the show.

I’d end up in debates with producers or attempts to talk a director out of even trying the change. Now I never argue until I’ve tried the note. It’s no big deal because the original version is saved. We can then look at both versions and discuss which works best. Plus, in going through the process of making the change, I may come up with a third alternative that solves everyone’s problem without hurting the film.

Working Hours And Eavesdropping Assistants

Mark: When I did cut on film, it was not uncommon for me to work until midnight or one in the morning two or three days during the process of getting into a first cut. And I’d still have to send a scene or two out to an editor on the series who had less to do that week or to my assistant. I can recall leaving my cutting room at Universal at 1 am, heading for the parking structure, and literally breaking down in tears because I was so tired, and there was this existential angst about why was I here, this exhausted, over a television show. Now, with this electronic stuff, not only do I tend to work from maybe ten in the morning until maybe six-thirty, I never need somebody to help cut scenes.

That thought leads me to a disturbing aside, however. What does seem to be lost are those situations where I tossed a scene to my assistant because I really needed his help to finish the show. Then he cut it, showed it to me, we worked on revisions, and so on, and it ended up in the cut. The director and producer saw it and, if they liked the scene, I could say, “Well, my assistant did that.” That’s a great way for assistants to get some recognition if they want to move up. Ironically, now an assistant who can find the time to get onto the editing machine can practice cutting absolutely anything he wants. And I suppose if everyone has time, he can show his cuts to the editor and get some feedback. But somehow because the pressure isn’t there-the editor doesn’t need the assistant to do that scene-I don’t see assistants doing much cutting. That chance for recognition is diminished.

A scene from X-Files: Millennium. Courtesy of Ten Thirteen Productions Copyright 1999

There has been a move in television to reduce the number of assistants as a result of electronic editing. The belief is that because the assistants can’t get on the machine when the editor’s on it, they spend a lot of time sitting around, therefore they should be able to assist on more than one show at a time. For the past two seasons at Fox there have been two assistants for three editors. This, to me, is an appalling situation. Maybe the assistants can handle the work in the sense that they do what they’re told, but what they can’t do is go beyond the minimum requirements, much less find time to do some cutting.

When I judge an assistant personally, what I look for is how well does this person do what I want done before it occurs to me to ask him. I used to tell new assistants that worked for me that I had two rules about being as assistant: the first was don’t leave your coffee on the editing bench and the second was eavesdrop. If you’re not in the cutting room eavesdropping, anticipating what needs doing, then you’re waiting for the editor to tell you everything, and I’m not fond of that.

With the system imposed on us at Fox, if I need an assistant, I have to go hunt one up, and if he’s busy with someone else, I’d better write down what I want so I don’t forget it myself and once I do communicate what I need, I can forget about him following up on it unless I remind him. So if I ask three days later, “Whatever happened to that temp sound effect I needed?” The answer is, “Oh, yeah, I called about that and the guy hasn’t gotten back to me.” And what can I say? The poor assistant’s been trying to get someone else’s show ready for online and I took a back seat.

All editors are doing the same thing, reacting to the film they receive and deciding how to put the best bits of it into the best order at the best length for telling the story.

 I asked Stephen if he would be trying to maintain the specific style of The X-Files in the feature.

 Mark: My style is the result of how my personality, my judgment of performance and photography, and my intuitive sense of rhythm react to the film that I see. It’s not something that I impose consciously- although I do a lot of intellectual analysis when I realize something isn’t working.

Once I focus on where that problem is, I still go back to my gut reaction to find the solution. If the feature is shot differently than the series, I suppose I might react to it differently.

The director of the movie, Rob Bowman, is one of the most stylish of the X-Files series’ directors, so I doubt that the fundamental style will be different. What will be new for me (although I have cut low budget features, so I shouldn’t act as quite such a novice) is that I think cuts look different on a big screen than they do on video.

We’re shooting super 35, which is a new thing to me, and we’re going to telecine with a hard matte-I think it’s a 2.4 to 1 aspect ratio or something odd like that. I want a really big Avid monitor to get the sense of how that’s going to feel. We’ll be conforming the workprint so we can go into a screening room periodically and see the cuts.

We use a lot of intense close-ups in the series, and seeing those ECU’s on a wide screen may sometimes look ridiculous depending on the moment. I may have to learn where to back off on that stuff. Ultimately, of course, this will be the director’s call, but it will be interesting for me to see how it works.