Video Production Books

In Attack of the Killer Video Book, Mark Shulman and Hazlitt Krog, two veteran American filmmaker/writers who specialize in young people's film and video production,provide everything young people need to know to create their own masterpieces on video. Illustrated by artist Martha Newbigging's cartoons, the book stands out for a number of reasons, particularly the authors' ability to walk that fine line between making filmmaking seem "cool" to young readers while at the same time dispensing the kind of practical technical advice they need.

Shulman and Krog cover every imaginable aspect of moviemaking, including scriptwriting, choosing locations and costumes, shooting, and editing footage. What's more, they go beyond the technical details of production, providing excellent instructional material that teaches young readers how to brainstorm potential story ideas and how to promote their work and organize a premiere screening. Readers will benefit by the outstanding organization of the text into step-bystep thematic chunks - including assembling a production team, instructions for directors, handling and operating a camera - while at the same time enjoying the high-energy prose and lively illustrations.

Adults will value the book's underlying can-do theme, which shows how young people can create something of lasting value on their own while learning important lessons about creativity, team-building and seeing a big project through to completion. As a writer and organizer of film discussion groups for kids, this book is highly recommended.

It's incredible how many Aussies dominate our movies now. This is a great read about how they did it. The stars interviewed for this book are huge - Eric Bana, Nicole Kidman, Geoffrey Rush, Naomi Watts, directors and many more. The interviews are quite candid and the authors don't gush over their subjects like magazine articles do. Anthony LaPaglia and Heath Ledger's stories are particularly interesting. There's good gossip for fans, great tips for aspiring actors and directors and inspiring tales for anyone else. Another great Australian export!

In today's society of "win-at-all-costs," Freeman's heartfelt testimony about his toils of an eilite athlete (and a coach of elite athletes) is a breath of fresh air! Freeman takes the reader through his journey and by the end, we conclude, like he does, that it's not whether you win or lose, but how you play the game.

Freeman makes us all winners by the time we reach the "finish line" of his book!

Though increasing in number (largely thanks to the work of Stanley Cavell, one of the key influences on this new book), legitimately philosophical accounts of film can be hard to come by, and many of those which are available offer either reductive flavors of 'philosophy' or tout the depth of particular films while giving short shrift to the philosophical issues they supposedly address. Against this backdrop, Eyal Peretz, who received a PhD in Comparative Literature from Yale and who is currently teaching at the University of Indiana, has set out for himself the ambitious task of studying a set of films (those of Brian De Palma) while simultaneously remaining soberly philosophical and rigorously attentive to the spirit of the films themselves. This is no simple task, yet Eyal Peretz's 'Becoming Visionary' is, in a single word, a triumph.

'Becoming Visionary' showcases in-depth readings of four particular De Palma films - the horror classic 'Carrie', the Antonioni-homage/thriller 'Blow-Out', the Kirk Douglas sci-fi family drama 'The Fury', and the recent neo-noir 'Femme Fatale' - and relates each of these to specific philosophical and theoretical concerns, including the notion of contingency, the sensation of horror, the relation of visual perception to meaning, and the role of paranoia and visions of false causality in creating narrative. Each of these readings is focused and nuanced, and all give considerable support to Peretz's designation of De Palma as an auteur uniquely sensitive to the uncanny dimensions of his medium. Whereas some might initially dismiss De Palma's work as B-grade or somehow undeserving of thoughtful attention, for Peretz, De Palma's films offer virgin ground for critical inquiry, and enter into philosophical dialogue on equal footing with blue-chip directors like Hitchchock. It is to Peretz's credit that, after reading 'Becoming Visionary', one can only agree with him.

Yet much more is it stake in 'Becoming Visionary' than a reading of a specific set of films, or even an elevation of De Palma's work to a new plane of artistic legitimacy. Peretz instead sets out to create a novel and systematic engagement with the philosophical relevance of cinema itself. Neither philosophy nor film studies suffers in this project: moments like Peretz's synopsis, early on, of the Platonic problematic of ideality versus representation are as lucid and insightful as his survey and critique of different Film Studies accounts of the suture and the frame. At both of these points in particular, a handful of Peretz's pages provides an incredibly sophisticated, clear, and fair take on topics that present several book-length 'introductions' (which you'll find separately shelved under 'Film' and 'Philosophy') a serious one-up in terms of impact, clarity, and analysis. This knack for consistent clarity and precision coexists in 'Becoming Visionary' with an earnest refusal to sidestep complex issues, or to tone down challenging points in Peretz's own analysis. Peretz's willingness to problematize and render more complex the models he suggests - by regularly engaging the idea of a division within the seeing eye, of competing conceptions of the frame, and so forth - is truly impressive, and contributes to construction of a remarkably comprehensive account of film, one that stands solidly alongside the conceptual edifices of Deleuze or Cavell, and which retains a pedagogical forcefulness all its own.

Hopefully, the discussion around 'Becoming Visionary' is just beginning. Peretz's book contains many things - a much-needed scholarly appraisal of a filmmaker often neglected by academics, thoughtful rejoinders and additions to several heated questions in modern film criticism, and a set of elegant reflections that draw in equal parts on Plato, Deleuze, Lacan, and Cavell. But 'Becoming Visionary' is one thing above all others: it is a sustained and effective object lesson in a revolutionary way of reading films philosophically. Indeed, unlike many philosophically inclined writers, who take cinema as simple fodder for analyses in which films instantiate philosophically weighted scenarios and provide merely anecdotal supplements to illustrate philosophical arguments, Peretz proposes and performs a difficult praxis that instead allows films to stage their own, unique way of philosophizing. Benefitting from Peretz's restrained and sensitive guidance, 'Becoming Visionary' shows how films can pose deeply philosophical questions through strategies and devices that, for all their 'filmic' artifice, throw open radically new perspectives on how meaning is constructed, on how we engage our senses - and not just the visual -, and on how we as subjects process representation, narrative, and experience itself. 'Becoming Visionary' is thus a welcome addition to Stanford's Cultural Memory in the Present series, and is a work that students, teachers, and those interested in disciplines from Literature to Cultural Studies to Media & Film alike would do well to read and heed.

Few Americans have seen Muhammad Abderrahman Tazi's films and Kevin Dwyer is an anthropologist. But you needn't be a specialist to find this book fascinating. As Tazi's career is described, readers will also learn a great deal about film making, Morocco's colonial hangover, and the effects of globalization on Third World culture.

Dwyer is well qualified to write about Morocco and its arts. He has spent much of his professional life there and in other North African countries and is now Professor of Anthropology at the American University in Cairo. As demonstrated in this and previous books, he is also well qualified to conduct the interviews on which much of Beyond Casablanca is based. Thoughtful questions and comments put his subjects at ease. There is organization and direction, but we feel we are privy to the conversations of friends -- without the grinding of personal or academic axes.

Foreign film producers often take advantage of Morocco's exotic settings and lower production costs, and so Tazi has worked with Scorsese, Coppola, Huston and others. His credits include "The Last Temptation of Christ", "The Black Stallion Returns" and "The Man Who Would Be King". On the latter, a John Huston film, Tazi assisted with casting, recommended shooting locations and managed portions of the production effort. As he describes his early practical experience we begin to appreciate the logistics of creating a film. Whether in Morocco or Hollywood the basic requirements are the same. Casting, scene location, lighting, shooting sequences, props, continuity, sound mix, camera angles and perspective are some of the elements discussed here.

It's intriguing to hear a director talk about technique. Tazi tells us he tends to shoot from a distance rather than close in. He believes close-ups ruin "objectivity" and intrude on more appropriately private space. It's even more intriguing to learn that early in his career, lacking guide tracks and Steadicams, the director shot from the trunk of a moving car or from a wheelbarrow pushed by an assistant. I won't take the cameraman for granted the next time I watch Indiana Jones tearing away from a mortal threat.

Dwyer knows that the technical problems of a Third World film maker are a good stand-in for the more general challenges faced by ex-colonies. That wheelbarrow is a not so subtle reminder of what they face as they adjust to independence. Dwyer traces Tazi's evolution from wheelbarrow to digital editing, a difficult trip that remains incomplete. The parallel journey from colony to viable independent state is unimaginably more challenging and happy endings are far from given. Physical infrastructure, the economy, and governmental and educational systems must be rethought and made more effective. Pessimism and frustration have many thousands of Moroccans taking to small boats to cross the Mediterranean on dangerous voyages to Spain as illegal immigrants, a problem Tazi highlights in two of his more serious films.

The film maker's career also demonstrates that globalization can add to the woes of a country such as Morocco. It makes digital technology more readily available so it's easier and less expensive for Tazi to create the movie he wants, but at the same time he must now compete with U.S. media giants. Because of the limited number of screens in Morocco and the lack of foreign interest, Moroccan films invariably lose money. That means funding is scarce and only 10 or so films are made each year in spite of strong domestic interest. American films, profitable because of enormously wider distribution, fill much of the vacuum. Over 95% of the movies shown in Morocco are by foreign producers. Analogous problems plague many Third World industries. Proponents, including me, believe globalization will be for the best longer term, but there is increasing recognition that governments must intervene to temper market forces as long as there are huge imbalances in relative strength.

Fighting through the paucity of funding, weak technical support and strong foreign competition, Tazi has produced and directed five feature films. Beyond Casablanca describes the plot and circumstances of production of each in some detail. One of the clearest messages is that he makes movies that tell stories about, as he says, "... what haunts me". That's one of the reasons he is a frequent winner at various international festivals.

I think some American films are terrific and many more are entertaining, but few American directors make films because they have stories to tell about what haunts them. Even the most successful, and therefore independent, check marketing studies before they get very far into a new project. It's a business with big stakes. Film company managements have input and writers tend to come in teams designed to ensure something for everyone. M. A. Tazi on the other hand knows even his most popular films won't breakeven. He makes them because he has to. That's a pretty good definition of being an artist and Beyond Casablanca is well worth reading for its insight into an artist's mind and for the light it sheds on some of today's most difficult and controversial international social and economic issues.

This book is an amazing piece of nostalgia. It is well-written, funny, and provides a great many details about one of America's best-loved shows. The book gives you a real feeling for the atmosphere in which the early situation comedies were produced. It brought back many wonderful memories and I loved it!

A gentle book that leads the reader down pastoral landscapes. Highly recommended for those who seek a simpler outlook on life.

I think this is the best Peckinpah bio. Yes, even better than the excellent "If they move, kill em". Why? First of all, this book gives MUCH better coverage of his non-western films. I happen to think that "The Getaway", "Killer Elite" "Garcia" "Cross of Iron" are great films. These films get very little coverage elsewhere, but our covered in depth here. I also think Fine has a better sense of the man. How drinking, drugs, fighting and chaotic relationships with women hurt him in the end, but were part of his personality, lifestyle and art. It also covers his political and religous beliefs better, showing them grounded in his anti-establishment views. The other bio gives good coverage on the westerns, and is excellent and in depth on "Wild Bunch", but I think this book gives the best view of the non westerns and the man himself. Great read - funny in many parts, and touching and sad.

The title BLUE SKY is from the name of the company. Company director Chris Wedge says that they started out in 1987 with blue-sky ideas. They had big, seemingly impractical plans. But they believed that dreams could come true. They also believed that we're only limited by our imaginations.

Blue Sky studios began in advertising. Their reputation for high quality computer animation and effects drew in big clients, such as Bell Atlantic, Gillette, and Rayovac. In 1992, their TV commercial for Braun had a computer-generated image of an electric razor. It was so well done that even experts didn't know it wasn't the real thing.

The company then got into films. They went on to win an academy award for "Bunny," as the best animated short film in 1998. The film ended up with 25 international awards for excellence in animation. With all this attention, the company, in 1999, became part of 20th Century Fox feature animation. With this kind of money, power and reputation behind them, in 2002 the company released a computer-generated-image feature film, Ice Age.

The book is about animating Ice Age. Peter Weishar starts from building a scene by watercolor sketches, all the way through lighting and live-action. In between, there's modeling of characters and props, for scanning into the computer. There's storyboard drawings of who, where, what for each scene. There's rigging of skeletons inside characters for movement. There's lip syncing speech. There's 3-dimensional layout of all physical sets and movements of camera and characters. There's texture mapping of objects and surfaces. There's special effects, such as geysers and lava. There's making convincing fur for a mammoth, a sabertoothed tiger, and a sloth, as well as self-shadowing hair for a human baby and parents. Whew!

All along the way there are clear explanations, good examples, and telling illustrations. There are also interesting anecdotes about the business, the company, and the film. So it's a fascinating read. It's also a pleasantly easy learning experience, along with the author's DIGITAL SPACE.

Jay Boyer transports us across the lifetime of a gifted director, illustrating the gowth, successes and failures of Bob Rafaelson, while punctuating it with fascinating life details. A scholarly writing with necessary references, yet told in a compelling, human way. I recommend this for anyone, student or afficionado.