Noah Henry Morriss

Danny Boyle’s 2002 film 28 Days Later was rereleased in theaters last week as promotion for the upcoming sequel 28 Years Later. It’d been awhile since I’d seen it last, I remembered enjoying it but not feeling overly enthused by it, but I didn’t have anything to do that night so I went.

It’s fantastic.

Maybe it’s because I saw it in a theater on a big screen. Maybe it’s because I saw it with a large crowd of people who all seemed invested in it. I don’t know what.

But it was fantastic.

It’s a great story, it’s got a great soundtrack, the cast is great… but my favorite element is how it was filmed.

To my knowledge it’s one of the earlier examples of digital filming on a studio picture, especially using digital cameras predominantly for their maneuverability.

There is so much texture to the film. So much noise and movement that gives the grittiness of the story a new meaning. Paired with some really great compositions and movements, it’s something else.

It was shot by Anthony Dod Mantle who worked on a lot of the initial Dogme 95 films which definitely translates over to this film.

The rhythm of the compositions was also notable with the image cutting from these great dolly shots to oddly framed stills at just the right time.

I was reading some reviews on Letterboxd, a mistake, and kept coming across people complaining about the visuals.

Personally I think it was masterfully done. I got a lot of ideas watching it and it was a real treat to experience.

Most of the time when I’m working on a script I really just feel like I’m working with scratch paper. That I’m just noodling around with some ideas and am not actually doing any definite work.

There’s a lot to say that a screenplay is just a blueprint for the film, that it’s an unfinished project until the rest of the pieces come together.

That’s not a great outlook for me as someone who is actually trying to get some work done.

Typing up words onto a script draft really feels like nothing is getting done. There is a constant feeling that things can be so easily changed, the backspace is so easy to press.

Finding ways to make sure that I’m moving forward without the ability to easily move backwards is one of the most important things in my process. If I can linger on something I will, that’s just how I am.

Right now I’m putting together a pitch deck for a project. I’ve done a little brainstorming in terms of story, logline and such, but no writing writing. I’m doing this as an experiment to see if this way will help me define the project before I jump in.

If by creating the pitch first, I might be able to have a better grasp on how to keep moving.

I’ve been working on a new project today and was using some of Blake Snyder’s Save the Cat to try and work some things out.

I’m wasn’t initially a huge fan of the book, it sort of broke down the process in a way that didn’t totally resonate with me. But I do keep coming back to some of its ideas, and I think that’s the point. Each time I revisit it I take something and refashion it to my own uses. Or atleast reexamine it through a lens that I can get behind.

I think that’s really the point of these “self-help/How to do it” type of books. If you look at them long enough you can usually find a way to make them work for you, whether or not that was the author’s intent or not.

For context, I was using the book to try and improve the logline for the story I’m working on.

I’ve been trying to get better at noticing when I’m stalling on a project. Noticing when I’m “trying” to move forward, but am just doing the same old things that haven’t been working.

It’s easy to fall into this trap. To really believe that your chipping away at something when you’re just sort of wandering around kicking a can about.

This blog post by Wait But Why gets to the point pretty quickly.

Basically, specificity is key. If you can be specific in defining the type of thing you’re trying to do, you’ll figure out a way to get there.

Also, just asking yourself if your moving in a purposeful direction can be a great way to reorient yourself.

This is the character list for John Carpenter’s The Thing. It opens the script.

The screenplay was written by Bill Lancaster who only wrote a couple of things to my knowledge. That’s a shame because I think the script for this movie is perfect.

I love this character list, it’s got such a pop to it. The descriptions being so terse and brief give it a weird dread feeling. Like reading an obituary.

And in terms of character, really these descriptions are all that are needed. They give it all. You can read one of them and instantly get a strong feeling for the character. What a great jumping off point.

This is one of those things that’s never exactly seen on screen, it’s something to help the actors, the production, the general atmosphere of the story. It heightens everything, clarifying some of the broader character decisions perhaps, in a very simple, direct fashion.

It’s a great example of simple communication. The characters are defined in as few words as possible, and it still works.

Sometimes you don’t even realize that the way you are operating is actually making things more of a challenge than they need to be.

The short films that I’ve been producing with my buddy through our production company have been going great. We’ve got no budget but we have some equipment and the drive to make some cool stuff.

Yesterday some footage got shot with our camera during the day on a beach and it looked great! The sunlight made everything look incredibly crisp and it was very impressive.

I then realized that a majority of our projects had been shot either at night or in a poorly lit room, and while they look good… they don’t look quite as sharp as these images.

One of the major elements of equipment that we don’t really have access to is good lights, so we improvise and use lamps. This is usually a challenge, non-professional lamps don’t quite give off enough light and can’t be directed as well as professional setups.

We’ve managed to make it work so far, but it’s been a headache sometimes, and I’m realizing this could all be circumnavigated by avoiding the whole conflict.

If we shot during the day, we wouldn’t really have to worry about light, not really. And then we could always achieve that level of sharpness that we’re looking for.

It’s silly because it seems that we aligned exactly with the one thing that could cause problems. It’s sort of that “Don’t think about a pink elephant” type of thing.

Anyway, try and recognize how you’re making things more difficult for yourself. The absentminded self-sabotage.