Context

So hey, a few days ago a somewhat significant milestone was reached. Finally took the various pieces of That Thing and put them together, creating something that vaguely resembles a movie. Still a few holes that I'm aiming on putting some plaster over in the next few days, but the large majoritity is there. Hooray for me.

This rough cut is significant for a few reasons. The obvious one being that it signifies that this project is actually nearing completion, or at least something I can show a few folks and start getting feedback on instead of living in a void of solitude. Eventually you hit that point where you're not sure if that joke you wrote a few years ago and have scrubbed through dozens of times while editing even makes sense anymore, it'll be nice to see if those points of interest garner any sort of reaction from fresh sets of eyes. I can actually show this to a few friends without pausing every few minutes and feebly explaining why the timing's off or why this shot is too long or what some slug is filling in the space of. Not having to verbally run through the convoluted order of the scenes and watch as their eyes glaze over in confusion should be nice.

Speaking of which, the other reason I'm happy that I'm holding a quickly encoded copy of the whole thing in my hand is because I get to pop it into a DVD player and watch it. Away from the uncomfortable chair sitting in front of a computer monitor. No keyboard with a space-bar constantly tempting me to stop and quickly adjust this or that. I get to watch all these scenes in context and start looking at the bigger picture. Context. Already, starting to notice that scenes that seemed fine by themselves are way too long in their current states, when sandwiched between two other scenes. Because of that context now I could figure out that this could go there, could probably chop that in half and move another scene earlier to compensate and... that probably sounds really vague but you get the idea.

Most important I think, I'm finally beginning to see the waves. The delicate nuances of pacing that could make or break this movie. Over this last summer I found a really cool spot somewhere in Manhattan, stone steps that lead straight into the Hudson river without a fence or anything stopping anyone from jumping or falling in. A nice quiet spot where one could just pull out a notebook and scribble shit down and not be bothered. A great view of the sunset fading out and better yet, the sunset after the sunset. You know, where the sky and clouds turns into crazy colors and you sit in awe of what nature is capable of. Wearing headphones, as I tend to do, almost feels blasphemous there, it felt wonderful to just bask in the quiet, the only noise being the waves crashing against these steps. On nice windy evenings I'd just take off my shoes and soak in those waves.

Sometimes it was disappointing to see a very calm day, where the water wouldn't even rise above that first step, that's no fun. Sometimes those waves would become so fierce as to punch me in the face without my seeing it coming, and dousing my clothing in the process. Walking home with a wet shirt and socks ain't much fun. But on those good days where that river would mix it up, where I could sit in that serenity and become lost in various thoughts were always good days.

Or maybe this was just a labored and really shitty metaphor, got carried away. Sorry about that. But yes, with the context of seeing these scenes side by side, now I have to figure out how to take this flick through its highs and lows, the serious and funny parts, the crashing waves and reflective stillness, all without losing that delicate attention of the audience.