”We use examples from classic and modern cinema to illustrate points for filmmakers about how things work,” Explains David K. Irving. “The best thing to do is find movies that themselves work. There are a bunch of classic films that we often refer to for filmmakers to study. Every great filmmaker constantly looks at films over and over again in order to see what got them excited about cinema and what works for them.”

One of the great films in cinema that Irving always encourage students to look at is Carol Rice’s film The Third Man. The Third Man is a fantastic film because the script is so tight. It’s a wonderful story that takes place in war-torn Vienna. The allies have divided the city into four distinct areas, so there’s a lot of illegal trade going on.

“What’s beautiful about the film is that Joseph Cotten comes to Vienna to find his friend Harry Lime, whom we talk about through the entire film. He’s talked about, talked about, talked about. He’s the third man, and we don’t reveal him until very, very late into the film. The arc of the story where we’re trying to find out who this third man is, who the third man finally gets revealed to be, and the twist on why the third man isn’t this wonderful character, which was cast as Orson Welles because he’s such a jolly fellow to play against type. It made for a wonderful arc in the film,” Irving says.

There are so many things about the film that are worth pointing out. One is that the final chase sequence takes place in a sewer. What better location to have a character who’s really displayed as a rat than in a sewer? The reason Irving likes to show this particular sequence is it’s a long chase sequence, but the director does such a wonderful job creating pace in this chase.

There are fast sequences, slow sequences, close-ups, long shots, breathing space, up, down. It has a rhythm that can’t be beat, and all of it takes place in the sewer. One of the other advantages of shooting in a sewer is that the camera gets this wonderful forced perspective down these long tunnels. At the end of the sequence, the character trying to escape the tunnel brings his finger up through a sewer grating, and the close-up of the hands trying to escape speaks volumes about the character.

Another scene Irving likes to show from the film when Harry Lime is revealed for the first time. Harry Lime is revealed through light. He’s hiding in a doorway. An inebriated Joseph Cotten is yelling at this character who he doesn’t know is in the doorway.

His yelling at night causes a woman on the second floor to turn her bedroom light on, which shines light down on Harry Lime. At that moment, Joseph Cotten knows that’s the main character. The use of cinematography and lighting to be able to illuminate character is very exciting for filmmakers to study, so you can apply these lessons that you learn from historical references in film, modern references in film, and what you’re going to do when you become a filmmaker.

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Thinking of the magic and beauty of early filmmakers, it’s like they were pioneers. They were creating the technology while capturing their stories! And they were fearless because it was an untapped territory.

The limitation of black and white film? Let me tell you: art, creativity, and film are all created within constraints. It’s these bounds that help up create, not hinder us.

In this black and white medium, filmmakers had to think about lighting differently. Their lives were (obviously) in color, but their equipment only shot black and white. Everything is going to appear different.

Let’s say I’m wearing a blue jacket and a yellow shirt. In black and white? All you see is shades of grey, no actual pigmentation.

Now, you can control the lighting and create slits and angles. By controlling light and shadows, you can make an image look more interesting. In some of the earliest films, you can see when filmmakers started understanding this dynamic.

For example, the first iterations of Dracula and Nosferatu were scarier, all thanks to careful lighting. You can see how they can make a room look vast or small by collapsing the space with an entirely black background. You can see how they could paint something on a wall and make it look like it was miles and miles away. Because they were only working in black and white, its limitations were liberating.

Particularly in the silent era, when filmmakers didn’t have to think about sound or color, they got incredibly innovative just focusing on the visual image. There’s a saying that people forgot to be cinematic again as soon as sound came into film. These early black and white filmmakers led the charge for what was possible in cinema.

It wasn’t until I saw a particular film that I had a different respect for black and white. The original Imitation of Life (1934) was a black and white film that was risque, intense, and complicated. It was deep. It was heavy.

Here you have a Black woman and a white woman working together to start a business. There were some complicated tensions, both racially and in the relationship between the characters.

But for what it was — a story about two women, with no men, building a life together — it was magical. Seeing a film like that? It was about the story.

Janet Grillo thinks that the relationship between visual storytelling art and technology is integral. The technology informs the art. The art informs the technology.
“Think for a minute about the evolution of movies,” says Janet. Back in the day, they used very big, clunky, huge cameras. You couldn’t move them very quickly. You couldn’t move them in the space. You had to position them in one spot and construct an environment to capture the imagery and the sound around it, explains Janet.
You would have created a soundstage. The environment, the lighting, and the sound could all be controlled. And you had this monstrous piece of equipment flat in the middle.
Janet says soundstages dictated the way that stories were told. You had very formal settings. You were basically moving from theater into film, so film was highly theatrical. The film tradition came from a spoken, executed tradition of the theater and the theater’s proscenium arch stage, in Janet’s view.
You can see that in the very stylized work of Alfred Hitchcock. He grew up in that system of studio filmmaking where it’s highly formal and very structured, Janet notes. And you can see it in how the actors are moving in and out of the frame and their movements are blocked. It’s almost like a stage play.
This is an excerpt from the Alfred Hitchcock film Vertigo (1958) which demonstrates Hitchcock’s theatrical style of filmmaking:
GALVIN ELSTER: I asked you to come up here Scottie, knowing that you’d quit detective work. But I wondered whether you would go back on the job as a special favor to me. I want you to follow my wife. No, it’s not that. We’re very happily married.
SCOTTIE FERGUSON: Well, then-
GALVIN ELSTER: I’m afraid some harm may come to her.
SCOTTIE FERGUSON: From whom?
GALVIN ELSTER: Someone dead.
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To understand the process behind creating and filming episodic television, director Harry Winer had to see the “rhythm” behind it.

“What happens is that directors are hired on a week-to-week basis. You come in and direct one episode. You leave. Another director comes in and directs an episode.” Winer says. “For a television series that goes on for years, the actors themselves are the ones that are running the show because they know their characters.”

When Winer came into doing his first TV series, Hart to Hart, he had no idea how television worked, so he treated it as if he was making a movie: “I go in and start setting up these elaborate shots.”

“So I get called into Leonard Goldberg’s office [at 20th Century Fox], and I’m sort of intimidated,” Winer recalls. “And he says to me, thank you. You directed a beautiful movie, and maybe one day we’ll get a chance to actually make a movie together. But right now I’d like you to direct Hart to Hart.”

That was one of Winer’s biggest moments of education. “I had no idea what he was talking about,” Winer says, “but subsequently came to learn that in that era, episodic television was a product.”

There is a standardization of the product — of television — and there are certain rhythms and ways in which a series is filmed that is the emblematic style of that particular episode. And subsequently when I recognized that, I started playing ball and would make several more Hart to Harts.

After directing his seventh episode of Hart to Hart, Winer realized that it was indistinguishable from every other episode of Hart to Hart. “That was the goal that they had set for me to achieve.”

That led him to discover an important lesson in the TV industry. “I realized that in serious television, there was a choice of being a really good series television director and implementing the style that others had created versus sharpening my skills of original creativity that originating a television series would allow.”

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The lexicon of filmmaking started with editing, according to Alrick Brown. “In the early 1900s, this film thing became real,” Alrick says. “And after people started telling some amazing stories, the next big innovation was editing.”

Over time, editing evolved and became more complex. The camera did more than just capture a movement. “So now we’re like ‘What if you did this? What happens if the camera starts to move?’” explains Alrick.

From the first filmmakers to DW Griffith, cameras did what Alrick calls “magical things.” Audiences experienced film in ways they had never experienced it before.

These early editing techniques began building off of each other, and the techniques came from all over the world. “My film education was focused on what was going on in America,” explains Alrick, “but film really was going on around the world.”

Filmmakers borrowed from each other. DW Griffith, for example, watched films from Germany. Einstein’s early audiences used some of his editing techniques.

“There was this communication across cultures from Latin America to Europe, where people were telling their stories. These things evolved into the techniques you would later see in the earliest Hollywood films,” says Alrick.

DW Griffith built his techniques from things he had learned from around the world. “It’s the same way a student would make a film today,” Alrick points out. “A lot of their approaches will come from things they’ve already watched and experienced.”

Film students aren’t the only ones who use this approach. Directors like Tarantino and Scorsese have spent their careers studying other filmmakers.

“We call them geniuses,” says Alrick. “And some of them deserve that title, but it’s because they’ve spent so much time looking at the history of film. They understand what techniques to keep and what techniques to throw away.”

Compared to other art forms, film is a new medium. “Filmmakers had to lean on other art forms for inspiration,” says Alrick. “So they looked at other forms of communication to build this lexicon that would become filmmaking.”

In the late 1940s to 1950s, this thing called television invaded people’s homes, Alrick Brown comments. Film, on the other hand, went from this visual thing that eventually got sound. He says, “people were in their homes listening to radios and getting sound. Imagine what happened when a box came into your home, where an image was broadcast, and you could actually see pictures and people.”
Alrick thinks that television has evolved a lot. But he wants you to understand why TV was built as it tells you a lot about what television is today. At its core, TV was built to sell coffee, knives, vacuum cleaners, and whatever the American housewife needed in the 1950s. If they could just have commercials, that’s what TV would be, Alrick says.
They created television shows as sponsorships, as a part of selling these products. “And so this magical, wonderful thing that we call television, that we consume so much and shapes our understanding of the world, was created to sell products.”
Harry Winer thinks that television had a glorious introduction. Initially, it was film theater. In the 1950s, they were trying to figure out ways to capture an audience once they had this wonderful new tool.
They would take vaudeville comedians and other stand-up comedians and put them up for variety shows, Harry says. They tried to create legitimate storytelling. They would take plays that had been successful on Broadway, or that were part of the American theatrical canon, and stage them for TV.
Harry notes that this is where many directors of a previous generation to his own cut their teeth. For example, John Frankenheimer, Sidney Lumet, and a host of others went on to become wonderful filmmakers. They took that understanding of the medium and found new ways of using imagery within a very tight budget and tight time frame in order to tell stories.
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The film movements were happening, and they were informing one another. A young American filmmaker who saw Godard’s work for the first time would get excited because Godard is playing with time in a way no one else had played with it.

Melvin van Peebles made independent, experimental films in the US. Then he studied and made films in France. Van Peebles was influenced by the French New Wave. He was influenced by all of those films that he saw, but he was equally influenced by what he didn’t see. Later, he became one of the first Black filmmakers to get a deal with Hollywood, along with Gordon Parks and Ossie Davis. They were the first three black filmmakers to be given an opportunity to make films in Hollywood. Hollywood needed some token people. And so they brought these three black filmmakers in, during the late ’60s and early ’70s.

These filmmakers were going to the cinema and seeing racist images that mirrored and impacted how they grew up. They wanted to change those images. They wanted to show people that there was more to the Black community than what Hollywood was representing.

In 1972, Melvin van Peebles stepped away from his Hollywood deal and made Sweet Sweetback’s Baadasssss Song. In doing so, he shook up the system. It was one of the first times a person used their own money to make an independent film. His film showed police brutality and a black man taking his handcuffs and beating a police officer to death.

Given the history of film that had been created before 1972 and how the Black community was portrayed in those films, van Peebles crew was left divided. Some were not happy seeing that type of imagery. Yet these were filmmakers who were subverting Hollywood because they knew that there wasn’t a place for them. Eventually, Sweetback was a success.

That movie made money. People wanted to see the movie where this black man kills a cop, and runs away, and gets away with it, and the community protects and saves him. Audiences were eating that up.

What did Hollywood do? They saw an opportunity. Shortly after Sweetback was released, the blaxploitation movement began. Hollywood saw a way to make money off of stories where there was a protagonist who was black. For example, the initial Shaft character was written for a white man. It wasn’t until the success with Sweetback that they adjusted it, and the film was made with Richard Roundtree in the lead role.

In the 1950s and ‘60s, there were three television networks: ABC, CBS, and NBC. In the 1970s, Fox became the fourth network and changed the way in which the first three networks approached their business. There was more competition.

During that whole period of time—the 1960s to the 1970s– there was a certain kind of programmatic approach to content production. The networks saw what content worked and wanted to replicate it in everything they created. That was their product.

For example, they had a certain story to tell. They would cast a couple of stars and add a few particulars. They wanted to see the exact same story week after week, so audiences knew exactly what to expect when they tune in the next week.

Moving into the 1970s, content production fell under the auspices of the financial and syndication rule, where individual studios and individual producers were able to own their own product. There was an array of product that was available. But there wasn’t a tremendous amount of competition. Only certain buyers from the four networks were seeking out content.

In 1993, the financial and syndication rule was withdrawn. Networks were able to create and own their own product. Over the next few years, the networks started acquiring or creating production companies where they could then produce their own product. The networks understood that if they were producing the content, they would then not have to pay an independent producer for their creative efforts.

It was far more financially lucrative for the networks to be able to create their own production companies. They’d be able to keep the all money in the same loop, robbing the right pocket and putting it in the left pocket.

“The 1930s and 1940s were kind of the heyday of the American studio system. It was the heyday of Japanese filmmaking—many amazing filmmakers were doing so much work; however, the studio systems were still being established. And when Alrick Brown says the system, he means these things are built to just create and crank out stories. So, filmmakers became adept in storytelling because they had to constantly kick out stories,” Brown explains.
These were the filmmakers Brown first watched—Hitchcock, Orson Welles, they all came from that system. Brown continues, “Filmmakers like Ozu and Kurosawa also started their careers. It’s when I started seeing films that came before them; it was Buster Keaton, and it was Charlie Chaplin.”
Now, this new generation of filmmakers who grew up watching Keaton and Chaplin were making films. But these filmmakers functioned more independently and had a system that supported them.
Brown explains, “Films were often made while being written in these studio systems because they were just cranking out material. They put stars under contract—you are under contract; you made a certain number of films. They put directors and producers under contract.”
“And so, it was a film studio—with filmmaking machines. And in that machine system, some people were excluded. A lot of stories were excluded, as well as a lot of people who weren’t included in that part of the journey. European filmmakers who grew up on some of these American films, and were like, that’s not about them,” says Brown.
There were formulas to filmmaking. You had to believe that the French New Wave had some filmmakers trying more innovative things, that they were looking at the formulaic approach to some of the romance films that were coming out of Hollywood.
“Film noir was another popular genre in the 1930s and 1940s. This genre focuses intensely on a particular style or look. Film noir was a genre that had certain conventions it practiced. The audience always knew who the hero and villain were. They knew who the femme fatale was. This formulaic type of filmmaking, although entertaining for the masses, bred populations of filmmakers who thought of doing something different. They forgot about the narrative in the same way,” Brown states.
Brown further explains, “The filmmakers thought to loosen up the storytelling just a bit, where they were not going have this person be the hero, but instead, make them kind of a haunted hero, particularly after the war when many men came back with ailments from the war.”

The film industry evolved significantly over the last century, from more theatrical presentations to more avant-garde Russian montages, to the advent of color, wide-screen, and now VR. The only way to move forward is to communicate thoughts or interpret those thoughts by looking to the past. From there, sometimes inspiration for something new comes.
Immersive VR Films – Emotional Journeys
Alfonso Gomez-Rejon describes an experience in which he felt like he saw something brand new. “Few years ago, I saw Carne y Arena,” Gomez-Rejon says, “which was Iñárritu’s VR short that was played at the Los Angeles County Museum of Art. And for the first time in I don’t know how long, almost like you saw the future.” The highly immersive piece takes the viewer on an emotional journey far different from the movie and documentary experience. Immersive pieces like Carne y Arena and Edison’s Black Maria take viewers on a journey to feel what they’re feeling innovatively and emotionally.
For Gomez-Rejon, Carne y Asada was an eye-opener. The invigorating method of storytelling is a true testament to the future of the film industry.
Multi-Dimensional Storytelling
Many consider projecting movies as the purist way of expressing stories to the world. But then, there are also ways online or streaming where you could spider web into short films that explore other characters or subplots that didn’t make the final cut. As one can see, there are various ways to tell a story. It is this Mobius strip of infinite possibilities and shapes.
There’s something about staying current that is always humbling and invigorating instead of feeling that you’re stuck in the past. But hopefully, it makes you want to work a little harder and keep moving with it and the chance of expressing yourself and reaching more and more people.