the corridor scene

It’s done ! And I’m probably not going back to it afterwards ! (the keyword here is probably xD) I’m pretty proud of it too (notice the xenomorph goop and vapor coming from the vent and landing in front of the door, and the blood :3)

Molly's theme

When I watched S3 for the second time, I was very surprised and very pleased to discover that my beloved Molly had been given a theme in the already beautiful Sherlock soundtrack.
You can listen to it in two scenes of The Empty Hearse: the one in which Sherlock asks her out to solve crimes and the “kiss in the corridor” scene.
I’m not an expert in TV shows’ structure/features/subtext etc. but I do find this choice incredibly interesting: Molly was not even meant to be in the show, yet she has her own theme. Is her importance going to increase in S4?
I’m also intrigued by the kind of music they chose for her: it’s soft, delicate but kind of angsty.
My dear Sherlollians, what do you think about it?

anonymous asked:

I´m so sick of people still defending Amelia. I always used to defend her actions and justify them with her past, but after the corridor scene I´m done with her. Calling Owen a bully, telling him he doesn´t have a right on an opinion, that he was suffocating her even using his trauma with Cristina against him in front of the entire hospital staff, I don´t think I´ve ever been so disgusted by a character

I can see why people are disappointed with her, I am too because even though I know the amount of pain she’s in, I didn’t expect her to go that low. Owen isn’t a saint either, but Amelia blew this out of proportion. I think her reaction was proportional to her pain, really. I am not saying she is right, I am saying I understand it. And I hope she calms down enough to reflect about everything and hopefully come around. 


In the corridor of the maple by max max
Via Flickr:
How about? This scene! This state is the reason called the corridor of the maple

Video Editing

 This conversation happens to me all the time:

“What do you do?”

“Oh, I’m an editor.”

“Oh so like you were an English major?”

“No, I mean a video editor. Like I edit movies.”

“Oh that’s cool.”

And then a blank stare as I try and explain what it is I do.

Most people know what video editing is, or at least have a vague idea that it exists, but don’t really know what it entails.

I used to do this exercise every time I got a new batch of editing students: I show clips of three different types of editing (the corridor scene from Oldboy, the hallway scene from Daredevil (2015), and the elevator scene from The Winter Soldier) and I tell students to tell me how many cuts there are in each scene. 

With Oldboy I’m kind of cheating, because the whole point of that scene is that there are no cuts. What makes it brilliant is that it’s one, long 3 minute scene. It’s not the editing that’s remarkable about this scene, it’s the choreography, the camera movements, the lighting, and all of them somehow working together so that not a single cut was needed.

With Daredevil it’s a bit different. The point of editing is that it’s the invisible art; the less you notice it’s existence the better the editor is. Even when I point out to my students where the edits are they sometimes still can’t see them (and, to be fair, I’ve watched this scene now more times than I can count, and even I’m just using my experiences to guess and there’s a good chance that I might be wrong on a couple of them). The point is that it’s supposed to seem like it’s one continuous shot, but it’s not: there are several places where either they did cut or they at least could have to give their camera crew and actors more room for error. In a scene like this, you look for any instance of the picture going completely black, even if it’s just for half a second (in film editing, a second is actually a very long time because we work in increments of frames and there are largely 24 or 30 frames in one second but that number can go up to 60 and can get to 240 if you’re working in slow-motion).

The Winter Soldier is always where I get them. I ask them to count how many cuts there are in just the fight scene. I’ve gotten 10, 15, 5…one bold student in his first day said none. The closest was a student who guessed 50. 

There are upwards of 80 cuts in just the fight scene alone that lasts about a minute (starting at 1:50 in the video and ending at about 2:50). On average, they last half a second, with the longest being when Brock Rumlow (Frank Grillo) says that “this isn’t personal” because it’s a break in the action that’s amping up the stakes. 

That’s editing. It completely changes depending on the movie, the mood, the genre, the director, the editor…there’s a line I’ve written on the board in my office, “Writers manipulate characters. Editors manipulate audiences.” Every time you are tense in your seat in the theater, every time you’re crying at a characters reaction, every time you find out something new with the plot that didn’t have to be explained and just shown, that was all us.

Recently, a lot of people have been paying more attention to editing, thanks to Margaret Sixel (Mad Max: Fury Road) and more and more people realising that the reason the original Star Wars trilogy is so great is because of the brilliant work of Marcia Lucas. In this spirit, I wanted to start a blog that highlights different aspects of Post Production (or aspects of Production that end up helping Post Production) so that even more people can understand the kind of work that goes into a movie long after the cameras have stopped rolling.

So next time you’re in the theater, look at who the editor is, take down their name, remember them. They deserve it.


Behind the scenes of The Girl in the Fireplace (Part Two)

Excerpts from Benjamin Cook’s behind-the-scenes article in DWM #370

The horse will be filmed in a studio next week - so not to get hoof prints on the black-and-white chequered floor in the Great Hall - and the visual effects bods will add him into the scene in post-production.  This means that David has to engage in the embarrassing art of mime…

“Neigh,” he deadpans, as he gallops around the Great Hall on a strange scaffolding contraption.  To be honest, he looks a bit silly.  He admits later that he isn’t looking forward to meeting the real horse next week.  “I’m allergic to horses,” he sighs.  “I’m going to be standing as far away from it as I can.”


The spaceship set is redressed as a different stretch of corridor, for the scene in which Rose and Mickey are overpowered by two clockwork droids.

Ominously, this is shot 666.  Some wag has drawn a pair of horns on the clapperboard, which is unnerving Billie.  “I hate those devil things,” she cringes.

While no one is looking, David commandeers a camera.  “C'mon, rock and roll!” he enthuses.  “Good shot, David!”

“Shall we go for a take?” says Peter Bennett, as a gaffer drags David away from the camera.


The Doctor appears in the corridor, with Arthur in tow, and stares through the stone door.  He tells Arthur not to wander off. 

“Let’s go for a take,” calls Peter, “but this time can we not say A-C-T-I-O-N?”

Arthur - who’s actually quite an experienced thesp - recognises the word ‘action’, and gets a bit over-eager as a result.  Throughout the take, Arthur’s handler lies on the floor, coaxing him.

“We friends now?” David asks Arthur.  “Yeah, you bet we are!”

On the next shot, Euros suggests filming the rehearsal too.  “It might do something interesting,” shrugs Euros referring to the horse, “like sing!”

“Ten green bottles…” mumbles David.

But there’s hope for Arthur yet.  On the final take, he gives David an impromptu melancholy nudge when asked not to wander off.  It wasn’t in the script, and it wasn’t planned, but David reacts, and Euros is delighted.

“And… cut!” he says, before adding:  “Good horse!  What a marvelous take!”

Other parts of this set are available here: [ one ] [ two ] [ three ] [ four ]
Other behind-the-scenes photosets here ]