This is a re-broadcast from September 20, 2015. 2015. Christopher Kenworthy's book, Shoot Like Tarantino, Shoot Like Scorsese, and Shoot Like Spielberg are currently available from Michael Wiese Productions. This interview now honors the 40-year anniversary of one of Martin Scorsese's landmark accomplishments, Taxi Driver.
Dave Watson: What started the Shoot Like series?
Christopher Kenworthy: When you look at the master directors, it’s impossible to watch their films without seeing their talent. The good news for us is that we can learn from that talent. Although they may be gifted, they have all developed a set of techniques that makes it easier for them to produce great work, and these techniques are alarmingly simple. By balancing actor movement with camera movement, each director achieves the exact effect they want. You don’t need a big budget, you just need to learn a new way of seeing. I wanted to get that across to readers, so this book series was born. I was impressed by the way directors use camera moves to convey meaning. They aren’t just doing a flashy move for the sake of it. Everything is there to help bring out the story. Imagine having these brilliant directors by your side, mentoring you. You’ll see new ways of mining the most meaning from a shot, and you’ll develop your own style.
DW: And a picture says a thousand words. These three directors, Steven Spielberg, Martin Scorsese, and Quentin Tarantino, have been around for decades now. Was it hard to focus on certain scenes in their work?
CK: The only way to write these books was to watch every film by each director. Once I’d chosen the most effective films I had to watch those films three times, usually with the sound down, to recognize the visual patterns. Although you might think that each director uses hundred and hundreds of techniques, they usually have ten main techniques and shoot conventionally the rest of the time. Once I’d recognized the techniques it was quite easy to select shots and scenes that demonstrated the effects. You can tell a good scene when it works without sound. Just about all the films I used in these books would work as silent movies. Even though there’s great dialogue, you could watch these films and know what was going on without hearing a word that was being said. That’s why I focused on these older directors. Many young directors rely on huge budgets and flashy visuals to carry them, and to cover for their lack of talent. If you’re a new director, it’s better to look at great directors who’ve been around for decades. All of them are still creating good work, from time to time.
DW: Which director came to you first? Why?
CK: I wrote a list of the directors that I love and then whittled it down to twelve. Tarantino was a recent addition to the list, because I’d enjoyed Inglourious Basterds, but wasn’t a huge fan otherwise. He was the first one I chose, because when I watched his films there was an unbelievable efficiency to his work. There’s nothing lazy about his shots, and everything is there for a reason. He’s gained a reputation for stealing his shots from other movies, but I think that’s such a tired cliché now, because when you see how he controls the geography of a scene, and how he conveys meaning, you realize he’s in complete control of the image and its effect. So he was the first, because I started out feeling lukewarm toward his work, and then saw that every filmmaker could learn from his work, whether they like this films or not. I wish Zack Snyder would watch some Tarantino and stop filling his screen with pointless movement.
DW: With Spielberg, you choose parts of his work that may not necessarily stand out to audiences, as in one of his lesser appreciated films, Empire of the Sun. Was it hard to find themes in his unheralded films?
CK: Many write Spielberg off as a sentimental fool. Filmmakers generally know that he’s a lens master, but the public regard him as sugary and predictable, even though his films have been outrageously popular. And the truth is that he’s made a lot of bad films, so I looked to the films that appeared to be made with passion; the films he cared about so much that he used every skill he could to get his meaning across. Empire of The Sun was popular in its day, and every shot is memorable. There’s no dead screen time in that film. Every single shot is set up more beautifully and skillfully than most directors could ever manage. Films such as Jaws are brilliant when he works with people. It’s not the shark stuff that’s impressive, but the way he films human interaction.
DW: With Scorsese, one section is titled Contrasting Motion, and he’s known for moving the camera all the way back to Mean Streets and Who’s That Knocking at my Door? One theme, though, Revealing the Villain, I didn’t notice at first. How did this come about?
CK: I realized that Scorsese is a very practical filmmaker. If he can get away with a conventional shot, or even a TV-style scene, he’ll shoot it that way to save time. When it comes to scenes that need to have more emotional impact, or more meaning, he uses all his skills to make sure that every details counts towards the storytelling. Given his reputation, I was surprised. I thought every shot would be a winner, but he only pulls out the big guns when he has to. Revealing The Villain was a chapter that impressed me because he’s using repetition and memory to create expectation, and then he breaks that. It’s a really important technique, because the villain is revealed early on in the film, but then has to be reintroduced half way through. Without a clever technique like this, Jack Nicholson’s appearance would be dull. As it is, a couple of simple camera moves make it tense and frightening. As with most of the shots in this book, you don’t need fancy equipment. You can achieve most of the effects with simple pans and tilts. Sometimes you need dollies and cranes, but most of the time it’s about knowing how to use actors and a camera within a space.
DW: Tarantino appears to know how to set up scenes, even entire movies. In your book on Tarantino, you discuss the opening shots of Inglorious Basterds, he works subtly and you dissect it shot by shot. This is why I think your book is so important as he always has the audience in mind. Do you think he’s recognized for this?
CK: I tried not to read anything about these directors while working on the books, because I didn’t want to know what people were saying. But I gather that it’s seen as cool to write Tarantino off as violent, indulgent and shallow. He’s anything but. I don’t know what motivates him to make films, but he clearly loves films, and he wants the audience to enjoy them and experience unforgettable emotions. Too many directors miss this point. They aim to thrill, but you leave the cinema with a belly full of popcorn and a withered heart.
DW: Is there a director you could add to the Shoot Like series? Is there one working today you could analyze in this series?
CK: There are many, but it is difficult to know what’s going to be useful to people. I’d be tempted to write Shoot Like Lynch, because every film student tries to be like Lynch at some point and the result is usually an embarrassing mess. That’s because people think Lynch is shooting weirdness for the sake of weirdness, so they copy the weirdness. What they’re missing is that he can, at times, use the camera in ways that clarify story. There are many popular directors that I don’t think are worthy of inclusion, because a lot of what’s being shot today is nothing more than excessive movement. I really can’t bear to watch another city falling down while people whiz around fighting.
DW: My last question is really a three-part question. What are your favorite cinematic moments, most inspiring, memorable, of Spielberg’s films?
CK: The scene from Schindler’s List that I cover in the chapter called Depth Staging. It’s a dreadful scene, in which a Jewish worker ends up getting shot. What stuns me about this scene is that with the simplest of dolly moves and a single pan, Spielberg create a long, tense scene that’s rich with complexity and complex power shifts, as well as revealing the intensity of the actors’ performances. When you remember that scene, you think it was shot with several cameras. It was shot with one, in a single take; not to be flashy and impressive, but to raise the tension, hold it, and then break it with devastating effect.
Clip: Schindler’s List
DW: And Scorsese?
CK: The scene in Taxi Driver where De Niro storms into the newspaper office. It’s the first time he cracks, and you’d think the scene is impressive because of the acting, but the camerawork is so clever and subtle that the scene would not have worked if it was shot more conventionally.
Clip: Taxi Driver
DW: From your book, cutting back and forth from points of view and framing also work in this scene. Would you agree?
CK: Absolutely. At this point in the film you’re still not sure whether you’re watching a hero or anti-hero, but the cuts and viewpoint shifts make you sense that certainty is being eroded.
DW: I'm not sure if you see this kind of drawn-out technique much these days. Do you?
CK: It’s rare for scenes to be worked for this long, in modern films, but it does still happen. You need a combination of a good script, good actors, and a director who can film the scene in a way that gets the most out of both. It’s much easier to keep scenes short, but then you lose the opportunity to build tension and discomfort over the course of a few minutes.
DW: And Tarantino.
CK: The scene in the bar, from Inglorious Basterds, where the allies try to maintain their cover in the face of subtle Nazi interrogation. Again, this is a scene that people note for its writing and for the performances, but people miss the exceptionally ingenious use of camera moves to keep the tension rising.
Clip: Inglorious Basterds
DW: You also discus editing, when Tarantino cuts, as in this scene. How does that help build and sustain tension?
CK: Cutting is used to tease the audience. Sometimes you’re longing for a cut, to relieve the tension and there is no cut. At other times, you want to see a development continue, but instead there’s a cut to an unwanted person, expression or movement.
Dave Watson: What started the Shoot Like series?
Christopher Kenworthy: When you look at the master directors, it’s impossible to watch their films without seeing their talent. The good news for us is that we can learn from that talent. Although they may be gifted, they have all developed a set of techniques that makes it easier for them to produce great work, and these techniques are alarmingly simple. By balancing actor movement with camera movement, each director achieves the exact effect they want. You don’t need a big budget, you just need to learn a new way of seeing. I wanted to get that across to readers, so this book series was born. I was impressed by the way directors use camera moves to convey meaning. They aren’t just doing a flashy move for the sake of it. Everything is there to help bring out the story. Imagine having these brilliant directors by your side, mentoring you. You’ll see new ways of mining the most meaning from a shot, and you’ll develop your own style.
DW: And a picture says a thousand words. These three directors, Steven Spielberg, Martin Scorsese, and Quentin Tarantino, have been around for decades now. Was it hard to focus on certain scenes in their work?
CK: The only way to write these books was to watch every film by each director. Once I’d chosen the most effective films I had to watch those films three times, usually with the sound down, to recognize the visual patterns. Although you might think that each director uses hundred and hundreds of techniques, they usually have ten main techniques and shoot conventionally the rest of the time. Once I’d recognized the techniques it was quite easy to select shots and scenes that demonstrated the effects. You can tell a good scene when it works without sound. Just about all the films I used in these books would work as silent movies. Even though there’s great dialogue, you could watch these films and know what was going on without hearing a word that was being said. That’s why I focused on these older directors. Many young directors rely on huge budgets and flashy visuals to carry them, and to cover for their lack of talent. If you’re a new director, it’s better to look at great directors who’ve been around for decades. All of them are still creating good work, from time to time.
DW: Which director came to you first? Why?
CK: I wrote a list of the directors that I love and then whittled it down to twelve. Tarantino was a recent addition to the list, because I’d enjoyed Inglourious Basterds, but wasn’t a huge fan otherwise. He was the first one I chose, because when I watched his films there was an unbelievable efficiency to his work. There’s nothing lazy about his shots, and everything is there for a reason. He’s gained a reputation for stealing his shots from other movies, but I think that’s such a tired cliché now, because when you see how he controls the geography of a scene, and how he conveys meaning, you realize he’s in complete control of the image and its effect. So he was the first, because I started out feeling lukewarm toward his work, and then saw that every filmmaker could learn from his work, whether they like this films or not. I wish Zack Snyder would watch some Tarantino and stop filling his screen with pointless movement.
DW: With Spielberg, you choose parts of his work that may not necessarily stand out to audiences, as in one of his lesser appreciated films, Empire of the Sun. Was it hard to find themes in his unheralded films?
CK: Many write Spielberg off as a sentimental fool. Filmmakers generally know that he’s a lens master, but the public regard him as sugary and predictable, even though his films have been outrageously popular. And the truth is that he’s made a lot of bad films, so I looked to the films that appeared to be made with passion; the films he cared about so much that he used every skill he could to get his meaning across. Empire of The Sun was popular in its day, and every shot is memorable. There’s no dead screen time in that film. Every single shot is set up more beautifully and skillfully than most directors could ever manage. Films such as Jaws are brilliant when he works with people. It’s not the shark stuff that’s impressive, but the way he films human interaction.
DW: With Scorsese, one section is titled Contrasting Motion, and he’s known for moving the camera all the way back to Mean Streets and Who’s That Knocking at my Door? One theme, though, Revealing the Villain, I didn’t notice at first. How did this come about?
CK: I realized that Scorsese is a very practical filmmaker. If he can get away with a conventional shot, or even a TV-style scene, he’ll shoot it that way to save time. When it comes to scenes that need to have more emotional impact, or more meaning, he uses all his skills to make sure that every details counts towards the storytelling. Given his reputation, I was surprised. I thought every shot would be a winner, but he only pulls out the big guns when he has to. Revealing The Villain was a chapter that impressed me because he’s using repetition and memory to create expectation, and then he breaks that. It’s a really important technique, because the villain is revealed early on in the film, but then has to be reintroduced half way through. Without a clever technique like this, Jack Nicholson’s appearance would be dull. As it is, a couple of simple camera moves make it tense and frightening. As with most of the shots in this book, you don’t need fancy equipment. You can achieve most of the effects with simple pans and tilts. Sometimes you need dollies and cranes, but most of the time it’s about knowing how to use actors and a camera within a space.
DW: Tarantino appears to know how to set up scenes, even entire movies. In your book on Tarantino, you discuss the opening shots of Inglorious Basterds, he works subtly and you dissect it shot by shot. This is why I think your book is so important as he always has the audience in mind. Do you think he’s recognized for this?
CK: I tried not to read anything about these directors while working on the books, because I didn’t want to know what people were saying. But I gather that it’s seen as cool to write Tarantino off as violent, indulgent and shallow. He’s anything but. I don’t know what motivates him to make films, but he clearly loves films, and he wants the audience to enjoy them and experience unforgettable emotions. Too many directors miss this point. They aim to thrill, but you leave the cinema with a belly full of popcorn and a withered heart.
DW: Is there a director you could add to the Shoot Like series? Is there one working today you could analyze in this series?
CK: There are many, but it is difficult to know what’s going to be useful to people. I’d be tempted to write Shoot Like Lynch, because every film student tries to be like Lynch at some point and the result is usually an embarrassing mess. That’s because people think Lynch is shooting weirdness for the sake of weirdness, so they copy the weirdness. What they’re missing is that he can, at times, use the camera in ways that clarify story. There are many popular directors that I don’t think are worthy of inclusion, because a lot of what’s being shot today is nothing more than excessive movement. I really can’t bear to watch another city falling down while people whiz around fighting.
DW: My last question is really a three-part question. What are your favorite cinematic moments, most inspiring, memorable, of Spielberg’s films?
CK: The scene from Schindler’s List that I cover in the chapter called Depth Staging. It’s a dreadful scene, in which a Jewish worker ends up getting shot. What stuns me about this scene is that with the simplest of dolly moves and a single pan, Spielberg create a long, tense scene that’s rich with complexity and complex power shifts, as well as revealing the intensity of the actors’ performances. When you remember that scene, you think it was shot with several cameras. It was shot with one, in a single take; not to be flashy and impressive, but to raise the tension, hold it, and then break it with devastating effect.
Clip: Schindler’s List
DW: And Scorsese?
CK: The scene in Taxi Driver where De Niro storms into the newspaper office. It’s the first time he cracks, and you’d think the scene is impressive because of the acting, but the camerawork is so clever and subtle that the scene would not have worked if it was shot more conventionally.
Clip: Taxi Driver
DW: From your book, cutting back and forth from points of view and framing also work in this scene. Would you agree?
CK: Absolutely. At this point in the film you’re still not sure whether you’re watching a hero or anti-hero, but the cuts and viewpoint shifts make you sense that certainty is being eroded.
DW: I'm not sure if you see this kind of drawn-out technique much these days. Do you?
CK: It’s rare for scenes to be worked for this long, in modern films, but it does still happen. You need a combination of a good script, good actors, and a director who can film the scene in a way that gets the most out of both. It’s much easier to keep scenes short, but then you lose the opportunity to build tension and discomfort over the course of a few minutes.
DW: And Tarantino.
CK: The scene in the bar, from Inglorious Basterds, where the allies try to maintain their cover in the face of subtle Nazi interrogation. Again, this is a scene that people note for its writing and for the performances, but people miss the exceptionally ingenious use of camera moves to keep the tension rising.
Clip: Inglorious Basterds
DW: You also discus editing, when Tarantino cuts, as in this scene. How does that help build and sustain tension?
CK: Cutting is used to tease the audience. Sometimes you’re longing for a cut, to relieve the tension and there is no cut. At other times, you want to see a development continue, but instead there’s a cut to an unwanted person, expression or movement.
