Making Movies

I just noticed it’s Thursday. I thought it was Wednesday. I’m having way too much fun for my own good. Let me explain:

I’m now the movie business, or, as they say in Hollywood, I’m a player. I had been thinking about producing my own short videos for some time now, and last week I got serious.

Late last year, I bought an Apple desktop and laptop and started playing around with the GarageBand and iMovie programs. Both computers come with built-in video cameras and microphones. I gave myself a “screen test” by reading some of my articles. I didn’t do too badly. Two years ago, I would have been too terrified to speak into a camera or microphone. But last year, I took a flying leap into public speaking, and picked up some invaluable lessons in the process.

Sort of like an old dog learning new tricks. More on that in a little while.

Nevertheless, despite my new-found confidence, I came to the quick realization that that any more than 10 seconds of me on camera violated several clauses in the Geneva Convention.

As they say in the business, I needed to “break it up.”

So I began experimenting with setting still images to music.

Then I forgot all about movies while I spent nearly all winter working on overhauling my website. I came up for air just in time to catch an Air New Zealand flight to my daughter’s wedding. On my return, I eased back into work with further tweaks to the site.

It was time to get back to my bread and butter. Blogs, newsletters, articles. Maybe prepare my income tax.

Nah!

I quickly dashed off a script. “Intercepting a Mood Swing,” I called it, based on a number of previously published pieces of mine.

Then I went into pre-production, which involved cleaning the segment of my room within camera-range and dumping the debris onto my bed and available floor. Then I rolled the cameras and started reading.

Oops! Ten seconds out, and the international human rights people were already mad at me. Droning on camera, apparently, rates right up there with chemical warfare on your own people.

So I put together a new opening, using music and still images. Portentous Wagner, scenes from Michelangelo’s Last Judgment.

“ ... you find yourself falling into Hell,” I narrated, by way of a voice-over.

If Steven Spielberg calls, tell him I’m busy. Time for my close-up.

“Hi, I’m John McManamy ...”

Call me butter, cuz I’m on a roll.

After a bit of trial-and-error, I figured out that the key to good filming was short takes, real short. Between takes, I would reposition my computer and myself, and resume reading. This way, it looked like I had about three or four cameras rolling at once.

But five minutes of me, even in short takes, was asking a lot. So, at strategic moments, I spliced in other stuff. Captions, photos, sound effects. Ah, so THAT’S how movies are made. I’ve been watching TV and movies all my life and it took me nearly six decades to realize this? Better late than never.