2/14/23
Newsletter #247
The Crack of Dawn
Although I didn’t know this quote at that time, it was exactly the approach I took to the lighting on Evil Dead. British cinematographer, David Watkin, who won the Oscar for Out of Africa (1985), put it this way: “One light is a statement; two lights can be a statement; three lights is no statement at all.”
For the first six weeks of shooting Evil Dead there was no cinematographer. I was supposed to be the cinematographer, but the great and powerful Oz, Sam Raimi, demoted me to production assistant before we even left for the location. Just because I knew Sam wanted me to quit, I didn’t. I honestly thought, “You’re going to need me at some point, asshole, and you don’t even know it.”
So, for six weeks I assisted everybody who needed assistance. Mainly, I helped Tim Philo, the cameraman, who was also ostensibly doing the lighting. Well, Tim had his hands full trying to be the whole camera department, so I loaded magazines with film, did a half-assed job keeping the camera logs (which are important and nobody was doing them), and cleaned lenses that were constantly getting covered with fake blood. The lighting was a completely haphazard affair, which I avoided because Sam had specifically informed me that it wasn’t my job. Rob the producer would roll in three or four lights, aim them directly at the scene and proclaim, “They have to be able to see it at the drive-in.”
I also assisted Tom Sullivan, who was personally the entire special makeup effects department. Since Tom had his own pound of weed, I preferred this job.
As the fates – along with the Great and Powerful Oz – would have it, we’d shot about 30% of the film at the end of our six-week shooting schedule. Since eighteen of us lived in one big house, I was in the perfect position to watch a fascinating piece of drama play out. I was seated on the steps and could clearly see and hear Sam, Bruce and Rob upstairs seriously discussing how they could divvy up what little money they had left and keep shooting, while downstairs I watched as the entire cast and crew packed their bags and discussed who was riding with who in the caravan of cars going from Morristown, Tennessee to Detroit. Finally, the power trio above – Jack, Harry and Sam Warner – figured out their perfectly logical deal to entice everybody to stay. As they came down the steps I had to scoot over to let them past. Oz, I mean, Sam, presented the deal – stay two more weeks and receive a backend percentage point (or whatever) – and his entire cast and crew flatly said no, and left.
Thus leaving the Warner Brothers, I mean, Sam, Bruce and Rob; Goody the inept cook whom Sam had nicknamed, “The filmmaker’s burden,” and me, whom Sam had demoted to P.A. I now found myself in the fabled catbird seat. As the last car full of cast and crew members departed up the long and winding driveway to the cabin, Bruce stepped away from Sam and Rob and approached me. Bruce said, “How would you like to take over the camera, lighting and sound departments? Sam will operate the camera.” I immediately said, “Sure, but there’s one rule.” Bruce tensed up, waiting for my one “rule.” Expecting something crazy. I said, “Nobody touches lights but me. And I bet you I can do the lighting ten times faster and be done before Sam even has the camera set up.” I could see that Bruce thought it was a perfectly reasonable deal and walked over and presented it to Sam and Rob. Alas, I had them over the proverbial barrel. Jack Warner, I mean, Oz, I mean, Sam, then “allowed” me to light the rest of the picture, just like I was supposed to do from the beginning.
And though I hadn’t yet read David Watkin’s quote about one, two or three lights, that’s exactly what I did. It’s a horror movie, for Christ’s sake, how about some shadows? So I started using one Mini-Mole (1000-watts), frequently shooting up from below and creating a spooky shadow (call me an innovator). This took me five minutes. I would go over to the camera, where Sam was now the operator, set the exposure on the lens, and say, “All set,” then I’d go over to the Nagra sound recorder and pick up the shotgun microphone. Sam always knew what angle he wanted, and always made sure to get it. But I was always done before him. And, if I do say so myself, that whole section of the movie is the best-looking part of the movie – Bruce going nuts in the cabin by himself. I’m very proud of it. But it’s also Sam at his best. It’s pure determination. Sure, take my cast, take my crew, I’m still not stopping. Sam was like Captain Ahab shaking his fist at the tempest.
One light is a statement; two lights can be a statement; three lights isn’t a statement.
Although dawn has not yet cracked, I just bet you it does.
They might, it needs a new digital transfer
I just ordered a copy of "Invaluable" from Synapse, primarily because I want to see "Other Men's Careers," which is included on the disc. I remain a devoted fan of yours, and I wish Synapse would see fit to release "If I Had a Hammer!" Alas, I know it's not to be, but I truly love that film.