I recently finished reading through this brilliant look at mattes and miniatures. Don’t be put of by the cover, this book is an excellent memoir from MGM’s head of effects during Hollywood’s golden age. The manuscript, that Gillespie penned in the sixties, has only recently been published, and so it does suffer from slightly below par photographic illustrations, but this is amply compensated for by their quantity, coverage and the privileges of the authors extensive access.
Penned decades before the pre-digital era, the focus of the book is made up of practical and optical effects, mostly by miniatures and matte paintings. The language verges a little towards lines that sound like they came out of Mad Men at times, but not too much. Gillespie can definitely tell a good story, loves a tangent, and goes into he kind of in-depth details that will make Cinefex jealous.
Fascinating and brilliant, can’t recommend it enough!
Having worked exclusively in digital formats for the past 15 years, I have recently been making a concerted effort to resurrect some of my practical design skills. Around five years ago, I started to sketch more frequently, as I began to take on more of a design lead on projects. It proved a great complement to pixels.
More recently, I have looked to expand upon this positive experience and started to explore the use of miniatures in filmmaking. The shots below are of a miniature I have been developing for a sequence of shots based on a snowy environment I have designed. Two faces of a section of a building have been constructed, and set within a snow covered landscape. This miniature set design will ultimately be extended through the use of digital set extensions and 3D tracking.
The shell of the building was made out of foamcore, which was then clad in balsa. The balsa was ridiculously pristine when first applied, but has since been aged and weathered with heavily diluted ink washes. The snow is a combination of polystyrene base, on top of which, model railway snow effects and marble dust (to add sparkle) have been applied. The icicles are made by applying model railway water effect gel to waxed paper. Once dried, they are glued to the eaves of the building. It’s not finished yet, but so far, it’s proved to be a hugely, enjoyable indulgence.
As with any miniature, depth of field has proved problematic. The only way to counter this, has been to dramatically stop down. Testing has shown f16 to be the absolute maximum, but to achieve optimum results, I am going to need to reduce the aperture even further. The direct consequence of this, is that I then need ridiculous levels of light.
I’m currently looking at stop motion techniques to achieve small apertures, with less light and longer exposures. This approach will allow for better digital environments through better depth of field and improved image quality and resolution compared to video capture.
I wanted to post these before Fortitude is screened tomorrow, as I started work on this last Autumn but business has been very busy and limited the opportunities to work on these kinds of personal projects.
Work schedules permitting, I’m hoping to have the first sequence completed by the Spring
I spotted this wonderful little animated tale of road rage and revenge on Vimeo earlier today. I was intrigued as to how they had manged to film it with the cameras getting so close to the cars – these are just Micro Machines after all – but was rewarded with some behind-the-scenes shots at the end.
A very concise micro featurette by FX Guide, for Wired, that looks at the push to get back to doing more effects in-camera. Whilst the reviews for the films story have been reserved (listen to Mark Kermodes review for BBC Radio 5), there is no denying that visually, it looks stunning. Despite being introduced as a look at the return to in-camera effects, the miniatures used in the movie flash by too quickly. At the same time, arguably the showpiece of the whole film is the Elysium Torus, but that’s a CG effect. Nevertheless, it’s not a bad way to waste 3 minutes on a Friday.
As a kid, this (Valley of Gwangi, 1969) was one of the most awesome things I had ever seen when it appeared as the Saturday night movie on our black and white TV*. This movie, along with the Seven Voyages of Sinbad and Jason and the Argonauts were quite magical. I knew that they were models and miniatures, but I didn’t care because they were beautifully crafted and to me, seemed full of life. It was not until my teens that I discovered that the same man, Ray Harryhausen was responsible for these films, along with a whole host of other fantastic visions.
Sadly, Ray Harryhausen passed away yesterday. The obituary in todays Guardian does a better job than I ever could, but it wouldn’t be hyperbole to say that cinema has lost one of it’s true greats.
*It was the mid-seventies in a tired seaside town in North Yorkshire and I would have been approx six years old. Colour TV had been invented (I’m not that old), but only a few of the neighbours had it.
I hadn’t heard of the game called Bulletstorm before, but this diorama style, TV ad created by New Deal Studios caught my eye recently. In the ad, a camera sweeps through a landscape featuring characters from the game, caught in a frozen moment in time. It is a very deliberate, but playful pastiche of the Halo 3: Believe spot from 2007, spoofing many of the vignettes in the earlier work and adding its own little gag to the hero pose at the end. Where the Halo 3 piece is advertising dressed as myth making (see the Museum of Humanity “documentary”), the Bulletstorm ad establishes it’s own credentials by flipping the bird at pre-sold franchises.
And for reference, here’s the original Halo 3 spot from 2007 which features an exquisite and epically proportioned diorama, also built by New Deal Studios.
A number of behind the scenes photographs of this diorama can be found over on fxguide – scroll down to just below the set of images for The Aviator.
And of course, before the Halo 3 spot came a number of dioramas created by the artists Jake and Dinos Chapman. The most ambitious of these was Hell (1999), comprised of over 30,000 figures, many of which were Nazi soldiers enacting scenes of torture and cruelty. The piece was destroyed in the MOMART fire of 2004 but then re-created anew as F***ing Hell (2008).
Ironically, it’s usually the games that are criticised for their depictions of violence.