FRAME BY FRAME
Previously I linked to David Bordwell’s analysis of Scorsese’s The Departed, in which he traced the average shot length in the director’s films over the years. Now, Bordwell has posted even more fascinating piece on editing and shot length. In a post entitled “My Name is David and I’m a Frame Counter,” Bordwell discusses mathematical relationships within edited sequences:
Directors have been counting frames for a long time. Experimental filmmakers like Brakhage did. Ozu had a special stopwatch built to register feet and frames during filming. Hitchcock cared about frame counting too. In Film Art’s chapter on editing (pp. 224-225 of the new edition), we show how the gas station fire in The Birds gains impact from its steadily shorter shot lengths. The first shot lasts 20 frames, the second 18, the third 16, and so on down to 8 frames.
In sum, frame counting is one valuable way to find how a director can govern the pace of our pickup. When shots come this fast, our involvement can quicken as well.
Bordwell examines the ways in which film-to-video transfers muck with such precision, examining the technology behind PAL video, Laserdisc CLV format, MPEG-2, progressive scan, and more. He also takes a look at how video mastering can undermine the meticulous calibration of a director like King Hu, whose A Touch of Zen (pictured) is a marvel of quick cutting.
Before the DVD was a gleam in Warren Lieberfarb’s eye, I studied King Hu’s wonderful A Touch of Zen on an editing table. There is a lot of frame arithmetic in the editing. During one swordfight, the mysterious stranger leaps away from the blows of Miss Yang and lands in a medium shot. He steps back, tipping up his face to reveal that she’s bloodied his head. He stares in astonishment. The shot lasts only 20 frames.
Yang stands still, holding her sword at the ready. The shot lasts a mere 9 frames, which dynamizes her stillness.
The stranger turns and runs out of frame in another twenty-frame shot. The static shot of Miss Yang now becomes an abrupt punctuation, and the stranger’s panic registers on us more sharply by being caught up in a repetitive rhythmic pattern.
Yang plunges after him, in a twelve-frame shot.
All four shots add up to less than three seconds of screen time, but they’re completely legible. It seems to me that the shots accentuate a pause in the fight by inserting a striking micro-rhythm, and then they dissolve that by letting the fighters continue the combat. Would that today’s filmmakers thought out their cuts so precisely! (If you want to learn more about King Hu’s editing style, see my Planet Hong Kong and the essay on him in the forthcoming Poetics of Cinema.)
But if you examine these shots on the US DVD of A Touch of Zen, you’ll find that the number of frames is way off from the film. The first and third shots run 25 frames each, not 20 frames; the second shot runs 11 frames (instead of 9), and the fourth 15 (instead of 12). Why? Inspection reveals our old friend, the 3:2 pulldown, at work. Improper authoring has left in the frames that should be jettisoned in step playback.