Framing Small Moments

A beautiful sunset is a beautiful sunset no matter who’s filming it--and that’s a thought that disturbs Roger Deakins, perhaps the most acclaimed and sought-after cinematographer currently working in Hollywood.

“What I hate about modern cinematography is how simplistic it is,” says the lanky, 52-year-old Deakins, sitting in the living room of his custom-built Santa Monica Craftsman-style home. “The picture is either pretty or sensationalistic. The superficial gloss seems to complement the superficiality of the scripts. It’s completely wrong.”

“Simplistic” is hardly how one would describe Deakins’ work on such stylistically far-reaching films as “Sid & Nancy,” “Kundun,” “Fargo” and “O Brother, Where Art Thou?” or on his two upcoming films: the Coen brothers’ “The Man Who Wasn’t There,” which opens Wednesday, and Ron Howard’s “A Beautiful Mind,” which opens in December.

As distinctive as the movies themselves, his efforts on those films are always in accord with the thematic concerns of the filmmaker, his visuals always in service to the project’s theme. The nervous, hand-held camera in Alex Cox’s “Sid & Nancy” underlined the chaotic lives and deaths of the central characters; the sweeping balletic movements in Martin Scorsese’s “Kundun” moved the audience along the protagonist’s spiritual journey; the sparse, unadorned palette of “Fargo” mirrored the Coens’ documentary-style take on a murderous spree over the frozen plains of the heartland.

“Roger can do it all,” says Todd McCarthy, Variety film critic and director of “Visions of Light,” an acclaimed documentary about the history of cinematography. “He’s totally in sync with the filmmaker, whether it be the Coen brothers and other American independents or the full-bodied, epic style of Scorsese. There is a certain weight to his work that sets him apart. He takes each project to the limit, maximizing the visual style in every possible way.”

Deakins, who was born and raised in the small British seaside resort of Torquay, came to cinematography through a series of accidents. As a teenager, he says, he was “mad about the movies” but never entertained the thought of working in the business. He originally aspired to be a painter, through which he evolved into being a still photographer. After studying at England’s National Film School in the early ‘70s, he began shooting documentaries and moved into features to work with a former fellow student, director Michael Radford, with whom he collaborated on three films, “Another Time, Another Place,” “1984” and “White Mischief.”

Deakins remains true to his roots as a photographer. Film is a natural extension of his interest in capturing “moments,” he says. “A great still photo captures the way people are and communicates that to the observer. It’s all about framing the moment to reflect the human condition.”

Despite his visual training, Deakins says his decision to work on a film always emanates from the written word. “It’s all in the script,” he says. The subject matter, he continues, dictates the style of each film, and he has rejected opportunities to work on movies “for which the director of photography is merely hired for his reputation and not for his opinion. Otherwise it can be hard to figure out why you’re there.”

It’s easy to guess why he’s worked with the Coens on six films in a row, starting in 1991 with “Barton Fink.” Each film displays a distinctive style. From the start, he says, the Coen brothers make his job easy. “Their scripts are very visual. You can immediately tell where they’re heading.”

The Coens storyboard every shot, which allows Deakins the luxury of concentrating on framing each scene and enhancing its visual impact. “They have a precise idea of the world they want to create. Since their starting point is further along [than with other directors], I can do more with the visuals.”

His greatest satisfaction, he says, comes from small moments, finding “images that have resonance.” He mentions one moment from “The Man Who Wasn’t There,” a ‘40s-era noir: “Billy Bob [Thornton] silhouetted in the door frame while Frances [McDormand] is in the bathtub and the way the framing suggests his isolation.”

Joel and Ethan Coen relish the element of surprise Deakins brings to their films. Notes Joel Coen: “We are constantly being surprised by Roger in the same way as working with a good actor who brings things to the table that weren’t expected.”

“Unlike a lot of other people, Roger thinks about the whole movie, not just the individual setup,” adds Ethan. “He’s involved very early on. We do a draft with Roger and talk about it, getting progressively more specific. He figures out what serves the story and makes sense. The fact that he’s so sensitive to that is what makes him so great.”

The Coens envisioned “The Man Who Wasn’t There” as a black-and-white movie with film noir overtones, and Deakins immediately signed on. “What’s wonderful about black-and-white is its simplicity,” he says. “It allows you to compose how the light falls on the frame without the distraction of color.”

Artistically that was all well and good, but the movie’s backer, USA Films, had pre-sold the video rights for a color movie. Deakins worked that to his advantage.

Over the years, he explains, there have been great advancements in color film stock because most movies and television shows are presented in color. “Every six months there seems to be a new color stock. But black-and-white stocks haven’t changed for many years because there’s been no reason to update them.”

So Deakins shot “The Man Who Wasn’t There” in color and then printed it on black-and-white stock, which lends the film textural sharpness and richness. One critic this year at Cannes, where “Man” debuted, likened it to a James Cain novel as envisioned by Robert Bresson, France’s acclaimed ascetic filmmaker.

The lighting in “Man” is simpler than that of traditional Hollywood noir films, and there are almost no shadows. “I wanted the film to have a contemporary look,” Deakins explains. “I didn’t want it to look like something that was shot in the ‘40s or ‘50s. If you look at those films, they are very atmospheric and nicely lit, but rather crudely shot and sometimes very flat.” Deakins took his cue from cinematographers such as James Wong Howe, Conrad Hall and Russell Metty, who used simplified lighting schemes in black-and-white films such as “Hud” (Wong Howe), “In Cold Blood” (Hall) and “Touch of Evil” (Metty). “If you look at those movies today, they’re very modern.”

As on his last film for the Coens, “O Brother, Where Art Thou?,” Deakins remained involved long after filming was over. He took part in the post-production work on “Man,” although it was less labor-intensive than “Brother,” for which he received an Academy Award nomination last year (he had previously been nominated for “Kundun” and “The Shawshank Redemption”).

“Brother” starts in black-and-white and gradually adds color over the first 15 minutes, but much of that effect was developed after filming was completed. “Brother” was shot in Mississippi in midsummer on a verdant, almost tropical landscape, which Deakins “tweaked” in post-production, transferring the film to digital and de-saturating the colors until the bright greens were tobacco brown.

In contrast to his fastidious, frame-by-frame, shot-by-shot work with the Coens, Deakins’ efforts on “A Beautiful Mind” are much more fluid, in keeping with director Howard’s emphasis on his actors.

The Coens’ films are carefully mapped out, have few extraneous shots and are constricted by tight budgets. Deakins’ work on “Mind” is less structured and more improvisational. He estimates that he shot a million feet of film on the project, much of which will not make it to the finished product.

As critic McCarthy notes, one of Deakins’ strengths is his adaptability, and “Beautiful Mind” presented him with a different set of challenges. It is a realistic, character-driven film, which was shot in a quasi-documentary style and in continuity (a rarity in motion picture production). The director allowed the actors a great deal of latitude in their movement, “so I had to light entire spaces and not specific shots.”

The complicated production required him to quickly reposition the camera (Deakins operates the camera on all of his films) because Howard shot most scenes from a variety of angles. “It became almost like a ballet dance. But I enjoyed playing with the space, learning about the scene along with the actors.”

Over the years, Deakins says, he has toyed with the idea of directing and has written a couple of scripts. But lately he has decided against making the leap.

“I still feel like an outsider here, and I’m not comfortable going into studio offices. And I figure, which is better, working with Joel and Ethan or Ron on films that I’m proud of, or spending two years in development hell?”

(BEGIN TEXT OF INFOBOX / INFOGRAPHIC)

A Cinematographer’s Many Moments

The style of Roger Deakins’ cinematography varies from film to film. Here’s a look at some of his best known work:

“Sid & Nancy” (1986): The precipitous slide of the Sex Pistols’ Sid Vicious and girlfriend Nancy Spungen is rendered by Deakins in a nervous, hand-held style interspersed with dreamy drug-induced reveries.

“Mountains of the Moon” (1990): The story of British explorers Richard Burton and John Hanning Speke’s search for the source of the Nile. Deakins underlit the film, playing against the awesome beauty of the African continent to capture the rigors of the arduous 19th century trek. By contrast, his work on 1988’s “White Mischief,” a tale of British decadence set in Kenya, is startlingly bright and sensuously colorful.

“The Hudsucker Proxy” (1994): The Coen brothers’ deliberate parody of a George Cukor-style comedy. Deakins softened the color scheme, relying on pastels, to keep it from, as he put it, “going over the top.”

“The Shawshank Redemption” (1994): Deakins’ vivid greens and steel blues convey the warmth and sentiment behind Frank Darabont’s prison drama. It’s the opposite of the cold grays, blacks and browns that characterize his work in the film version of George Orwell’s “1984” (1984).

“Fargo” (1996): A stark documentary approach to the wintry crime tale set in Minnesota. Deakins emphasizes white snow and gray slush so that the sudden eruptions of blood-red violence are more jarring.

“Kundun” (1997): Deakins’ majestic, sweeping camera moves bring an epic scope to this Martin Scorsese biography of the Dalai Lama.

“O Brother, Where Art Thou?” (2000): Another Coen brothers’ Hollywood parody, this time of Depression-era movies. Deakins de-saturated the colors in post-production to play against the lushness of the Mississippi locations, emphasizing mood and texture.