Chapter 5

 

                                  By David Lewis Yewdall M.P.S.E.

 

Extract from Chapter 5 of  “The Practical Art of Motion Picture Sound”

          copyright 1997-&-2003  Focal Press

 

 

The Challenging Battlefield of  Production Sound

 

 

                                "I'm sorry, David, but the #$%*!ing  director won't give me two minutes to

                        slap a couple of wireless mikes on the actors, and there's no room in t

                        he #$%*ing office for my boom man -- so I had to stick the mike on the

                        floor under the desk -- so don't blame me if it sounds like #$%*!"

 

                                                                Lee Howell, commenting on production DAT-14 while

                                                                working as a production sound Mixer

 

     Without doubt, the most difficult and arduous recording process in the audio-track development of a film is the on-camera production dialog recording. Here the lack of preparation and tactical planning rears its ugly and expensive head in the coming months of post-production. Here the ignorance and apathy of other production-unit department heads, usually consumed by their own contracted concerns, becomes apparent; they do little to help the sound-recording team in what should be a collaborative effort to achieve ideal production audio tracks during the shoot. Only seasoned directors and producers know the loss that occurs of both real money -- spent to ADR actors' lines -- and of the magic of on-camera performance, rarely recaptured and seldom improved.

     Some actors have it written into their contracts that they will do no post-production looping. In other words, if the sync production track is not usable, or if the director or producer decide that a line should be read differently or replaced for whatever reason, the actor would not be available to come onto an ADR stage and reperform it. These additional contractual complexities add even more pressure to capture the most pristine production recordings possible -- pressure that seldom concerns other production heads, who so often have an immediate and dramatic impact on the ability of the production sound Mixer and boom operator to achieve such recordings.

     I remember, while working on one film, watching the production crew filming a medium angle of Jamie Lee Curtis at MGM. I was amazed to see a crewman standing just off to the side of the camera's view calmly eating an apple. The penetration of his teeth was clearly heard each time he bit into the apple's skin. An electrician stood beside him playing with the loose change in his pocket. Neither was making this "sound clutter" on purpose; both were clearly audio-ignorant. Nevertheless, I was stunned at the lack of respect and professionalism they paid to their audio craftspersons during the sequence filming. I knew that a few weeks hence, some sound editor would heave a sigh of disappointment and spend an unnecessary amount of time and extra production dollars to clean out the audible intrusions.

     I talked to hundreds of various craftspeople while writing this book, and was constantly surprised and fascinated by the wide range of views and perceptions regarding sound. The vast majority agrees that sound is one of the most important components of a film, and many actually rate sound as more important than the visual photography itself -- yet most craftspersons not working in sound do not understand their own contributions to the success -- or failure -- of the production soundtrack.

 

The Production Recording Team

       the Sound Mixer

     Responsible for the quality of the sound recordings on the set, the head of the recording team is the sound Mixer. During preproduction the sound Mixer consults with the producer and director on the best ways to tackle recording challenges of the production sound. Each project is different -- each dictates its particular needs. One project may have fairly straightforward requirements, so it has been agreed to record the dialog on a digital timecode DAT while rolling a 1/4" 2-track (stereo) Nagra as back-up. Another project may require multiple simultaneous recordings of different actors in constant motion on a complicated set, thereby requiring individual wireless microphones on each actor as well as two channels of overhead "air" mikes and two foreground boomed mikes. This would require at least one 8-track recorder, perhaps more.

     The sound Mixer must choose the right recording format for the project, rent or supply the necessary equipment to accomplish the task required, and use that equipment to the best of his or her abilities during the filming process. They not only supply picture editorial with the best possible recorded material, but also with a volume of copious notes and sound reports that help guide the picture editor, and later the sound editors, through the maze of sync recordings, wild tracks, and room tones.

       the Boom Operator

     The boom operator is an incredibly important position: if he or she does not get the microphone into the right position at the proper moment, the actor's voice is off-axis and sounds off-mike. The boom operator must be strong and agile, as well as attentive and observant. He or she must know the exact positions of invisible boundaries below which the microphone dips down into the view of the camera; the boom operator also must memorize light throws and angles so as not to allow the shadow of the microphone to be seen on any surface of the area being photographed.

     For those readers who might think it cannot be any big deal dangling a microphone around over a couple of actors -- tie an unopened can of dog food to the end of an 18-foot pole and hold it (fully extended) over your head for four minutes. Now think about having to do this while concentrating on rotating and pivoting the pole to flip the microphone into position, first one way, then suddenly another way -- all the while watching for microphone shadows and keeping it above view of the camera lens. You must accomplish all this without making any noise or vibration that will be telegraphed into the microphone's diaphragm. Getting tired yet?

     The boom operator must also know the delicate workings of radio microphones. He or she must know how to wire an actor quickly, yet know how to work diplomatically with performers' often-unpredictable personalities and temperaments. The boom operator has a personal kit -- a tool or tackle box that holds the tools, tapes, batteries, supplies, and implements that make it all work. In a matter of moments, the wireless microphone must be placed on the actor, in exactly the right spot. The wire must be carefully hidden under the clothing and run to wherever the transmitter is being hidden on the actor's body. This is an art form onto itself.

     The boom operator must be constantly on the lookout for anything making unwanted noise. Good boom operators do not complain and report problems to the sound Mixer or first assistant director -- he or she assesses the problem and offers solutions for dampening the offending sound down, if not completely eliminating the audio intrusions from polluting the recording.

 

       the Cable Man

     The cable man used to be known as the "third man." He or she is also known as the sound utility, and, when a second microphone boom is needed, the cable man wields it into place. The cable man literally clears the microphone cables and keeps the boom operator from backing into things or banging props or the side of the set with the fish pole when cast and crew are in motion. When a boom operator must make a backward maneuver to clear the way and reposition to capture the actors cleanly, the cable man guides the boom operator back with a hand on the belt or back, clearing cable or even silently moving things out of the way.

    If a microphone cable has gone bad or is suspect, the cable man grabs another cable and changes it -- instantly! The cable man is often creating an impromptu rain hat, using short sections of doweling and wrapping it with a thin liner of plastic cover from a dry-cleaning bag and a section of air-conditioning "hog hair" filter. He or she anticipates problems before they arise and quietly solves them so the boom operator can concentrate on the job at hand.

 

the Sequence of Production Recording

     The production mixer understands the rhythm of the production shoot.  He can tell when the First A.D. (first assistant director) is about to announce that they are ready to roll film for a take.  The mixer sets his sound recorder into a stand-by, or "TEST" position.  This allows the electronics to power-up and be warmed and ready to operate at nominal performance on command.

     The production mixer’s sound recorder has been parked in the pause ("Test") mode, keeping the electronics live and ready to roll.  The mixer activates the recorder in the RECORD mode. The tape turns at the designated speed, and the indicator shows a steady and dependable speed. The mixer presses his slate mike on his microphone mixing unit to verbally slate the shot, "Scene twenty-nine Baker take three."

     Verbally slating the audio tape prior to the camera rolling can save valuable film negative.  Many mixers actually preslate the upcoming take prior to the First A.D.s announcement to roll sound.  The mixer will preslate and then place the recorder in pause ("Test") mode again -- waiting for the First A.D. to call to "Roll sound." 

     Sure enough, the First A.D. calls out, "Letís have the light and bell."

     The production mixer is also responsible for the warning light (the revolving red light) just outside the stage or on the perimeter of the location set.  The mixer flips the warning light on, which also sounds the bell (one ring duration).  Work activity stops and the crew holds their positions quietly for the shot.

     Satisfied that activity has settled on the set, the First A.D. cries out, "Roll sound!"

     The production mixer turns the recording machine into RECORD mode.  Once he or she is satisfied that the machine is up to proper speed and that timecode or pilot sync is true and steady the mixer will call out, "Speed."

     The First A.D. cues the camera crew. "Roll camera."

     The camera operator turns the camera on and gives it a moment to gain sound speed; then he answers, "Camera speed."

     The slate assistant (who is usually the film loader) holds up the slate that has the vital information for the show and scene number written on it. It reads 29 "B" TK-3.

     Most camera crews have the slate assistant verbally slate the scene, "Scene twenty-nine Baker, take three."

     Some crews forgo doing this as an excuse to save film.  It is really up to the protocol desired and the concern of film stock that will dictate this choice of procedure.   The slate assistant snaps the slate for sync and steps quickly out of camera view.

     The First A.D. calls, "Cue background."

     The Second A.D. cues the background extras so that they will be in motion. The director allows the action to take a few moments so that few precious seconds of presence with background movement will be recorded (it will match any "inter-filling" that needs to be done later by a dialog editor).  Then the director cues the actors. "Action."

     The above is the proper and ideal protocol for preslating, rolling sound, and on-screen slating by a slate assistant and for creating pre-action presence with the natural action of background extras as it will sound during the internal action of a scene. If you were to record presence tone without the background extras, the intercut presence would sound horribly out of place, cut in between actors' lines, for instance, to replace a director's cue or an unwanted sound. With audio-aware directors and assistant directors, you will achieve this level of protocol and consideration consistently, rendering the best possible audio results.

 

the Basic Recording Kit

     Like anything else, the composition and extent of the Mixer's tools at his or her disposal differ with every picture and every budget at hand. Whether the project has no money to speak of or is a multimillion-dollar blockbuster, the basic recording kit does not change much. You need the following items:

     Sound Cart

     Tape recorder(s) -- analog and/or digital

     Portable Mixer

     Microphones

     Microphone cables

     Wireless RF microphones

     Fish pole(s)

     Shock mount pistol grip w/ zeppelins

     Windscreen covers

     Misc. adapters, phase inverters

     Smart slate

     Communication radios / Comtechs

     Voltage meter for AC tie-ins

     Battery supply

     Cables

     Extra plugs, batteries, etc.

     Plastic and/or blanket for protection from flying

          objects or weather

 

Analog or Digital

     Whether to record digitally or analog is a decision that requires factoring numerous technical and philosophical requirements and attitudes.  One must not think that just because a new technology and/or "fad buzz-word" is used means that it is better or more desirable.  For instance, it is nearly impossible to convince someone that analog recording can not only be preferable, but superior, unless they have used both a digital DAT recorder as well as an analog Nagra under comparative recording conditions and compared the results.

     Personally, I have my own opinions and reasons to record production dialog in analog -- just as I insist on recording action sound effects in analog.  I was getting tired of listening to my colleagues argue back and forth that digital was better, and others say that analog was better.  So I decided that we would go out and record analog and digital formats side-by-side simultaneously, using identical microphones that were arrayed together (for precisely the same recording aspect) and identical cables.  The difference would be the tape recording device -- analog or digital, and what format.  To at help you appreciate the recording differences, review cue #22 of the audio CD provided with this book for "comparative medium recordings."

     Many Mixers record straight to a digital medium such as DAT, but very few do it with an expertise and command that ensures that the digital machine is the only recorder they are rolling.

     Many production Mixers currently use the DAT format as their primary recorder; however, most are also rolling a 1/4" Nagra as back-up. Other production Mixers take a reverse posture. Their 1/4" Nagra is their primary recording machine, and they use the DAT unit as a back-up of their analog recording work.

     Contrary to the hype and advertising regarding the digitally recorded signal, the serious audio craftspersons still prefer that the original recordings be made in the analog environment, whether they be production dialog, customized sound effects, ADR and Foley sessions, or the music-scoring stage. The hundreds of interviews I have held with various Mixers, editors, composers, and engineers have reinforced this view a thousand-fold.

     Very few of us disagree, however, that once the recorded material has been recorded in analog, it should immediately be transferred into the digital environment for the post-production process.

     The question of analog vs. digital recording then seems to fall to the issues of the production challenges themselves, budget considerations and, of course, who handles the recording chores as Mixer.  I have worked with a handful of Mixers who are extraordinary at recording digitally. Lee Howell (Los Angeles) is one; Paul Jyrälä (Helsinki) is another.  Peter Meiselmann is, by nature a hard core analog specialist, but was pressed into recording the production track for first time producers digitally because they felt they needed that technology for some reason.  It was Peter’s first time using the DAT technology -- but his years of disciplined analog technique served him well to adapt to the digital medium.  In fact, I was stunned by the results, as I happened to handle this project. The usual flaws and recording mistakes that plague the digital world were not there.  In fact, numerous sequences that had a screaming monkey, shotgun blasts, and other harsh concussive audio cues were not only recorded beautifully, but they were devoid of distortion and overload edginess -- all of which were overcome because of Peter’s analog experience and discipline. 

     One must not be lulled into thinking that the final outcome of a film's soundtrack is reflective of the production Mixer's work. It can be, but not necessarily. I have handled films where every second of production recording was ultimately stripped out of the track and every syllable of the movie was revoiced.

 

Back-Up Tapes

     As discussed in Chapter 4, having back-up tapes may seem like an inconvenience and a waste of money -- but when you first experience the shipping carrier losing the shipment on the way to the lab and sound facility, or the first time your primary DAT machine "eats" the tape at program number 88, you will wish that back-up tapes had been part of the budget.

     The Mixer should always hold on to the back-up tape, as the back-up tape obviously would be useless if shipped with the primary tape and the both of them were lost!

     The Mixer also is able to have the back-up to play for the director and producer should a critical question arise of "bad sound" or problems with actual roots in sound transfer. Many a sound Mixer could have avoided being the scapegoat in a finger-pointing row between the producer and sound transfer over the poor quality of a daily soundtrack. I know of several situations where the sound Mixer was vindicated because a back-up tape played the sound cues in question for the director and producer. On one particular picture, the studio was actually compelled to fire its own sound transfer department as contractor and then contract the sound-transfer chores to a rival studio, all because the Mixer had kept a back-up tape in hand as insurance.

 

Line-Up Tones

     As described in greater detail in Chapter 6, it is critical that every tape, whether analog or digital, has a known line-up reference tone at the head of the tape. The sound Mixer threads up the first tape of the day onto the Nagra, or inserts the first DAT cassette into the recorder. The first thing he or she does is record an announcement of what-is-what and where they are and what kind of line-up tone is about to be heard.

            "Good morning, we're out here today at Glacier Point for Silver Tip Entertainment’s production of  ‘FIVE RINGS

OF MICHAEL’.  The date is Tuesday, June twenty-sixth, Two thousand and three.  This is roll seventeen.  We’re recording

on a Nagra IV-S in a  flat-EQ mode at a tape speed of 15ips.  Stand by for the reference tone which is minus

            eight equals zero VU"

     In this short and to-the-point pell-mell of information, you have given the most important hit points:

 

     1)   Location of where you are.

     2)   Name of the production company.

     3)   Name of the project. 

     4)   The Date -- both name of the day -- month, day and year.

     5)   What 1/4" (or DAT) roll number it is.

     6)   What kind of machine you are recording on.

     7)   What kind of equalization setting you are using.

     8)   What tape speed (or sampling rate if digital) you are recording at.

     9)   A clear definition of your line-up tone.

 

     One must approach recording the information header of a fresh roll of recording tape as if the tape itself will be the only thing that survives the shoot.  The box will be lost, the data card will be lost, the sound report will be lost.  Believe me I know.  I once had a big box handed to me that was just a huge wad 1/4" tape from a shoot in the Phillipines.  No box, no reports, no reels -- just thousands of feet of 1/4" tape.  Anything and everything I was going to know about the material on it (once I unwound the scrunched up ball of magnetic ribbon) was going to be what I gleaned from the Mixer’s header information and verbal shot slates.  With that kind of nightmare tucked looming around you, keep in mind how vital clear and precise vocal slates and information headers are to everyone who will work with your material.

     Location of recording:  Though it is not vital to know, almost all sound Mixers mention where the shoot is in the information header.

     Name of Production Company: This identifies these recordings as the property of the company or individual that hired the recording mixer to do the assigned work.

     Name of project:  Always list the name of the project.  In the case of episodic material, always name the project along with the production number.

     Date of recording:  Name the date.  There are numerous information data entries that will follow the shoot that use the date as a reference.  Many times we will check the date of one or more shoots to satisfy what may supersede earlier versions -- and sometimes it is vital information to be used for legal purposes.

     Roll number:  This is one of the most important pieces of information, as the roll number is entered alongside the negative roll number (picture) in the code book as well as showing up on the EDL (Edit Decision List) of the final cut version of the film from the nonlinear platform.  It becomes the quickest way to access original roll material for reprints, alternate takes, or to make an "A-B" comparison between an OMF (Open Media Framework) file from the nonlinear platform to determine of a complete retransfer from source material will be required because the original digitized transfers were substandard.  (A subject we will discuss later in the book)

     Type/Model of recorder:  Always tell us what kind of recording device you are using -- whether it is analog or digital.  The transfer facility will want to know this so they will not inadvertently try to transfer the material on a playback unit with the wrong head configuration. 

     Equalization setting:  It is a valuable for the transfer tech or the assistant editor to know what kind of equalization setting was used -- whether or not you rolled-off any high or low end, etc.

     Speed or Sampling Rate:  Tell us what tape speed (analog) or sampling rate (digital) you are recording at.  Do not think that it is always obvious.  You would be surprised how many times that has screwed things up because someone assumed that it was obvious.

     Line-up tone:  The line-up tone quoted above is written on the sound report as:  -8dB = ‘0’VU.  Because there are so many variations of ‘0’ levels that equal of prescribed peak meter level and other variations of recording equipment that use different levels and/or kinds of level protocols, it is an excellent technique for the Mixer to verbally tell us what kind of line-up tone he or she is about record onto the tape, and what it means.             Once the line-up tone is defined, the Mixer will lay down at least 8-to-12 seconds of line-up tone. The reference tone level quoted on the tape is interpreted to be referenced to "0" on the VU (volume unit) analog meter or is referenced to what level "0" is interpreted on a digital peak meter (i.e. -18dB equals "0" VU). Without this reference tone, one cannot accurately set playback levels or make exact 1:1 copies at a later time.

 

 

Sound Report

     The sound report is the key to the Mixer's hard work and efforts: it is the road map of what is on the recorded tape and where to find it. If properly filled out, the sound report also offers a wealth of information through notations made by the Mixer as work progresses. Some Mixers are more note-oriented than others, but if Mixers actually realized the value of their notes, they would probably pay more attention to making them.

     As a supervising sound editor, I know the invaluable contribution of a Mixer's notes, especially when it comes to comments about airplane noise or undesirable talking (listed as VOX) that may have marred the recording.

     The most valuable of notes are those regarding wild tracks (listed as WT). When I begin a project, I immediately get a copy of the Mixer's sound reports and quickly scroll through them, looking for any wild tracks or miscellaneous recordings that may determine what other recordings to which I may need to refer or authorize to have done.

     It is equally important to list a shot where there is no sound.  For one reason or another it may be decided to shoot a set-up where the Sound Mixer is not rolling sound.  He or she will list on the Sound Report the abbreviation MOS (which stands for "Without Sound").  Actually a person could sit for hours and wonder how in the world you get the letters MOS out of "Without Sound," until one knows the genesis of the abbreviation.

     Back in the early 1930s, during the infancy development of the motion picture sound process, a famous director was shooting a picture when he decided not to have the optical sound camera roll for whatever reason.  He turned to his crew and in his heavy European accent he announced to them, "Awlright children, this vun vee do mit out sound."

     The Continuity Script Girl did not ask what he meant by that, but listed the sound note of the shot as M.O.S. in the script notes, and to this day the abbreviation MOS has stuck.

     Frankly, it is uncertain who actually coined the term.  Believe me every academic professor has his or her expert opinion, but I can guarantee you that none of them were there to witness it.  I have heard of someone who claims to have been there, but when you scratch the surface of the claim it was actually hearsay.  I have interviewed a number of my colleagues on this issue, several of whom date that far back, but none of them know the answer beyond a shadow of a doubt.  Many think that it was the colorful, if not legendary Michael Curtiz who said it (THE SEA HAWK, CASABLANCA, THE EGYPTIAN, WE’RE NO ANGELS).  Curtiz certainly had an infamous reputation for mauling the English language.  Others insist that it was Ernst Lubitsch (THE SHOP AROUND THE CORNER, HEAVEN CAN WAIT, TO BE OR NOT TO BE, THAT UNCERTAIN FEELING) that said the immortal words, while Hal Mohr, a cinematographer who had worked with Paul Fejos many years ago, attributes the quote to Fejos himself, whose Continuity Script Girl’s abbreviation stays with us even to this day. 

     Regardless of who said it, the fact remains, when the Production Sound Mixer writes MOS on his or her Sound Report next to a scene/shot designation, every sound transfer facility in the world knows that the sound recorder was not rolling.

     There is no doubt that at some point one ore more of these individuals may well have slurred the pronunciation and enunciation of the directive.  The truth of the matter is that that is not the genesis of the abbreviation, rather a romantic explanation by those who do not know the entire background. (Remember what I said in Chapter 1).  The fact is that there is no substantiation that the curious expression spawned the abbreviation, whereas during the evolution of recording sound onto 35mm film, using a sound "camera" as a photographic optical medium for production sound recording.  When the director did not require sync sound for a particular shot, the recording mixer simply listed the abbreviation MOS on their sound reports that simply meant "Minus Optical Sound."  Unlike hearsay stories, there are actual written sound report notes that explain this fascinating legend.  Not as romantic and fun, huh?  Sorry.  Remember, back during the first two and a half decades of motion picture audio, production sound recordings were accomplished by "photographing" the microphone pick-up via the optical sound camera. 

     Increasingly more Mixers are adopting a full-page width sound report, which gives considerably more room for notation. The slender version of the sound report that dominated the industry for decades was designed so that you could fold it over and simply lay it inside the box of a 5" or 7" reel of 1/4" tape. Unfortunately, this convenient width also inhibited Mixers from writing sufficient notations, and, believe me, we in the post-production process will read as many notes, ideas, and warnings as the Mixer will write.

 

  

 

 

 

     As you study a typical sound report (Figure 5.1), note the types of vital information displayed there. Believe it or not, even the title of the picture is important. Too many times the transfer department is hung up trying to find a scene and take of a print only to discover that it picked up a similar-looking box assumed to belong to the same show because no markings indicated the contrary; hence valuable time is lost as the transfer department searches the right roll number from the wrong show title. Worse, when the "right" scene is found and the transfer department takes and prints it, it is sometimes discovered too late that it is from the wrong show.

     Many times, Mixers do not fully complete the information header, which has often confused transfer departments. Sometimes unusual head tone levels are utilized; these must be carefully noted.

     If the Mixer is using a DAT machine, he or she enters the PNO (program number) that the DAT recorder automatically assigns each time it starts a new recording. The PNO locator system has been a wonderful thing for us in post-production. You simply enter the program number of the scene and take you want and hit the "play" button. The DAT machine spins at 200 times speed in search of this number, automatically stops, and aligns at the head of the recording and plays it -- what a great time-saver!

     Next to the DAT PNO, the Mixer lists the scene and angle designation number of each recording. Generally, a Mixer only enters the scene number once, then draws a line vertically alongside all the takes until the next angle. For example, the Mixer lists scene 105 "A" in the scene box, then take 1. He or she lists take 2 below that and take 3 below that, all the while drawing a vertical line from 105 "A" until that angle is a wrap. The next set-up is 105 "B." Each take has its own line. Do not list all the takes together on one line.  It is not only more convenient for the Mixer to write, but it is much faster for an Assistant Editor or Transfer Tech to find material as the writing will "eye-scan" much easier and more efficiently.

 

 

 

     A Mixer may use a single microphone but have it split on two channels. The first channel (left) is recording at standard level; the second channel (right) is recording the exact same information only at a lower level (often -10dB) in case of sudden bursts of sounds, such as gunshots, crashes, screams, and so forth. The Mixer makes this notation accordingly.

     In the middle of the roll, a Mixer may decide to use two microphones and keep them on dedicated channels. He or she notes that actor #1 is on channel number one (left), and that actor #2 is on channel number two (right).

     In the comments column, the Mixer makes any pertinent comments that he or she feels the post-production people may need. I personally love it when a Mixer makes a comment such as "Great door slam," or "Neat machinery ka-thumps," or "Watch out for airplane in track." During interviews for this book, Mixers confessed that if they really thought their notations were being read and utilized by anyone after the day's shoot, they would certainly make a bigger effort to write them. Sadly, many Mixers do not feel that, in today's compressed post-production schedules and budgets, anyone takes time to glean through their notes and/or ferret out wild tracks recorded for post-production applications.

     Many transfer departments use sophisticated calibrated vari-speed controllers. Many times, a director wants a set-up photographed off-speed, such as over cranking the camera at 30fps or higher for a slightly slowed-down effect, or under cranking at 18 or 20fps, which ultimately speeds up the shot when projected at a normal 24fps. If the director does not want the harmonic pitch and timbre of the voice to sound pitched in relationship with the over- or under cranking, then the vari-speed unit correctly pitch-shifts the audio up or down; this way, when it is played back at 24fps, the visual action is slow-motion or accelerated, but the pitch and timbre of the soundtrack sounds normal.

     One particular underwater monster picture was entirely shot two frames per second slower than sound speed (22 fps) making the pace of the action faster. This not only allowed the producer to tell 103-minute story in only 95 screen minutes (which also proved more desirable to the distribution company), but it also allowed a performance edginess and tension to be instilled because the cast was speaking and moving slightly faster.

     If such notations are made in the comments column, the transfer department can effect the transfer accordingly, making daily transfers to match the picture.

     Note that the last column is formatted for timecode notations. In today's ever-increasing world of "Smart Slates" and timecode dailies, the far right hand column, which used to be reserved for transfer notations is now being utilized by the Production Mixer to list timecode starts for each take.

 

Microphones and Pick-Up Patterns

     The primary tools in the arsenal of weapons at the Mixer's disposal are the various kinds of microphones with their various types of pick-up patterns. Good Mixers have carefully chosen kits they can mix and match, depending on the location and challenges of the sequence to record. Following is an explanation of the basic kinds of microphones generally used for production recording. See Figure 5.3 shown below.

 

                        

                          

 

Microphone pattern

       Omnidirectional Microphone

     This condenser microphone has an omnidirectional pick-up pattern, as illustrated in Figure 5.3. The good thing about the omnidirectional microphone is that it has a relatively even pattern that picks up everything around it. The bad thing is that it has a relatively even pattern and that it picks up everything around it, including but not limited to camera noise, feet shuffling, crew downrange who are whispering, aircraft high overhead, the eighteen-wheeler truck making the grade five miles away, and so forth. As with the use of any microphone, though, you must choose the right microphone for the right job. In some situations you could not be better served than by using a good solid omnidirectional microphone.

 

     Cardioid: A Directional Microphone

     Both dynamic and condenser microphones can be Cardioid. As indicated in the diagram, the Cardioid microphone has a directional pattern of some degree, or what is called a "heart-shaped" pick-up response. That means it picks up more signal directly in front of it than to the sides and especially behind it. It is not just a matter of sound level that is affected. It is a matter of axis. As the actor moves off-axis, or to the side of the microphone, the character and richness of the voice thins and the frontal presence falls away. This is referred to as being "off-mike."

     Dynamic microphones do not require phantom power and are known for being rugged and able to handle a wide dynamic range of sound-recording situations. Vents run alongside the microphone shaft, allowing sound to enter from behind, striking the diaphragm and canceling out some of the same ambient signal that enters from the front, which gives the directional microphone its unique function of cancellation. Signal cancellation is crucial for clear dialog recording, especially when working in exterior situations. Sound of identical character that enters the rear of the microphone as well as the front and that strikes the diaphragm equally is canceled out, thereby cutting down the amount of ambient noise in relationship to the unique sound being recorded directly in front of the microphone, such as the actor's voice. The more sound allowed in from behind the diaphragm, the more directional the pattern.

     As you can easily see, this kind of microphone is more suited for precision miking of actors on a location set already filled with an abundance of unwanted ambient noise. The challenge is to keep the center of the pattern right on the origin of the desired sound; otherwise you suffer "off-mike" recordings.

 

Hypercardioid: Highly Directional or "Mini-Shotgun"

     Like its directional cousin (the Cardioid), this type of microphone is more than just somewhat directional, hence its nickname the "mini-shotgun." Actually, the term is sort of a misnomer, its origin unknown, though sales personnel probably concocted it; regardless, "shotgun" has come to designate microphones with a more forward pick-up pattern. The longer the microphone tube, the greater the number of vents (to allow for rear-pattern cancellation and frequency compensation), and the more directional the microphone.

 

Supercardioid: Ultra directional "Shotgun"

     Early supercardioids were called line microphones, or rifle microphones. The supercardioid is just that -- super highly directional, and equally more difficult to keep directly on the desired spot of origin for the most pristine of recordings. This microphone is not a good choice if your actor is doing much moving or if you have more than one actor on the set to cover; however, for single set-ups or two-shots where you cannot get in close with a fish pole and a traditional microphone, the supercardioid can really reach out and grab the signal.

     The biggest mistake in using any microphone is forgetting that it does not have a brain. In other words, it cannot tell the difference between your voice and noise. Every application has a requirement; a right microphone exists for the right job. Your job is to know which to choose. For music applications, certain microphones can handle the sound-pressure levels that a kick drum might give out, or the brash brass of a trombone or saxophone. Other microphones cannot handle the percussiveness as well but have a much better reproduction of the top-end for use in recording violins and triangles.

     Unfortunately in our industry, many craftspersons try to make one microphone do too many chores. The veteran Mixer will have developed a taste and style of recording, either personally owning or insisting on the rental of a precise mixed assortment of quality microphones to fill his or her arsenal of recording tools.

 

                                   

the “Smart” slate

     Shown above in figure 5.4 is the Denecke "Smart" slate.  This handy slate device is very handy, and especially used in music video work and fast location shooting scenarios.  A wireless transmitter hooks up to the timecode "out" connector of your audio recorder -- which, of course, needs to have a timecode generator (either built-in or outboard hook-up).  The timecode that is being embedded into your recording sync signal is exactly what will be transmitted to the Smart Slate.

 

                                              

     As you can see in the photograph, there is a small wireless receiver (usually fitted with a patch of velcro on the back).  NOTE: when you plug the connector wire into the receiver from the Smart slate, the receiver’s little red indicator light will come on, thereby powering it up automatically.

 

                                    

 

     On the backside of the slate is a small toggle switch that is seated on a slim metal battery case. (The Smart slate uses eight (8) "C" cell batteries.)  If you flip the toggle switch one way the timecode numbers will illuminate on "low" intensity.  If you flip the toggle switch "ON" the other direction, the timecode numbers will illuminate on "HI" intensity.  Obviously, high intensity will make the numbers easier to see in bright lit situations -- and of course, just as obviously, the "HI" intensity choice will wear out your "C" cell batteries a lot quicker as well.

     The slate assistant will hold the Smart slate up, after he or she has hand-written the Scene-Angle-Take information on the front, as with traditional slates.  When the recording mixer rolls the audio deck, the timecode will advance on the slate.  When the slate assistant snaps the slate, the timecode number will freeze on 00:00:00:00 a moment and then turn off.  There are two small flush mounted contact points near the end of the clapper arm -- so when the two touch at he SNAP point, it activates the timecode to cut-off.

     Even though this is a seemingly convenient and visually easy thing to see for picture editorial, the fact of the matter is that many mixers find that sync is not precise.  You may experience as much as plus or minus two frames accuracy.  For those of us who come from the old school of precision, this is just not precise enough. 

 

the Studio Microphone Boom

     The studio microphone boom is a large wheeled perambulator with a small platform on which the boom operator stands while operating the traverse wheels that not only lengthen or shorten the boom extensions but also rotate and pivot the actual microphone position at the end of the boom arm. When properly operated, the boom functions silently and smoothly.

     Studio microphone booms are used progressively less on feature films today because of complex and realistic set construction and the widespread use of practical locations being filmed under accelerated shooting schedules that don't allow the sound crew time and space to use the traditional perambulator boom. These silent microphone arms still have an important use in television production, though, especially when taping live-audience situations.

     The techniques are considerably different than that of booming with a hand-held "fish-pole" style boom.  Not only does a studio boom operator need coordination and dexterity to operate the traverse wheels accurately and smoothly, but he or she also must learn how to turn a microphone and extend the boom arm quickly (so as not to allow air buffeting to affect the delicate microphone diaphragm), and then rotate the microphone back into position once the boom arm has been thrust out into position. It is a technique wisely learned from the veteran boom operators who have worked the boom arms for many years, a technique that cannot be mastered overnight.

 

the Shock Mount and Wind Screen

     Two of the biggest enemies of good exterior recordings are vibration and wind buffet. All microphones are mounted onto something, whether a plastic friction clip or a cradle of a rubberband-mounted yoke. Budget restraints motivate you to new levels of inventiveness. Through experimentation and test recordings, you will develop a wide range of techniques to insulate the microphone from the vibrations of, say, a car as you hard-mount your microphone on the rear bumper to favor tailpipe exhaust. You will learn how to stuff foam around your mike and cram it into a crevice or lodge it between solid substance. You will learn how to detect wind direction and swirl patterns and how to effectively block them. You will learn to grab an assistant and physically place him or her between the source of unwanted breeze buffets and the microphone diaphragm.

 

 

                                        

 

                                                          

Mount and zeppelin

     An effective way to control both vibration and wind buffet is a combination of the pistol-grip shock-mount fitted with a windscreen tube called a Zeppelin. The microphone is fitted into the plastic ring clips, which hold it in place and protect it from undue vibration by the rubber-band trapeze.

     Be careful to guide the microphone cable through the small round cut out at the bottom of the plastic ring, then snap the rear cap of the Zeppelin into place. Do not pull the microphone cable too tight, as the microphone shock mount works best if a little play of cable remains inside for movement. Depending on the breeze factor, you can either slip the gray "sock" over the Zeppelin or, if the breeze is fairly stiff, you might slip on the Ryocote "Wind Jammer" (also referred to as a "Wooly," "Dead Cat," "Furry Dog," or the Sennheiser "High Wind Cover") instead. These remarkable furry wonders have done much to knock down the kind of wind buffet that ruined many sound recordings in the past.

 

"Fish-Pole" Microphone Boom

     As the name implies, the fish pole is a long pole with a microphone socket attachment to hold the microphone shock-mount. Most microphone fish poles are lightweight aluminum tubes that slide out and extend the length of the pole. Unlike with the studio microphone boom, do not extend the length of the fish pole during the recording process. You must either lengthen or shorten the desired length of the fish pole by unscrewing the friction locks and extending the second or third extension tube, then screwing it tight again before rolling sound.

 

Good Microphone Boom Techniques

     Most microphone boom work is done by placing the microphone over the actors' heads, higher than the line of sight of the camera lens, pointing downward toward the spoken word.

     Some Mixers want the microphone to be pointing straight down, using an omnidirectional pattern diaphragm mike, as it picks up a uniform ambient background recording, regardless of which way the performance comes at it. This view is not shared by all Mixers and/or boom operators, just as all boom operators have their own favorite styles and techniques of how to record the best production tracks.

     The unfortunate reality of having an omnidirectional microphone in a full-down position is that it tends to pick up many footstep sounds. Foot shuffling and movements will seem to dominate. Again, it depends on the circumstances and the surface of the floor.

     Some boom operators cradle the fish pole downward, pointing the microphone up at the actor's voice, keeping the mike low enough to be out of camera view. Again, this lends itself to a less-than-desirable characterization of recording and does not always serve the project well. This technique is most often used for documentary or news work, where one is not concerned about the precise timbre or quality of the vocal recording or whether the microphone is seen in the frame. Many consider it a "lazy man's" cradle.

     Truthfully, the best sound recording can be obtained by holding the fish pole high above your head and pointing the microphone at a downward, but slightly tilted, angle, aiming right at the throat of the actor. Some boom operators will tell you that the ideal target to aim the directional pattern at is at the bridge of the nose. Others will tell you they aim at the upper chest, where the voice originates. They swear that the resonance of the chest is vital to the timbre of the recording. Still other boom operators aim right at the mouth, from where the voice issues.

     These are all valid opinions that I have heard repeated many times. Each boom operator uses the technique that best serves the Mixer and most successfully captures the desired vocal performance. Whatever technique you and/or your boom operator use, be consistent! Changing technique in the middle of recordings changes the timbre colorization from scene to scene.

     Without a doubt, holding a fish pole above your head for takes is a grueling and punishing task (boom operators are perhaps the most physically fit craftspersons on the set). Because of this, it serves the recording team well for its members to look after each other. On one particular shoot, a boom operator held a big Sennheiser 815 supercardioid microphone on a fully extended fish-pole boom to cover an extremely slow dolly shot that moved in closer and closer on Lloyd Bridges, who gave a four-and-a-half minute performance at a pulpit. At the height of the sequence, the cable man could see that the boom operator was fatiguing badly. He carefully brought his own boom in, which was equipped with the same kind of microphone, and cautiously lowered it down next to the boom operator's. At a slight pause in Lloyd Bridges's delivery, the Mixer faded from the first microphone to the cable man's mike and whispered into the boom operator's headsets on his PL (communications term for "private line").

     The boom operator raised his boom up and out of the way and stepped back silently. He lowered the fish pole and allowed himself a moment to rest, then raised his pole and reinserted his microphone alongside the cable man's. Again, as Lloyd Bridges paused to draw a breath, the Mixer faded from the cable man's mike back to the boom operator's so that he could finish the take. Without that kind of teamwork, it just would not have been possible to sustain a fully extended, heavy mike recording for that length of time.

     As a general rule, the master wide shot does not sound as good or pristine as the other close-up coverage angles. It is simple practicality: you have more set to cover, with more lights to watch out for and more potential noise to consider.

 

Boom Operator During Set-Up

     One of the first things good boom operators do when starting on a show without a prior working relationship with other department heads, is to find out who serve as the "keys." They also must identify the gaffer and key grip and introduce themselves, as these people decide how to fulfill the DP's (director of photography) lighting wishes. They decide exactly where a light is set and how the light is controlled, using flags, cutters, and scrims.

     The importance of establishing a good relationship with fellow crew personnel is illustrated by the following example. A grip may "cut" (light control) a lamp by putting a "C"-stand on one side of the light. At the same time, the boom operator may really need that spot for maneuvering and properly booming the actors' movements. The grip could just as easily place the "C"-stand on the other side and use an elbow joint to put the scrim in the original position, thereby leaving the floor space available for the boom operator. However, if the boom operator has not made introductions and explained what is needed to fulfill the microphone-placement requirements, then he or she can blame no one else if the microphone cannot be placed in the necessary spot when the director is ready to roll camera and make a take.

     The smart boom operator "baby-sits" the set. The boom operator gets the fish pole and stands by while the crew lights the set. The boom operator may wear headsets, slid down around the neck. This way everybody knows the boom operator is there, standing by to assist in the lighting collaboration; now he or she can follow the action without a boom shadow thrown somewhere on the set where the camera lens will pick it up. Boom shadows are the quickest way to fall into disfavor with the director and DP.

Being a good boom operator is also being a good gaffer or a good grip. One must know how to read the lights. One must know where to stand, where the camera will be, what size lens is used. Often a boom operator asks a simple question of the camera operator, such as, "What size lens are you using?" Sometimes a simple question like this causes the DP to be more attentive and to ensure that the crew cooperates more fully with the boom operator, allowing sound to get in and do its job effectively.

     Director and cinematographer John LeBlanc has lensed and directed both feature films and commercials. "If the boom operator is not in there with us setting up the shot, I have no sympathy for the sound crew. I want good sound! I know that good sound will only help to make my work play better, but if the sound crew is not dedicated to getting in and showing us where the boom and microphones need to be while we're lighting the set, then it's their problem if they can't get in because they are suddenly making shadows."

     As you can see, boom operators must know everyone's jobs in addition to their own to maximize the efficiency of the work. Unfortunately, although physical and technical demands on boom operators make theirs one of the most difficult jobs on the set, many production Mixers will tell you they truly believe that boom operators are given the least respect -- except, of course, from the production Mixers themselves.

 

Checking with the Prop Department

     The boom operator is responsible for talking to the prop department to discover pertinent information that will impact the sound recording, such as whether the firearms handler will use quarter-load, half-load, or full-load rounds in the guns to be fired on-screen. If full loads are used and a multitude of weapons are discharging, you will be deaf by the time you run through the sequence master and the various angles a few times. The microphones amplify the signal, and, with today's digital headsets for monitoring, the Mixer and boom operator will have a bad time of it.

     Many unfortunate situations occur when scenes using a practical weapon are rehearsed one way but actually performed differently. An example now gone to court is where an actor had rehearsed a scene during which he fires a pistol three or four times, then backs up and delivers his line. The Mixer and boom operator compensated, covering the gunshots as rehearsed, then the actor lowered the pistol and began speaking. Right in the middle of his delivery, the actor whipped the pistol up and fired again. The Mixer and boom operator flung their headsets off as they grabbed their ears in pain. They had already altered their record levels for the actor's voice, not his pistol shot, and they had been exposed and vulnerable.

 

Using the Wireless Microphone

     Obviously many situations occur where the boom operator cannot take the microphone boom where traditional microphones with microphone cables can or may go. The obvious answer is to break out the RF (radio frequency) mikes. These wireless devices come in a multitude of models, but basically adhere to a simple and uniform configuration. A small microphone capsule can be either clipped or taped in a position somewhere on the upper part of the body, usually against the chest just above the heart. The capsule has a small wire that runs under the clothing to where the transmitter pack is attached. The transmitter pack is belted, taped, or otherwise affixed to the actor's body and has a short but critical transmission wire (antenna) taped in place to broadcast the signal to the Mixer.

     Batteries are consumed rapidly when using a radio microphone, so the boom operator should be prepared to change the batteries every couple of hours. It is not practical to turn the transmitter pack on and off between takes, so leave it turned on from the time you "mike" the actor to when you either wrap the actor or reach a point where the batteries, starting to show signal degradation, must be changed.

     Before the boom operator approaches the actor, he or she goes to the wardrobe department to coordinate fabrics and textures as well as any special requirements, such as cutting holes inside the costume to allow wires of radio microphones to be connected to the transmitter worn somewhere on the talent's body.

                                  

 

     Some fabrics, such as silk, wreak havoc with radio mikes, as they cause much noise. Another consideration may be whether an actress is wearing a brassiere. If so, the microphone wires can be hidden easily in the bra material, circling around the chest to the back. The wire can be taped as it descends down to the transmitter, which is often hidden in the small of the back. The absence of a bra necessitates carefully taping the wire to the body so that it does not move and show up as it pushes out against the fabric of the costume.

     Due to delicate situations like the one above, boom operators must approach the task of placing radio microphones on acting talent in an extremely professional manner, concentrating on the primary mission: hiding the microphone where it will not be seen by the camera, where it captures the best recording of the actor's voice, while anticipating and solving potential problems with wardrobe fabrics and design.

     Radio microphones are a fact of the entertainment world, and their use is increasing. A good boom operator not only understands the delicacies of the job but also is very sensitive to the feelings of all actors. The boom operator articulates clearly and succinctly what he or she requires of the performing talent in placing a radio mike on them. Humor and innuendoes are completely inappropriate and do not contribute to the professional trust factor that must be instilled and maintained. Every situation is different, and every actor responds differently. The boom operator adjusts the style of communication and demeanor to each, taking cues in comments or attitude. Again, the boom operator must never do or say anything to break the essential trust developed with the acting talent.

     As Rusty Amodeo was handling the boom-operator chores on an interview shoot with Barbara Walters and Jay Leno, the Mixer warned Rusty to get it right the first time. "Get the microphone in the right place where it can't be seen and can't be heard, because Barbara won't let you get back in and adjust it." As soon as Barbara entered the room, Rusty approached her to introduce himself. "Barbara, I'm Rusty Amodeo and I'm here to put a microphone on you."

     "Well, give me the microphone and I'll put it on." she replied.

     That's a tough situation for any boom operator. The microphone must go into an exact spot, and, more important, the place must be fabric-managed. The boom operator must run the wire so that the camera will not see it, and the transmitter must be situated properly with the transmission wire placed in a precise attitude for a clear signal.

     "Fine, you want to put the mike on," Rusty answered as he held out the tiny microphone, pointing to a precise spot in the center of her chest,  "then I need you to place the microphone right here, just under this flap of material, and then I need you to run the wire under and across to this side and tape it in place so that the connector will be -- "

     Barbara stopped him. "Well, maybe you should do it."

     Rusty knew he had convinced her to allow him to do his job, but now he needed to win her confidence and trust. The two went upstairs, where her wardrobe department made the gown choice. Rusty opened his kit and removed the toupee tape (a clear durable tape sticky on both sides) to start affixing the microphone wire to her blouse.

     "What are you doing?" she asked.

     As Rusty continued to work he explained that he did not want to just put a mike on her. He wanted her to look her best, and using toupee tape would rigidly hold the microphone wire in place and prevent the button-down front from bulging open as she turned and flexed. It also would be in her best interest to protect the microphone from rubbing. In other words, Rusty was doing his job to make her look and sound as good as possible. Later, during the shoot, Barbara did not hesitate to allow Rusty to readjust, as now she was convinced that a truly dedicated professional was looking out for her and her image.

     Because of wardrobe or camera coverage, boom operators constantly must consider new hiding places for the radio transmitter pack. Sometimes the small of the lower back is not an option, due to lack of clothing or a tightly fitting costume with the camera covering the back of the actor. Sometimes a boom operator hides the transmitter pack in the armpit. The toughest of all situations is when scanty clothing is worn, and all options above the waist are ruled out. More than once a boom operator had to revert to hiding the transmitter high on the inside of the thigh.

     Although it is most desirable to place the microphone in the upper center position of the chest, you are not always able to do this. For instance, it is difficult to hide the microphone there if the actor is not wearing any shirt. Such was the case on a Paul Mazursky picture, Moon over Parador, starring Richard Dreyfuss. Jim Webb (not to be confused with the songwriter of the same name), the production Mixer, and his boom operator struggled to figure out where to put the microphone.

     As Mazursky rehearsed the actors, the boom operator noticed how the character that played Dreyfuss's valet followed him around like a shadow. The boom operator pointed it out to Jim, and the two of them hit upon the idea of literally making the valet character a traveling microphone stand. They placed a wireless microphone very carefully on the forward edge of the scalp of the valet, hidden just inside his hairline. In this manner, the valet, who spoke no lines of dialog during the scene, followed Dreyfuss back and forth in the bedroom of the manor, picking up Dreyfuss perfectly.

 

Getting Room Tones and Wild Tracks

     The production Mixer must anticipate the audio trials and tribulations that will come during the post-production sound-editorial phase. If the Mixer works with the mind set that he or she is the one to make the material work, then the Mixer is much more attentive to potential dialog lines or sequences, recommending recording pick-up wild lines with the actor after the camera has stopped rolling.

     The Mixer can either record such lines right then and there, while the crew holds still and the camera does not roll, or, what happens more often than not, the Mixer takes the actor to a quiet area with a dead ambiance and has the actor say the lines a number of times. These are usually short pieces of dialog spoken by a bit or minor character that were not clearly recorded during the actual on-camera shoot because of complex miking problems, practical equipment making noise that drowns out the line, or something like a door slam or a vehicle startup overpowering the dialog.

     Aside from wild track pick-up lines, ambient room tones are also needed. Many Mixers try to record room-tone ambiance whenever possible, but it is very difficult to get a full-scale camera crew to freeze in place and truly be silent while capturing a good thirty seconds of ambiance. So many times, we have gotten a room tone that has only a second or so of usable material. The Mixer rolls tape, but the crew has not completely settled down, even to the sounds of feet shuffling. By the time the crew has actually come to an ideal audio texture, the director, extremely antsy to move on to the next set-up, usually comments that that is enough, thinking the Mixer has had a full sixty seconds, when in fact only three or four seconds of usable material can be salvaged.

     People not sound aware often think that room tone is only needed for those little occasional holes or to patch over a director's voice cuing actors in the midst of a scene. They forget we may be required to patch-quilt entire scenes where one actor is looped but the other actors are not. Hence production dialog editors make a three-second ambient piece fill a sequence lasting several minutes on-screen, as it must underline all the ADR dialog of the second actor that was looped. We often are stuck using a very loopy sounding ambiance because the production crew did not religiously and seriously record room-tone ambiance.

     More times than not, the assistant director is responsible for helping the sound Mixer get the necessary presence recordings. I have heard too many reports from Mixers and boom operators alike who have told me uncooperative assistant directors do not care or understand the needs and requirements of anything but sync sound, which has inhibited presence recordings. The smart assistant director understands that by working with the sound Mixer to record presence fill and wild track pick-up lines, or even to arrange prop series sessions, such as recording a rare or unobtainable prop aside from the shoot, he or she is saving the production company literally thousands of future dollars that otherwise would be spent to recreate or fix something that hadn't been solved right then and there.

     One of the most banal excuses I hear from those in positions to make decisions having collateral sound-cost consequences is that they are visual people. I have news for them: so am I, and so are my fellow craftspeople in the sound industry. Someone claiming to be "visual-oriented" really is admitting to being sensory-deprived. That person has immediately told me he or she knows very little about the storytelling process of making film. It is because we in sound are visually empowered that we can design and create spectacular audio events to make the visuality rise to new heights of production value, the whole becoming a more thrilling spectacle than visual-only thinking can produce.

 

Splitting Off Source Sound

     Very often, the production Mixer has a scene to record that has a practical television in the shot. The television audio should not play back and be heard by the actors' mikes, so the Mixer takes an audio feed from the video source feeding the television and records it onto a dedicated channel.

     In many cases a Mixer records on a 2-track Nagra or DAT. The Mixer line-feeds the video source onto Channel 2 as he or she records the actors' dialog onto Channel 1. This eliminates all the conversion speed-rate issues; it also creates ease in finding exact sync by having the live-feed material "transfer-recorded" in this fashion.

 

X-Y Microphone Configuration

     The X-Y microphone configuration is important when you are recording a left-right stereo spread with two matching microphones. Recording stagnant ambiences with two matching microphones spread wide apart from one another is usually a problem, but whenever you have a situation where there is a sound-emanating source (such as a car, an airplane, or motorcycle) that is moving, ever changing the distance from itself and the two microphone diaphragms, you will experience phasing.

 

                           

 

X-Y pattern

     As depicted in Figure 5.4, a sound source such as a car passing across the median axis of a bilaterally symmetrical pattern of both microphones experiences a phase wink-out. As the car approaches, the sound of the engine takes ever so slightly longer to reach the far mike as it does the closer mike. As the car approaches, the time it takes to reach the far microphone decreases to the point that, as it hits the axis (center) point, the two microphones switch roles. Now it is taking increasingly longer for the sound to reach the far left mike. At this crossover point is a phase wink-out, or drop-out of signal.

     The severity of the phase wink-out is proportionate to how far apart the two microphone diaphragms are from each other. The closer they are to each other, the less the phase wink-out. That is why stereo microphones have the two diaphragms in the same capsule, either side by side or one on top of the other.

     If you are using two monaural microphones to record stereo material and you have the potential for audio sources such as cars, trains, or aircraft, then you may wish to place the two mikes in what is called an X-Y pattern. In this configuration the left microphone is facing to the right, covering the right hemisphere, while the microphone on the right is pointing to the left, covering the left hemisphere. This places the microphone diaphragms physically as close as possible to each other to greatly reduce the time the audio source signal takes to reach one microphone diaphragm as to the other.

     Figure 5.5 depicts a typical dual-capsule stereo microphone. Note how the diaphragms sit as closely as possible to each other, one on top of the other.

 

                         

 

Stereo capsule microphone

     The top diaphragm capsule rotates to increase or decrease the degrees of separation as desired. Be careful to maintain the correct up-and-down attitude of the stereo microphone, to keep the left and right coverage in correct aspect.  The advantage of using a stereo "dual-capsule" microphone is that the left and right diaphragms are much closer together than by placing two monaural microphones in an X-Y pattern.  The chances of experiencing phase cancellation and "wink-outs" are minimized greatly.

 

The Illusion of Monitoring Field Recordings

     Eric Karson has been on many a shoot, both domestic and abroad, learning well the difference between what you think you've got and what you really have.

     "We're on location, in the heat of battle, making the picture, and we are given headphones to monitor what we believe is actually being laid down on tape. Later when we wrap the shoot and settle into the picture editorial process, we discover that it does not really sound how we remembered it. Oh, it is what the actors had said, but the perceived quality value that we thought we had at the time was not really on tape. As a producer or director, you learn that lesson early on and sometimes in a very hard and brutal way."

In another case, John LeBlanc was asked to serve as director of photography on a low-budget western. The producer had made commercials successfully for several years but was inexperienced in the handling of feature projects. I received a call from John, asking if I would mind if he brought the producer, the director, the UPM, and the gentleman the producer had hired to handle the production mixing chores.

     The following day, we met and discussed the various aspects of the show as they related to sound. Unknown to me, John had heard the production Mixer talk about how he would handle recording on the set during previous preproduction meetings, and, knowing a few things about feature sound, several mental red flags had gone up. John segued the conversation into having the young man convey his intentions for me to hear for myself.

     With a great amount of eagerness, he explained how he would record on a DA-88 so he could use up to eight channels at once, placing microphones all around the set. He wound up his dazzling litany with the warranty that the producer need not waste money on Foley, as his production soundtrack would make all that obsolete.

John turned to me. "Well, Dave, whad'ya think?"

     I did not know whether to laugh or cry. "I think that you are hurtling toward an apocalyptic collision with post-production hell, that's what I think."

     The young man was offended by my comment, but I felt the need to make my point. "Tell me, son. How many feature films have you mixed sound for?"

     He tried to change the subject. He started to detail all the big-name features he had mixed. I grabbed the previous year's edition of the Annual Index to Motion Picture Credits published by the Motion Picture Academy as I calmly began pointing out that one should not try to equate working on a post-production rerecording stage in a totally controlled environment with the combat-zone style rigors of recording in the field.

     The young man finally admitted this was going to be his first time, but he had had more experience with digital sound than anyone else on the face of the earth. He actually extended his hand to me and said I could kiss his ring.

     I returned to the Annual Index. "I don't see your name listed here under two of the titles you mentioned."

     He explained that he did not mix on the actual soundtrack for those films but had handled mixing the sound for a making-of-a-film television program. John LeBlanc rose and shook my hand, as he knew nothing more was to be said.

     Despite that afternoon's revelation, the producer decided to have the young man handle the production mixing job anyway, based on the digital sleight-of hand that was offered -- and I am sure a lot of it had to do with the temptation to save monies earmarked for the Foley process.

     Several months later, John showed up with a video of the film. It was a work in progress, but clearly revealed the caliber of work of the Mixer. John recounted how the production Mixer became progressively more bogged down during the shoot, totally underestimating the reality of the work. It had gotten to the point that the crew was even making fun of him. Not only did the producer have to go ahead with the original plans to have the Foley performed, but much more work in sound-effect development became necessary, and potential ADR requirements also had grown more and more -- not less. Instead of trying to reinvent the wheel, the producer would have been far better off using veteran experts and following their advice. With extremely few exceptions, we do things the way we do for good reason -- because we have practiced our craft enough that we have developed it into an art form.

 

Multichannel Mixing

     When we speak about production recording in a multichannel format we refer to two channels, either a 2-track Nagra or a 2-channel DAT.  Nagra's 1/4" digital deck allows 4-channel field recording, and a very few individuals may from time to time record to a DA-88 8-channel.

     When you think of the grandfather of multichannel production sound recording, you must be thinking of the renowned Jim Webb, who handled the production recording chores for the legendary film director Robert Altman on such pictures as California Split, BUFFALO BILL, THREE WOMEN, A WEDDING, and NASHVILLE, the first Dolby 2-track matrixed stereo mix (this picture earned Jim the British Academy Award for Best Sound).

     On A WEDDING, Altman doubled the Nashville format. Jim Webb found himself recording on two 8-track machines simultaneously. Altman shot with two cameras amid fifty actors all interrelating with each other. Jim played musical microphones as he was mixing one group of actors holding a conversation, with camera set-ups moving from group to group. There was no real script, as Altman worked best with impromptu performances, so Jim had to be ready for anything.

     For each set-up, his cable man went out and made a character ID strip of tape with numbered assignments on each of the radio mikes affixed to the actors. When he came back to the sound cart, the cable man laid the assignment tape right across the bottom of Jim's fader pots on the mixing console so that he would know who was on which microphone.

     "It was nuts, I had an assistant keeping the log on who was on what track just so that the script supervisor could keep all the material straight, as there was no time for me to keep an accurate log!" he remembers.

 

                           

 

     On CALIFORNIA SPLIT, Jim had the challenge of not only having to record 8-channel production dialog, but to do so while on a practical traveling location, a bus en route to Nevada. Keep in mind that, today, 8-channel mixing boards are commonplace, but in the 1970s Jim Webb's techniques were way ahead of mainstream production recording. The eight channels of signal had to be fed through two 4-channel audio Mixers into the 1" 8-channel tape-recorder located on the bottom shelf of the cart near the floor. A 1/4" Nagra was fed a combined mix-down signal for protection back-up purposes. Jim Webb operated the first 4-channel Mixer while his boom operator, Chris McLaughlin, operated the second 4-channel Mixer.

 

Recording Practical Phone Conversations

     For All the President's Men, director Alan Pakula told Jim Webb, "I don't want a throw-away soundtrack." (A throw-away soundtrack means basically just a guide-track is being recorded so the actors can loop their lines later in an ADR session.) Jim could not agree more, so for every aspect of the production recording process Jim left no stone unturned.

     Warner Brothers removed the wall between sound stages 4 and 11 to build the full-scale set of the Washington Post newsroom through     the breadth of both stages.

"We had one shot that was a hundred-and-eighty-foot dolly shot inside the four walls of the set. In order to eliminate what would have been a nightmare of ballast hum due to the entire ceiling being filled with rows of fluorescent lamps, the construction crew rigged a huge rack for the ballasts just outside the sound stage and bundled the wiring in groups that fed back into the stage to the fluorescent tubes themselves," Jim recalls. "As you know, it seems that half the picture was performed on telephones. Well, they didn't want the traditional style of actors having to act out a telephone conversation with no one on the other end of the phone to play off on, so it was decided early on with the help of the special-effects crew to build a practical telephone system into the set. We had five lines that you could switch back and forth on as Redford might put one call on hold while he answered another or placed a second call while keeping one or two other lines on hold. Each off-camera actor was on the other end of the phone conversation and was set up in an isolated area of the stage."

     Jim warns that simultaneously recording an on-screen actor clean while also recording the telephone feed must be handled carefully. "All the multiple phone calls are recorded in real time, which can be a problem if the on-screen actor's voice is in the phone feed. What you need to do is take the transmitter out of the handset of the on-camera actor's phone so that you don't experience 'double up' of the live mike with the phone-line tap. You set up the actors on the other end of the phone with headsets so that they are hearing the on-camera lines from the production mike (prior to the record head) so that you do not get that delay as heard from playback. The nice thing about this technique is that the off-camera phone feed has total isolation because the on-camera actor has the receiver right to his ear, listening to the off-camera voice so there is no acoustic leakage. Dialog overlaps are never a problem as you have both actors in complete isolation, recording each actor on a dedicated channel. This allows dialog interplay in real time."

     It was the first time Robert Redford had ever used this kind of telephone technique while shooting a picture. After the director sounded "cut" on the first rehearsal, Redford looked up and exclaimed his excitement over being able to act and react to a live actor on the other end of the line. Jim could not have been happier with the results. "It really sets the actor free to act rather than try to play to nothingness, or to carefully avoid overlaps of lines being read off-camera by the script person."

     Was all this extra effort worth it? All the President's Men was awarded the Academy Award for Best Sound that year.

 

Perils of Recording in Snow

     In the winter of 1989, digital production recording was anything but mainstream. Long before inclement-weather digital recording was being mastered, Paul Jyrälä had endured 105 days of production recording in freezing temperatures, handling the literal trench-warfare chores of mixing the war epic TALVISOTA: The Winter War in his homeland of Finland.

 

 

                      

 

                                         Production sound Mixer Paul Jyrälä sits bundled against the

                                  freezing  cold, his digital DAT and 1/4" Nagra  protected by

                                  thermal blankets and battery-operated heating units. The boom

                                  operators wear machinist face shields and padded jackets to

                                  protect them from flying rocks and debris during explosion effects                                   

                                  while recording spoken dialog.

                                                    (Photo by Ulla-Maija Parikka.)

 

     Moisture, hot and cold temperature extremes, dirt, and grit -- all the sensitivity issues that inhibit DAT machines from working to their optimum potential plagued Paul during the grueling shooting schedule. His boom operator and cable man worked hard to wrap the equipment with cellophane and pad them with thermal blankets to keep moisture and cold at bay.

     "There were times we thought we should be awarded, I think you Americans call it the Purple Heart," chuckled Matti Kuortti, boom operator. "No matter how careful the special-effect crew was, there is always the possibility of something going wrong. During one scene where we filmed birch trees being blown apart, a rather large sliver of wood flew past the camera and pierced the director of photography in his shoulder. All of us had to be on guard, as there was danger everywhere."

     Paul used four Sennheiser 416 microphones, backed up by two Vega and two Micron wireless microphones. The team used Ryocote "Woolies" to combat wind gusts and air concussion from explosion pots. Unlike American production recording techniques, Paul encoded the production recording on TALVISOTA with DBX II onto the original 1/4". After the crew wrapped shooting for the day, Paul returned to the location barracks and carefully transferred the day's work himself. He decoded the DBX II signal and then re-encoded a noise reduction called Telecom (a European version of the Dolby noise-reduction system) as he transferred the dialog dailies onto 2-channel 17-1/2mm fullcoat film. The first channel was a "flat" transfer, with no Telecom encode, making it convenient for the picture editor. The second channel was the Telecom-encoded version Paul would work with later during the post-production process.

     Because of the meticulous attention to detail that Paul Jyrälä brought to the production mixing chores, the picture only had 5% of its dialog "looped" later in an ADR session -- an astoundingly small percentage given the difficult recording circumstances of snow, mud, flying dirt, and debris. Paul earned his fifth Jussi (the Finnish version of the Academy Award) for Best Sound, and TALVISOTA was one of the seven finalists that made the American "sound effect bake-off" for consideration for an Academy Award nomination.

 

The Ultimate Goal and Challenge

     The challenges of production sound recording make it a difficult and arduous job. The production Mixers and their teams face the daunting and often disheartening struggle with the ignorance factor of the producer(s) and director and their lack of personal empowerment by not knowing what is possible and what preparations and techniques can most efficiently accomplish the mission. If they do not understand what is possible (and they will not understand that unless you have at least certain tools and procedural protocols), and if they do not understand the importance of what "quiet on the set" really means, then how can they hope to deliver what is truly possible? How can they dream to deliver the magic opportunities of production sound?

     Nearly every director I have worked with in post-production jumps up and down insisting on how much he or she wants the magic of production, but in reality so many of them do not do their part to assist the production Mixers and their teams to bring that magic of performance to its fullest possible potential. So many times the opportunities are lost in the logistical heat of battle, in the sheer struggle of shooting the film, getting the shot before they lose the light. If ever a phase of the creation of the motion picture cried out for the discipline and regimentation of a military operation, it is the challenging battlefield of production.